Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the Kingdom of Corea, Jo Yeong was revered. He was the youngest ever Captain of the Royal Guard, the King’s closest confidant, the envy and the idol of millions of people across the country, arguably even across the whole world. Although not technically a part of the Royal Family, he had grown up surrounded by it all in a way usually reserved for the princes and princesses, and was treated, in the most part, with the highest honour.

In the Republic of Korea… not so much.

After Gon told Shinjae about his plan to go back in time and kill Lee Lim, they decided it would be best to get Yeong on board with the plan as well, since he was, of course, the obvious choice of recruit to disarm Lee Lim swiftly and efficiently. Naturally, he had agreed - he couldn’t refuse an order from his King after all - but what Yeong didn’t realise at the time was that the plan would involve sitting in a dirty, cramped space for over an hour. With company.

“Yeong, are you sure that Gon said it was this place?” Shinjae asked, sipping on his iced coffee and staring up into space, instead of at the road where they were supposed to be looking. You know, for their job.

“Yes,” Yeong replied, “I’m sure. I trust my King to lead Lee Lim to the right place, and I know he’s going to show up any second now.”

“Why? He went behind Taeeul’s back to do this plan, who says he’s not going behind our backs too? I know I don’t trust that man as far as I can throw him.”

Yeong took a deep breath, slowly turning to look at Kang Shinjae who had the audacity-

“He is your King,” Yeong reminded him, staring him down. “Have a little respect.”

“I haven’t lived in the Kingdom since 1995. He’s not my King, and I stand by what I said. I don’t even see why you trust him either - I know you want him to be happy or whatever, but from what I’ve seen, he treats you like shit.”

Yeong sighed. “I think he’s just been stressed recently.”

“Stressed?” Shinjae laughed, “Seriously? When he’s been with Taeeul, which is a lot of the time, he’s seemed pretty happy to me.”

“Look, can we leave Taeeul out of this?” Yeong snapped, his question coming out harsher than he’d intended. “All I hear from His Majesty is blah blah blah Jeong Taeeul, and I know you love her but can I please, please, have five minutes without her name being mentioned?”

Shinjae looked startled, before turning away and looking at the road, hopefully to do his job instead of talking to Yeong. It seemed to be working - Yeong basked in the welcome silence, and tried to forget about Taeeul, and focus on his job, and his King.

Unfortunately, Kang Shinjae could not forget about Taeeul, because of course he couldn’t.

“Hey, what have you got against Taeeul anyway?” he asked, nudging Yeong who at this point wished Lee Lim would show up behind him and shoot him in the head. “Your King likes her, and I thought your whole purpose in life was to make sure he’s happy. If he’s happy now, wouldn’t you want her to stay with him? And wouldn’t you do that by not glaring at her every time she’s around?”

Yeong sighed. This day was just getting better and better. Thank you, Shinjae, for pointing that out, and forcing him to come up with an answer. What kind of answer could he give? ‘She can’t be with my King because he needs a Queen from the Kingdom?’ ‘I know my King and I know the chemistry isn’t there?’ ‘Her presence annoys me and has caused me far more difficulty than she’s worth?’

He decided to go with, “It’s complicated,” looking at Shinjae and trying to communicate a message of ‘please don’t ask me any more questions, because this is sensitive and if you make me talk about Taeeul one more time I will deck you.’

Shinjae looked back at him, processing, and then giving an understanding nod. Thank God. Finally, this conversation would be over, and then once they’d gone and fixed the past, he’d never have to talk about Taeeul again, and-

“You’re in love with Gon, aren’t you?”

The question rattled Yeong to his core, all his muscles freezing except his heart, which was pumping at a hundred miles an hour, loud enough to be heard all over South Korea. He bit his lip in a futile attempt to restart his body and regain composure, and tried his utmost to remain focused on the road. Surely now would be an amazing time for Gon and Lee Lim to appear - but no, of course they didn’t, because this universe hated him.

Jo Yeong really missed the Kingdom of Corea. No one would dare to ask him such a question there.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Shinjae continued, obviously not getting the hint from Yeong’s lack of reply. “You’re in love with him. Wow, I was joking before when I asked if you two were dating, but this - this actually makes way too much sense. Why else would you dedicate your life to him, why else would you want him to be happy but be clearly upset whenever he’s happy with her? And don’t try to deny that last one, I’ve seen the faces you make, you’re not subtle. You really are head over heels in love with that asshole!”

Yeong saw red. Hardly a split-second after Shinjae had finished talking, Yeong had him pinned to the ground, gun meant for Lee Lim pointed right between Shinjae’s eyes. A part of Yeong wanted to pull the trigger there and then, but he knew that would garner far too much attention. Unfortunately. Shinjae was a lucky bitch.

“You do not, Yeong spat, in between shaky breaths as he tried to maintain some semblance of composure, “call His Majesty, the King of the Kingdom of Corea, an asshole.”

“Shit, that’s what you’re mad about?” Shinjae whispered to himself, nervously looking at the gun and then up at Yeong. “Ok, ok, I’m sorry, your boyfriend isn’t an asshole, now can you please put the gun down?”

Yeong obliged, putting it back in its holster before sitting down beside Shinjae, and simply saying, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you’d like him to be?”

“It’s not my place to want that.”

“It’s not your place?” Shinjae asked incredulously, shuffling round the small space to look at Yeong properly, to give what Yeong could only assume was going to be a pep talk. “Who says it’s not your place? Don’t deny yourself your feelings, Jo Yeong, you’re a great guy, and you deserve to openly love anyone you want, opinions be damned! Love is love, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!”

“Are you done?”

“Yes. But don’t think that means I don’t care, because I do.”

“Don’t worry, I get it, you’re not homophobic. But I meant more that it’s not my place because oh, I don’t know, he’s the King, and he’s already announced his Queen, and at the end of the day I’m just a guard. My place is to protect him, be there for him as his Unbreakable Sword, and if that’s the way I have to show my love for him, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

“That’s… really sad,” Shinjae commented, plunging the two into silence as neither knew what else to say. Was it sad? Perhaps it was, to an outsider. Yeong didn’t think it was sad. He got to spend his days looking after the man he loved, and he could think of nothing more fulfilling than that. Sure, it wasn’t an ideal situation, but he had made the best of it, and made peace with that, because he knew it wasn’t going to get any better.

At least, if they reset the past so that Gon and Taeeul never met, it wouldn’t get any worse, either. That is, until Gon found a different Queen, side lining Yeong once again. Pushing him away so the difference between their stations felt far wider than it already did, reducing Yeong to nothing more than a shadow who keeps his head down and follows orders without any shred of kindness or fondness passing between them, cementing his place as just another part of the machine.

Maybe Yeong’s life wasn’t so great in the Kingdom of Corea, after all. He may have grown up around royalty, but he could never be one of them, not really. No matter how high up the ranks he climbed, he would always be less than Lee-

“Gon!” Shinjae exclaimed, shoving Yeong’s arm and jolting him out of his thoughts. Sure enough, there was Gon, standing calmly and majestically amongst the crowd, sunlight beautifully reflecting off his effortlessly styled hair, totally unfazed by his uncle pointing a shotgun at him.

Shit! Lee Lim was pointing a shotgun at him!

Decades of training kicked into action as Yeong took aim and fired a bullet straight into Lee Lim’s leg, effectively disabling him. Yeong motioned to Shinjae to follow him as he got up to give Gon some backup, when a second shot was fired. Yeong started sprinting, unable to get the thought of something happening to Gon out of his mind, but when he got there, Gon was fine.

And Lee Lim had taken a bullet right through his brain.

The noise from the street turned into a cacophony of screams as onlookers noticed the dead body in the middle of the pavement. Shinjae appeared to be trying to calm them down, assuring them that the police were there and were handling it, but Yeong was far more concerned about who had taken the second shot. Was it one of Lee Lim’s men who had been aiming for Gon and missed? He scanned the surrounding buildings, looking for any little nooks or open windows where an assassin might have been hiding, but he couldn’t see anything. The killer must have run away once he’d realised he’d killed the wrong guy, not wanting to get into any trouble. If it was just a random goon, Yeong decided the killer probably wasn’t going to be much of a threat, but he was still on edge, looking for anything out of the ordinary,
in case the killer wanted to come back and have another go.

“Are you looking for the killer, Yeong-ah?”

Yeong took a sharp intake of breath as he turned to see Gon smiling down at him, after just whispering in his ear. How Gon could be so blasé about the whole thing, Yeong couldn’t believe, but that was one of the things Yeong loved most about him. Even in the toughest situations, even when he had the weight of a country on his shoulders, he stayed cool and calm and collected, like he didn’t have a care in the world. It was a skill Yeong wished he could copy, and one he knew he’d never be able to.

“I only ask,” Gon continued, glancing to the side, “because I think I might have found him.”

Yeong’s head whipped to where Gon was looking, searching for anyone that looked like they could be one of Lee Lim’s men, but instead he saw Lieutenant Jeong Taeeul, and his Korean counterpart Jo Eunseob, who was waving at them, and holding a gun.

His gun. How the hell did Eunseob manage to get his hands on one of his guns?!

“Looks like you need to take better care of your property,” Gon said, patting Yeong on the back as he strolled over towards his girlfriend, leaving Yeong in a state of shock.

Did- Did Jo Eunseob just kill Lee Lim? No, it must have been Taeeul, surely it was Taeeul, it couldn’t have been anyone but Taeeul.

As much as Yeong didn’t want to have to see Gon reunite with his girlfriend, he had to go over there and find out what the hell was going on, because what he thought had happened surely could not have been what had actually happened.

When he got there, Eunseob was animatedly telling Gon all about how Taeeul had figured out something was up with Shinjae, so they had tracked his phone and followed him and Yeong to this area, and then when Lee Lim had appeared (“out of thin air like whoosh!”) Eunseob had recognised him as the guy who had shot him, and decided to get his own back. And it had worked. And-

“You could have killed His Majesty!” Yeong exclaimed, as it dawned on him that Eunseob definitely had next to no gun proficiency. “You - did it even cross your mind once that maybe you could have missed, that you could have killed His Majesty, or any one of the members of the public?! How did you even get a hold of my gun anyway? Jeong Taeeul, surely you know better than to let Jo Eunseob hold an active firearm! You love His Majesty, don’t you? How could you put him in such danger? We had everything under control already!”

Jeong Taeeul looked shocked at Yeong’s outburst. Eunseob looked as if he was about to cry.

“I’m sorry Yeongie!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Yeong in a massive hug. “I’m really sorry, I’m sorry for stealing your gun and I’m sorry for putting Gon in danger, but at least he’s not gonna be in any more danger, right? Now that his meanie uncle is gone, he doesn’t need to worry anymore!”

Yeong exchanged a glance with Gon - and Shinjae too, who had come to join them. If Gon was going to go to the past, he’d be putting himself in unnecessary danger yet again. Yeong knew it was for the best, and resetting Taeeul would be a plus, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Gon going back on his own once again. He’d have to go with him, Yeong decided. Protect his King at all costs.

“Hey,” Taeeul interjected, staring sternly at the three of them, “what’re all those looks for? Do you three know something I don’t?”

They all stayed silent.

“Lee Gon,” she continued, “I am your girlfriend.” Yeong saw Shinjae’s face fall.

“And I love you,” said Gon, who was crossing his fingers behind his back.

“I know. So, if you love me so much, why don’t you tell me what’s going on, hm? I think I deserve to know.” She folded her arms and stared up at Gon, whose resolve was failing more each second. He looked to Yeong for moral support, but Yeong was not about to give him any in matters concerning Taeeul. For this, he was on his own.

“Agh fine,” Gon conceded, unable to make eye contact with Taeeul, “I was planning to take Lee Lim’s half of the Manpasikjeok and go back in time to kill him, ok? That way neither world would be messed up with people who aren’t meant to be there.”

“So that means- that means…” Taeeul trailed off, coming to the same conclusion they all came to when they heard Gon’s plan. “I would never have met you. I’d never see you again.”

“Or me,” Shinjae interjected, “I’m from the other world too, so you wouldn’t know me, either. And I wouldn’t know you.”

“Oh, Lee Gon you piece of shit!” Taeeul cried, banging her fists against Gon’s chest before burying her face in it and holding him in a tight embrace. And completely ignoring Shinjae. “How do you expect me to live without you? You can’t- you can’t do this to me! You can’t make me forget!”

Gon held her close. How come she got to be the person Gon could let himself be touched by? Yeong couldn’t envision a universe where Taeeul would use that privilege to hold him gently and kindly, with the tenderness and softness Gon needs, has needed for a long time. Taeeul wouldn’t know that’s what he needs, because she’s only seen him from time to time, in short bursts, where he’s been nothing but the perfect boyfriend, the perfect King. She hasn’t been with him since he was young, hasn’t seen him struggle, hasn’t seen him cry.

Couldn’t she understand that this was hard for him too? Deep down, Yeong knew that she could understand, she did understand, she was just hurting and this was just his response to having had enough, but even so! She did not deserve him. And that wasn’t his jealousy clouding his judgment.

“I have to,” Gon gently whispered, stroking Taeeul’s hair in a calming motion, “it’s the only way. But I’ll find you - if I go into the place between worlds, I’ll manipulate all of time and space to find you again once I’m done. I promise. And then you can fall in love with me all over again.”

Yeong wanted to be sick. Looking at Shinjae, he was sure that he was feeling the exact same way.

“Hey, uhh, guys, just a thought.” The group turned away from Taeeul and Gon’s touching moment to look at Eunseob, who seemed to be in the middle of having his first ever intelligent thought. “Gon, if you go into the past, and the in-between place, are you saying you’ll remember everything?”

“I think so. Knowing the truth of what has happened is a burden I have to bear.”

“Ok, ok, but hear me out. What if we all went into the in-between place? If we all go, then we’ll all remember! Then you guys don’t need to be all sad because then you can stay together, and Shinjae can still live in our world, and Yeongie - Yeongie can still remember me!”

Ohh Jo Eunseob, that smart, stupid prick. Couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut just this once? Couldn’t he have had an idea that meant that Yeong didn’t have to spend an eternity with Jeong Taeeul?! That was the one good thing about resetting the universes!

Unfortunately, while Yeong was weighing up the pros and cons of death by fire, His Royal Majesty King Lee Gon seemed to think it was a great idea, looking in equal parts dumbfounded and ecstatic. “Jo Eunseob,” he exclaimed, “you are a genius! I am promoting you from Unbreakable Sword to Chief Advisor!”

Yeong’s mouth hung open in shock. There was a position higher than Unbreakable Sword? And the person he gave it to was Jo fucking Eunseob?! Was he being replaced - no, overtaken - by his doppelganger? Lee Gon that son of a bitch! How dare he! Had Eunseob trained since he was four years old to get such a high ranking in Corea’s court? No he had not! Just because they had the same faces did not mean that they were the same people, and Gon should realise how foolish he was to just be saying these things to anyone, because then these people might think that their ideas to keep Gon and Taeeul together are actually good and aghhhh Yeong was a hair’s breath away from killing both of them and then himself!

But of course, Gon was joking. And Yeong knew that. He did. Honest. Even if it created a pain deep in his chest every time Gon made a ‘joke.’

Piece of shit doppelganger. Stupid idiot handsome King.

“Yeong-ah? Jo Yeong?” Gon was talking, and the others were all staring at him. How long had he been zoned out?

“Yes, Your Majesty?” he asked nervously, praying Gon wasn’t about to say something that would make his bad day even worse.

“I was saying how it’ll be great if we can all remember, because then I’ll have Taeeul to talk to in the palace, so I won’t need to bother you quite so much and take up all your time, so you can finally have that holiday! Isn’t that great?”

Fuck.

Fucking fuckity shit fuck goddamn bastard son of a bitch Yeong was gonna fucking kill Jo Eunseob! That little shit’s big idea was going to ruin his goddamn life!

As he solemnly nodded in answer to Gon’s question, Yeong could feel Shinjae’s concerned gaze boring into his soul, but he didn’t need pity, he needed someone to fucking do something about it.

Why, oh why couldn’t they have just reset everything?

***

Lee Gon was buzzing all the way to the bamboo forest. For so long he had been depressing himself with the thought of having to say goodbye to Taeeul forever, Taeeul whom he’d been searching for since he was eight years old, Taeeul whom he’d found and didn’t want to let go of again, and now he didn’t have to! Thanks to Jo Eunseob, his life was finally on track again, and things were looking up!

Although the new portal took a bit of finding, (because of course they needed to find a third random place in the woods), soon enough the group was all crowded in front of it, gazing up in awe at the twin obelisks veined with glowing orange streaks of magic. It still shocked Gon’s scientific mind, but what other explanation was there? Here he was, standing in an alternate universe, in a group of people with two Jo Yeongs, looking at a magic portal. His eight-year-old self wouldn’t believe a word of it.

Of course, they couldn’t stand around forever, so one-by-one the group made their way into the portal. Eunseob first - he was the one most excited about this whole thing - then Shinjae, then Taeeul, and then Yeong. His normally unshakeable Captain of the Royal Guard seemed hesitant to enter, taking a last look back at Gon with deep, sad eyes, before eventually joining the rest of them.

What could have made him hesitate? It’s not like he wasn’t accustomed to the whole different worlds thing at this point.

Gon shook his head to clear the thought from his mind. Now wasn’t the time for questioning anything, he had a job to do. With both halves of the Manpasikjeok in hand, he strode calmly but purposefully into the portal, and faced his friends.

“So,” Gon began, clasping his hands together and facing the ragtag crowd, “this is it. If Eunseob is right, this won’t be the end, and we’ll all be able to see each other again. However, there is a chance that being in here won’t save your memories, and this is the end of our friendship. There’s also a chance that I’ll get killed before I can come back to you all. In that instance, as King of Corea, with Captain Jo Yeong as my witness, I’d like to make Jeong Taeeul Queen of Corea, active as soon as everything gets back to normal. However, hopefully no one will get hurt, except Lee Lim, and she can become Queen the normal way. Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, don’t try and follow me, because I’ll come back to you when I’ve done my duty. Thank you all for sticking with me thus far, and if I don’t come back, know that I love you. All of you. But especially Taeeul. Jeong Taeeul, I am so in love with you, and I will always be in love with you, no matter what.”

Taeeul mouthed back that she loved him too, which brought a smile to his face. If there’s anything about this that his eight-year-old self really wouldn’t believe, it’s that he had finally managed to find Jeong Taeeul.

“Ok great, touching speech Lee Gon,” Shinjae said, rolling his eyes and rudely interrupting his and Taeeul’s moment, “but are you going to stand here confessing your love to Taeeul all day, or are you going to go and save the universe?”

“Right! Saving the universe, right, that’s what I was doing. I guess this is goodbye, for now.” Gon finished off with a wave, and turned to walk towards his own universe, twenty-six years ago. He didn’t look back - there was no point making his goodbye any harder. He didn’t let himself think of everything that could go wrong, because nothing would go wrong, because he’s Lee fucking Gon, King of the Kingdom of Corea, and he’d let no one get in his way. Not Lee Lim, not his men, not anyone.

“Your Majesty, wait!”

Gon just smiled to himself. Maybe Lee Lim wouldn’t get in his way, but of course Jo Yeong would try. Gon couldn’t ask for a guard more loyal.

“Let me guess, Yeong-ah, you want to come along?” he asked, turning round to see Yeong running to catch him up, in his perfect form honed by decades of training. Objectively, it was a beautiful sight to see, Yeong’s power evident in every movement. When he caught up, there was no sign at all that he’d just sprinted all this way, save for a slightly deeper movement of his broad chest.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Let me go with you, wherever it is you end up, whichever battles you have to face, whether we return from them or not. I want to be there with you. Please.” Yeong gazed up at him, eyes full of that same emotion Gon saw before, just before he entered the portal, and again Gon wondered what the hell had got into him.

Yeong was probably just worried about him, Gon decided. It was only natural, after all, for the Captain of the Royal Guard to be worried about his King’s safety, and Gon really had been doing his best to make Yeong worry recently. Maybe he should let Yeong come along, then. He was likely owed it, and Gon supposed it would be nice to have company.

So Gon nodded for him to follow, and carried on walking.

Yeong followed immediately, falling into stride easily beside him. Even after all this, that was one thing that hadn’t changed. He still had his Captain by his side. That thought alone was enough to replenish the fire of determination in his heart, giving him a boost of confidence that he definitely didn’t need, but was certainly glad to have anyway.

Cheonjongo was quieter than Gon remembered it, on the night of his father’s death. He hadn’t noticed it so much the last time he saved himself, having been too caught up in doing what needed to be done, but this time the silence was amplified by the weight of the tension between him and his Captain. Of course brave, stubborn, loyal Jo Yeong would want to accompany him, there until the very end. Of course staying behind wouldn’t be an order he could follow. Gon knew all that, and he knew he knew that when he had let Yeong come with him on his suicide mission.

Gon looked over at his Captain, his companion, his friend. On this day, when they were just boys, Gon didn’t even know Yeong’s name and now- now he couldn’t imagine his life without him. In all the ups and downs of his life, all the twists and turns of being a king, Jo Yeong had been there by his side, and here he was, right at the end, sticking with him no matter what.

No one could ask for a better friend. Lord knows Gon didn’t deserve him.

“Your Majesty,” Yeong whispered, staring straight ahead, paralysed as if struck by some invisible force, “is that..?”

Gon closed his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath to level himself before going to face the death of his father for the third time. He couldn’t back down now. He couldn’t do that to Yeong.

“Yes,” Gon finally said, pulling out his gun and taking off the safety, “yes, it is.”

Yeong only nodded, pulling out his own gun with a steely confidence forged by his years of experience. It only took one look from Gon for Yeong to know when to enter the fight, and from that moment, it was like time had stopped.

All Gon was aware of was Lee Lim’s men, taking them down one after another. He trusted that Yeong was doing the same, because he didn’t have the opportunity to check. One down, then another, then another, until only Lee Lim was left, standing under the moonlight of the broken window, Manpasikjeok in his bloody hand. Gon hid behind a pillar, catching his breath, not wanting to be seen, but when he emerged, Lee Lim was gone.

There were a couple of stragglers left, which Gon dealt with swiftly, helped with a couple of shots from Yeong, who had found his past self and was holding him close. Yeong’s breathing was heavy, he was knelt on the floor with clear fatigue on his face, a dash of blood dribbling down his left cheek, and…

And a bullet wound, seeping blood through his chest.

No, no, no! This couldn’t be it, this couldn’t be how Yeong, his Jo Yeong, his Unbreakable Sword, this couldn’t be how he- how he- Gon couldn’t even bring himself to think it. Yeong fell onto his hands, and Gon rushed over to him, escaped traitor be damned, and held him close, feeling like he should say something but not having the words to say it. Though his eyes were closing, Yeong looked up at him and smiled. Even in his final moments, Yeong was thinking of him, making it easier for him to see him go. Yeong gestured for Gon to lean closer, and he did, bringing his face close to Yeong’s own, touching their foreheads against each other.

“You know,” Yeong whispered, clutching tightly onto Gon’s shaking arm, “today I have had the most awful, awful day,” and Gon laughed, because what else could he do? Unless he could stop time, there was nothing else to do except be there in his best friend’s final moments.

Unless he could stop time.

He could stop time.

He could stop time!

Wasting no more precious seconds, Gon scooped Yeong up into his arms and sprinted back towards the bamboo forest, picking up the Four Tiger Sword on the way. Lee Lim was there, standing in the snow, portal already open, and then he wasn’t, because his head was on the ground, separated from his body for good.

Maybe in another timeline, Gon would have had time to confront him properly, to prolong his death and make it hurt, but this was not that timeline. In that moment, there were more important things than a traitor to the crown, and that important thing was in Gon’s arms, taking more shallow breaths every passing second, losing more blood than was stored in all the blood banks in Corea.

Lee Lim did not deserve a dramatic death. Not when Yeong’s life was on the line.

Gon grabbed the Manpasikjeok and raced into the portal, into the place between worlds. Taeeul, Shinjae, and Eunseob were there, back near the gate to their world, so close yet so far away. As soon as Taeeul saw them she got up and started running, and the distance between them closed ever so surely, metre by metre, until the
world went black.

And Lee Gon woke up at home.

Chapter Text

Jo Yeong!

That was the only thought occupying Lee Gon’s mind as he sat bolt upright in bed, his long coat and turtleneck jumper from just a few seconds ago replaced by a luxurious set of silk pyjamas. He scanned around the room, but Yeong was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe he was fine! Maybe the universe had done some spooky magic thing and fixed him and he’d come through the majestic double doors to Gon’s bedroom as if nothing had happened, ready to start the day.

Gon looked at the clock. It was half past six. Where was Yeong usually at half past six in the morning? He wouldn’t still be at home, would he? No, Yeong had told him before that he clocked into the palace at six- to train! To work out! Yeong would be in the gym! And he was probably fine, of course he was fine, but it wouldn’t do any harm to check, right?

Wasting no more time, Gon leaped out of bed, grabbing his dressing gown and putting on his slippers as he went, and walked, and then jogged, and then sprinted all the way to the gym. And he was just about to round the corner when he heard one of the servants scream.

Because Jo Yeong was lying on the floor in a growing pool of his own blood.

Gon could feel his breath catch in his throat. This… this was his fault. If he hadn’t let Yeong go with him, if he hadn’t taken him back, if he hadn’t stopped Yeong from being reset-

No. Focus, Lee Gon. This was not the time to panic.

With a trembling hand trying that was trying so hard to be strong, Gon leaned over to check his pulse, and his breathing. Both there, but weak. Too weak. He called, cried, screamed for a doctor, but no one came. And no one came, and no one came. Gon tried blocking the wound himself with his hands, but it wasn’t doing anything except spreading the blood around and making it look as if he’d been the one to hurt his friend.

Hurt, because he wasn’t dead yet. And he wasn’t going to die.

Finally, a doctor came after an age of year-long seconds. Gon looked up at him, wanting to explain but not finding the words. How could he explain why Yeong was bleeding out from a gun wound in the secure palace gym, with no shot having sounded? The situation was impossible!

“Your Majesty…” the doctor breathed, after surveying the situation. Even the doctor didn’t know what to say. It didn’t matter anyway, there was only one thing to say, only one thing to do.

“Save him.” The words came out ugly, guttural, morphed by choked back sobs into something so raw it was almost unrecognisable. Gon didn’t think he had ever wanted anything more - even when he wanted revenge on Lee Lim, even when he wanted to find Jeong Taeeul, for Jeong Taeeul to love him as he loved her, those paled in comparison to his want, his need to see Jo Yeong alive and well and by his side.

The doctor acted right away, calling the nearby servants to help take Yeong somewhere cleaner, somewhere he could operate on Yeong that would be safe. Gon could only think of one such place.

“Take him to my quarters,” Gon said, strong, commanding, putting on the aura of a king to cast his doubts away.

The doctor was shocked. Why was the doctor shocked?

“But Your Majesty,” he asked, “wouldn’t a guest room be more suitable? Captain Jo could be recovering for days, weeks-“

“Enough! I want him in my room, so stop wasting time and take him there! If he dies because he was left too long then his blood will be on your hands!” Gon was shaking. Clearly, visibly shaking, but if the doctor or the servants had noticed then they didn’t say anything. They took Yeong away, leaving Gon in the gym alone, save for the pool of Yeong’s blood.

With no one there to watch him anymore, Gon sank to his knees and sobbed. Huge, powerful sobs, that rattled his body with every breath, that hurt, that hurt so much, but there was nothing he could do to stop them coming. All he could see was Yeong hunched on the ground in Cheonjongo, Yeong’s life slipping from his eyes as Gon carried him to the portal, Yeong on the floor of the gym, so still he looked like a corpse.

This… this couldn’t be it, could it? The doctors were going to save him, and he was going to be fine, and Gon could have his friend- his best friend back, and he was going to be fine.

He was going to be fine.

He wasn’t going to leave Gon alone.

Lee Lim wasn’t going to take another person that Gon loved. Not on his watch. He would not give him that satisfaction.

Gon slammed his fist on the floor, landing in the pool of blood and causing flecks to go flying everywhere. Looking at the room now, it really did look like he had killed Yeong. Hurt Yeong. But it wasn’t his fault, it was Lee Lim’s fault, it was the guy who had shot Yeong’s fault. It wasn’t Gon’s fault.

In fact, Yeong knew what he was doing when he became a Royal Guard, became Captain of the Royal Guard. Gon hadn’t forced him to do that, so it wasn’t Gon’s fault.

Yeong wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest, and that wasn’t Gon’s fault.

Gon hadn’t forced him to come to Cheonjongo, so it wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his fault.

This was bound to happen at some point, it wasn’t his fault.

Yeong was meant to be unbreakable! His Unbreakable Sword! He wasn’t the one who had broken his Unbreakable Sword, so it wasn’t his fault!

Why was his Unbreakable Sword broken? This wasn’t- Gon hadn’t planned for this, had never thought it a possibility! It was against the laws of nature, against the laws of the universe itself!

But Yeong was hurt because he went outside the universe. Was still hurt because Gon had taken him outside the universe.

That was Gon’s fault. Yeong’s blood was on his hands, literally and figuratively.

And if Yeong- if his Jo Yeong died, if he didn’t wake up, Gon didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself.

It took far too long for the doctors to be finished with Yeong. Every so often, a doctor or a servant went in or out of Gon’s room, always in a hurry, always with concerned looks on their faces, but apart from that, the doors were locked. Even to Gon himself.

After much persuasion, Gon had finally been prised away from the door and forced to wash and get dressed, clearing his body of the filth from the gym. He was clean, he knew he was clean, but he could still feel the stickiness of the blood on his hands, up his arms, on his face.

The last time he had been so covered in blood was that night, twenty-six years ago in Cheonjongo, when he was eight years old. When he had first seen his father’s corpse under the moonlight, his uncle first exposed for who he truly was. When he had been saved by a mysterious figure that he thought was Jeong Taeeul, and then realised was himself, and now?

He didn’t even know anymore. Didn’t want to try and understand what he’d done to the timeline.

It was odd, to see himself. To see his young body, frightened and alone and helpless, curled up in Yeong’s arms and reaching for his hand.

Yeong. It always came back to Jo Yeong.

Loyal, brave, selfless Jo Yeong, willing to die for his King.

He hadn’t always been like that, hadn’t always been this super-soldier, cold and unfeeling but deadly in combat. Gon didn’t know how it had happened, hadn’t realised something had changed in his old friend until it was too late, and the change had been made.

Was that Gon’s fault too? The metamorphosis of Jo Yeong from a human into a weapon?

If Yeong hadn’t become a weapon, hadn’t become Gon’s broken Unbreakable Sword, then he’d be standing with Gon right now.

Gon slid down against the door, the weight of his grief and his guilt not letting him stand up anymore. He had failed – as a king, to protect his subject, and as a friend.

It would be a miracle if Yeong wanted anything to do with him when he woke up. If he woke up. When he woke up. Yeong wasn’t a fool, Yeong would know exactly with whom the blame lied.

Leaning back against the door, Gon sighed, letting salty tears prick his eyes once again, their sting amplified by the soreness already there from the hours of crying before. A couple of those tears escaped – Gon didn’t have the energy to try and stop them, nor did he have the energy to force more out for the catharsis they brought.

If only Corea could see him now. Their strong, confident, powerful leader, reduced to a weeping wreck over a friend who wasn’t even dead. He refused to end that sentence with ‘yet.’

A servant opened the door, causing Gon to fall backwards with an undignified yelp as he looked up into the startled face of a poor girl carrying used medical equipment. Gon hurriedly got up, brushing the dust off his clothes and praying that his face looked calm and collected and serene and not at all red and blotchy and worried. He surveyed the room – everyone was staring at him (save Yeong) with looks ranging from annoyance to surprise to pity.

Well, Gon supposed, it wasn’t the worst crowd he’d ever faced. Lifting his chin up and squaring his shoulders, he decided that now was as good a time as any to work that Kingly Charm and redirect their attention to something that wasn’t him making a fool of himself.

“Any updates on Yeong?” he asked, trying so damn hard to be casual when what he really wanted to know was ‘is he going to die?’ and ‘is this all my fault?’

With a last glance over at the sleeping Captain, the doctor that came and saw him first answered, “He’s stable, Your Majesty. Just. But he’s not showing any signs of waking up just yet.”

Ok, that was ok, right? He wasn’t dead. Stable meant not dead. He’d get his Yeong back.

“Your Majesty,” the doctor continued, sensing Gon’s pause, “since his condition is delicate, I would suggest not moving him-“

“Then don’t move him.”

“But Your Majesty…” the doctor faltered, his mouth twitching but making no sound as he struggled to phrase what he wanted to say next, “Your Majesty won’t want to sleep in a guest room, will you?”

“No,” Gon agreed, “I will be sleeping here.”

“With Captain Jo?”

“There’s more than enough room for both of us in that bed, isn’t there? And that way if he wakes up in the night, I can be the first to know. Just as if he wakes up in the day, I want to be the first to know.”

The doctor bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Gon looked over at Yeong on the bed, silently willing him to open his eyes and get up like everything was fine. Sure, he wouldn’t wake up for those insignificant doctors, but this was Gon! King Lee Gon! Yeong had to wake up for him!

But he didn’t. His eyes stayed closed, the beeping of his heart monitor stayed constant, and Gon stayed alone.

This- this was so much worse than the last time he’d had someone else in his bed, when Taeeul had been captured and injured and received the same treatment Yeong was receiving now. At least Taeeul had woken up, had injuries that were bad, but not life-threatening. With Yeong, the pain gripping Gon’s chest felt deeper, somehow, maybe because his injuries were worse, or because Yeong had been by his side for longer, or because this was all his fault.

It wasn’t even worth trying to compare this to before. Especially not when, in this timeline, ‘before’ hadn’t even happened, anyway.

“Your Majesty.” It was that doctor again. He was wringing his hands, avoiding eye contact with Gon. He was nervous – of course he was nervous, he was clever, a man of science, he would know that this was Gon’s fault, Yeong was dying and it was his fault, he would know! “Your Majesty, I have to ask, do you know how Captain Jo ended up with this wound? He was fine when he came into the palace this morning, and there are no guns in the palace, and no one heard anything. It just seems… odd.”

He knew. The doctor was asking Gon because he knew that it was Gon’s fault – he was trying to suss him out! Get him to confess! Well not today, doctor. King Lee Gon will not give in so easily.

“I’m sorry, doctor.” Yes, that’s it Gon, say it with a smile, smile like you mean it. “I don’t know how this could have happened.”

“Would you like me to ask for an investigation?”

Fuck! No!

“No,” Gon said, as calmly as he could manage, straightening his back and shaking his head to clear any doubts, “no, that will not be necessary. Thank you.”

“But Your Majesty-“

“That will be all.”

And with that, Gon turned and walked away, keeping his head high until as soon as he was out of sight, where he braced himself against the wall and took some very deep breaths. In, then out.

In, then out.

In, then out.

This… this was too much. He couldn’t be around the palace, around Yeong, around the Kingdom anymore. There was only one place he could think to go.

With a newfound determination, he turned and strode powerfully, gracefully, all the way to the stables. Picking up his riding crop, he mounted Maximus and rode, relishing the feel of the wind in his hair as she galloped deep into the forest.

This was where he could truly be free. There was a world, a whole other world, now he had the whole Manpasikjeok there were endless parallel worlds for him to visit, and they were all better than this one. He could be free, he could be nobody, he could be –

Stuck. He could be stuck.

Because he was at the place where his portal was meant to be, yet no obelisks were there to greet him.

Gon looked down at his riding crop, willing the magic to work, to send him through, when it dawned on him.

He had the whole Manpasikjeok.

He did not have half the Manpasikjeok in his riding crop.

This was an ordinary riding crop.

And he didn’t know where the Manpasikjeok was.

***

It was 2:36 AM, and Lee Gon, King of the Kingdom of Corea, could not sleep.

It was the beeping, he told himself. The steady beeping of Yeong’s heart rate monitor, but if he was being honest with himself, that had faded into white noise hours ago.

No, it was something else.

It was everything else.

Where was the Manpasikjeok? It must have been thrown out of the portal dimension just as he and Yeong were, but where was it?

Think, Lee Gon, think. You’re a mathematician, use that clever little brain of yours and figure it out.

What did he already know? He’d woken up in bed, at 6:30 exactly. Yeong had been at the gym – Yeong was in the gym when the portal chucked him out. Was already awake, then.

Of course he was already awake – he had been told by the doctor that Yeong had walked into the palace that morning, completely fine. So that can’t have been his Yeong.

That was Yeong from this timeline. They had reset the timeline all the way back in 1994, and up until this moment, that timeline had continued unaffected. However, because he and Yeong were in the portal dimension, they were from a different timeline – the original timeline. Well, not quite original, but the only person really affected by his first timeline shift was Taeeul, not Yeong.

Their own personal timelines hadn’t been affected, so their internal time must have carried on as normal, and with the time they spent in the portal dimension, and the time they spent back in 1994-

That would take them to roughly 6:30 the next morning, when they were sent back out into the present. And that was the time they arrived.

The timelines converged at 6:30 that morning, and they were replaced to where they should have been in the new timeline. So the Manpasikjeok was where it would have been had Lee Lim not been killed, which was…

Gon had no idea. He’d never lived through a timeline where he’d had the whole Manpasikjeok before, so he had no freaking clue. Maybe he would have known once, when he was child, but he was a child then! It’s not like he actually paid attention to 99% of the shit adults spoke to him about!

Curse his stupid tiny mind! Why couldn’t he have known that his 34-year-old self would depend on him for this knowledge?

He debated going back in time and making sure his younger self knew this vital piece of information, but oh wait! He didn’t have the Manpasikjeok to do even that!

He sighed. King Lee Gon, failure yet again. Only one day without his Captain and he was already coming apart at the seams.

His Captain.

Gon shifted over in his bed to turn and face his sleeping friend. The light of the medical equipment cast a faint glow on his serene face, making him look almost ghostly in the otherwise pitch-black room. The stark shadows accentuated the angles of his face, which Gon had never really taken the time to notice before. Though it was clear he wasn’t well, with his pale lips and deep, dark shadows under his eyes, Yeong was… beautiful.

Beautiful and ethereal, untouchable in the pale glow, though Gon couldn’t have been more than a foot away from him.

Gon smiled to himself. After all this was over, after Yeong had recovered and Lee Lim was a distant memory, he was going to get Yeong a girlfriend. That would have to be enough of an apology, to let him feel the love that Gon himself felt with Jeong Taeeul, to have that life partner that would stick by him, no matter what.

Perhaps that would help him, Gon thought. Help him become less a weapon, more a person again. To find the one person he could truly be himself around and let go of everything Gon had brought upon him. That would make Gon happy too, to see his friend finally unburdened, finally joyful, finally free.

That’s what Yeong deserved, more than anything, far more than Gon did. To be free.

Yet he was stuck, his sleeping form in Gon’s bed a physical reminder of how trapped he was. For now, he was trapped in his mind, but even when he woke up he’d be trapped in his place, confined to the shadows, to his place of servitude, while Gon got all the glory.

Why hadn’t Yeong been born the prince and Gon the servant? Why was Yeong the one cursed to have none of the love? To give his heart, give his soul, and get nothing good in return?

Even Eunseob had Nari. And there was another Nari in this world, wasn’t there? She worked at the palace - Myeong Seungah!

When Yeong woke up, he’d introduce them. Then his Yeong could be loved, and the world would finally be right.

Though it wasn’t much, this small promise helped to calm Gon’s racing mind, acting as an anchor of glimmering hope to hold onto, to remind himself that there was good. That he could be good, he was good.

He was a good friend, and even if he’d got Yeong hurt, he’d make it up to him.

Turning back over, a smile ghosting his lips, Gon finally fell asleep.

***

It was dark, in Cheonjongo. Dark except for the solitary, ghostly moonlight illuminating the centre and the man who stood in the centre.

Lee Lim. Blood on his face, Manpasikjeok in hand.

Manpasikjeok! That’s where it went!

Gon pushed himself forwards, Four Tiger Sword in hand, ready to exact the vengeance he’d waited 26 years for. Lee Lim just stood there, laughing in the pale light as the Manpasikjeok crumbled to dust in his hands.

The timeline… had it changed again?

No! No, he needed that!

In a burst of fiery emotion erupting from the pit of his stomach, Gon slashed upwards, not caring where it went as long as he inflicted pain.

Lee Lim sank to the floor, still laughing. Gon bent down to his level, to tell him it was over, to shout, to yell, but as soon as he knelt, his uncle stopped.

Gon turned him over, and it wasn’t his uncle anymore.

Jo Yeong’s pale, lifeless face stared up at him, eyes open but glassy, a small trickle of blood leaking out of his half-open mouth. Gon shook him, but he didn’t wake.

“No,” he whispered, and then more loudly, “No!”

“No!” he shouted at no one, “No! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll make it better! I can fix this! I’m not- I didn’t mean to-“

“You’re a killer, Lee Gon.” Yeong’s dead face stared up at him, his low voice scratchy, yet strong, filling up every corner of Gon’s mind. “Your incompetence killed your father, and your friendship killed me.”

“No, no Yeong I’m making it better! I’m making it better!”

“You’ve been killing me every day since I was four. My blood has always been on your hands.”

His hands felt sticky, slimy. Gon brought them up so he could see, and Yeong was right. Thick, wet blood oozed from his palms, his fingers, and dripped onto the floor by his feet.

Drip. He killed Yeong.

Drip. This was his fault.

Drip. He killed Yeong.

Drip. He killed Yeong.

Drip. He killed Yeong.

“Your Majesty,” Yeong’s corpse said, lilting and mocking.

Drip. He didn’t deserve that title.

“Your Majesty,” he said again, more forceful this time. He stood, body moving stiffly, unnaturally, head resting to the side like Gon knew it did when he was confused. Yeong wasn’t confused now. He bent down, picking up the sword that Gon had abandoned, offering it to him.

When Gon held it, it turned red, the blood on his hands covering it completely.

This was who he was. A murderer. A tyrant. A killer.

He didn’t deserve to be king. Didn’t deserve Yeong. Didn’t deserve anything.

Yeong’s dead eyes bored into him. They offered no sympathy as Gon rested the sword against his neck, only vaguely aware of the blood now dripping down his shoulder, down his chest and back.

Yeong smiled and bowed his head, with a final snide, “Your Majesty,” as Gon sliced the Four Tiger Sword across his own neck.

***

“Your Majesty!”

Gon awoke with a start, taking quick, deep breaths as he looked around the room. His room. He was there and Yeong was there and Yeong was alive and there was a woman at the door and she respected him and everything was fine.

“Your Majesty,” she said again, eyeing Yeong in the bed next to him. The woman was Seungah! Of course, of course she’d be looking for Yeong! They were this world’s Eunseob and Nari! “I’m sorry for disturbing you at this time in the morning, but at this point I have no other choice.”

Gon frowned. “Go on.”

“Your Majesty, there’s this one man who has been pestering me incessantly on the phones, ever since yesterday.”

“Some crazed fan?”

“That’s what I thought, but they usually give up after a while. This guy though, he kept at it, kept demanding to talk to you because he said you knew him.”

“Well, I admire his determination, but I still don’t see how this is an issue.”

“Now we have him in custody, Your Majesty, because he came to the palace gates this morning, demanding to see you. That’s all he did, all he has been doing for hours. I had to come in early today to deal with him!”

“Do you know who he is?”

“I don’t even think he does. On his ID card it said his name was Kang Hyeonmin, but when he was asking for you, he said to say that his name was Kang Shinjae. It’s all I’ve heard - let me talk to the King, tell him it’s Kang Shinjae!”

Shinjae. With everything that had been happening with Yeong, he had completely forgotten about Shinjae. Without Lee Lim, he never would have gone over to the other world, so…

“I know him,” said Gon, getting out of bed and going over to his dressing room, grabbing the first clothes he could see. “Tell him I’ll be there in ten minutes!” he continued, shouting from the other room so Seungah could hear.

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Is Yeong around?” Shinjae asked, still chained to the table in the interrogation room, where Gon sat across from him. There was no one else - Gon had requested total privacy, there was no need for others to start hearing about the other universe after all, but with the way Shinjae was staring him down, Gon was starting to wish he’d brought backup.

“No, I’m afraid Yeong is-“

“Good. Then there’ll be no consequences for what I’m about to say. You, King Lee Gon, are a royal fucking bastard. Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get in contact with you? Did you even once care to consider that I’d be trapped here in your godforsaken country, with no knowledge about my life at all?”

“Well, I-“

“I’m not done! They think I have amnesia, Gon! My family, who I don’t know, my work colleagues who I don’t know! Did you know Luna is a cop now? I didn’t until she texted me, like she was my friend?! Maybe she was Hyeonmin’s friend, but she’s not mine! How can I be expected to look her in the eye, how can I be expected to live here, to live this life? You have to take me back to the Republic!” Shinjae was panting, eyes wide and pleading.

Gon had hurt him too. He was beginning to think that maybe things would have been better if he had reset his friends, after all.

“Look, Shinjae, I-“

“What. You don’t care? Figures. You only care about Taeeul, anyway. I bet you’ve already gone to see her, I bet that’s why you were so occupied yesterday.”

Taeeul. Aside from a few passing thoughts, she hadn’t been on his mind at all. Gon was sure she’d understand - he did love her, of course he did, he just had to deal with his emergency first.

“No, actually. I was occupied, but not by Taeeul.”

“Then what?”

“Yeong.” Shinjae looked taken aback, but Gon couldn’t think why. Surely Shinjae had seen him carrying Yeong as they re-entered the portal dimension, and would have put two and two together.

“Yeong,” Shinjae repeated him, sitting back in his chair and smiling, just slightly, for the first time Gon had seen that day. “I see. So Yeong is more important to you than Taeeul?”

What kind of a question –

“He’s my friend,” Gon simply said, narrowing his eyes as he tried to suss Shinjae out, “I had to look after him, after he was shot.”

Shinjae abruptly stood up, knocking his chair against the wall behind him. “Yeong was shot?”

“One of Lee Lim’s men, when we went to Cheonjongo. Because he was hurt when I took him back through the portal, he was still hurt when we arrived back here.”

Shinjae sat back in his chair, trying to calm himself but with worry still clear in his eyes. “Is he ok? Alive, at least?”

“He’s alive,” Gon confirmed, taking a deep breath before admitting, “but he’s not awake. The doctor said he was stable, though, and I think that’s a good thing. He’s in my bed now, which is by far the comfiest bed in the Kingdom, so if he’s going to recover anywhere, it’s going to be there.”

“Hold on… he’s in your bed? Jo Yeong is in your bed?” Shinjae was trying to stifle a laugh. Why was he laughing? Yeong was hurt and he was laughing? Didn’t he understand that this was serious?

“Did you hear any of what I said before that?”

“Yeah, yeah I just - oh my God when he wakes up! I wish I could be there with a camera to capture the look on his face!” Shinjae was properly laughing now, laughing so uncontrollably it looked as if he’d never stop.

“What’s wrong with my bed?”

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing at all! It’s amazing!” Shinjae said, slapping his palm on the desk so hard it shook. “I take back everything I said about you, Lee Gon. You’re a great guy, you know exactly how to look after your Captain Jo.”

Gon sat up straight, putting on his best Kingly smile. Damn right he was a great guy. Damn right he knew how to look after Yeong.”

“Thank you,” he said, twirling a stray lock of hair, “I’m glad you’ve finally seen the light.”

“Oh, stop being such a self-absorbed prick.”

“I’ll have you beheaded.”

“You can behead me after you take me back home. To the Republic.”

Gon stalled. He didn’t - he didn’t have the Manpasikjeok. He couldn’t go back, Shinjae couldn’t go back.

“I… um… well… the thing is…” Gon trailed off, hesitant to admit his mistake. His failure.

“Oh my God, I don’t fucking believe it,” Shinjae said, after Gon had been silent just a bit too long. “You’ve lost it, haven’t you? Of course you have, of course I can’t depend on you for this one thing, this one very important thing.”

Gon bit his lower lip, and stayed silent.

Shinjae just cried out in despair, resting his head on the table, defeated.

Chapter Text

The first thing Jo Yeong noticed was the pain. The dull pain that had seeped into every part of his body, and the sharper pain around his chest, right next to his heart. Every breath felt like a stab from Gon’s Four Tiger Sword – even just moving his head to look around the room was excruciating.

The second thing Jo Yeong noticed was that he was no longer in Cheonjongo, nor did he appear to be in a hospital. Although he was definitely strapped up to some form of medical equipment, this bed was far too luxurious to be in any sort of care centre. Despite the pain he was in, on this mattress Yeong almost felt like he was floating on a cloud made of the softest candy floss.

The third thing Jo Yeong noticed was that he wasn’t alone – there was no mistaking the sound of deep breathing coming from his left-hand side. Had he been captured? It wasn’t outside the realms of possibility; maybe Lee Lim had captured him and was holding him hostage in one of the rooms in the palace, keeping him alive as bait for Gon.

Gon!

He couldn’t stay here. He knew Lee Gon, and he knew how stupid and reckless he would be, he just knew he would come and try to rescue him, oblivious to the consequences.

He had to get out. For Gon’s sake. No matter what physical state he was in.

Mission objective one: dispose of his guard.

Slowly, carefully, resisting the urge to cry out at the seething pain it brought, Yeong turned his head to look at who he was dealing with.

And looked into the face of Lee Gon, fast asleep next to him.

Wait, what?

No, no. No. No? What?!

Yeong took a sharp intake of breath and immediately regretted it, letting out a small cry before he could stop himself.

Was he dead?

That was the only reason Lee Gon could be sleeping next to him. He had died and gone to heaven, and was going to spend eternity living out his wildest fantasies.

But if he was in heaven, why was he in pain? Surely there wasn’t any pain in heaven.

Ok then, he was in hell, doomed to suffer eternally because of all the violence in his occupation, or something.

But if he was in hell, why was he in bed with Gon? If he was going to have a personal hellscape, it would be more like Gon finding out about his feelings and banishing him for his impropriety, or maybe Jeong Taeeul slowly driving a knife through his heart for eternity, or fuck even just everlasting paperwork would be enough to do it! But not – not this!

Or maybe it was this worrying that was his hellscape. He’d be left here for eternity, trying to figure out what the hell was going on and never knowing, ever.

It was a pretty nice view for a hellscape, though. Satan really could have tried a bit harder.

Although the light was dim, it was enough to make out his features; his high cheekbones, his sharp jawline, his cutely bed-ruffled hair, his beautiful deep eyes –

Fuck! Gon’s eyes were open! He was awake!

Yeong turned back over, shutting his eyes tight, trying to calm his frenzied breathing and hoping the light was dim enough that Gon couldn’t see the heat burning his cheeks.

“You’d try to lie to your King, Jo Yeong?” Gon drawled, amusement clear in his sleepy voice. He laughed, a small laugh but one that was enough to make Yeong’s frantic heart stop, just for a second. “I should have you beheaded for that.”

“Your Majesty,” Yeong started, praying that Gon couldn’t hear the quiver in his voice, “where am I? Am I dead? Am I in heaven? Hell? Some kind of purgatory?”

“No, Yeong-ah, you’re not dead, although at one point it sure looked like you might be. You’re in my bedroom now, and you’re safe.”

He was in Gon’s bedroom.

He was in Gon’s bed.

He was in Gon’s bed?!

This was real life, and he was in Gon’s bed!

What in the world had happened while he was asleep?

Did Gon have some kind of really convenient amnesia? One where he’d forget about Taeeul and somehow replace her in his head with him? Was that even possible?

“You know,” Gon murmured, lightly poking Yeong’s cheek, “Shinjae seemed to think it’d be funny when you woke up here. Do you think it’s funny? I don’t think it’s funny. I just wanted to give you the best, because you’re my best friend.” He paused. “I don’t tell you that enough.”

Ok, evidently convenient amnesia was not possible. It was a reach anyway, considering this was real life. Apparently. Even though Gon’s sleepy voice was making this ‘real life’ dangerously close to some kind of heaven.

“I know,” Yeong said, “that I’m your best friend, I mean, not that you don’t say it enough.” He smiled, muscles moving almost involuntarily because even they couldn’t help themselves when they were with Lee Gon. “I know you don’t say it enough too, though. But it’s ok. You don’t need to.” He really didn’t. Yeong didn’t know if he’d love to hear it, or hate it, but he knew he’d react strongly, no matter what, and he couldn’t do that in front of Gon.

Gon paused, and then whispered, so quietly Yeong could hardly hear, “Am I a good friend to you, Yeong-ah?”

Yeong turned over again, shutting his eyes as he winced but opening them to look at Gon properly. He was propped up on his side now, duvet slipping off his silk pyjamas, and was looking at Yeong with an expression Yeong had never seen adorn his face before.

No, that was a lie. He had seen it, twenty-six years ago in the months after Gon’s father’s death. It was weakness. Weakness and true sincerity, both of which were never seen in King Lee Gon.

It was uncomfortable, and yet comforting. Unnatural, and yet perfectly real.

And it was all Yeong could do not to give his answer in the form of a kiss to tell him it was fine, it was amazing, it was perfect. He was perfect. He didn’t need to worry, because he was perfect and he was enough and Yeong loved him so hard his heart felt like it was going to burst every time they were together.

But he couldn’t do that. They were friends – best friends – and nothing more.

“You are,” he eventually said, “you are the best friend I’ve ever had, and the best man I’ve ever known.” And I love you. “And you don’t need to worry about a thing, because” – I love you – “I know you, and I know you care, and that’s enough.”

“But –”

“No buts, Your Majesty. That’s enough.” You’re enough, and I love you!

“But I still want to make it better. I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.” You make me happy.

“But you could be happier! I want you to have what Taeeul and I have. Don’t you want to try dating? At all?”

Yes, with you! No one but you!

Yeong dropped his gaze, unable to meet Gon’s eyes anymore. Of course he was thinking about Taeeul, he couldn’t think about Yeong just once without also thinking of Lieutenant Jeong Taeeul.

Maybe he should try dating, if it would fill the hole she was ripping from his heart.

“Ok,” he sighed, swallowing down that little voice of hope that was clinging onto his foolish dream, “I’ll try. For you.”

Gon’s face lit up, and just for that, Yeong thought it might almost be worth it. Almost.

“Perfect!” he said, a sparkle now dancing in his eyes, “When you’re feeling better, I’ll arrange you a date with Myeong Seungah – if Eunseob likes Nari, you must like her, right?”

Jesus fucking Christ, it was too early in the morning to think about this. A date with Seungah would be a joke, not least because she was the only person in the palace who knew about his feelings for Gon – or did she? If the timeline had been reset, was she even working at the palace? And if she was, would she have seen that picture on his phone and just known, like she did in the original timeline?

Maybe it would be better if she didn’t, Yeong supposed. Then she wouldn’t be so much of a liability.

Although… Collaborating with her on her GonJo fanfics did make them amazing to read. How else could he truly indulge in his wildest fantasies, and then see other people on the internet supporting him too?

Yeong hoped to God that those fics still existed, even after the reset. He may not like her romantically, but he loved her for those.

“Look, Your Majesty,” Yeong started, wondering how on Earth to word ‘we’re already good friends and also I’m gay and in love with you and she knows that,’ –  “Myeong Seungah… she’s not exactly my type.”

“But you agreed with Eunseob when he was complimenting Nari!”

“I did that so I didn’t hurt his feelings. I like Seungah, but she’s not for me. We’re friends. Nothing more.”

“Yeong-ah,” Gon whined, pursing his lips into a pout and looking at Yeong like he was a puppy that had just been told he couldn’t have a treat, “you said you’d try it for me.”

“I said I’d try dating, I never agreed to dating Seungah. She’s really, really not my type.”

“What is your type then?”

You.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“If you’re not going to tell me, I’m going to assume you do actually like Seungah, and you’re just saying you don’t like her because you’re embarrassed. It’s ok, though, you don’t have to be embarrassed about anything, because I totally get it. You can be honest with me.”

Ha! If only. If only that had been Gon’s name instead of Seungah’s, if only he really could be honest about his feelings. What a joke. Honesty was for people who weren’t in love with their straight best friend.

“I’m being honest, Your Majesty. We’re friends, and we won’t ever be anything more.”

“Will you give it a try anyway? You won’t really know unless you try!”

Considering he didn’t like women, this was doubtful, but now was not the right time to tell that to Gon.

“Fine. I’ll try. Only because you’ll probably behead me if I say no.”

Gon smiled. “You know me too well.”

Yeong smiled too, despite everything. “I’m around you all the time; I don’t have a choice.”

Closing his eyes, Gon turned back over onto his side of the bed, settling back down, looking almost proud of himself. He probably was. He thought he was giving his best friend what he wanted, and it wasn’t like Yeong was telling him otherwise.

Stupid, oblivious, thoughtful, caring, perfect Gon. He was wasted on Taeeul.

“Yeong-ah,” Gon whispered again, and Yeong tried to imprint that moment into his memory forever - his name on Gon’s lips, while he was in Gon’s bed, and while he was in Gon’s thoughts. He doubted there would ever be another moment like it. “Please wake up again in the morning. I don’t want another day without you.”

Yeong followed Gon’s lead and shifted around so he was lying on his back again too, staring up at the ceiling above him. If this was heaven, he’d wake up every day to that ceiling, every day in this bed, every day to Gon lying next to him.

This wasn’t heaven. When he woke up again, he’d probably be transferred to another room in the palace, or to a hospital, or maybe even back to his apartment. Whatever the case, he wouldn’t be allowed to stay here, that much was certain.

This would be the first and last time he would fall asleep next to the love of his life. It was more than he had ever wished for, and yet now that it was happening…

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

He almost didn’t want to wake up again, after this. That way, this moment could last forever, this warped reality could be the last thing he’d ever experience.

But Gon wanted him awake. Gon wanted him alive. And more than anything, he couldn’t disobey his King. He couldn’t let his best friend down. He couldn’t abandon his love.

“Ok,” he said, willing tears away from his eyes as he sealed his fate, resigning himself to the real life outside this perfect bubble, “I’ll wake up, I promise. For you.”

***

Waking up was the biggest mistake Jo Yeong had ever made.

Waking up meant dealing with reality, with all the things he’d wished had been reset, had thought were going to be reset before Eunseob decided to meddle.

He thought the number one thing he wished would have been reset was going to be Jeong Taeeul. He was wrong.

The number one thing he wished would have been reset was opening up to Kang Shinjae, who was sitting by Yeong in Gon’s room, laughing his ass off.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes, “I just – you couldn’t make this stuff up!"

"You doubt the skills of the Kingdom’s fanfiction writers. This has been made up a thousand times over, except then it does tend to end in hot, passionate lovemaking, instead of him trying to set me up with someone else.” Yeong held his head in his hands and groaned. What the hell had he agreed to? Now Gon was going to be all up in his love life, and that was the last thing he wanted. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the truth, especially if Kang Shinjae had managed to do it – and he hadn’t even seen the Lee Gon calendar Yeong had by his bedside table, or any of the secrets he’d spilled into the notes app on his phone.

In fairness, Gon hadn’t seen those either, but still! Shinjae had known him for a few months, but Gon had known him for twenty-six years!

“People write fanfiction about you two?” Shinjae asked, his face a picture of disbelief.

“This world’s Nari writes fanfiction about us two. That’s literally why she was hired, and I didn’t even hire her, so it’s not just- oh my God.”

“What?”

“Head Court Lady Noh hired her. You don’t know her, but she’s been like a mother to Gon, and me too, to an extent. And… she read the fanfics. I think I’m going to be sick. Why would she read the fanfics?”

“Well, maybe she thinks you two have good chemistry?”

“Shinjae, those fanfics are porn! And she’s like a mother! Do you see the issue? Would you like it if your mother read porn about you and Taeeul?

“Well, no, but look, at least you have another ally, right? You’ve got me, and Nari from the Kingdom, and this Lady, and together we could work together to break Gon and Taeeul up, or something.”

Yeong rolled his eyes. “Like that’d ever happen. Even when Gon was trying to think about me he was thinking about Taeeul - he’s obsessed! I’m surprised she’d not here with him right now.”

“Oh, shit, Yeong, didn’t he tell you?” Shinjae leaned in close, and Yeong braced himself for the worst. An ‘oh, she’s already here now,’ or ‘oh, he’s already left to go and see her, and won’t return for weeks.’

‘You were in a coma for months, and now they’re already married.’

‘This is actually hell, and Taeeul really will be coming to drive a knife into your heart for eternity.’

“That idiot lost the Manpasikjeok. We’re stuck.”

He lost the Manpasikjeok? Their only means of crossing over to the other world?

Maybe this was heaven after all! Either that, or God did exist, and He was granting Yeong with some amazing divine luck to apologise for him being shot.

Gon couldn’t go and see Taeeul!

Ha! Ha ha!

No, Jo Yeong, you’re better than this. You want Gon to be happy, and he won’t be happy if he can’t see his girlfriend – this whole situation is very sad and unfortunate, and you need to be supportive.

But it was just too good! No more Jeong Taeeul! No more universe crap – it could just be him and Gon, no meddling Lieutenants, no annoying doppelgangers, just the two of them for the rest of their lives.

“I’m sorry, do you think this is a good thing?” Yeong snapped back to reality to see a really rather ticked off Shinjae, but that wasn’t going to dampen his mood. This was his moment, and Kang Shinjae wasn’t going to bring him down.

“It’s amazing,” Yeong marvelled, a grin plastered across his face, “don’t you see? No more Taeeul and Gon! No hellish future of watching them be in love for the rest of my life! My prayers have been answered!”

“Yeah, at the expense of mine! Gon’s not the only one in love with Taeeul, remember? And ignoring that – the Republic is my home, and I need to get back there.”

Goddamnit Shinjae. Why did he have to be so difficult? Couldn’t he let Yeong have this one good thing?

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay in the Kingdom? Our GDP is higher, there’s no conscription because your North Korea is just Northern Corea, we have a forward-thinking King and Prime Minister – what’s not to like?”

“It’s not my home. I don’t know anyone, not even my own family. I’ve lost my friends, and the woman I love. And the King is an asshole.”

“You’re lucky it hurts to move, or you would be dead meat right now for saying that.”

“Oh, that’s another thing. This country is a police state, where any bad word against the King means you get a gun to your head, courtesy of Captain Jo Yeong.”

“Touché.”

“Look, I just want to go home. Do you have any idea of where the Manpasikjeok could be? Where it was kept before Lee Lim stole it in the first place?”

“When it was stolen the first time, I was four, so no, I don’t know where it was. I don’t even think I had been in the main palace until His Majesty’s coronation, and I was only there because my father was in the Royal Guard, and it was his day to look after me, and he forgot to hire a babysitter.”

Shinjae sighed and leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So you mean to tell me that no one in this palace knows where it is?”

“Well…” Yeong trailed off, unwilling to offer his help, but seeing Shinjae in pain, he couldn’t be selfish any longer. “Head Court Lady Noh knows where everything is in the palace. If anyone knows where the Manpasikjeok is, it’s her.”

“Really?” Shinjae leapt out of his chair like some sort of excited bunny, and was already starting to make his way towards the door.

“You don’t even know what she looks like!” Yeong called out, willing him to stay put and not do anything stupid. “And even if you did know, she wouldn’t give it to anyone except His Majesty, because it’s a precious royal artefact that she wouldn’t let some random guy steal.”

Shinjae turned around, folding his arms. “Are you saying I have to wait for Gon to come back before I can go home?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. This is his palace; we can’t do anything without him.”

Throwing his head back with a groan, Shinjae went to sit back down, slumping back in the chair, all the fight sucked out of him.

“I am fed up of waiting for that prick,” he moaned, looking at the door as if willing Gon to walk through, “I have been waiting for him for three days and he’s still taking his sweet time.”

“That’s His Majesty for you – he always does his own thing, in his own time. You learn to live with it, even when he has an important function to get to and you really need him there but no, he chooses that moment to go on a spontaneous week-long trip to America, or Thailand, or South Africa, or more recently to another dimension. At least now he’s actually in the country, doing his job. I hope.”

“Hold on – are you complaining about Gon? I thought that was punishable by gun violence.”

“I’m his Unbreakable Sword, his long-suffering right-hand man. I’m allowed to call him out for being a dick.”

“So you admit –”

“Shut up.”

They fell into silence, save for Shinjae impatiently tapping his foot as the minutes dragged on. Only waiting for three days, and this was the state he’s in? Try waiting for him to notice you for twenty-six years.

Ok, that was a bit of an exaggeration. Yeong had probably only really wanted Gon to notice him in a different way for the past fifteen years or so, but that was still far more than three measly days.

Damn, had it really been that long since Yeong’s feelings had started to change? Had he really spent half his life dreaming of the day where Gon would see him as he saw Gon, where Gon would take him into his arms, defying all traditions but not caring one bit because being with Yeong was enough?

It was impossible, and Yeong knew that. He knew, deep down he knew that he should move on, get over his feelings, go and date a guy, date lots of guys! Gon was right; he did need to put himself out there, to love someone else and maybe even be loved in return. He’d certainly be happier that way, living in real life rather than a crumbling fantasy.

But loving Gon was a habit. A wonderful, addictive, rewarding habit that had plagued his every waking moment for fifteen years, that had seeped into every facet of his life, from his home to his relationships and even to his job. Loving Gon was a habit, and it was his life.

Was that unhealthy? Probably. But Yeong couldn’t imagine anything else. Even if he wanted to move on, he couldn’t. There was no other future for him.

At least Shinjae had a shot. If by some miracle Gon and Taeeul broke up, there would be nothing stopping him and Taeeul from getting together – they had history, they’re both straight, and there was an undeniable chemistry between them whenever they worked together. If Taeeul wasn’t with Gon, Yeong didn’t think it would take long for her to realise that the man for her was by her side the whole time. And he’d be happy for them, especially for Shinjae, who would have found his happiness after all these years, and would get to live out the rest of his life with the woman of his dreams.

Gon and Taeeul breaking up would be enough, just for that. Just for Shinjae to have what Yeong himself dreamed about, but would never be able to call his own.

Maybe he should just give up and settle for Seungah. If Eunseob and Nari were made for each other, then maybe that’s what the universe wanted, even if Yeong would never truly see her as more than a friend, and Seungah knew that. It would certainly be the easiest option, as Gon would never suspect a thing, especially if he’d already suggested they should date.

What a fucking slap in the face, for the man of your dreams to say that you’d be perfect with someone else. Yeong didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry at the sad joke that was his life. Some cosmic superbeing was definitely getting a kick out of this.

Well, at least things could hardly get any worse, right? At least at rock bottom, the only way to go was up.

Until Shinjae got up and announced to no one in particular, “I’m done with waiting, I’m going to go and find Gon and get the Manpasikjeok and kick his ass,” before flinging open the double doors and marching out without waiting for Yeong’s approval.

That was when Yeong got this unshakable feeling that although he was at rock bottom, the universe was there with a pickaxe and a shovel and was ready to dig.

***

‘We need to talk.’  Those were arguably the most frightening four words in existence.

Gon couldn’t figure out whether it was better or worse if you knew what the talk was going to be about. On the one hand, it was terrifying if you didn’t know, because there was no way to prepare yourself for what you were about to hear.

On the other hand, if you do know what the talk is about, you know exactly what kind of hell you have to endure. In Gon’s case, he knew because he had been through these motions a thousand times before.

“I told you,” he sighed, wiping his eyes in frustration, “I’m working on it, ok? I just need a little more time.”

“A little more time?” Head Court Lady Noh threw her talismans in the air, showering them both in a flurry of red and gold. “If you’re working on it so hard, I guess we won’t need these then.”

“You know I don’t really believe in that stuff anyway.” Gon crossed his arms and stuck his chin up, trying to maintain a sense of authority even when it felt like Lady Noh was really the one in charge here. “Besides, if they were working, I would surely be married already.”

“And why aren’t you, Your Majesty? You’re thirty-four, your time for finding a queen and producing an heir is running out!” She bent down and picked up one of the fallen talismans and clutched onto it as if her life depended on it.

Was it really that much of an issue that he hadn’t married his Queen yet? Sure, he was in his mid-thirties, but that wasn’t old! Taeeul still loved him, so it wasn’t like he was utterly repulsive. Even Yeong told him that he was handsome from time to time, and Yeong would never lie to him.

He was fine. He was in love, and it was fine.

Lady Noh took Gon’s hands into her own, and Gon tried to ignore the jolt of discomfort it sent shivering through his body. She looked up into Gon’s eyes, her desperation palpable, and said, “Working on it isn’t enough, anymore. Don’t you even have someone in mind?”

Gon straightened up, unsuccessfully trying to pull his hands out of Lady Noh’s iron grip. “I do, actually. Her name is Jeong Taeeul, and she loves me, and she’ll make an amazing queen, I promise.”

Well, if she ever agreed to being Queen. She would agree to it, he was sure, they just needed to date a little longer, that was all. That’s why she hadn’t been willing in the past.

Her job probably wouldn’t be the same without Shinjae and Eunseob there anyway, and they’d go back and visit Korea so she could see her family whenever she wanted, so really there was no reason for her to stay. He’d make sure her life was amazing here, and she would never want anything else.

He was King Lee Gon, for God’s sake! He could easily get the girl he loved to stay with him.

Lady Noh gasped, finally letting go of Gon’s hands to cover her mouth in shock. “I thought I’d never see the day! Do you have her address? Contact information? Pictures?”

“Well…” he trailed off, avoiding Lady Noh’s gaze and suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

No, he didn’t have any of that. He checked, and his phone had been reset, so there was no trace of his pictures with Taeeul at all. As for her address and contact information, even if he remembered them (which he didn’t, because it was all saved in his phone – why would he ever need to remember that stuff when he lived in the twenty-first century?), they wouldn’t even belong to her in this universe.

Lady Noh was not amused by his silence. She put her hands on her hips, and Gon knew he was in for it.

“Your Majesty!” she chastised, “Do you even know this woman, or is she just someone who spoke to you once?”

“No, I –”

“So how do you not have any record of her? Is she made up? Is that what this is? Your Majesty, you are thirty-four years old, it’s time for you to stop having an imaginary girlfriend and get yourself out there! What is there to be afraid of?”

“Head Court Lady Noh, I swear –”

“I’m getting tired of your excuses, Your Majesty. When you were fourteen years old you asked me to help you find a girlfriend, and now, twenty years later, you’ve not had a single one! What are people going to think?”

Gon narrowed his gaze. “I suggest you stop talking about this, Head Court Lady.”

“If I don’t talk about it then you never will! Your Majesty, you told me this is what you wanted and I tried to help you, but I think we both need to admit to ourselves that it’s not working. Do you want me to pick a nice girl out for you? Would that make it easier?”

“Please, Lady Noh, I’ll bring someone home – I’ll bring Jeong Taeeul home – I promise!”

“Your Majesty…” she softened, shaking her head and smiling to herself before turning her focus back to Gon. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing this as the only option if this isn’t what you really want.”

“It is!” Gon ran a hand through his hair, turning away from Lady Noh to encourage himself to at least attempt to keep his composure. He took a few deep breaths, but those didn’t help when Lady Noh thought the best way to comfort him would be to hold his arms, a move which turned his body to ice.

She looked up at him, gaze soft despite her strong grip, and told him, “It’s ok, Your Majesty. Personally, I think Jo Yeong is a very nice boy.”

In an instant, the cold in his body turned to raging fire as he pushed her off and stormed over to the window, slamming his fist against the wall. Whipping his head around, he snarled, “What the fuck was that supposed to mean?”

“Your Majesty, we both know –”

“No, we don’t! What I know, Head Court Lady Noh, is that I am King of the Kingdom of Corea, and it is my duty to take a Queen and produce an heir. That is what my people expect from me, and that’s what I’m going to give them when I marry Jeong Taeeul and make her my Queen! I’m not interested in any ‘other options,’ and I’m sure as hell not interested in –”

“Yeong said Head Court Lady Noh would know where the Manpasikjeok was, you thick bastard!”

Oh, Shinjae. Now was not the time. Now was really not the time.

“Your- Your Majesty!” Lady Noh stuttered, eyes glued to Kang Shinjae, who had just pushed open both the double doors and was staring Gon down, breathing heavily. “Should I call security?”

Gon waved his hand in the most nonchalant way he could manage, and said, “No, it’s fine, let him speak.”

It was not fine, but he doubted Shinjae would care about a silly little thing like ‘how he felt.’

“All this time going ‘oh no Shinjae I don’t know where it was, I was a child when we had it so now I guess it’s lost forever’ and you don’t once think that someone else would know? I could be back home right now if you’d applied even a little bit of intelligent thinking!”

Gon crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows and pretending to be completely unruffled. “Well, to be fair, it’s not like you thought of it either.”

“How would I know that one very specific lady that I’ve never met would know where your magic flute was?”

“I’m just saying. It’s not completely my fault.”

Shinjae looked like he was about to pull his hair out. “Yes it is! It is entirely your fault!”

“Your Majesty,” Lady Noh whispered, after shuffling close to Gon, “how does this man know about the Manpasikjeok?”

“It’s a long story,” Gon whispered back, eyeing Shinjae to make sure he wasn’t going to get himself into trouble, “but he’s right. We do need to know where it is. I have… forgotten, and it’s suddenly become very important.”

“It’s in the vault, Your Majesty, but are you sure you should be listening to him? He seems dangerous – how did he even get in the palace?”

“Vault!” Gon exclaimed, brushing Lady Noh off and heading straight for the doors, freedom finally in sight. “Come on Shinjae, don’t you want to go home?” He laughed and didn’t look back, because he knew that Shinjae was following him by the sound of his hurried footsteps, and his cry of ‘Lee Gon, you asshole!’

This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for, the moment he’d promised Taeeul, the moment where everything would finally start getting back to normal.

The first moment of the rest of his life.

Chapter Text

Shinjae had been gone a while. Yeong didn’t want to even try and imagine how many rooms he’d barged into unannounced, and he certainly didn’t want to try and imagine what kind of stunt he would pull when he did eventually find Gon.

That is, if Gon even was in the palace. Because Yeong was out of action, his duties, and therefore Gon’s schedule, had gone to Sub-Captain Seok, and Yeong didn’t have a clue what was going on outside Gon’s bedroom.

Maybe that was for the better. Late-night conversations when you were half-asleep and delirious were one thing, but if he saw Gon in broad daylight whilst still in Gon’s bed, Yeong thought he might actually combust. How was he expected to maintain composure when he was in a flimsy hospital gown with Gon looking at him? Even now, the situation felt far too much like one of Seungah’s fanfictions.

While Shinjae had been gone, Yeong had checked, and sure enough, the fanfics were here in this timeline too. Even the ones that he had helped on were there, which meant that this Seungah must know about his feelings for Gon, meaning that there were now two people, other than himself, that knew for definite. Two people who could ruin everything at any moment.

Well, at least that was one awkward conversation he wouldn’t have to have on Gon’s stupid date.

Not everything on his phone had remained the same, however. Evidently, the news of his injury had reached his family, and there were missed calls and messages from his parents, aunties, uncles, cousins, and two Jo names that he didn’t recognise: Jo Haeun and Jo Kangmin.

Of course, they could be friends who happened to share his surname… except Yeong didn’t have friends. Not really. And what were the chances that new-timeline-him would have two new friends that both happened to share his surname?

No, they were family. But how the hell could recovering the whole Manpasikjeok have caused him to have two new family members? The only person in his family the events of Cheonjongo really affected was himself, not some distant cousins!

Jo Haeun, Jo Kangmin, who the hell were you?

They didn’t have accounts on Line, Twitter, Instagram, or any other social media Yeong could think to check. They didn’t have pictures on their contacts in his phone, because Yeong never bothered with that.

Would it be weird to use his privileges as Captain of the Royal Guard to look them up? Probably. But if he didn’t want to look like a fool in front of his family, what other option did he have?

He could ignore them. That was a good solution. And ignore all the other messages and calls, because he needed to be fair, and also he did not have the strength to say ‘don’t worry, I’m doing well’ time and time again, each time in slightly different ways. That was a job for future Yeong to deal with, after he could be sure that the idiots he surrounded himself with weren’t going to get themselves killed, or kill each other, or kill someone else entirely.

It was so, so inconvenient that he was out of action. Yeong didn’t know how the hell the Gon he knew had managed to stay alive that long in the other world without him.

Well, he did know, but there was no way he was ever going to openly admit to himself that Taeeul could do that job just as well as he could. Possibly even better, considering he actually listened to her. Sometimes.

Gon would be going back to the other world without him again, wouldn’t he? If Shinjae had found him, and they’d found Head Court Lady Noh, then they’d probably already be on their way, leaving Yeong behind once again. Once both of them had their hearts set on Taeeul, nothing would get in the way of them going to see her, especially not boring old Captain Jo who could barely even lift his head, let alone travel to a different dimension.

He shouldn’t have told Shinjae how to get the Manpasikjeok, at least not until he was ready to go too. Even if he had to put up with Gon and Taeeul being all lovey-dovey, even if he had to surround himself with that group of idiots, at least he’d be with them, and not left on his own again.

Left on his own, with nowhere to go, nothing to do, surrounded by people he didn’t really know, and who didn’t really know him.

Maybe this was Hell, after all.

No. No, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t let it. Even if he couldn’t control being left alone, he could do something; he was Captain Jo Yeong of the Kingdom of Corea’s Royal Guard, he was the strongest man in the whole country! He couldn’t be stopped by a measly bullet!

Gritting his teeth, Yeong threw off the duvet and tentatively touched his feet to the cold wooden floor, and, using the bedside table for support, stood up for the first time since Cheonjongo. The soft ache in his muscles became laced with fire, and his chest felt like it was being carved apart, but he was standing up!

He took a step forward, letting go of the table with a shaking hand, and then another, and then another, becoming surer with each metre he got closer to the door.

That’s it! This was why he was the youngest ever Captain of the Royal Guard! He couldn’t be brought down by anything!

With an ever-growing smile on his face, he leaned forward to reach for the door handle, so he could finally be free of all this mess –

Until the door opened toward him with a cry of “Yeong-ah!” and he found himself inches away from Gon’s now-very-surprised face.

Yeong stumbled back, gasping out of shock or from the pain of the uncontrolled movement, he couldn’t tell, and his legs chose that moment to give way from under him, so in his panicked haze he grabbed onto the thing that was closest to him to try and keep some semblance of balance.

That thing was Lee Gon’s arm. He was – oh, shit! He couldn’t do that, Gon didn’t like –

He let go, now unable to help collapsing into an undignified heap on the floor, and glared at his stupid traitor legs. Of course they chose that exact moment to give way, making him grab onto Gon without his permission so now Gon probably hated him and he definitely wouldn’t be allowed back into Gon’s bed and Gon wouldn’t take him to the other world ever again and agh, it was all such a mess!

“Yeong-ah?”

Yeong looked up, holding his breath and expecting to be chastised or banished or beheaded, but instead Gon looked… concerned?

Why should be concerned about Yeong? He was the king, he shouldn’t be worried about the wellbeing of a very replaceable royal guard, especially not when he had another world to get to, not when he had his girlfriend to see.

In fact, why was Gon here in the first place? He shouldn’t even be in this reality right now, let alone coming to see Yeong.

Looking to Shinjae, who was standing behind Gon, he seemed to share the same sentiment.

Oh, Shinjae. He should have just stolen the Manpasikjeok and made a run for it, instead of putting up with Gon’s whims for any longer than he had to.

The sense of awkwardness in the room was tangible, but Yeong didn’t know what to say. What could he say after that performance?

The only thing left to do was to pretend it never happened.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he leaned a hand on the floor and tried with all his might to push himself up, but it was a lot harder to get up from the floor with nothing around to hold onto than it was to get up from the bed. The more he pushed, the more the pain in his chest soared, and the more he could feel twin gazes of judgement upon him, and the more he wished they had just gone straight to Korea without saying goodbye.

This was humiliating. He was Captain Jo, he was the Unbreakable Sword, he was better than this! Since when had he become so powerless?

“Here, Yeong-ah.” This time Yeong really didn’t want to look, but when he did he was met with Gon crouched down, extending his hand in a very unnecessary offer of support.

Unnecessary, as Yeong would never accept help from Gon, not when it was his job to help Gon, not the other way round.

Unnecessary, and yet… what other choice did he have? It wasn’t like he could just stay on the floor forever, and it wasn’t like he was forcing Gon to help, so maybe, just this once, it would be ok. Just this once.

He took Gon’s hand, holding his breath to suppress the sparks that shot through his body and his heart because he was holding Gon’s hand, and weakly pulled himself to his feet once again. A selfish part of him wanted to keep holding on, to hold onto Gon for the rest of his life, but he knew he couldn’t do that, not if he wanted to keep his head, so he let go.

He let go, only to feel Gon’s arm wrapping around him from behind and pulling him in close, a move which knocked all the wind from Yeong’s chest, leaving him fighting for every breath.

Gon – he – what? Never in their 26 years of friendship, except maybe when Gon was in mortal danger and Yeong had to resort to drastic measures, had they ever been this close, and never in their 26 years of friendship had Gon been the one to initiate it, not when he avoided all close physical contact.

From the heat he could feel burned his cheeks, Yeong knew his face was definitely beet-red. He was red, and he couldn’t breathe, or stand, and he couldn’t tell whether this was his injury, or a panic attack, or some evil manifestation of his feelings for Gon, or a fucked up combination of the three. All he could manage was a mutter of thanks, and even that was an achievement.

He had been trained in combat, trained to disregard his own wellbeing to protect his king, but he sure as hell hadn’t been trained for this.

“Are you ok?” Gon asked and God, didn’t he have eyes? Of course Yeong wasn’t ok, he was weak and humiliated and was being held by the man who held his heart but who didn’t love him back, and Gon had asked him if he was ok?

But Yeong replied, “I’m fine,” because there was no other real correct answer to that question. Gon was wasting time here looking after him instead of going off to his girlfriend, and who was Yeong to get in the way of that?

No, he was fine. He would be fine. For Gon.

“Great!” Gon smiled, and didn’t let go of Yeong. “That means you can come with us!”

Come… with?

Gon wanted him to come with them.

Gon wanted him to come with them! He wasn’t going to leave Yeong behind!

It was all Yeong could do not to turn Gon’s supportive arm into a full-on hug. Gon wanted him there, wanted him by his side, even if his girlfriend was going to be there, and that was the highest honour a man in Yeong’s position could have bestowed upon him.

“We’re not going to take him looking like that, are we?” Shinjae said, his frustration at all this time-wasting very apparent. “The guy’s practically naked in that hospital gown.”

“Oh, you’re right! But Yeong’s apartment is so far away,” Gon moaned, pursing his lips in thought for a second before breaking into a smile. “Wait, no, it’s ok! He can just wear some of my clothes! They might be a little big, but I think they’d fit well enough just for today.”

“No, Your Majesty, I –” Yeong spluttered, fumbling for words as he tried to get across a message of ‘Your Majesty, I can’t possibly wear your clothes if you expect me to be able to function like a normal human being,’ but Gon, as always, was having none of it.

“Aw, come on Yeong-ah, it won’t be that bad, I promise. Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear colours, I have enough clothes so you can wear all-black.”

That was not the issue, Lee Gon! That was nowhere close to the issue!

Agh, why were his feelings so goddamn inconvenient?

As Gon guided Yeong over to his dressing room, Yeong looked over his shoulder to Shinjae for support, but all he got was a strange, unreadable smile. Was it meant to be mocking? Was it meant to say ‘hurry your ass up so I can go and see Taeeul?’

Whatever it was, it didn’t fucking help.

When they arrived in the dressing room, Gon sat Yeong down and started energetically rifling through his frankly ridiculous collection of clothes. How many of these had Gon actually worn? He had everything, from turtlenecks in every colour, to dress shirts, to Hawaiian shirts (why?), to studded leather jackets, to ripped jeans, and even to plunging ballgowns. Why those were in Gon’s personal collection, Yeong had no idea.

Was it the previous Gon from this timeline’s wishful thinking about getting a Queen? Lady Noh’s wishful thinking, perhaps? Or heck, did Gon wear those himself?

Yeong smiled to himself – now that was a sight he’d like to see.

“Here.” Gon dumped some clothes that he’d picked out onto Yeong’s lap. All black, like he’d promised, and surprisingly similar to Yeong’s normal style. There was even a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses sitting on the top, ones that Yeong might have thought had been a spare pair from the Royal Guard, had they not been encrusted with tiny gems on the arms.

He picked them up to admire them closer, first to marvel at the handiwork, but then to try and imagine what Gon would look like wearing them, as well as the rest of the outfit he’d picked out.

Lee Gon, wearing Jo Yeong’s style. It was –

“Beautiful,” Yeong breathed, completely swept up in the fantasy, mesmerised by the picture of the sunlight sparkling off the gems on the glasses, a hint of a smirk on Gon’s imaginary lips, and the sudden feeling of Gon’s hands at the top of his back, untying the tie that held his gown closed –

Wait, what?

Yeong whipped his head around, and sure enough, there was Gon, undressing him without a care in the world.

“Your Majesty –” he started, facing his front again so Gon wouldn’t be able to see a hint of the mess of emotions rocketing through his mind and across his face.

What. The fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck?

Yeong was sure this was the beginning of one of Seungah’s fanfics. But this was real life. Probably. Maybe. Unless he was dreaming, or in heaven, or possibly hell. At this point, he wasn’t sure which would be more likely.

Ok Jo Yeong, just breathe. In, then out. In, then out. No, that was too quick, that was far too quick, Gon would notice. In, then hold, then out. In, then hold, then out.

In, then hold, then out.

“Jo Yeong,” Gon laughed, evidently finding this funny when it wasn’t fucking funny – “don’t tell me you of all people are unsure enough in your heterosexuality to be embarrassed about another man undressing you.”

Oh, he was going to fucking kill Lee Gon. Yeong was going to strangle him with the sleeves of his own damn clothes.

What the hell was he meant to say to that? What in the fucking goddamn shit hell was he meant to say to that?

This was definitely hell. No question. His hellscape wasn’t Jeong Taeeul after all, it was Lee Gon putting him in the most horrible awkward situations known to man.

He felt sick. He felt physically sick, and was as close to throwing up as Gon’s hands were to his bare fucking skin.

“I just thought you’d need some help,” Gon continued, “because you only got shot a few days ago, and you’re nowhere near your full strength, and I can see how much moving seems to hurt you. You need looking after, although knowing you it must hurt you more than the actual wound does to admit that.”

This was meant to help. Right. Of course. He was helping. Gon was helping him, because he was a good friend. He didn’t see the intimacy in gently removing the flimsy piece of cloth protecting Yeong’s dignity, and that was fine, because there wasn’t any intimacy. Even if hot sparks shot all the way to Yeong’s trembling heart every time their skin touched, there was no intimacy in this action.

If only Yeong could be sure in his non-existent heterosexuality. If only.

Gon didn’t even give him the luxury of getting half his body dressed at a time. Had he learned nothing from changing for sports in school? With other people around, you did half and half and you covered your modesty, and you definitely didn’t just strip off so you were practically buck naked!

Fortunately, Yeong did at least have underpants on, and the swathes of bandages wrapped around his chest helped him cover up a bit, but this was the most exposed that Gon had ever seen him. Even when Gon had gone swimming, or had gone to the beach, Yeong had always been fully clothed so he could stand guard instead of joining in.

“Wow…” Gon breathed, standing in front of Yeong and looking at him for far too long in his state of undress, letting out a totally-uncalled-for low whistle, “I never realised my best friend was so ripped. What did you do to get muscles like that?”

“The gym,” Yeong said, trying to ignore the weight of Gon’s gaze and praying that he would just. Stop. Looking.

“Really Yeong-ah, how don’t you have a girlfriend yet? You must be the most eligible bachelor in all of Corea right now, and almost definitely the hottest. I mean, who wouldn’t want a piece of that?”

Oh Gon, shut up, shut up, shut up! Please shut your stupid mouth and stop making this harder than it has to be!

Why would he say things like that when it was obvious who ‘wouldn’t want a piece of that?’ What kind of sick game did he think he was playing?

“I don’t know,” he just said, curtly, handing Gon the trousers as a hint for him to hurry the fuck up. Trousers were best to start with, surely, because then at least his dick could be properly covered, and he wouldn’t feel quite so exposed.

When Gon started to put them on, however, Yeong realised that was not the case. At all. Because when Yeong was sitting on a chair, and Gon was crouching down below him, sliding the trousers up his legs, Yeong was hyper-aware of Gon getting closer and closer to –

No! This was not one of Seungah’s fanfictions! It wasn’t!

Yeong kept his head up high, knowing if he looked down even for a second that would be the end of it for him. Gon’s hands were so close, his head was probably so close, and Yeong could hardly take the universe’s cosmic teasing anymore!

He ended up holding his breath until Gon was finished, because if he had let himself breathe, he didn’t know what he would have done, he only knew that he would not have been able to keep his job afterwards.

This time, he really was going to be sick. All over Gon’s head, if he wasn’t careful.

The rest of the dressing passed by in a blur, with Yeong’s mind focused wholly on trying to pretend like everything was fine and that this was a totally normal, regular, everyday occurrence, and that every little touch, every little drag of Gon’s fingers against his arms and his chest and his abdomen wasn’t driving him insane.

Maybe Gon tried to talk to him. Maybe he didn’t. Yeong had no idea.

Was Gon really unfazed by all of this? Really? Was there really a world in which that was possible?

Evidently so. Because Gon was doing this to be a friend, and Yeong shouldn’t be overthinking it like he was, because there was nothing to overthink. It was a perfectly normal, friendly interaction.

It was normal, and Yeong should be perfectly calm, even when Gon decided Yeong’s look wasn’t complete, and started combing his hair.

There was nothing inherently intimate about combing hair, and yet the gentle touch of the comb and Gon’s hands styling it into place felt even more objectively wrong than any of the dressing Gon had done before.

“I don’t have that industrial-strength gel you use, so I’m just going to comb it back a bit,” Gon said, as he created Yeong’s trademark side-part, “I hope that’s ok.”

“It’s fine,” Yeong murmured, and it was, because the last thing he wanted was Gon spending any more time on this than he had to, combing products into his hair.

“Alright, well” –  Gon handed Yeong the sunglasses and Yeong put them on, looking up at Gon with a faint smile – “you’re done! You want to have a look at my handiwork?” Gon extended his hand, and Yeong took it, letting Gon lead him to the mirror. Gon wasn’t letting go of his hand, but after everything they had gone through, merely holding hands was the least of Yeong’s worries.

It was nice, Yeong thought, now that he was a bit calmer. In another world, maybe he could get used to holding Gon’s hand. It was surprisingly calloused, for a pampered king, but that only enhanced the already sensational experience. It wouldn’t feel real if it was perfectly soft, but this? This was real.

Looking at his reflection… Gon really had done a good job with the outfit. Though the clothes were evidently more luxurious than any of Yeong’s own, and though his hair was far more relaxed than his usual austere, slicked-back look, Gon’s choices were spot on. For the first time since the timeline was reset, he really, truly, felt like the Captain of the Royal Guard again. Felt like himself again.

He was himself again, and he could see himself holding Gon’s hand.

How many of these once-in-a-lifetime moments was he going to have to try to score into his memory? This was getting ridiculous.

Gon chuckled. “I can tell you like it - your cheeks are getting all red. You must be thinking wahh Gon’s so cool, and if he wasn’t a king, he’d make an amazing personal stylist.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Yeong couldn’t help smiling. The smile felt like it was permanently etched into his face, never to be taken off again.

***

Something that Gon had learnt today was that Shinjae did not know how to ride a horse.

Despite Shinjae’s frankly appalling attitude towards him, Gon would have been more than happy to let him borrow one of the many horses they had in the stables, but apparently Shinjae “would rather die than get on one of those things,” so he was walking.

And because Gon was a kind and benevolent king who didn’t want Shinjae to look stupid just walking while he and Yeong were both riding, he said he would walk too.

Now, though? He had decided that being a kind and benevolent king was a scam, and was not something he would ever want to do in future.

It didn’t help that they’d been walking around the forest for what felt like an eternity, trying to find the place where the new portal was.

Even Yeong, who was riding on his horse instead of walking with the rest of them, was looking tired. Despite the mirrored sunglasses that were hiding his eyes, it was clear to see that he wasn’t doing well, as every so often he would slump forward, before getting shocked back into the waking world by the crack of a twig, or a particularly loud bird.

Maybe it hadn’t been wise to take Yeong, after all. He hadn’t even been awake for a day, and was on the verge of death just two days ago, but here he was, coming with them to a whole other dimension when he could barely stand up on his own.

If it had been himself, Gon thought, he would have stayed in bed for weeks, ensuring he was waited on hand and foot for the whole time of his recovery.

A smile crept onto Gon’s lips. Yeong really was amazing. Truly an Unbreakable Sword.

Seungah was so lucky to be going on a date with him, even if she didn’t know it yet.

Hearing a small laugh to his side, Gon turned round to see Shinjae staring at him, face adorned with a lopsided grin.

“What?” Gon asked, earning them both a look from Yeong too.

“Nothing, I –” Shinjae gave a look to Yeong before turning back to Gon, smiling even more widely “– I just thought I noticed something, that’s all.”

Gon furrowed his brow. “The obelisks?”

“The- what, no, nothing like that. Just something.”

“I am your King. Tell me what you noticed,” Gon demanded, crossing his arms with a huff.

“Did something happen while Yeong was getting changed?”

Yeong looked like he’d seen a ghost. He sat bolt upright on his horse and looked straight forward, pursing his lips and generally looking far more uptight than he usually did. At first he went white, all the blood draining from his face, but soon colour started to creep in, in the form of a soft red blush.

Must have been a sexy ghost, then. Because what else would have got that reaction?

“My God,” Shinjae marvelled, “something did happen, didn’t it? I bet you’d wanna tell Taeeul all about it, if we ever do get to the Republic.”

“All I did was get Yeong dressed, why would Taeeul care about that?”

“Sorry, did you- you mean- physically? Like, you put the clothes onto his body?”

“That is generally how dressing someone works, yes. I know it’s not a very kingly job, but it’s the least I could do for my best friend.” Gon glanced at Yeong again, but he seemed to be even more on-edge than before.

Was he ok? Did he need painkillers, or a rest, or a drink? Something else entirely?

“Lee Gon, your stupidity blows my mind,” Shinjae muttered, before saying, “You know what? I think Taeeul would love to hear about that – she’d be so pleased to hear how much of a good friend you are to Yeong. While we’re at it, I think she’d also like to hear about other aspects of how Yeong’s been looked after, like, oh, I don’t know, the place he’s slept for the past two nights. I think she’d be super pleased to hear that her boyfriend has been sleeping with someone else in his bed.”

“Yeong is my best friend, and he needed looking after. She’d understand.”

“Would she? Would she understand if I told her –”

“Hey, look, it’s the portal!” Yeong exclaimed, a forced smile gracing his lips in what Gon could only assume was his attempt to stay positive, despite whatever pain he was experiencing. “Why don’t we all focus on the portal and getting over to Jeong Taeeul, instead of arguing about her, hm?”

Ok, Yeong was really not ok. He sounded panicked, for some reason, and Yeong never panicked. He was the Unbreakable Sword, so what had got him so riled up?

Maybe there was something in the forest. A wild animal, perhaps? Or it could be a person, an assassin come to take him out, or maybe one of Lee Lim’s surviving men.

No, it couldn’t be that. Lee Lim was dead, for real this time, and his men weren’t a threat anymore, because they had reset the timeline. It was fine.

They were crossing the border between the worlds soon anyway, so it was fine. There was no one out to get him.

But that still begged the question – what had got Yeong so spooked?

They should probably hurry, if they wanted to avoid it.

“Well come on then,” Gon said, a new spring in his step to try and encourage the others to get the hell out, “let’s go!”

And so they did. The three of them, and Yeong’s horse, stepped into the portal, and were transported to the place between worlds for the first time since the reset.

Had this place been reset too? There were portals everywhere! Tall shafts of white light surrounded them, covering the landscape in an endless sea of beacons, leading to what Gon could only assume were an endless selection of worlds.

It would have been beautiful, if the prospect of finding the right one wasn’t so terrifying.

“Lee Gon. What did you do to this place? Do you even want to go and see Taeeul?”

“I do, I- I had had no idea there would be so many. I thought there were only the two worlds, but…”

“But now we’re lost. How are we even going to remember which one we came out of?”

“Just leave something next to it,” Yeong said, finally relaxing into his normal unshakeable self, “something you can see easily.”

Hm. Something you could see.

“I’ll be right back!” Gon called out, before hopping back through the portal and grabbing the nearest big stick he could find, and taking that back through the portal and sticking it into the ground. “There. We have a marker.”

“So now what?” Shinjae asked, looking out over the array of portals, “Are we just going to try every one until we find Taeeul?”

“We’re just going to try every one until we find Taeeul.”

Somehow, that had seemed like a better plan at the time, and it hadn’t even sounded like a good plan then.

Gon was so, so tired. They didn’t have the right currency in any of the other worlds, and he hadn’t brought any gold, so they hadn’t been able to stop for food, and it was beginning to show. Shinjae was irritable, even more so than normal, he himself felt like his legs were about to give way any second, and Yeong…

It was truly a miracle of nature that Jo Yeong was still alive.

About ten worlds back, Gon had offered to just take Yeong home, but he was determined to keep going with them, no matter what.

Gon really was lucky to have such a loyal Captain of the Royal Guard.

“I’ve got a good feeling about this next one!” Gon tried to assure the others, plastering his face with a smile in a futile attempt to keep morale high.

He was met with a blank stare from Yeong, and a groan from Shinjae.

“You’ve said that the past sixteen times, Lee Gon. This one’s not going to be different. I have more reason to go to the Republic than either of you and even I want to pack it in and call it a day.”

“Fine,” Gon sighed, staring into the glowing white of the next portal, “Let’s just make this the last one, and then I’ll take you home.” Without waiting for a reaction, he walked straight in. He was not in the mood to hear Shinjae complain anymore.

As they walked through the bamboo forest on the other side, identical to all the forests before it, passers-by stopped and stared and whispered, pointing at Yeong up on his sleek, black horse.

It was nice, Gon realised, to see Yeong finally getting some attention, even if he was probably too worn out to fully appreciate it. He did look the picture of elegance and grace, despite having been riding for hours with no breaks, and his all-black look with those mirrored sunglasses made him striking against the greens of the forest. If Gon didn’t know any better, he’d say that Yeong looked like the King, instead of himself.

King Jo Yeong, of whatever this world was. It wasn’t like that was impossible. Maybe there was a world where Yeong was the King, and he was a bodyguard, or at least some kind of important Royal Mathematician.

After a small age, they finally made it to yet another iteration of Taeeul’s place. It was dark, and the café was shut, but as they got closer it was clear to see that there was a figure waiting in front of the apartment block, idly checking her phone.

Taeeul. Or at least a version of her.

Time to be disappointed once again.

Not-Taeeul looked up, and nearly dropped her phone when her gaze landed on Gon. She took a couple of tentative steps forward, rubbing her clearly tired eyes, before running straight for Gon, knocking the wind out of him in a hug. She squeezed him tight, burying her head in his chest, before stepping back and slapping him across the face.

This… this wasn’t Not-Taeeul. This was Taeeul. They’d made it. They’d made it!

A slap had never felt so good!

“Lee Gon!” she  shouted, seemingly oblivious to the fact that everyone around her was probably asleep, “What do you think you were doing, taking this long to come and find me?”

“Taeeul, I –”

“I don’t want to hear it.” She pulled him back into her embrace again, letting out a long and contented sigh, and whispered, so quietly that even Gon could barely hear it, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“You brought guests.”

“I thought we should get the gang all back together.”

“It was me that got you to actually come!” Both Gon and Taeeul turned to see Shinjae with a sour look on his face, hands in his pockets and sulking.

Honestly. Was now really the time to be hangry? They had just got Taeeul back!

“Gon…” Taeeul started, her previous joy now ridden with confusion and shock, “Weren’t you going to come back for me?”

Shinjae raised an eyebrow in a look that said ‘Weren’t you?’

“Taeeul I- it’s a long story. So much has happened in the last few days and I –”

“Wasn’t I important enough for you?”

“Yeong was dying, ok? I had to take care of that.” Taeeul looked like she was about to cry, and Gon softened, reaching out a hand to cup her face. “I’m sorry. I’m here now, aren’t I? Isn’t that what matters most?”

“I guess,” she mumbled, leaning into his touch.

“Look, I think we’ve all had a long day,” Gon said, after another pang of hunger stabbed into his stomach, “and we just need to get inside, have some food, and sleep. Do you think we could stay over at yours?”

She nodded. “Yeong can leave his horse where you left Maximus. I don’t have much, but I think I have enough cup ramen to feed you all. Would that be ok?”

“Cup ramen sounds like the food of the Gods right now.”

“Alright then. Come in, but be quiet! My dad is sleeping and you do not want to mess with a pissed off taekwondo master.”

Gon chuckled. “Noted.”

Taeeul motioned for them to follow her into her apartment, and Gon was about to do so before he noticed Yeong struggling to get down from his horse. His arms and legs were shaking as he tried to pull himself over and dismount, which he attempted several times before sitting back down in the saddle, clutching his chest and breathing hard.

As much as he wanted to go in, he couldn’t leave Yeong behind.

He walked over and gently reached up to his friend, putting one arm around his back and sliding the other under his legs. With what little strength he had left, he pulled Yeong off the horse, sitting him down on the ground while he tied the horse in place.

Yeong didn’t even attempt to stand, or make any move at all. In the dark, it looked almost as if he was lifeless again.

“Your Majesty,” he whispered, a hoarse, feeble whisper that reminded Gon far too much of Cheonjongo, “go. Go inside to your girlfriend. Don’t wait for me.”

“Yeong-ah, don’t be silly.” Gon reached down and pulled Yeong up so he was standing, holding his body close like earlier on, when they had crashed at Gon’s door. With anyone else, save for his girlfriend, of course, he wouldn’t dream of having them this close to him, but this was Yeong! His Yeong! Yeong who had saved his life countless times, Yeong who was always there, Yeong who he’d shared his life with ever since he became King.

Yeong who looked out for him, Yeong who was loyal no matter what, Yeong who had made Gon’s dark days a little brighter, just by being there.

If there was anyone he could trust to be close to him, it was Jo Yeong, and so the touch didn’t make him uncomfortable at all. Quite the opposite, in fact, it made him feel at home, and protected, and safe, even in a universe that wasn’t really theirs, even if right now it was really Gon that was doing the protecting.

He was protected, he was safe, and he was loved. And he wasn’t alone.

The thought brought a little joy to his heart, even after the rough day they’d had. As they slowly but surely made their way into Taeeul’s flat, together, despite everything, this felt like the greatest truth in the universe. In all the universes.

“I’ll always be there for you.”

Chapter Text

Going to Korea was so not worth it. Not even a little bit.

Maybe if they’d stayed in a hotel, it would have been ok. Maybe if they had got there quickly, it would have been ok.

But no. The first day Yeong had been awake since Cheonjongo had been spent almost entirely on horseback with no food or drink or rest, followed by a fantastic meal of cup ramen and leftover chicken, and a great night’s sleep on Taeeul’s old sofa.

When he realised that he wouldn’t be able to sleep in Gon’s bed again, a crummy sofa was not the replacement he had in mind.

Seriously. The things he did for Gon.

His Royal Majesty, of course, got to sleep in Taeeul’s bed, because she ‘missed him’ and ‘wanted to have him close to her’ and ‘thought it was the right thing to do, as they were boyfriend and girlfriend.’

Naturally that was the right thing to do, instead of giving the actual bed to the man who was bleeding out of his chest and in incredible amounts of pain already, even without the added bonus of aching all over from an uncomfortable night’s sleep. Naturally.

To top it all off, he had been woken up about five hours earlier than his body had intended by a panicked Taeeul, who had suddenly realised that the boys probably shouldn’t be in the flat when her father woke up if they didn’t want a lot of explaining to do, so at the ungodly time of 5:07AM (he checked) the three of them had been shoved outside and told to ‘make themselves busy.’ Whatever that meant.

They still didn’t have any money, so they couldn’t pay for a hotel, or food, or toiletries, or clothes that didn’t smell.

Well. Ok. Yeong didn’t necessarily mind so much about the clothes, because even under the stench of dried blood and BO, they still smelt like Gon. When Gon wasn’t looking, he couldn’t help pulling the fabric up to his nose and breathing in, letting the scent wash over his senses, dulling his pain, and generally making his bleak existence just a little bit brighter. Without that, Yeong didn’t know if he would have made it through the night.

With the blood seeping through from his ripped-open wound, Gon would never want these clothes back, right? Surely there was no way they could be fit for a king after they’d been defiled like this.

It was that thought, and that thought alone, that kept Yeong going through the endless morning hours while he waited for Taeeul with the very pleasant company of the two men who were head-over-heels in love with her.

“It’s payback, you know,” Shinjae jibed, as the three of them sat on a park bench, Yeong sitting in between the other two in a futile attempt to keep the peace. “She’s keeping us waiting because you took so long to come and find her.”

“This again?” Gon folded his arms and leaned forward, side-eyeing Shinjae. “I’ve already had a whole night of this with Taeeul; what don’t either of you understand about ‘Yeong was dying, and I had to take care of him?’”

“You could have left him in the Kingdom. It’s not like you were the one actually giving him medical attention.”

“That’s not the point. Besides, I couldn’t leave without my Yeongie,” Gon said, putting his arm around Yeong and pulling him close. Yeong tried not to tense. This was Gon being friendly, and over the past day he’d done this often enough.

It didn’t really mean anything. He didn’t really care.

“You left me alone before,” Yeong mumbled, to remind himself of his real relationship with Gon more than anything else. He was expendable, replaceable, easy to forget, and it wasn’t his place to think anything else.

He was able to let go of the tension in his body after remembering that.

“Oh come on Yeong-ah, you know that was only so you could do your job and protect me.” Gon nudged Yeong and smiled, but Yeong didn’t feel like smiling back.

“Not the first time. Not when you disappeared without a trace, without telling anyone where you were. Not when we had to make up a story about you and the whole palace was stressed, and no one said it but everyone blamed your personal bodyguard for letting you out of his sight.”

“Yeong-ah –”

“Forget it. It doesn’t matter now. It didn’t even happen in this timeline anyway.”

Gon let out a sound –  a kind of laugh-sigh – and leaned back, looking up at the blossoming tree above them. “Lucky me, then, getting to avoid the wrath of the fearsome Jo Yeong.”

“I’d be happy to provide that wrath for him, if you want,” Shinjae said, a subtle smirk gracing his lips.

Of course he would. Maybe he should. Yeong wasn’t going to care. He was actively not caring.

“I’ll have you beheaded.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Are you doubting your king?” Gon leaned forward again, raising his eyebrows in a look of mock indignance.

“You will never be my king.”

“Boys! As much as I’m flattered to see you fighting over me, I am not in the mood to deal with testosterone-fuelled egos this early in the morning.”

Taeeul. For the first time in his life, Yeong was actually relieved to see her. At least she would get in the way of Gon and Shinjae’s petty squabbling. It seemed to work too – as soon as they heard her voice, both the lovesick idiots turned to her, faces lighting up, their argument of a few seconds ago immediately forgotten.

“My Queen!” Gon gasped, getting up from his seat to greet her with a kiss, gently holding the small of her back. It seemed to take Taeeul by surprise, as she took a step back, mouth forming a small ‘o,’ with a hint of a blush reaching her cheeks.

Yeong thought it was disgusting. No – actually no. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to care. He wasn’t.

He was going to have to crash back to reality at some point, right? That moment might as well be now.

Shinjae stood up too, opening his arms wide and asking, “No hug for your bro?” To Yeong’s absolutely-not-delight, Taeeul left Gon immediately, throwing herself into Shinjae’s open arms and wrapping her own around him. Where Taeeul couldn’t see, Shinjae made a rude gesture in Gon’s direction, to which Gon retaliated by miming cutting his head off.

Despite his sour mood, Yeong couldn’t help but smile at the mess unfolding in front of him. It was so damn satisfying to see Shinjae stealing Gon’s girl.

“No greeting from you, Yeong?” Taeeul stepped out of the hug, tilting her head and putting her hands on her hips as she gave Yeong an accusatory look.

“Movement hurts.” Technically not a lie.

“Oh, someone’s not going to be happy about that.”

Yeong frowned. Someone?

“Yeongie!” A cry came from behind him, followed by a tight hug and a head that was too damn close to his own.

“Eunseob,” Yeong said, through gritted teeth, “that hurts.”

“Oh, whoopsie!” Eunseob let go, and skipped round the back of the bench to come and perch himself next to Yeong, leaning his head on Yeong’s shoulder. “Taeeul told me you’d been hurt, but ahh, I was just too excited! When you guys didn’t come straight away, I thought you’d be gone for ages and ages, but you made it!”

“Barely.”

“Still, I’m so glad! It’s been so hard not having anyone except Taeeul to talk to the other world, and she only really wanted to talk about Gon. Between you and me, it’s been kind of annoying, but I guess I’m not one to talk because I know I’d be exactly the same if I didn’t know if I would ever see my Nari again.”

Oh, Yeong had almost forgotten about that. Not Nari, but Seungah. That little joke of fate seemed like a lifetime ago.

“I suppose you were like that with your Nari, weren’t you? When you were left in this world. I bet your heart was aching because of that huge great distance between you.”

Yep. Even Eunseob thought he should be with Seungah. If Eunseob had Nari, then by any logic, Seungah should be his soulmate. That was just the way of the universes.

And yet, he couldn’t lie to Eunseob. He didn’t have the energy to lie any longer.

“I’m not actually in love with her, you know,” Yeong confessed, looking down at the grass coating the bottom of his shoes. “The Nari in my world, I mean. She’s lovely, but…” But I’m gay.

Yeong wasn’t sure if he hoped that would come across or not. On the one hand, it was someone else that knew, but on the other hand, although he hated to admit it, Eunseob was another version of himself, and Yeong felt like he almost deserved to know, because Eunseob was familiar in a way that not even his King could hope to be.

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t talking about her, although I do agree she’s lovely.” Eunseob leaned in closer, looked around to check who was listening, and whispered, “I was actually talking about Gon.”

“You –” Yeong exclaimed through gritted teeth, trying to keep quiet so the others didn’t look over because that was the last thing he needed right now.

How. How?

“How the fuck do you know about that?” Yeong asked, voice low enough to almost be a growl, gripping the yellow fabric of Eunseob’s hoodie so hard his knuckles turned white.

“I-I’m sorry, I read the notes on your phone!” Eunseob’s eyes were wide with fear, but Yeong didn’t have it in him to feel even a shred of empathy.

“You. Did. What?”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, when I was in the hospital in your world I didn’t have much to do and sometimes I got bored of Netflix and I had your phone and I thought ‘hey, I wonder what Yeongie has on his phone,’ so I looked at all your apps and I looked in the notes because I thought they’d be shopping lists or something and I wanted to see what you ate to have all that muscle but then when I looked it wasn’t that it was all these big long paragraphs and that made me curious about what you were so passionate about and then I saw! And then I thought ‘oh, so that’s why he believed me when I said I had a boyfriend,’ and then when I read more I thought ‘wow, he really needs actual therapy instead of just the notes app,’ and now I’m thinking you are very scary and I should not have said all that. You’re not gonna kill me, right? Please don’t kill me, because then no one’s gonna look after Eun-bi and Kka-bi, and they didn’t do anything wrong.”

Yeong sighed. Forget all that about trusting Eunseob, and wanting him to know. The reality of having him be the third person to find out was terrifying.

If Eunseob couldn’t be trusted to respect the privacy of his stuff, he sure as hell couldn’t be trusted with a secret like that. Gon finding out and casting him aside seemed less like a concerning hypothetical and more like a ticking time bomb with every passing day.

“Gon doesn’t know,” Yeong eventually said, letting Eunseob go so he could put his head in his hands.

“Oh, I figured, but don’t worry! I won’t tell him! Your secret is safe with me.”

“What secret?” It was Gon. It was Gon! Why wasn’t Gon distracted by kissing Taeeul or something? Wasn’t that what he was doing two seconds ago? “Are you keeping secrets from me, Jo Yeong?”

“No, Your Majesty!” he said, far too quickly to be believable. He tried offering a smile, but from the way Shinjae was sniggering, Yeong could tell it wasn’t helping.

“I could have you beheaded for keeping secrets, you know.” Gon leaned down so his head was the same height as Yeong’s was in his sitting position, so their noses were only centimetres apart. “I’ll forgive you if you tell me now, though.”

Gon was too close. His face was too close, and his dark eyes were boring into Yeong’s quivering soul.

He couldn’t lie. He had to lie, but how could he with Gon right there?

Yeong frantically looked around for support. He looked to Eunseob, who appeared to be panicking even more than Yeong was. He looked to Shinjae, who motioned his head to Taeeul before smiling widely, and giving Yeong a subtle thumbs up.

He looked to Taeeul, who was assessing the situation with suspicion, the detective in her coming out as her internal cogs were whirring. Maybe Yeong couldn’t lie to Gon, but he had to lie to Taeeul. He had to throw her off his scent at all costs, because if she found out, it would be game over for him. She had more of an alliance with Gon than either Shinjae or Eunseob, and there was no way she’d be comfortable with her boyfriend spending time with his creepy perverted bodyguard, so there was no doubt that she’d tell him.

Yeong took a deep breath, and forced out the words, “I don’t have any secrets, Your Majesty.”

Eunseob almost collapsed from the relief. Shinjae looked like he’d just been told his dog had died.

“Fine.” Gon pulled back, putting his arm around Taeeul, and added, “But if I find out –”

“You won’t. Your Majesty. Because I have nothing to hide.”

Couldn’t Gon just drop it? He hated lying through his teeth like this, but it was the only way. The only way of preserving what little future with Gon he had left.

“Ok, ok, I believe you, don’t worry. Look, that wasn’t even why I came over here anyway – Taeeul, Shinjae and I were talking, and we need your expert advice.”

Expert? What was he an expert on that Gon, Shinjae, and Taeeul weren’t? The personal lives of the more talkative members of the Corean Royal Guard? The best tropes in GonJo fanfiction? All the things his mum hated about his dad, and vice versa?

“Even though someone,” Gon continued, giving a pointed look at Shinjae, “was so desperate to come here and start his new life, he didn’t put a single ounce of thought into how he was going to live here with no identity, no money, no job, no housing, nothing like that, and I thought with your job you’d be more than qualified to know how to make a person disappear, so you’d probably know how to make a person appear too.”

“Your Majesty.” Yeong didn’t know what to say, except, “Why the hell would you think I would know how to do that?”

“You’re my amazing Unbreakable Sword, you can do anything!”

“A lot of my job is spending time with you! I don’t get involved in this kind of shady business.”

“You mean to tell me you’re the most elite soldier in the entire Kingdom and you’ve never done some cool spy stuff like this?”

“That’s what the Intelligence Agency is for, not your Royal Guard.”

“Oh, forget it,” Shinjae sighed, sitting down on the bench next to Yeong. “Without Lee Lim, I’m never going to be a part of this world. I might as well go back to the Kingdom and pretend to have amnesia, and fall in love with Luna or some shit.”

“Why Luna?” Taeeul asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well I…” Shinjae faltered. “She kissed me, before the reset. Maybe I’m her type?” With this, he looked up hopefully at Taeeul, eyes wide and sparkling. So much hope in one simple look, so much unsaid and yet communicated perfectly, to someone that knew, at least.

Was that what Yeong looked like, when he was having a moment with Gon? He hoped not. That would be pathetic.

“Ha! I doubt it,” Taeeul laughed, shifting her hold on Gon so she was holding him a little closer. “You’re probably just like her adorable big brother.”

“Yeah.” Shinjae’s face fell, just a fraction. “You’re probably right.”

Jesus, this was definitely what Yeong looked like, wasn’t it? All the times Gon called them best friends, all the times he gravitated towards Taeeul, all the times he didn’t pick up on Yeong’s signals that were right in front of his eyes if he just looked a little harder.

Taeeul and Gon were just the same. Maybe they really were made for each other.

“Come on Shinjae, don’t be so discouraged!” Gon had his trademark King Lee Gon smile plastered on, which meant he was either stressed, unsure what to do, or both. “If you’re going to complain the whole time, I don’t want you in my Kingdom as much as I know you don’t want to be there, so I’m sure we can think of something!”

“Well, we could just do what Lee Lim did,” Eunseob mused, finally shaking slightly less than he was earlier. “He just swapped you for this world’s Shinjae – couldn’t we do the same thing?”

“Jo Eunseob, you really are a genius!” Gon exclaimed, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “We just need to swap you for coma-Shinjae and then you’re good to go!”

“Yeah,” Shinjae breathed, corners of his mouth starting to twitch upwards, looking to Taeeul as he said, “good to go. I can stay!”

“Can you?” Taeeul tugged on Gon’s sleeve, her concerned gaze flitting from him to Shinjae, then back to Gon again. “Gon, what if the Shinjae in this world isn’t… with us, anymore.”

“He should be.” Everyone turned to look at Yeong, who suddenly felt self-conscious with all those eyes looking at him. He was a guard, he followed orders, he didn’t give ideas, especially ones he wasn’t even sure about. Still, this was for Shinjae, so he had to try. “Look, without any interference, if someone dies in one world, they die in the other, right? And if our Shinjae is still here after the reset…”

“Then this world’s Shinjae must still be alive too,” Gon finished, looking at Yeong and looking… proud? Was it proud? Why would Gon be proud when all he did was say something that might not even be true?

It didn’t mean anything. That must have been the same look he gave Eunseob both times he had his genius ideas.

“Would he – would I be in the same care centre as before, without Lee Lim?” asked Shinjae, hovering on the edge of getting up as if his soul was crying out to go and investigate.

“I can check,” Taeeul said, whipping out her police badge and grinning. “If they don’t have anything to hide anymore, then they’re way more likely to let me in if I flash this.”

“Great! I’ll come with.” Shinjae stood, ready to take Taeeul’s hand and reclaim his job and his life, but Taeeul stopped him before he could go anywhere.

“Shinjae. You’re not in the police anymore, remember? I don’t think they’d let you in without a badge.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Shinjae sat back down, all the life of a few seconds ago drained out of his voice. “Have fun, then. Don’t do anything too illegal.”

“Pshht, don’t worry.” She pocketed her badge again, linking her arm round Gon’s. “It’s literally my job to uphold the law, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“Why are you going with him then?” Shinjae’s voice was cold, and Yeong could feel the ice from his glare even without turning to see his face.

“Oh, while I was waiting for you guys I got him a fake badge so he could help out!”

Shinjae’s mouth opened and closed like a fish for a second, before he eventually spluttered, “How?”

“I found pictures of Lee Jihun and then I pulled a few strings, spoke to a few people, and now I can take my boyfriend with me on cases!”

“And you didn’t think to get one for me?”

Taeeul sighed, rolling her eyes. “I assumed you were going to come back and earn one properly, dumbass. Also I figured there wouldn’t be any pictures of you, because, you know, other you is in a coma.”

“Ok but still, why him? Is he really even remotely qualified to help you on cases?”

“Oh Shinjae please,” Gon said, stretching up tall and brushing his fringe off his face and tilting his head so the morning sunlight glittered off his cheekbones in a way that definitely didn’t make Yeong’s heart flutter, “if I can run a country, I must be more than qualified to dabble in a bit of detective work.”

“The Kingdom is a constitutional monarchy, right? Doesn’t that mean the Prime Minister really runs the country, and your job is to smile and look pretty?”

Gon’s eye twitched, just a little, and Yeong noticed his stance change from one of carefree superiority to one of alertness and defence. “Are you kidding?” he laughed, a nervous, wounded laugh. “You could never even comprehend the complexities and responsibilities of my job, which I didn’t even ask for, by the way. Maybe I want to be a detective, maybe that would be my true calling, if I wasn’t stuck being a king.”

“Relax, Your Royal Majesty, I never said it was a bad thing. I’m sure Yeong agrees that you’re very good at looking pretty.” Shinjae nudged Yeong, who was in the process of choking on his own saliva.

Was today Push Jo Yeong Out Of The Closet Day? He would have appreciated some fucking warning.

“I –  um –” Yeong stammered, unable to form words as the whole group but especially Lee Gon looked at him for confirmation. Shinjae was smirking and lightly nodding his head in encouragement, but it wasn’t like Yeong had ever asked him to encourage him to be more open about this stuff, because really it was the last thing he wanted! Maybe this kind of approach was what he wanted to do to try and win over Taeeul, but in that scenario the outcomes would be either a relationship with her, or nothing changing, and that just wasn’t the case for Yeong.

Taeeul had her detective face on again. She was analysing every millisecond of his silence, so if he didn’t say something soon –

“You are pretty, Your Majesty,” he finally admitted, in the most unenthusiastic, monotone, emotionless voice he could muster. Yeong feared that if he didn’t go for that approach, he’d be screaming from the heavens that Lee Gon was the most beautiful man he’d ever met.

He looked to Taeeul. She seemed satisfied with that answer. Thankfully.

Gon seemed satisfied with it too, if eyes flashing wide for a split second as he was taken by surprise before lightly shaking his head and returning to normal counted as satisfaction.

Was even just that too forward? It seemed like the perfect balance between staying straight and not having Gon be pissed off at him.

No, it couldn’t have been. If Gon didn’t notice Yeong’s gay crisis yesterday when he was getting Yeong dressed, there was no way he would have suspected anything from that. He was safe, for now.

“Look, let’s just say we all know that Gon is very pretty,” Taeeul said, taking charge of the situation to Yeong’s immense relief, “but we had a job to do, remember? For Shinjae?” She smiled up at Gon who relaxed as he returned the gesture.

“Yes we did,” he agreed, linking his hand with hers.

Taeeul didn’t even need to be injured to get that treatment. She just had to exist to earn Gon’s love, which is a feat that Yeong would never be able to claim for himself.

He couldn’t help but dwell on that as he watched Gon and Taeeul walk away, hand-in-hand, on their way to start their lives as Corea’s greatest power couple.

***

“So what’s up with Yeong?” Taeeul asked, briefly glancing over at Gon as she drove them both to the care centre.

“You mean like what happened to him? I’m sure I already told you he got shot by one of Lee Lim’s men when we went back in time.”

“Yeah, I know that, but don’t you think he was acting oddly? He seemed… I don’t know. Scared, perhaps, but I don’t think that’s the right word. Like a rabbit caught in headlights.”

“Please,” Gon laughed, “my Unbreakable Sword? He doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear.” Gon smiled to himself. “It’s incredible, really, the things he does. He’ll face down an attacker without even batting an eyelid, won’t hesitate to put his life in danger to protect mine – I couldn’t ask for a better bodyguard.”

“Is that really what you think?” Gon turned to Taeeul, eyebrows creasing in confusion. “I’ve always thought he was scared. He’s brave, sure, but he worries a lot, mostly about you, and I mean it’s not like I can blame him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not exactly the most careful of people, just running off into an alternate universe with no protection, no money, no home, no ID, and then making a fool of yourself on a horse. It’s a good job I was the one who arrested you, otherwise you might still be in a jail cell now. But look I – has he really not seemed off to you?”

Gon took a moment to consider. Sure, Yeong wasn’t necessarily his usual self, but Gon wasn’t about to accuse him of anything after going through the incredibly traumatic experience of nearly dying, because no one was going to be on top form after something like that.

Then again… there was that thing in the forest that made his Captain go white. Gon never did get round to asking what it was that had spooked him then, but if it was a safety risk then Yeong would be dealing with it, right? Gon would know if it was necessary for him to know, because he knew Yeong, and Yeong would never want to scare him if it wasn’t necessary.

Was that what the secret was, that Yeong was telling Eunseob? The mysterious thing in the forest?

Well, at least Yeong was sharing his concern with someone he cared about. He really could be such a martyr sometimes, keeping things bottled up so as not to worry anyone else, so it was nice to see him being open. Even if it wasn’t with, you know, his best friend.

This was why Yeong desperately needed to get a girlfriend. He needed someone who could help him relax, someone who he could always be honest with. Thinking about it, realistically that person was never going to be his boss. Not that Gon had ever really had a boss, of course, but he imagined that the person you worked for wasn’t going to be the person you spilled your darkest secrets to.

No, it was good that Yeong had Eunseob, and it was good that Yeong was going to get a girlfriend. If he was scared now, that would help him immensely.

“He’ll be ok,” Gon said, and saying it out loud helped him to convince himself it was true. “I’m going to get him a girlfriend, so even if he’s not now, he will be.”

“You’re going to get him a girlfriend?” Taeeul scoffed, breaking into a grin. “Mr. I’ve-Totally-Had-A-Girlfriend-Before-Taeeul is going to try and help get one for Yeong?”

“I have had a girlfriend before!”

Taeeul smirked. “What was her name, then?”

“Uhh –”he hesitated, but he couldn’t let Taeeul have this one “ – Kim… Ah… Yeong. Kim Ahyeong.”

“A Yeong?” Taeeul threw her head back and laughed, slapping her hand against the steering wheel. “Yeong was your girlfriend?”

“What, no! I – Taeeul why would you say that?” Gon spluttered, looking at her in disbelief.

“I mean… He does think you’re pretty. And he follows you around everywhere.”

“That’s his job!”

“To think you’re pretty?”

“Why would that be his job? If that was the requirement, everyone in Corea would be Captain of the Royal Guard. You’re not even from the Kingdom and you would be the most qualified!”

“Mmmmmmm,” Taeeul pursed her lips, before saying, “No, I think your ex would still have me beat.”

“He is not my ex!”

“So you’re still dating, then? Lee Gon, this whole time have I been your sidepiece?”

“Taeeul. No.” Gon was so, so damn sick of this. First Lady Noh, and now his own girlfriend? “I love you, and only you. Why would I be dating Yeong when it’s clear that I love you?”

“If it’s so clear, why did it take you three days to come and find me? Oh yeah, Jo Yeong. Jesus, I wasn’t being serious before but –” She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laugh. Not at all. “ – that would actually make way too much sense.”

“Oh, is that what this is about? Come on, I’ve already apologised, haven’t I? And if Shinjae was dying I bet you’d have done the same.”

“Shinjae is my brother.”

“And Yeong is mine! If I think I’m about to lose him, that’s going to be on my mind, kind of a lot. I love you, but I love him too.”

“You love him?”

“As a brother! As a friend! Don’t you love your friends in the Republic? Why is me caring about Yeong such a bad thing? Why is this even an issue? It’s not exactly like he’d really be a love rival, because he’s, you know, a man! I should be way more worried about you ditching me for Shinjae than you should be about me ditching you for Yeong.”

“You don’t need to worry about Shinjae.”

“And you don’t need to worry about Yeong.” A silence fell between them. Taeeul’s face was stony, and Gon couldn’t bring himself to look at her when he knew he’d caused that, so he chose to look out of the window at Taeeul’s alien world instead.

Most of the time, the unfamiliarity of it was comforting, the knowledge of his anonymity a welcome change from his life back in Corea, but looking at it all passing by as Taeeul drove, the slight wrongness made him long for the streets of home. None of the women in the Kingdom would question his actions, his desires, his truth.

Well, except Lady Noh, but she was always going to be the exception.

Taeeul… he loved Taeeul. He did. He did, he had done since he was eight years old, so why wouldn’t she believe in their relationship? There was literally no other woman for him, not in Corea, not in Korea, not in any of the other thousands of worlds those portals led to.

Not that Yeong was a woman – but that just made their argument even more pointless! He was the King, so what he needed was a Queen. That’s the only way that story goes, because a King needs to produce an heir, an heir with royal blood, an heir not born out of wedlock, and that can only happen with a Queen. Even if there was a King whose tastes ran in the other direction, they had a responsibility to their country and their people to fulfil their duty, because that’s the job a King is born with, and that’s the job he has to do.

Gon was literally the only person in all of Corea who couldn’t have feelings for Yeong. Maybe Taeeul didn’t get that because she hadn’t grown up with a monarchy, but that didn’t stop it from being the undeniable truth of the situation.

She’d learn soon enough. When she came with him back to the palace and became his Queen, she’d understand the rules soon enough. And when he got to shower her in all the luxury that came with being Corean royalty, she’d understand that he didn’t have eyes for anyone else.

“I’m going to have to leave for longer periods than three days, you know,” Gon eventually said, still looking out of the window. “Things will come up and I could be gone for weeks, or months, and I won’t be able to get back to the portal, however much I want to.”

“I know.” She still seemed mad, but what could he do? He’s not the one who decided to date a King from another universe.

Gon took a deep breath, before continuing. “You could come with me, we, uh, we wouldn’t have to be apart, I mean, if you were my Queen. If you came to the Kingdom, and you married me.”

Taeeul laughed again, and that was enough to make Gon’s heart sink.

“You’re really terrible at proposals, you know that? When I was a little girl, I thought I’d be proposed to with flowers, and a ring, and some grand gesture like you see on TV, not in some roundabout way in a car, with a guy who can’t even look at me.” Gon looked at her, willing her to be happy, be eager, even, to accept his offer, but she just seemed mildly disappointed. “No, Lee Gon,” she said, dashing all his hopes of their perfect life, “I will not marry you.”

“Is that just because I’m bad at proposals?” Gon asked, already making plans for a grandiose proposal, with birds and confetti and a marching band.

“No.” She paused, considering. “It’s because of everything else.”

It took what felt like years to get to the care centre. They sat in silence the rest of the way there, Gon wanting to break the silence but not knowing how. What could he say, after that spectacular failure?

When he spoke to Lady Noh, he had been sure that Taeeul would come with him in a heartbeat, and then his Queen problem would be solved, and then there’d be no more assumptions. No more of that. How had he managed to get the same thing from the woman who was meant to fix that problem?

Yeong would never assume that about him. Yeong knew what Gon’s duty entailed, and Yeong respected that.

If they were in the Kingdom, if they’d never met Taeeul, he would be doing a job like this with Yeong. There would be no awkwardness between them, because working together was so natural it felt as easy as breathing.

Gon hoped Yeong was doing ok. Eunseob loved him, and it wasn’t a stretch to say that Shinjae liked him far more than he liked Gon, so they were probably getting along well. Almost definitely having a better time that Gon and Taeeul were.

They’d got into the centre without a hitch, perfectly acting as professional partners doing a routine check. It was surprising, and perhaps a little scary, how easy it was for them to act that way. They were boyfriend and girlfriend, for goodness’ sake, they were in love, and yet their acting in this situation was impeccable. Not just Taeeul’s acting, but Gon’s too.

It was probably just because they were fighting before, or because she’d rejected his proposal, so they weren’t on completely good terms. That had to be what it was. He didn’t let himself consider anything else.

Even when they were still acting professionally, well out of the staff’s sight.

“If he’s where he was last time, coma-Shinjae should be through here,” Taeeul said, her voice low enough that only Gon would be able to hear. She really was in her element; though her demeanour was serious, her eyes were alight with a passion that only appeared when she was absorbed in her work.

Maybe it was wrong of him to want to drag her away from this, but what other option did he have? If he didn’t have Taeeul…

No. He would have Taeeul. He had to. He had no future without her as his wife.

They went into that room, down in the depths of the care centre, and there he was. Shinjae, but also not. The man in this room was a ghost, his body forced to continue living by all the tubes and machines attached to it, even though his soul had obviously left years ago.

It looked eerily similar to Yeong, attached to those machines in Gon’s bed, a ghostly body with no soul. Almost a corpse, but not quite.

Gon couldn’t look at him for more than a few seconds at once. It hurt too much.

Taeeul was the opposite. She went down to his bedside, kneeling beside him, holding his cold hand in hers. She whispered something to him that Gon couldn’t make out. He let her have her moment. Seeing your brother, your best friend, laying lifeless like that – it was a lot.

Gon really hoped Yeong was ok. He hoped nothing had happened while he was gone, he hoped that thing that Yeong was scared of in the forest hadn’t followed them here.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Yeong ended up like this Shinjae for real.

“It’s weird,” Taeeul said, interrupting the silence for the first time since they’d entered the room. “I know he’s not my Shinjae, but…”

“But it still hurts,” Gon finished for her, going down to her and putting his arm around her, but still making sure to avoid looking at not-Shinjae.

“Yeah.” She leaned into his touch, her whole body relaxing under his arm. “It does.”

“You love him.” Like he loved Yeong. “Your Shinjae, I mean. Even if this isn’t actually him, it’s still going to hurt, whether you think it should or not.”

“Is this how you felt when Eunseob was shot?” She turned round to look at Gon, eyes brimming with suppressed tears, and it broke Gon’s heart. He pulled her in for a proper hug, letting her bury his head in his chest, and tried not to be relieved that he didn’t have to look at her face anymore.

“Yes,” he said, feeling his arms begin to shake as he remembered the feeling of Eunseob in his arms, as he remembered how in that moment it wasn’t Eunseob, but Yeong, as he remembered how later on he was glad that it wasn’t Yeong, and how he felt so guilty for thinking that but couldn’t stop himself from thinking it.

He then remembered how it was to hold Yeong in his arms in Cheonjongo, really Yeong this time, and how scared he was that Yeong was going to be gone. Out of his life forever, remembered only in pictures, only in his belongings, only in Gon’s regrets of the things he wished he’d been able to say before it was too late.

Gon hoped he wasn’t crying again. He had Taeeul in his arms, so the world should be right, he should be fine, he should be happy, but all he could think of was Yeong.

He wanted to hold Yeong like this, to hold him close and never let him go, to protect him from ever getting hurt again. He wanted to say sorry, and thank you, and I love you, and Gon didn’t want to consider what that meant because all that really mattered was that Yeong would finally, finally be happy, and safe, and loved.

He held Taeeul tighter, and she held him tighter in return, and that was how they stayed, until a nurse came in and found them, a police officer and a king, their faces red and sore and wet with tears, tangled in each other’s arms, crying over the men they loved.

Chapter Text

In that moment, it all made sense.

Years and years of companionship, of friendship, of what Gon finally knew was love – real, true love! Not like any of the women he’d dated, any of the men he’d fantasised about. This was real. The truth had been gnawing at his brain for days, weeks, months, years, and as he finally let his guard down, a whole host of new and wonderous feelings began to swell into his heart.

He knew what he had to do.

Dropping everything, he dashed to see his Captain, trying his best to formulate a plan of what he would say when he saw him.

‘Yeong-ah, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the girls, I’m sorry about my obliviousness, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to realise what you mean to me but I can truthfully say I’ve realised now.

‘You’re my everything. From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep, all I can think about is you. If I look deep enough into my heart, I know that you’re all I’ve ever wanted.

‘I love you, Jo Yeong. From the bottom of my heart, with all my very soul, I love you and only you.’

He was looking for Yeong for what felt like years, every wrong door opened tearing his heart open a little more. Why was the universe making this so difficult? Hadn’t he already kept Yeong waiting long enough?

Just as Gon was beginning to lose hope, he saw him. His beautiful, majestic, ethereal Jo Yeong, engrossed in his own little world, standing outside and marvelling at two little birds sitting on the branch of a cherry blossom tree, trying to take as many pictures as he could before they flew away.

It seemed almost a shame to distract him. Almost. But he had to do what had to be done.

He stepped outside, picking at the cuffs of his shirt as a sudden wave of nerves hit. He was the King of Corea, it wasn’t like he hadn’t had to say difficult things before, but this moment, just the two of them, was far more important than any official speech he’d ever had to give.

This was him. Raw, unfiltered Lee Gon, and it was terrifying.

“Yeong-ah,” he started, but when Yeong turned around and looked at him with those beautiful, sad eyes that bored into his very soul, all the words he’d prepared on the way vanished from his mind.

What was he meant to say? What could he say to a man of such perfection?

“Your Majesty…” Yeong said, looking away shyly, coyly. “Is something the matter? I thought you were meant to be at that meeting with the Chinese diplomat.”

“I couldn’t.” Gon stepped forward to Yeong, taking Yeong’s hands in his own. “I couldn’t do it, because I had to come and see you. Yeong, I –”

He couldn’t do it. Why was the truth so hard to say? It was cruel, for something to eat away at him for so long, only to be difficult to let into the world when the time came.

“Your Majesty,” Yeong said again, voice hushed as to almost be a whisper. “Gon. You don’t have to say anything, if it’s too hard. I understand.”

“No, Yeong-ah. Please. Let me. I need to do this, I need to – I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so blind, so blind about every little thing. About your feelings, and about my own.”

“Gon, please,” Yeong breathed, “I know you can’t. I know that even if we both wanted there to be something between us, it would be impossible. You need a Queen, you need an heir, and I can’t give you either of those things.”

“I don’t care! I don’t care about any of that, that’s always been people putting words into my mouth. Yeong-ah, all I care about is you.”

“But Gon –”

Gon didn’t have time for any more dancing around the point. Soon, people would come looking for him, and if he didn’t go for it in this moment, he wasn’t sure he ever would.

So he took Yeong’s face into his hands, and kissed him.

It was like a dream. The repressed emotions of the past twenty-six years all came flooding out into this one heavenly merging of their bodies, of their very souls, and Gon never wanted the moment to end.

Despite his initial surprise, it didn’t take long for Yeong to ease into the kiss too, letting his hands roam across Gon’s chest and down his body, before pulling himself close enough that they might have looked like one being, instead of two.

“I love you,” Gon whispered, in-between breathless kisses. “I’ve always lo –

“Myeong Seungah!”

The stern voice of Head Court Lady Noh stopped her in her tracks, and she quickly closed her document and opened… what was it she was actually supposed to be working on?

Looking for the King! Right, right. And Captain Jo. And that weirdo they both apparently knew.

“Head Court Lady!” Seungah said with a smile, turning around in her chair and trying to ignore Lady Noh’s obvious look of disapproval. “I was just… um… working on a story. For the press. That’s why you hired me, right? For my… stories.”

“Don’t lie to me, Myeong Seungah. If you were working on something the press would like to see, somehow I don’t think you’d be that desperate to close the tab when I came in the room.”

Seungah laughed nervously, wringing her hands and suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

“I don’t mind you writing your fanfiction,” Lady Noh continued, “but next time do you think you could work on it outside of office hours?”

“Yes, Head Court Lady. Sorry, Head Court Lady.” Seungah bowed her head, biting her lip and praying that Lady Noh would just go away, and definitely not so she could just finish writing that one little bit, or at least that one sentence. Honestly, Lady Noh had such bad timing – it was just getting to the good part!

“Good,” Lady Noh said, turning to leave and taking a couple of steps toward the door before turning back round and saying, “But if you do write more of that, maybe you could accidentally send some to His Majesty. He knows he needs to get his act together about his love life, and I think he’d appreciate a bit of an incentive, just to give him something to think about.”

It took all of Seungah’s strength not to cry out with glee until Lady Noh left the room. Send it to His Majesty himself?

Man, Yeong was really going to want to hear about this.

Chapter Text

“So,” Shinjae said, leaning back on the bench and looking inquisitively at Yeong, after Gon and Taeeul had left to go on their little couples’ adventure, “is your secret what I think it is?”

Yeong sighed. Of course they were going to talk about this. Of course he had to face this yet again.

Before the parallel worlds thing, he had managed to keep his secret for fifteen years, but as soon as that portal opened, it was as if there was an old-fashioned town crier yelling ‘Hear ye, hear ye! Captain Jo Yeong harbours homosexual feelings for the King, and wants everyone to talk about it!’

“Yes,” Yeong groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “it is. Eunseob knows too, because he doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘privacy.’”

Shinjae gave Yeong a confused look, so he explained, “He read the notes on my phone.”

“Isn’t your phone password protected?”

“Face ID. And he has my face.”

“I also know your laptop password too,” Eunseob chimed in, “but Gon asked me to work out that one.”

Yeong’s heart missed a beat. If the stuff on his phone was incriminating, then the stuff on his laptop… It didn’t even bear thinking about.

As calmly as he could manage, Yeong asked, “What, exactly, did His Majesty want with my laptop?”

“Oh, don’t worry, just official stuff. He didn’t look through any of your personal files or anything, as far as I’m aware.”

“Jo Eunseob. Did you look through my personal files?”

“Pshhht, of course not,” Eunseob brushed him off, waving his hand and very deliberately avoiding eye contact. “But I must say, even though I don’t swing that way, some of those pictures were –”

“Jo Eunseob!” Yeong was shaking. He was going to kill that man, magical scar consequences be damned.

“Guys, guys,” Shinjae interjected, resting a hand on Yeong’s shoulder that was probably meant to be calming, but really only made his anger burn hotter. “Ok, so Yeong is a pervert and Eunseob needs to respect boundaries, and frankly, neither of those surprise me, but none of that is going to change if you fight.”

Yeong scoffed. “Says you, arguing with His Majesty whenever you get the chance.”

“That’s different. He’s an asshole – and don’t try to fight me, because I know you think so too.”

“Aw, he’s not an asshole,” Eunseob said, pouting his lips. “He’s nice to me; I mean, he made me his Unbreakable Sword.”

“Yeong’s meant to be his Unbreakable Sword, and he just gave that title to you, with no real basis? Asshole.”

“Ok, well, he kept Yeongie here to protect Eun-bi and Kka-bi for me, in case Lee Lim came to hurt them. That was nice.”

“Why would they have been in danger? They weren’t related to Gon in any way, and he took you away from them unnecessarily, putting you in danger, which got you shot. Asshole.”

“Well, he’s nice to Taeeul! From the way she talks about him, he must be a pretty good boyfriend.”

Shinjae took a deep intake of breath, and suddenly Yeong dreaded what he was going to say next.

“First of all, you’re preaching to the wrong crowd with that one. Secondly, he kept her waiting, which I know she is pissed about. Thirdly, he’s a terrible boyfriend to Taeeul just as a matter of principle, because he’s actually in love with Yeong.”

“He is?” Eunseob asked, eyes wide and sparkling, and it was almost comical watching a version of himself look the exact opposite of how Yeong felt.

Seriously. Yeong knew Shinjae was desperate to get Taeeul, but desperate enough that he’d make up feelings that weren’t there? That was a new low.

“Oh yeah, I think so. I must say, just the things he’s been doing over the last few days have been pretty suspicious.”

“No, they haven’t.” The other two turned to stare at Yeong, but he didn’t have the energy to meet their gaze. “All he’s been doing is trying to be a friend, in a very heterosexual way. I mean, he’s trying to set me up with a woman, for fuck’s sake, and that doesn’t exactly sound like something that someone that was in love with me would do.”

Shinjae was delusional. Actually delusional.

“Ok but Yeong, hear me out,” the delusional man said, a goofy smile beginning to grace his lips, “he wants to set you up with Seungah because he wants to make sure you’re loved, because he loves you.”

“Seungah… isn’t that Nari?” Eunseob was bouncing up and down with barely-contained excitement. “Yeongie, you’re going on a date with Nari? Actual Other Nari?”

“Eunseob. I only like men. And she knows that, so it’s not even going to look or feel like a convincing date, but I just know that His Majesty is going to be there, hiding somewhere, monitoring us and making sure I’m having a good time, even if it’s going to be literal hell. I might even have to kiss her.” He shuddered at the thought. Seungah was lovely, but just… no. He had enough self-respect not to do that.

“I mean, you could always practise with Nari, if you want?” Eunseob offered, somehow deadly serious despite the ridiculous offer. “If we explain your situation, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“What, that I’m your gay doppelganger from another world, and an oblivious king that I have feelings for set me up on a date with Nari’s doppelganger from my world, and so I need her to practise dating with so I don’t disappoint him?” It sounded so stupid. It was so stupid.

“No, I meant we could say that you’re my long-lost twin or something, and you need dating advice, and so naturally I recommended her because I love her and think she’s amazing at love.”

“And you think she’ll believe you have a long-lost twin?”

“I have twin siblings, and twins often run in families, so yeah, I think she will.”

“It’s not necessarily a bad idea,” Shinjae offered, earning a look of utter disbelief that he could even say such a thing from Yeong. “Look, the worst that could happen is you could get some dating advice, and who knows? You might be able to use some of it on Gon in the future.”

“I can’t start flirting with His Majesty.”

“Not with that attitude you can’t!”

“I can’t, whatever attitude I have! What part of ‘he’s straight,’ and ‘I’d like to keep my job’ don’t you understand! I have everything to lose, and nothing to gain, so any kind of flirting, any kind of move-making – it’s pointless!”

“But Yeong –”

“But nothing! All that ‘be true to your heart’ nonsense, that doesn’t apply to me! All that will do is make my situation worse. At best I’ll lose my job and my best friend, and at worst I’ll be the shame of the nation, and the press will make my life so unbearable that I’ll have to live the rest of my life in exile, in some remote farm in a foreign country. Or who knows, maybe His Majesty will have me publicly beheaded, to make an example of me, of what happens when people close to him break his trust.”

“Yeongie…” Eunseob put an arm round him and pulled him close, but Yeong couldn’t relax into the embrace. Eunseob had it so easy, falling for a beautiful woman with a comfortable life who loved him back. They’d probably get married in a few years’ time, maybe have a few children, become great, loving parents, and then grow old together. They would be the perfect picture of domestic bliss, the perfect nuclear family, no real care in the world.

Yeong didn’t know if he wanted that life or not. Not that it mattered anyway – he was already high-profile enough that even if he found a woman and settled down with her, they’d never be able to have a normal life. He’d always be the King’s Unbreakable Sword first, and a person second.

His life would always be tied to Gon’s. He’d sealed his fate years ago, arguably back when he was four years old, and he’d met Gon for the first time. Who’d have thought that going to talk to a crying king would land him in such a mess, twenty-six years on?

“I hate it,” Yeong said, and it was true. “I hate how I feel about him. I wish I could just… not. I don’t want to love him. Sometimes, part of me doesn’t even want to like him. I just – I want to move on, but I can’t.” He paused. “God, this is sad. You must think I’m pathetic, feeling all sorry for myself like this.”

“Yeongie no,” Eunseob soothed, gently rubbing his back, trying to help but not really helping. “You’re not pathetic, you’re just hurt, and even big strong men like you are allowed to be hurt sometimes. But if you’re serious about wanting to move on… Shinjae and I could help you find someone else, right Shinjae?”

Shinjae folded his arms, unconvinced, and said, “I still think he has a shot with Gon.”

“You just want him to take Gon away from Taeeul so you can have her for yourself. This isn’t about you, this is about Yeongie, and he’s going to be sad if you don’t help.”

“Eunseob,” Yeong started, “I really don’t care –”

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll help. But I still think looking for someone else is unnecessary.”

“Not about you, Kang Shinjae! Don’t listen to him Yeongie, he’s only going to prolong your suffering. You’ve got me now, and I’m gonna get you what you really need.”

Yeong rolled his eyes. “Five more hours of sleep?”

“Even better than that. I’m gonna get you a Nari.”

Thankfully, for the first time since they’d arrived in Korea, Yeong was in a group of people with someone who had money – and more importantly, who had enough money to hire a taxi. Even though it was nowhere close to the amount of luxury Yeong was used to travelling in, just being able to sit in a car felt like he was in a golden chariot fit for a god.

That is, if a golden chariot looked anything like a 2003 Toyota Corolla. At least it was a car, and not a tired horse, or nothing at all.

When they reached The Alley, his black stallion, Eodum, was there waiting for him, still dressed in his beautiful royal garb, standing out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of the flats and Nari’s little coffee shop. Yeong made sure to go and give him a friendly pat, and he nickered softly, seeming to have forgiven him for the gruelling journey yesterday. Yeong chuckled. Someone must have fed him.

“Yeongie!” Eunseob called, making a fool of himself by waving his arms above his head to get Yeong’s attention, “Are you going to come and see Nari or not?”

Making a mental note to get Eodum some of the Kingdom’s finest apples when they got back, Yeong went with them into the shop, keeping his head down and praying Nari wouldn’t faint when she saw how identical he was to Eunseob.

She didn’t, but for a second it looked like it might have gone that way.

She was halfway through greeting Eunseob with a “Hey honey, you’re here early,” before she laid eyes on Yeong and froze, dropping the cup she was filling, spilling iced coffee all over the floor of the shop.

“Eunseob,” she hissed, not taking her eyes off Yeong, carefully watching his every move, “why is there two of you? You – you see it too, right? He looks like you but… more miserable.”

“No, I can only see one,” Shinjae said, trying and failing to keep a straight face as he leaned on the counter, eyeing the spilled coffee with concern.

“Hey!” Nari folded her arms, and glared at Shinjae. “I’m trying to have a conversation with my boyfriend, weirdo. If you want a drink, you’re going to have to wait.”

“Nari, come on, it’s – ”

“How do you know my name? Are you a stalker? Do I need to call the police? Jo Eunseob, why did you have to leave the police force? You could have dealt with this guy for me if you still had your badge.”

Eunseob chuckled nervously, looking between Nari and Shinjae like they were bombs about to go off. “Nari, honey,” he soothed, reaching over to hold her hand, “this is my friend Kang Shinjae, who knows your name because I told him about you. I’m sorry he was so forward, but you must just seem so familiar to him because I’ve said so many good things about you. And as for the, well, the other me, this is my…” he looked at Yeong, who shrugged. What did it matter, as long as she helped. “…my twin, Jo Yeong. Long lost twin, who was adopted by a really rich family when we were just born, and he’s just recently made contact.”

“He’s rich?” Nari looked Yeong up and down, and Yeong felt like it wasn’t just his appearance that was being judged, but his entire soul, his entire character. He already knew the conclusion she would draw. Stuck-up, budget Eunseob, who just felt wrong, somehow.

She scrunched up her nose, and just said, “When he came in, I thought he was homeless. Your other friend too, actually. Are they homeless?”

Shinjae looked away. For him, if he wanted to stay in this world, the answer was technically yes.

“No, Nari, they’re not homeless. At least, I’m pretty sure they’re not homeless. They just had a bit of a rough night.”

“Ah.” Nari smiled knowingly, leaning on the counter. “Too much to drink, huh?”

“Definitely not,” Yeong muttered, as Shinjae said, “Yeah, something like that.”

As if. Yeong would never be caught dead having too much to drink. There was far too much at stake for him to risk having a loose mouth and reduced inhibitions.

“Well,” Nari said, clasping her hands together and putting on her best customer service smile, “what can I get you boys today? Something with lots of caffeine, to keep you going after your ‘rough night?’”

“Actually, we sort of had something else in mind.” Eunseob put his arm round Yeong, who did his best not to look absolutely petrified at the thought of what Eunseob was going to say.

From the way Shinjae was snickering, it wasn’t working. Why were these people from the Republic so good at teasing his feelings out? In the Kingdom, he could go for days without anyone managing to break his composure.

“Yeongie here needs your help,” Eunseob continued, leaning in close to Nari to whisper, “with love.”

“Love?” Nari’s face immediately lit up, and just seeing that caused Yeong’s heart to sink. She smiled at him, a cheeky, knowing half-smile, and asked, “So, who’s the lucky lady?”

Silence fell across the three of them. Eunseob nervously shifted on his feet, looking at Yeong with dread in his eyes. Shinjae looked as if he was about to say something, but Eunseob’s wariness was contagious, and he too shut his mouth.

Great. This whole thing was up to Yeong to explain, and he just loved talking to people about his feelings.

“Ok, well, she is a lady,” Yeong started, hating the way these words were feeling in his mouth, “but I wouldn’t say she’s an especially lucky one.”

“Aw, why not? Have you never been on a date with a woman before?” There was pity in her eyes, and Yeong hated it. Wanted to gouge her eyes out so they’d never pity him again.

“Technically yes.” This was excruciating, it was excruciating! “But –”

“How have you gone this long in your life without ever having been on any dates? You’re rich and your face is gorgeous – is your personality that bad?”

“Probably also yes.” Eunseob smacked his arm and made a face at him for that. “But –”

“Are you still a virgin? You may be identical to Eunseob but that doesn’t mean I’m going to practise that kind of stuff with you.”

“No, Nari I –” They were staring at him. All of them, all three sets of eyes tearing him apart from the inside.

It was fine. Two of them already knew. It was basically just like telling one person, and he’d done that three times before. Sort of. Technically they’d all asked him, or told him they knew, and he just needed to say yes, but this would have the same end result.

Say the words, you coward. Say the words, and they’ll move on, and stop staring, and waiting, and piling on the pressure.

Yeong closed his eyes, took a deep breath, swallowed down his nerves, suddenly wishing he had really gone out drinking last night so the alcohol would still be in his system, and told her the truth. His truth. “I’m gay.”

“Oh.” She took a moment to process, and then just said, “ok.”

Ok? That was it? The first time he had ever said those words in that order out loud to someone else, and all he got as a reaction was ‘ok?’

Where were the hugs? The tears? The pride flags? The rainbow confetti? Didn’t she realise how much effort it had taken for him to say that? This was a pivotal moment for him!

“So, you see why he needs help?” Eunseob said, also brushing over Yeong’s moment as if it didn’t fucking matter. “I thought that because you’re really nice and great at romance, you might be able to help him, I don’t know, practise?”

“Why is he even going on a date with her if he’s not interested? Isn’t that leading her on for no reason?”

“She already knows,” Yeong said with a sigh, “the whole thing is a sham.”

“Yeah,” Shinjae chimed in, being super helpful as always, “and he’s just playing along with it because the guy he likes is the one that set him up on this date in the first place, and little Yeongie can’t say no to Gon.” That last part was directed straight to Yeong, who really, really was going to kill him.

“Didn’t you agree to help me find someone else?” he asked, voice tinted with a sharp edge that he hoped Shinjae would pick up on.

“Barely. You know what I really think.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake –

“He is not in love with me, he’s in love with Taeeul! He’s Taeeul’s boyfriend!”

“Taeeul has a boyfriend?” Nari asked, missing the point of this conversation entirely.

“Yes she does,” Shinjae said, “and he’s an asshole. Wanna see a picture? Yeong has him on his lockscreen.”

“Can I? As her friend, it’s only right that I should judge her taste.”

“Trust me, it’s shit.”

“Let me see!”

Reluctantly, Yeong got out his phone and showed the picture to Nari. Having her look at that specific one, the both of them dressed up in their navy uniforms, enjoying one of their last moments together before Gon crossed over into the Republic and found the love of his life – the moment felt eerily similar to when Seungah found that very same picture, and eventually became the first person to know. About him.

At the time, he had been terrified. Now?

He was still terrified. Yeong thought that perhaps he always would be.

“A man in uniform!” Nari remarked, yanking the phone out of Yeong’s hand so she could get a closer look. “Damn, he looks high-ranking – he must be badass!”

Yeong smiled to himself, perhaps the first time he’d really felt like smiling all day. “He’s not, really. He just climbed the ranks really quickly because of his family, but he’s actually pretty terrible at being a naval officer. All that uniform is purely ceremonial.”

Nari looked up from the phone. “Yours too?”

“Hell no,” Yeong laughed – actually laughed! “My rank is completely deserved.”

“Yeah, Yeongie’s really badass! Oh Nari you should see him, he can beat up bad guys like yah! Hiyah!” Eunseob was moving his arms around in a laughable imitation of martial arts, and normally Yeong would have corrected him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to when it was bringing a smile to his face.

Eunseob thought he was badass? He’d be right in thinking that, of course, but just hearing it still made Yeong feel good. He had forgotten how easy it was for Eunseob to brighten his mood, even when it didn’t want to be brightened.

Would it be too self-centred to show Nari a video of him training? It wouldn’t, right?

He went and found one of the more impressive ones, and the look of sheer astonishment and wonder on Nari’s face let him know he’d made the right decision.

“I’m sorry Eunseob,” she sighed dreamily, making heart eyes at the phone, “but I think I might have to leave you for your twin.”

“Nari,” Eunseob whined, “you can’t do that, you hardly know him, and he’s gay!”

“Shame,” she tutted, before handing Yeong’s phone back to him, picture of him and Gon flashing bright again, for all the world to see. “You know, if I was Taeeul’s boyfriend, I’d leave her for you. No offence to Taeeul, but hot damn.”

Yeong couldn’t help but laugh, because what else could he do? “That’s the dream,” he said with a shrug, putting the phone back in his pocket, “but it’s just that. A dream. I really should actually find someone else. I mean, there’s plenty of fish in the sea, right?”

Shinjae was about to say something, but Eunseob sharply elbowed him before he could.

“You know something, Yeong?” Nari said, standing back, with her hands on her hips, “I think you’re gonna ace this date. Just show her what you just showed me, and she’ll fall right into your arms, and that’ll be more than enough to get through one little meal or something.”

Yeong shook his head. “She already knows about that stuff, that’s not going to impress her. I just need – is there something that girls like? I don’t even really need it for her, just if His Ma– if, um, if Taeeul’s boyfriend decides to intervene and spy on us or something.”

“If it’s just performative like that… make sure you pull out her chair for her, pay for the bill at the end, and, I don’t know, just look like you’re interested? Maybe you should imagine she’s Taeeul’s boyfriend instead, then you’d probably get the look right.”

“Yeah, because that’s going to help me get over him.”

Nari held her hands up, pleading innocence. “I’m not saying it’s necessarily healthy, I’m just saying it’ll work.”

“Iced coffee for two?” The group turned around to see the lovebirds themselves entering the shop. They seemed closer than ever – something had shifted since they left to go and find coma-Shinjae, something that Yeong couldn’t put his finger on, but something that he definitely knew was there.

Taeeul’s body language softened at the sight of their own Shinjae, as if a crippling weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she ran the rest of the way to him, pulling him into a tight embrace which Shinjae returned, softly rubbing her back. Yeong expected Gon to be irked by that, like he was earlier on in the park, but strangely enough, he didn’t seem to care at all. In fact, he seemed to understand, somehow, though Yeong didn’t know what it was he was understanding.

Leaving his girlfriend to have her moment with Shinjae, Gon came to join the rest of the group. Or more specifically, Yeong. He pulled Yeong close to him, but softer than what Taeeul did with Shinjae, treating him carefully so as not to disturb his injury any more than he had to. He leaned his head against Yeong’s, breathing in deeply and taking in his scent, and cradled the back of Yeong’s head with a trembling hand.

Despite Gon’s best efforts at keeping Yeong’s chest clear, Yeong couldn’t breathe. What? What was happening? Was Gon possessed? He never – he didn’t hug! No one but Taeeul!

What the fuck had happened in the care centre?

Yeong wanted to cry, but whether they were tears of joy or sorrow, he wasn’t sure. He was meant to be getting over Gon, meant to be moving on, and yet he couldn’t deny the way his heart was soaring at Gon’s touch, at the way he held him like he wanted to protect him, to hold onto him with no sign of letting go. He knew it didn’t mean anything, he knew that, but living in the fantasy that he might just be important to the man of his dreams was far too enticing to snap out of.

“We found him,” Gon said, talking to the group but making no move to stop holding onto Yeong.

“So I can stay?” Shinjae asked, his excitement palpable.

“You can stay. Taeeul’s going to need to fudge the paperwork, but when that’s done, you can start your life here. For real.”

“Sorry, are you guys speaking in code or something? What’s going on? Who did you find?” From his position, Yeong could just about make out the look of utter confusion gracing Nari’s face.

“I’ll tell you later,” Eunseob whispered, “it’s a very long story.”

“Before it’s all sorted, do you want to stay at mine?” Taeeul proposed, and Yeong could swear he heard fireworks popping off in Shinjae’s heart. “For real this time, I mean. I won’t kick you out at 5AM, I’ll make sure you have better food than cup ramen, and –”

“It’ll be perfect,” Shinjae soothed, “whatever you can do will be perfect. Thanks, Taeeul. I’ll owe you one.”

“Shut up. You’re my bro, you don’t owe me anything.”

“Yeong-ah.” Gon’s voice was like velvet, softly whispering his name next to his ear. “Would you be able to make the journey home today? I must admit, it’s rather unusual for me, but I’ve been feeling kind of homesick, and I think I need to sleep in my own bed tonight, if that’s ok with you.”

Yeong couldn’t conceal his smile, making him even more grateful than before for Gon’s embrace, as that was the only thing hiding his traitorous face from the world. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day, Your Majesty.”

***

When the day came to a close, Yeong and Gon rode back to the kingdom together on Eodum, after Gon had perhaps had a few too many of Taeeul’s mega-drinks. Yeong had politely declined, claiming he was avoiding drink until he was feeling better in himself in regards to his injury and luckily, Taeeul believed him. She hardly seemed to notice anyone except Shinjae, anyway, as she spent the whole rest of the day doting on him, giving him as much love as she could before it became weird.

Shinjae was having the time of his life. Yeong really wondered what had happened in the care centre. It must have been disturbing, if Taeeul had come out acting like this.

It was nearly midnight by the time they arrived back in the Kingdom. As soon as they got back in range, Yeong’s phone blew up with more messages and missed calls, mostly from his mother and the mysterious Haeun and Kangmin. He didn’t spare them more than a glance. That was a tomorrow-him problem.

As he had done so many times before when Gon had over-extended himself during the day, Yeong ended up taking him all the way back to his bedroom. The life-support machines from the day before had all been removed – to his own apartment, or back to an actual hospital, Yeong wasn’t sure. It didn’t really matter. If he could survive a night on Taeeul’s sofa, he could survive a night on an actual bed, life-support or not.

Gon sat on the end of his bed, swinging his legs but making no real effort to get in. He looked up at Yeong quizzically, and Yeong just smiled back.

“What, Your Majesty?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just admiring my bodyguard, that’s all. You look nice.”

What a lie. After wearing the same clothes for two days straight, he probably looked like shit.

Oh – the clothes!

Yeong tugged on the hem of his coat. “Do you want these back, Your Majesty? They’ll need washing, but –”

“Keep them. They suit you.”

“Ok.” Yeong’s soul was singing, and he prayed Gon was too intoxicated to notice the small hint of a blush he could feel burning his cheeks.

“Yeong-ah.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“We’re friends, right? You and me, we’re friends.”

What a loaded question. A loaded question, with a correct answer. Why was he even asking?

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he answered, trying not to sigh, “you said it yourself a couple of nights ago; we’re best friends.” Nothing more. Never anything more.

“Yeah. Best friends. Doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

“Have people been questioning our friendship?”

“Something like that.”

They fell into silence. Yeong didn’t know what to say. Had Shinjae been saying things to Gon? He hadn’t noticed it, and he usually noticed everything, but he didn’t put it past Shinjae to find a way to torment him in a way that no one else would recognise.

He was really, really, really going to kill that man. He had agreed to help Yeong get over Gon, not to start putting dangerous ideas into Gon’s head.

If he got Yeong fired, there would be hell to pay.

Yeong looked over at Gon, one final time. Although he desperately didn’t want it to, it hurt, knowing he was going to move on. Move on from fifteen years of love, of yearning for something he could never have.

It was almost like he was letting Gon down, even though he knew it wouldn’t make the slightest difference to Gon’s life at all. He had Taeeul, and he was happy, and that’s what Yeong wanted for him. Really, truthfully it was.

He went over to the door, turned off the light, and with a heavy heart, said, “Goodnight, Your Majesty.”

Yeong closed his eyes, and sighed. It felt like he was saying goodbye.

“Wait. Yeong-ah.” Yeong’s breath caught in his throat. Gon, no. Don’t do this. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.

He turned around, facing Gon once again. Gon, whose eyes shone wet from the light reflecting in from the corridor, who looked like a child in the darkness, instead of a king.

“Stay.” It was barely a whisper, but in Yeong’s mind it was deafening. “Stay with me, Yeong-ah. Here. Tonight. Please.”

“But Your Majesty –”

“Please. I need you. Just for tonight. Please.”

Yeong was really, really meant to be getting over Gon. It was a really good idea, and he was glad Eunseob was going to help him with it.

However, Eunseob wasn’t here. And Gon was. Gon was here, and Gon needed him, and it was only for one night, and Shinjae was right. He couldn’t say no to Gon.

So, against his better judgement, Yeong closed the bedroom door without leaving, took off his clothes, and climbed into bed. With Gon.

And tried not to scream when Gon put his arm around Yeong’s exposed body, holding him close as he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Not for the first time in his thirty-four years of life, Lee Gon wondered why the hell he had spent so long single.

Not, of course, that Yeong was his boyfriend. Obviously.

Obviously.

But waking up to the feeling of being tangled in a loved one’s embrace was apparently one of the best feelings in the world.

In all honesty, last night was… a blur, to put it mildly. He hardly remembered even coming back home, let alone inviting Yeong back into his bed, but he couldn’t find it within himself to feel embarrassed, or ashamed, or disappointed in himself for letting the drinks get the better of him.

How could he be disappointed when the consequences were waking up with his best friend?

It was odd, though, for Yeong to be holding him so close. Not in a bad way, mind, as the feeling of Yeong’s skin against his own felt far nicer than he cared to admit, but definitely odd.

Maybe that was his own fault. He’d spent so long demanding not to be touched, and then getting Yeong to enforce that rule on others, that they’d both forgotten how it felt to really, truly be held by the other. Sure, Gon had been initiating more physical contact over the past couple of days, but that was nothing compared to this. This was a level of casual intimacy he hadn’t even dared to try with Taeeul for fear of the touch being far too much to handle, but it felt completely natural with Yeong.

Was that weird? That wasn’t weird. He and Yeong had known each other since they were children, it made sense that Yeong would be the one he’s most comfortable with. It was just the number of hours they’d spent together; it was just science.

It must be science too, then, that right now being wrapped up in Yeong’s arms felt far more favourable than the thought of being in Taeeul’s embrace. It was because his instincts knew, somehow, that Yeong was stronger, more capable of protecting him, and the animal inside him liked that. For survival – a basic survival instinct, nothing more.

Thank God he wasn’t a liberal arts person. He didn’t want to even consider the conclusions he might have come to if that were the case.

No wonder Taeeul thought that he – no wonder she thought the things she did. It was just her liberal arts brain making up fantasies that had no basis in the real, scientific world.

Yeong wouldn’t think those things too, would he? Even if Taeeul said something to him, surely there was no way he would think twice. He would know straight away that it was made up, that Gon didn’t–

That he didn’t want anything to change, about their friendship. That he didn’t want it to be tainted with rumours that worked their way up into your soul, and clawed at your doubts enough to ruin beautiful moments like this.

If Yeong thought that about him, then he would never hold Gon again, never let himself be held by Gon in return, and Gon couldn’t let that go. Not now he was just rediscovering how much he wanted it. How much he needed it –

In a completely normal, heterosexual way. So really it wouldn’t matter if Yeong thought that, because Yeong was smart, far smarter than himself, and he would know that you can desire this sort of deep connection with a friend without there being any attraction there, not that there would ever be any attraction between them, because there definitely wasn’t, why would there be? He had Taeeul, Yeong had Seungah, and so there would never be anything between him and Yeong, and that was a good thing, definitely a good thing, because Yeong would be happy and that’s all that Gon really wanted for him, in a totally normal friendly way of course, and… he was spiralling.

This really wasn’t worth spiralling about, when he was only mulling over details of a hypothetical situation that would never affect him!

Time to think about something else. Anything else.

Like… um…

Gon looked down to the sleeping Yeong for inspiration, and to his immediate relief, noticed him beginning to stir. When Yeong awoke properly, he’d know exactly what to say to calm Gon’s racing mind.

“’m dreaming,” Yeong murmured, his eyes fluttering open for a second before he closed them again. “You can’t fool me again, Satan.”

Gon couldn’t help laughing to himself. God, Yeong was cute when he was sleepy. So far removed from the tough bodyguard of his waking hours.

“Satan?” Gon asked, quietly enough so as to not startle Yeong. “Must have been one scary dream.”

“No, no, this is the – oh. It’s not a dream, is it? You’re not –” Yeong’s face went beet red, and he scrambled out of Gon’s arms at the speed of light, settling himself into a tight, protective ball on the other side of the bed.

‘Settling’ was perhaps the wrong word. Yeong didn’t really look settled at all.

“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty,” he breathed, injured chest rising and falling at a hundred miles an hour. “I shouldn’t have – I can’t believe I… you… we… it wasn’t my intention, I swear.”

“Yeong-ah, please. It’s ok. If there’s anything you need to apologise for, it’s running away from me like that; I was quite enjoying having your arms around me.”

“You… you enjoyed it? But Your Majesty, we were, um, you know, and I’m not Taeeul, and –”

“Yeong. Stop talking, and get back here.” Gon opened his arms to invite Yeong back, and Yeong’s eyes opened almost as wide.

“But Your Majesty –”

“Will you come if I tell you it’s an order from your King?”

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Yeong crawled back into Gon’s arms, and for a moment Gon felt a twinge of guilt for possibly slightly abusing his powers, before he noticed a hint of a smile creeping onto Yeong’s plush lips.

Myeong Seungah was a very lucky woman, to be in with a shot of kissing those.

They sat like that for a while, Gon acutely aware of every little shift in Yeong’s movement, every rise and fall of his chest, every tiny scrape back and forward of the bandages wrapped around Yeong’s body moving against his own. So much sensation, all of it sending tiny sparks running up and down his skin in a way he had never felt before, in a way he knew he would hate if it wasn’t Yeong, but it was Yeong, and just that one simple fact made all the difference.

How could he hate a reminder that his Yeong was there, and with him, and alive, when that hadn’t been so certain just a few days ago?

In fact, in these precious, stolen moments, Jo Yeong seemed more alive than he ever had been before the reset. Not in terms of movement or alertness – he had recovered from his initial shock, and was now certifiably sleepy again – but in terms of feeling. For the first time in a very long time, it was blatantly obvious what Yeong was feeling, and what he was feeling was joy. Happiness. Bliss.

Peace. His ever-vigilant, ever-worried Captain Jo was at peace. With him.

Was this really all it would have taken, all this time? One lazy morning with his best friend?

Perhaps it should have been obvious. When was the last time Yeong had taken a moment to relax, let his barriers down, be loved? Certainly not recently, not with all the Lee Lim stuff going on, but even before then…

Before they crossed over to the other world, they didn’t have friends. An orphaned King and a boy practically adopted by the palace after his parents’ divorce, trained from a young age to become his right-hand man – his Unbreakable Sword, as Gon had dubbed him when they first met. They were the most powerful children in the country, and because of that, they were untouchable. It’s a well-known fact that friendship has its ups and downs, and no one wanted to face the consequences of a ‘down’ with Lee Gon or Jo Yeong, and that was fine, because they had each other.

Except when they didn’t. Except when childhood friendship morphed into adulthood professionalism, and they were still friends, of course they were friends, except now with a wall of formality between them because Gon was the King, and Yeong wasn’t.

There had to have been a moment when something shifted. When Yeong stopped calling him Gon, and started calling him ‘Your Majesty.’

Had Yeong had a moment of peace, of vulnerability, since then?

And, perhaps a better question, what had shifted back again now?

“You’re thinking,” Yeong murmured, reaching down to Gon’s hand and softly taking it in his hand. “What are you thinking about?”

“When did you stop calling me Gon?”

The question hung in the air between them, catching in the silence as Yeong’s breath caught in his throat, just for a split-second.

“I… don’t remember,” he admitted, a touch of sadness tainting his previously carefree voice. “I think – I think it was when we were kids. Teenagers. The adults around me had been nagging for years, and I guess it finally got too much, and I started to think they were right. That we were getting too close, for a king and his servant, and more than anything else I needed to remind myself of my place.”

Gon glanced down at Yeong’s face. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he was holding back, and just the thought that Yeong felt he had to hold anything back from Gon was enough to break his heart.

‘Too close’ his ass. Now they weren’t close enough.

“Your place is by my side,” Gon said, squeezing the hand that Yeong had put in his, “not beneath me. We’ve met all these people in the Republic, and they all use my name, but really, you’re the most deserving of all of them. If there’s anyone in any world that should call me Gon, it’s you.”

“But Your Majesty –” Gon put a finger to Yeong’s lips, quieting him immediately.

“But Gon. Please.”

“But –” Yeong hesitated, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before saying, “but Gon. Isn’t it improper? It might be fine to you, but what will everyone else think? As the Captain of the Royal Guard, I can’t have people thinking I’m not respecting you, not following all the proper rules and etiquette, or there’s a good chance I’ll lose my position. You’re the King, you’re irreplaceable. I’m not.”

“Well, there’s a simple solution to that.” Yeong craned his neck to look up at him, and Gon adjusted his position so Yeong could look at him properly. “I won’t let them. They want to follow proper etiquette? They’ll have to listen to me, and when I say that I want you to use my name and that I won’t let them fire you because of it, they’ll have to let it slide.”

Yeong laughed to himself, hanging his head down before looking at Gon incredulously and saying, “You really are a tyrant, you know that? Abusing your power on those poor people just trying to do what they think is best.”

It looked like Yeong was feeling comfortable again. That brought a smile to Gon’s face.

“What’s the point of being a king if I can’t flex my status every once in a while?”

“You should be dethroned.”

“And who would they replace me with? My Uncle Jongin? We killed his son, remember? When he dies there won’t be any heirs left, so they’d have to take me back.”

“Oh my God, Gon, that’s horrible!” Yeong playfully smacked his arm, but in that moment Gon realised just how right he was.

They’d killed Seungheon, before he’d managed to have any children. The only surviving members of the Corean Royal Family were his uncle and himself, and his uncle was way past child-fathering age.

There were no more heirs. If he failed, if he didn’t get himself a queen, if he didn’t produce an heir, then the Royal Family would die out with him.

That would be his legacy. The King that ended the Lee family’s reign, after only three generations.

A failure. A huge, royal fuck-up. In all the history books: Lee Gon the shameful, Lee Gon who couldn’t put his country first, Lee Gon the sorry excuse for a king.

“Gon?”

Yeong’s voice cut through his thoughts, grounding him back to reality. He should have asked Yeong to use his name years ago – the sound of it in his charming, deep voice was impossible to ignore, impossible to resist not giving it a hundred percent of his attention.

“Gon?” Yeong said again, gently running his thumb across Gon’s arm, caressing the prickled skin there. “Are you ok? I’m sorry if it’s what I said, I –”

“No, you didn’t say anything wrong. It’s… it’s fine. Just remembering a job I need to attend to, that’s all. But it’s not exactly something I can fix right now, is it?” He could feel the fake smile plastering itself to his face, and he hated it, but after so many years in the spotlight it was a reaction he couldn’t control.

“Gon.” There was Yeong again, cutting his way into Gon’s thoughts, drawing every ounce of his attention. He crawled towards him, over him, entering Gon’s personal space in a way that only Jo Yeong could get away with, resting his hand on the headboard just to the side of Gon’s head.

“Talk to me,” he said, lips pursed in a steely, concerned determination. “I know it’s not just a job, I can tell when you make that face. It’s going to take more effort than that to lie to me.”

Oh, Yeong. Smart, perceptive, caring Jo Yeong. You wouldn’t want to be burdened with the gravity of the problem Gon faced, all the facets, technicalities, and doubts that were running endless laps round Gon’s mind.

How could he explain? Where would he even start?

How could he cover everything, when he struggled to admit parts of the problem to himself?

How could he tell Yeong, when Yeong was one of the complications?

“Yeong-ah, I –” he started, biting his lip and shutting his eyes, not wanting to meet Yeong’s while he was struggling to grasp for words.

A delicate, hesitant touch graced Gon’s cheek. His eyes flew open, and Yeong quickly withdrew his hand, tucking it into his chest as if to hide it away, to smother any evidence that it was ever there.

Yeong looked scared. Wasn’t that what Taeeul had said, that he seemed scared?

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he whispered, and then corrected, “Gon. I know that was too much. Too far.”

No, no! He wasn’t going to let Yeong worry about propriety ever again!

With a newfound determination, Gon reached forward and wrapped his hand around Yeong’s that was hidden in his chest, gently guiding it out and up onto his cheek again, this time more firm, more sure than before. Keeping Yeong’s hand there, he leaned into the touch, enjoying the shudder of wrongness it sent down his spine.

“Your Majesty, I – is this a bad time?”

Yeong whipped his head around to face the door, pulling his hand out of Gon’s grip and practically jumping off Gon’s lap onto his side of the bed, yanking the covers up to cover his body all the way up to his eyes, which were tentatively peeking at Head Court Lady Noh standing in the doorway.

He could still feel the phantom touch of Yeong’s hand against his cheek. The sudden lack of feeling was more painful than any unwanted touch had ever been.

“Continue,” Gon said, unable to keep himself from looking down at Yeong every couple of seconds. He was breathing heavily, quickly, and trembling slightly, but apart from that he was frozen in place, gaze fixed on Lady Noh.

“Well, I actually came to ask you if you knew where Yeong was because he wasn’t seen going into his apartment last night, after he took you to your room. Now, I guess I know why.”

“Yes, because I wanted him here. Is that all?” He hoped Lady Noh would go away, prayed she would go away so Yeong could relax again.

It was typical, really. Just as they were getting somewhere, just as they were really having a moment, she had to come in and ruin it all.

“No.” Oh, God. Oh, fuck, fuck, no! If she was about to suggest, about to make a comment –

It would all be ruined. Everything he’d just built up with Yeong would crumble to the ground.

“I was looking for Captain Jo,” she continued, “because his family is on their way. Apparently he hasn’t been answering his phone, so they’re coming to visit him in person to make sure he’s ok, after his injury.”

“When will they arrive?” Please say this afternoon, or this evening, or even just in a few hours! Give them time!

“Around fifteen minutes. So, if Yeong is finished hiding from the world,” – Yeong slowly shuffled up from underneath the duvet, keeping his gaze down to avoid Lady Noh’s – “I suggest he puts some clothes on, and makes himself presentable.”

“Do you want to borrow mine again?” Gon asked, keeping his voice low so as not to unsettle Yeong any more than he already was.

Yeong shook his head. “I have clothes in my apartment, I shouldn’t keep using yours.”

“Ok,” Gon sighed, reluctant to press any further. “At least wear my dressing gown though, so you’re not completely naked going over there.”

When Yeong looked unconvinced, he followed up with, “That’s an order. You’ll freeze to death otherwise.”

Without saying another word, Yeong got up, grabbed the dressing gown, and left, trying to hurry in a way that didn’t make it look like he was trying to hurry. Just as he was about to leave the room, he turned back to look at Gon, before looking down, lightly shaking his head, and leaving Gon alone with the Head Court Lady.

The bed suddenly felt lonely, without Yeong in it.

Lady Noh gave him a look that said she knew.

“Your Majesty –” she began, stepping further forward into the room.

“Don’t.” Gon closed his eyes and sighed. “I know what you’re going to say. Don’t say it.”

“I –”

“I know, ok? ‘Oh Your Majesty, whatever would a potential queen say if she saw you in bed with Yeong like that? You’re never going to find a woman that will marry you if they all think you’re fucking your best friend.’” He turned away as best he could in his position on the bed, crossing his arms and scowling at the wall.

He hoped Lady Noh would read his body language, get the hint, and leave.

She didn’t. She came and sat next to him instead.

They sat in silence for a while, before she said, “That’s not actually what I was going to say, Your Majesty.”

“Then what.”

“I was going to say that I meant what I said before, that there are other options available. If you’ve decided to change your mind, that a queen isn’t what you’re looking for, then –”

“I can’t do that,” he sounded out, slowly, surely, willing Lady Noh to just shut up, “there are no other options for me.”

“Your Majesty, I just don’t want you to do something you’ll be unhappy with.” She tried to rest a comforting hand on his arm, but he brushed it off, holding the tainted area to his chest and looking at the Head Court Lady with disgust.

“Head Court Lady,” he asserted, enunciating the sounds to try and sound as big and imposing and important as he could while wrapped in a duvet, “I will be unhappy if I don’t give my people what they want, what they deserve from me. I will be unhappy if I don’t produce a legitimate heir, I will be unhappy if my family’s reign ends with me because of my incompetence! My people have already had to deal with a literal child running their country, so the least I could do is try to do everything else by the book, try to make the rest of my reign as uneventful as possible so they can live the rest of their lives without worrying about the useless prick that got stuck on the throne.”

“You’re not useless, Your Majesty.” Her voice softened. Maybe she was trying to be comforting, but how could he be comforted when the words of comfort were a lie?

“Aren’t I?”Gon prayed the quiver in his voice was unnoticeable.” You said it yourself, thirty-four years old and not a whiff of a girlfriend! All the British royals my age are married off and making babies already, and they’ve got someone fifth in line to the throne! Fifth! And a whole family of spares! We have a first in line who I’m almost definitely going to outlive, and then what? I can’t have legitimate kids if I marry a man, not in the way that tradition would recognise, so if I don’t get my act together soon, the Lee reign will be over and that will be all my fault. After only three generations I will singlehandedly topple everything my grandfather and my father built, that they expected me to continue.”

In a way, he was almost glad they were dead, that he’d never known his grandfather and he’d hardly known his dad. At least if they were dead, they couldn’t see the disappointment he’d become.

“Your Majesty.” Lady Noh hesitated, glancing at Gon with concern before she continued. “From the way you’re talking, it sounds like this is a duty, rather than something you actually want to do. Your father loved your mother, your grandfather loved your grandmother – they wanted to get married, they wanted to have children, because they loved each other. Why shouldn’t it be the same for you?”

“You know why. Don’t make me say it.”

“And that’s why –”

“No! Look, I found a girl, ok? I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation because I told you before, I have Taeeul! I even have proof she exists now, let me just –” he reached for his phone on the bedside table and showed Lady Noh one of the pictures they took yesterday when they were all eating dinner together, pointing out Taeeul sitting next to him.

“That’s her?” Lady Noh remarked, leaning forward and peering at the phone to get a better view. “Are you sure, Your Majesty?”

“Look, I know she’s not necessarily what the court would choose, but I promise she’d make an amazing queen.” If she said yes. She would say yes. She had to say yes eventually, that was what being in a relationship with Gon meant! Eventually, she would have to take on her role as Queen, because otherwise…

No. No. She would.

“Your Majesty, don’t you think it looks like she would rather be with that guy instead?” Lady Noh pointed to Shinjae, whom Taeeul had wrapped her arms around in this photo, gently leaning on his shoulder.

Maybe this wasn’t the best picture to show.

Gon quickly took hold of the phone, frantically swiping through to find one where she wasn’t with her best friend, but after they saw coma-Shinjae in the care centre, she had naturally been doting on him for the rest of the day.

Seeing that sort of thing was traumatic! He wasn’t going to deny her the opportunity to put Shinjae first, or he’d be a massive hypocrite after keeping her waiting just so that he could prioritise Yeong. It was what you did for your best friend.

“You don’t need to worry,” he told Lady Noh, deciding not to try and show her any of the other pictures, “Taeeul is definitely in love with me. Her and that guy, their relationship is just like mine and Yeong’s.”

Lady Noh took a deep breath, looked Gon straight in the eye, and said, “I don’t think that’s the strong argument you think it is, Your Majesty.”

“Wha – oh my God Head Court Lady Noh, she is not secretly in love with Shinjae!”

“So she’s not sleeping with him in her bed, and doing very questionable-looking things with him in the morning with no clothes on? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re not wearing your pyjamas this morning – my eyesight may be going but I’m certainly not blind.”

“I’m not wearing pyjamas because I was too tired last night to go and get them. That’s all. And Yeong and I certainly weren’t doing anything ‘questionable,’ as you put it. He’s straight, for God’s sake, and I literally have a girlfriend.”

“Is he? Do you know that for sure?”

“He’s thirty years old. I think at this point, he would have told me if he wasn’t. And anyway, when I said I was going to set him up with Seungah he agreed, so surely that means he likes women.”

Jesus Christ, was this an interrogation or something? These questions were way too personal! And anyway, if she wanted to go and hound Yeong about his love life, couldn’t she ask him instead? How was Gon meant to know the intricacies of Yeong’s sexual preferences?

It wasn’t like it was something either of them had ever brought up. Yeong had always been pretty private about that sort of thing, tending to brush Gon off whenever he asked, and Gon?

It was only Lady Noh that seemed to care. Gon didn’t even care, because it didn’t matter, not when his romantic future had been decided for him the moment he’d arrived in the world.

“He could be bisexual, you know,” Lady Noh mused, still, apparently, caring, “he could still like women then. And as for him not saying anything… you’re not really one to talk, Your Majesty.”

“I’m going to marry a woman. I don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Of course,” she sighed, rolling her eyes as if Gon wouldn’t notice, “you’ve made that very clear. I’m just saying don’t write him off completely. You might be surprised.”

“Head Court Lady, do you know something I don’t?” Gon asked, not really knowing if he wanted to know the answer.

Yeong was straight. He knew that. He didn’t have to think twice about how he felt about Yeong if Yeong was straight.

“I’m not saying I know anything for definite,” she said, holding her hands up in defeat, “but I must say I haven’t been without my suspicions. However, you’ve spent more time with him than I have, so you’d probably know better than me.”

“I do. He’s straight.” That came out far more abrupt than he’d intended.

“Alright.” Lady Noh got up, brushing the creases out of her hanbok, looking like she was finally, finally going to leave, before turning to Gon and telling him, “You should probably get dressed soon, Your Majesty. You have a speech to deliver to some schoolchildren today, and I don’t think they’d appreciate it if you were late to that.”

“Ok.” Thank God. Thank God this was over.

“And Your Majesty,” – fuck, never mind – “all this Queen stuff, it’ll all work out ok. I trust you to make the right decision.”

“Thank you, Head Court Lady,” he said, forcing a smile, “I will indeed marry Taeeul, and make lots of beautiful babies.”

Lady Noh shook her head, and just said, “Get dressed, Your Majesty,” before leaving the room.

Gon rubbed his eyes and sighed, flopping backwards onto his bed, not having the energy to get up like Lady Noh had asked.

Honestly? Fuck her. For the first time in his life he’d found a woman he was sure about, and she had to pick this time to come and start sprinkling all these doubts into his head!

No. He was in love with Taeeul. Taeeul loved him back.

He was in love with Taeeul, and he was attracted to Taeeul.

He was in love with Taeeul.

Yeong was straight. Yeong was going on a date with Seungah, and he would love her just as Eunseob loved Nari.

Yeong was straight, and it wouldn’t have crossed his mind that when Lady Noh came in, it looked like they both might not have been.

Yeong was straight.

Gon was in love with Taeeul, and Taeeul loved him back, and Yeong was going to love Seungah because Yeong was straight.

And it wouldn’t have occurred to him that Gon might not be.

***

Yeong didn’t think he was going to make it back to his apartment.

Not after… everything.

What the hell had possessed him in there? Just because Gon was holding him close in his bed, just because Gon had let him say his name – which by the way, what the fuck – that did not give Yeong the right to climb over him, to caress his fucking face!

He was meant to be getting over Gon. That’s what he had agreed with Eunseob and Shinjae, that’s what he had promised himself he was going to do, so what the fucking hell was all that?

If Lady Noh didn’t fire him after that performance, then her walking in was a blessing in disguise. If she hadn’t interrupted, then who knows how far he could have gone with that little burst of overconfidence?

It wasn’t like Gon was doing his best to remind Yeong about the nature of their relationship either. Seriously, if Yeong didn’t know any better, he’d say that from the way Gon was acting, he was practically encouraging it, all ‘Oh Yeong-ah, let me just hold your bare hand against my face so I can lean into it and look like I’m fucking getting off on it.’

He wasn’t, though, and Yeong knew that. He was straight, he was in love with Taeeul, and he wouldn’t have thought twice about the stupid, reckless way Yeong was acting.

That was the thought that kept Yeong going as he rushed back to his apartment as fast as his healing chest would let him. Gon wouldn’t have noticed. If he’d been oblivious this long, he wouldn’t have started to notice now. He thought Yeong was straight, and it wouldn’t have occurred to him that maybe he wasn’t, that maybe it wasn’t Seungah that Yeong was after, but him.

When he reached his apartment, it suddenly dawned on him that his family had never come to visit him before. Thinking about it… no one had. Maybe that should have been a sad thought, but in truth it just gave Yeong the freedom to decorate his place however he wanted, without anyone coming in and seeing it.

For example, he had the freedom to display the ‘Sexy Lee Gon’ calendar that Seungah had bought him as a joke. He had the freedom to display his collection of queer literature, which he’d taken to reading to help himself feel less alone. He had the freedom to display the pride flag he’d bought in a moment of bravery, when they were visiting the USA and Gon had left him to his own devices for a day.

With his parents coming, all that gay shit had to go. The last thing he wanted was their inevitable screaming match to be about their son’s sexual preferences.

How long did Lady Noh say he had? Fifteen minutes?

With the embarrassing amount of time it had taken him to run over here, it now had to be more like five.

He looked at the clock. 9:56AM. He probably had until ten.

Ok then, four minutes. Unless they were early.

Yeong prayed they were running late instead as he quickly threw on a jumper and some jeans, tossing Gon’s dressing gown onto his bed, and then set to work throwing anything that gave off even a hint of homosexuality into a cupboard.

Paris is Burning DVD? Into the cupboard.

Holland album? Into the cupboard.

Stiletto heels he bought after watching videos of those guys that can dance in them? Very back of the cupboard.

He had only just finished emptying his collection of male idol photocards into the cupboard when he heard a knock on his door. Slamming the cupboard door shut, he ran a trembling hand through his hair to try and make it look a little bit presentable, and opened the door, putting on a smile that he hoped didn’t look too pained.

Four faces greeted him on his doorstep. His mother, his father, and –

“Eun-bi and Kka-bi?” Yeong exclaimed, taking a step back and resting his hand on the wall for support.

What. The fuck. Were they doing here?

How did they get over to Corea? Yeong was sure it was only him and Gon that had travelled back through the portal. Eunseob’s sibling’s weren’t even in Seoul when they visited, they were back in Busan with their parents!

How were they at his door? How was this situation even possible?

And why the hell weren’t his parents freaking out about the two random kids that were standing in front of them?

“Mum, I think Yeongie’s gone insane,” Kka-bi said, side-eyeing Yeong with concern, “is that possible from a chest wound?”

“Jo Kangmin,” his mother scolded, “don’t say such things about your brother. He was very badly hurt, he’s probably still in shock.”

Jo Kangmin. Kka-bi. Which meant that Jo Haeun was probably Eun-bi. Not Eun-bi and Kka-bi from Eunseob’s world. His own Eun-bi and Kka-bi.

He had siblings.

Jesus Christ, dealing with Eunseob’s Eun-bi and Kka-bi was bad enough, and he got to give those two back when Eunseob came back from impersonating him in the Kingdom. He was stuck with these two, two actual siblings that he apparently had that he knew nothing about.

Yeong before the reset would have known who they were. He would have been involved in their lives from before they were born, creating a beautiful bond like Eunseob had with his siblings.

They would have inside jokes, little secrets, things he would be expected to know, except he didn’t fucking know them because he had never seen these two before in his life!

Oh God, was he expected to look after them sometimes, like Eunseob was? Would he have a couple of little devils running around this place, probably running around the palace too, while he was trying to do his job, or have some time to himself, or cry over Seungah’s fanfics with a pot of ice-cream?

How the hell did pre-reset him cope?

He greeted his family in a daze, saying the usual hellos and how-have-you-beens to his parents, and trying his best to look like he knew his brother and sister, and they weren’t complete strangers invading his home.

His parents sat down next to each other on his sofa, his mother leaning into his father’s side, gently holding each others’ hands and looking at his new twin siblings with warm, parental pride as they ran around his front room.

That… that was not something Yeong had ever seen before. His parents getting along? Sitting next to each other? Holding hands?

Where was the shouting? The arguing? The seething hatred?

That was not the father who had told him to never trust a woman, because they would entice you in, lock you into a relationship with a wedding and a child, and then proceed to make the rest of your life a living hell.

That was not the mother who had given Yeong lecture after lecture about how his father was trash, and how she hoped Yeong would never end up like ‘that dumpster fire of a man, who wouldn’t recognise human decency if it hit him on the head.’

It was unsettling. In the long run, it was probably a good thing that they didn’t hate each other, that Eun-bi and Kka-bi had a loving home, but it was still definitely unsettling.

They had been about to get divorced when Gon’s father was killed, just before they had reset the timeline. That meant in 1994, in this timeline, their relationship was still in shambles.

What the hell had happened? How did those two people that couldn’t stand to be around each other twenty-six years ago suddenly make up, and then decide to have more children?

Were the twins an accident? Considering how young his parents were when they had him, Yeong was certain he was, but is that what had happened again? Except this time with a better outcome, where they’d actually succeeded in making a happy family instead of one that was falling apart at the seams?

Well, congratulations mum and dad! Second time’s the charm, eh?

Lucky little shits.

“Let me guess,” Yeong said, sitting down on the armchair next to where his parents were sitting, “I’m going to get a lecture about how I should have answered my phone, because you’re my parents and you needed to make sure I’m ok. As you can see now, I’m ok. Not dying. Nothing to worry about.”

“Yeong,” his mum began, reaching out her hand to hold Yeong’s. He pulled it away. “We heard you were alright on the news. And as much as your father and I wish you had reached out in person, we get it. You must have been inundated with messages, probably even just from your siblings alone, and that’s a lot to process when you’ve just woken up after getting hurt.”

“We just thought it might be nice for you to see some familiar faces, amongst all the doctors and palace staff,” his dad added, offering a warm smile.

Sorry, what? Mr. and Mrs. Jo Wonshik, actually giving a crap about Yeong’s wellbeing?

These were not his parents. These were people from one of the other worlds who had come over and started imitating his parents, except they hadn’t done their research on what the people they were imitating were actually supposed to be like.

They were kidding themselves if they thought a bit of kindness now was going to make up for the pile of steaming horse shit that was his formative years. Maybe they had been better parents to pre-reset Yeong, he didn’t know, but they weren’t dealing with that guy now. They were dealing with him.

“Well, I’ve seen you,” Yeong said, hoping his parents would pick up on the sharp edge in his voice, “and if that was the case, you didn’t need to bother. I’ve spent the past couple of days outside the palace, meeting with friends, so I’ve already seen some ‘familiar faces.’”

“You’ve been meeting with friends?” his mum asked, clearly taken aback. “Do we know them?”

‘Stop fucking pretending,’ Yeong wanted to say, ‘stop fucking pretending you care what I’m doing with my life.’

But he didn’t, because maybe a part of him saw she was trying. And maybe this was just how she was, in the new timeline.

“No,” he answered, “you wouldn’t know them. They don’t live near here.”

“So you went on a long journey to see them? In your condition? Oh Yeong, you really are a martyr –” she got up, and Yeong thought maybe she’d decided to help him out by fucking leaving, before she said, “ – let me look after you. Where’s the kitchen in this place? I’m going to make you something. Wonnie, could you get him a blanket or something? Don’t you get up and get it yourself, Yeong, we’re looking after you today.”

Wonnie? Yeong was going to puke. He almost preferred ‘heartless bastard.’

His dad disappeared into his bedroom for a second before coming back with the blanket that was resting on the edge of his bed, tucking it around Yeong as if he was a little kid. Or, considering who it was that was doing the tucking, maybe not. This was probably the first time Jo Wonshik had ever done any real hands-on parenting with his eldest son.

Apparently the days of ‘don’t be a wuss, Yeong, it’s unmanly to complain about being a bit cold’ were over. Good to know.

To this day, Yeong was convinced he had turned the thermostat down that winter, just to prolong Yeong’s suffering to train him not to complain again. Seriously. He was only five.

Needless to say, he preferred staying with his mum that year. At least she didn’t make him freeze.

Yeong and his dad sat in silence. That was fine. His dad had never been the talkative type, and Yeong didn’t want to talk, anyway. He was happy just to listen to Haeun and Kangmin’s peals of laughter echoing in from the other side of the apartment, reminding him of what he could have had.

Just their existence was proof that his parents’ newfound kindness towards him was nothing more than a sham. At least in his timeline, they’d had the decency to stay apart, so even if Yeong hadn’t had the most idyllic of childhoods, he knew that with his lot in life, he wouldn’t have had anything better. In this timeline, the fact that they’d managed to work things out, to start again and have other children, meant that they’d always had that potential, deep down inside them. They’d always had the potential to make a loving home, always had the potential to have children that grew up being able to laugh as they played, without being told to ‘shut up, mummy has a hangover right now, and she doesn’t appreciate little children making lots of noise.’

Maybe it wasn’t even that knowledge that was the worst thing. Maybe it was the fact that they’d chosen to start over, twenty-odd years later, when they could brush their old mistakes under the rug because Yeong was already an adult, and had been out of the picture for years. Maybe it was the fact that the child they’d already had evidently wasn’t good enough, so they felt they needed to replace him with a younger, better model.

He was the youngest ever Captain of the Royal Guard, for God’s sake! He had been training for that position basically his whole life, and was now the actual King’s right hand man, his Unbreakable Sword! Any other parents would be happy with that, but apparently not Jo Wonshik and Yoo Iseul! No, they felt it was necessary to have another go, see if they got anything better, and create a new family unit without their past mistake in it.

Well, fine. Good for them. Yeong didn’t want anything to do with it anyway.

“They’re getting big, aren’t they,” his father mused, looking though the doorway at the twins. At his new family.

“Yeah, I guess.” What did Yeong know? He’d only just met them.

“Someday they might even catch you up.” His dad smiled at him. He scowled in response.

“Probably. By the time they’re my age, I’ll be old and decrepit and shrinking.”

Twenty-two years. That was the age difference between him and his siblings, something Eunseob had told him about himself and Eun-bi and Kka-bi.

When the twins were thirty, he’d be fifty-two.

Even now, his parents were only forty-eight.

How fucking weird, to be closer in age to your parents than your siblings. Aside from Eunseob, who didn’t really count, he didn’t know of anyone else with a family like that.

His dad laughed, apparently not finding it weird at all, “Yeah, you might well be. You’ll be an old man with the rest of us.”

“Thanks a lot,” Yeong groaned, angling his body so it was facing more towards the wall, instead of the sofa.

Blissful silence fell for a little while longer, before his dad decided to try the small talk again with the question that Yeong had been dreading.

“Any sign of a girlfriend, then?”

“No,” he replied, without bothering to move to make eye contact, “no girlfriend. You and mum put me off.”

Maybe that’s what certain psychologists would say. Fucked up family? Ah, a gay kid is inevitable.

“Yeong,” his dad sighed, with a hint of – was that regret? Uncompromising Jo Wonshik, feeling regret? “I know your mother and I had our… differences, when you were young, but please don’t let our bad example scare you away from finding happiness. I mean, we managed it, in the end! If there’s hope for us, I’d say there’s hope for anyone.”

“It’s not because of you. I just don’t want a girlfriend.”

“Are you sure? It might help bring a smile to your face –”

“Can you just drop it?” Yeong snapped, finally turning round to face his father, if only to give him the evil eye. “I already get enough of this from Hi – from Gon!”

Yeong ignored the way he could hear his heart thundering in his chest as he used Gon’s name in front of his ex-Royal Guard father. Gon had told him he should, and who was he to refuse an order from his King?

Bonus points if it made his dad squirm.

“Jo Yeong.” Yes, that was it. Scold him, shout at him, show your true colours, Jo Wonshik! “Who gave you the right to use His Majesty’s name?”

“He did.” Yeong was smiling, a broad, smug smile that was the first time his mouth had made a shape that wasn’t some kind of a frown during this whole visit.

“Oh, I see.” Was that it? Was that fucking it? “You two must really be close.”

Oh come on! Stop being ok with your son’s co-dependent friendship with the King of Corea – start fucking screaming at him like it’s 1997, and you just saw him hug the King goodbye!

Stop being so nice about everything all of a sudden, stop making Yeong feel like he was the asshole for holding a grudge!

“I guess we are,” Yeong said, trying to sound as calm as possible to mask his growing frustration.

He wondered if his dad would have snapped if he had seen them together in Gon’s bed that morning. They had certainly been close then.

“Wonnie!” his mum called from the kitchen, graciously sparing Yeong from the remainder of this conversation, “Can you come and give me a hand? I need someone to come and watch the sauce.”

“Well,” his dad said, his face lighting up in a warm smile, “duty calls!” Throwing a look to Yeong that Yeong thought was meant to be ‘knowing,’ he got up and went over to the kitchen, ruffling Yeong’s hair as he went past.

Thank fuck. Finally some goddamn peace.

Yeong closed his eyes and sank back in his chair, letting the sounds of his usually-quiet apartment wash over him.

His parents laughing together in the kitchen. The bubbling of the sauce they were apparently making.

His siblings giggling from somewhere behind him, whispering to each other things like “Go on, ask him,” and “No, you ask him!”

Oh God. Ask who? Ask what?

“Yeongie?” Eun-bi – no, Haeun asked him, timidly tapping him on the shoulder, glancing back at her sniggering twin brother as Yeong cracked open an eye.

“What.” This was his life now. Dealing with small children. This was his life now, and he was in Hell.

“We, um, we wanted to ask…” she looked towards Kangmin again, mouthing ‘really?’

“Go on,” he heard Kangmin whisper, and Haeun turned to him with newfound confidence.

“Did you and His Majesty sleep together last night?”

Yeong choked on his breath. What the actual fuck –

“What,” he stuttered, laughing nervously, “what makes you say that?”

How do you even know what sleeping together is, was the better question. You’re eight years old!

“Well, we know you like him” – oh, fucking hell – “and we found his dressing gown in your bedroom.”

“So did you?” Kangmin asked, joining his sister with a massive grin on his face. “Did you and His Majesty get it on?”

Two more people. Two more people knew, and he didn’t even remember telling them.

Two more people knew, and those people were eight years old. What on earth was pre-reset him thinking? They couldn’t understand the gravity of the situation, how important it was that his sexuality and his feelings stayed a secret!

He was up to six people now. Seungah, Shinjae, Eunseob, Nari, and now Haeun and Kangmin. That was more people than he could count on one hand. For some reason, that was petrifying.

“Haeun. Kangmin. I want you to listen very closely to me.” He hoped they would listen, prayed they would listen. “Let’s pretend that because of my accident, my memory is a bit fuzzy. What, exactly, did I tell you about me and Gon?”

“Ooooh, he lets you call him Gon,” Kangmin sang in a mocking tone, and it took all of Yeong’s effort not to throw hands with an eight year old.

“This is serious. What did I tell you?”

“Yeongie, you’ve been telling us this stuff since forever,” Haeun whined, folding her arms, “all about how you love him, and want him to notice you, but also how we ‘can’t tell anyone,’ or we’ll ‘never see the light of day again.’ You’re very violent.”

“But can we tell people now he’s your boyfriend?” Kangmin drawled, giving the word ‘boyfriend’ about five more syllables than it really needed. “I wanna tell all my friends about how my brother’s gonna marry the King!”

“Kangmin. He’s not my boyfriend. We didn’t do anything last night, or on any other night. He just lent me his dressing gown, so I wouldn’t get cold.”

“Oh, how romantic!” Kangmin fanned himself, and pretended to faint, falling into his sister’s open arms.

“No, no. Not romantic. Just friendly. Nothing more.” This was worse than Shinjae. At least he was trying to insinuate something between him and Gon for a reason – the twins were just being annoying fucking brats.

“Hm. Suit yourself,” Kangmin said, eyeing his sister in a way that said ‘yeah, right.’

Yeah, right! There really was nothing between them!

When the twins went off to play again, Yeong felt his entire soul breathe a sigh of relief.

Finally. Time to really, truly be alone.

He checked his phone – a reflex reaction, to always be checking for updates on Gon.

Of course, there weren’t any, as Sub-Captain Seok was still getting all his schedules. However, although there weren’t updates about Gon, there were updates from Gon.

Yeong smiled to himself as he changed Gon’s contact name from “His Majesty” to his actual name. It would be nice to read his messages as if they were coming from an actual person.

CHAT: You and Gon <3

Gon <3:

How’re you holding up with ‘heartless bastard’ and ‘manipulative bitch?’

Gon <3:

Let me guess how long it took for the screaming to start

Gon <3:

Five minutes? Ten?

Gon <3:

I don’t envy you at all – you’re the one person I know who actually makes me feel lucky about being an orphan

Yeong laughed to himself. He could just imagine Gon sitting in the back of an official vehicle on the way to some event, texting Yeong in secret like they were teenagers.

CHAT: You and Gon <3:

You:

It never happened. The reset messed with them, and now they’re in love

You:

It’s gross. I think I preferred it when they hated each other

You:

That’s not all though. You know how Eunseob has Eun-bi and Kka-bi? Guess who now has siblings.

Gon <3:

oh. my. god.

Gon <3:

What have we done?

You:

Aren’t you meant to be doing official king business?

Gon <3:

That’s not until later, and now I’m WAY more interested in this

Gon <3:

What are they like? What’s it like not being an only child anymore?

You:

They’re assholes, and I hate it.

Gon <3:

Ha! Sucks to be you

Gon <3:

Wow, though. Jo Yeong, the older brother. What a concept

Gon <3:

When you have to look after them, can you take them to visit me? I want to meet them

Gon <3:

Tell them all your embarrassing secrets >:)

You:

Apparently they already know some. Turns out me in the previous timeline had a bit of a loose mouth

Gon <3:

Oh, wow. That doesn’t sound like my Yeong

Gon <3:

Crap, gotta go, Lady Noh’s come to accost me again

Gon <3:

Byee!!! Enjoy your family time, with your new siblings and functional parents :D

‘My Yeong.’

Yeong clutched his phone to his chest, and was so incredibly grateful that no one was around to see the smile that spread across his face.

Chapter Text

“Yeong-ah, no. Go back home.”

Gon folded his arms and stared at Yeong; not so intensely it was a glare, but enough to tell him he did not approve of Yeong’s actions.

Well tough shit, Your Royal Majesty. The Unbreakable Sword himself was not going to back down so easily.

“Why? Why can’t I come with you? I came with you on our –” Yeong looked to Sub-Captain Seok, who was standing beside Gon, and changed his words to “– journey, literally the day I woke up.”

“And that’s exactly why you shouldn’t come! It was reckless of me to take you, and you need to rest! Didn’t the doctor say you should really be on bed rest for at least a week?”

“It has been a week! Well, since I was hurt, anyway, and I mean the first day or so was definitely bed rest… considering I didn’t wake up at all… but that’s still a week!” Yeong put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows at Gon, hoping to crack his stony exterior even just a little bit.

It didn’t work. Gon was unyielding.

“Yeong-ah,” he sighed, “look, as much as I love seeing you back in uniform again, and as much as I love seeing your enthusiasm to get back to work, I can’t let you do this. Go. Home.”

“What will you do if I don’t?”

Gon smiled sweetly. “I’ll have you beheaded of course.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t dare,” Yeong laughed, actively trying to perform a deep laugh that used all his chest to prove he was ok, while also trying to pretend that didn’t hurt like a bitch, “you need me. Who else is going to be willing to let you ramble on about the latest advances on the Riemann Hypothesis, or the Collatz Conjecture, or any of that stuff?”

“I think the real question is who wouldn’t be interested in recent mathematical breakthroughs?” Gon smirked, as if that was in any way a valid point.

Yeong rolled his eyes. God, he loved this man. So much. So goddamn much. Even if he was a massive nerd.

Perhaps because he was a massive nerd. Yeong couldn’t pretend he wouldn’t listen to Gon talk for hours about the importance of prime numbers, just to see the sparkle in his eyes as he immersed himself in something he was passionate about. With his busy schedule, moments like that were few and far between, but when they happened, Yeong felt like he was the most blessed man alive.

Not, of course, that he was going to let Gon know that.

“I think the real question is who would?” He hesitated, considering whether to say what he was going to say next, but fuck it, what could possibly go wrong? “Taeeul’s a liberal arts person, right? I seriously doubt she’d be willing to listen.”

Gon’s face fell, just for a split-second, but for long enough that Yeong could pick up on it. He also noticed Gon start to pick at the end of his sleeve, in a movement so subtle you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it, as he said, “Well that’s why I have you, too.”

“Exactly.” Oh, he had won this round. “You need me.”

“Fine,” Gon admitted, holding up his hands in defeat, “I need you. And that’s why I need you to stay at home, because I can’t have you running around protecting me and hurting yourself even more in the process.”

“But Gon –” Sub-Captain Seok looked at him like he was offended on Gon’s behalf, and Yeong offered him an awkward smile of ‘I’ll explain later,’ as he continued “– staying at home, doing nothing, it’s driving me insane!”

“You’ve been at home for two days. Didn’t you always say you wanted a holiday?”

“I take it all back. The thought of a holiday is terrifying. Don’t ever let me take a holiday.”

“Yeong-ah,” Gon tutted, taking Yeong’s hands in his own and looking him straight in the eyes, “not being able to relax, that can be a sign of something serious, you know. Do you need to see someone?”

Was he kidding? Of course he needed to see someone, but what would it look like if the strong, macho, unbreakable Captain of the Royal Guard was seeing a therapist? Or worse, if he was diagnosed with something? The calls for his removal would make whatever unresolved trauma he was dealing with far worse, not better.

Besides. He had been coping well enough for thirty years. He could definitely go on a bit longer.

“You first,” he said back, holding Gon’s gaze. “I’d argue your shit is worse than mine.”

“Please,” Gon scoffed, “my ‘shit’ is one thing, twenty-six years ago.”

“And yet you still can’t watch The Lion King.”

Gon’s gaze darkened. “Come on Yeong. You know it hits too close to home.”

“Are… are you two ok?” Sub-Captain Seok asked, shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he butted into their conversation.

“We’re fine,” Gon said, smiling at the Sub-Captain.

“Just fine,” Yeong agreed, nodding his head solemnly. “In fact, Sub-Captain, I’d say you’re not needed here anymore, because I’m going to be resuming my position now, thank you.”

“Excuse me, who are you to give him orders?” Gon asked, staring at Yeong with shock and outrage.

Yeong scoffed, “His boss.”

“Who is on sick leave! And I’m your boss, so I’m definitely his boss, and I say he stays.”

“Are you replacing me?” Yeong looked up at Gon quizzically, with the aim of pulling on his heartstrings enough that he’d just let Yeong back into his position.

Please. The last time he’d been away from Gon this long had been when Gon had left him in Korea, but at least then he’d had a job to occupy him and distract him from the fact that the one good thing he had taken with him into the other world was gone. In his apartment, he may have had his home comforts, he may have had Seungah’s fanfics, but he didn’t have Gon.

“No, Yeong-ah, I –” Gon’s gaze softened, and he brought his hand up to his chest as if he was about to make a move, but he looked over at Sub-Captain Seok and decided against it. “You know I would never do that.”

“So you –”

“No. Do I have to make this an official order?”

“Your Majesty!” Seungah poked her head through the door, carrying a stack of papers. “The Head Court Lady asked me to put these on your desk, is that ok?”

She winked at Yeong. Yeong was suddenly very concerned about what was on those papers.

“Yes, fine,” Gon waved his hand in dismissal, before his eyes widened in realisation, and his mouth widened into the most excited smile Yeong had ever seen.

“Myeong Seungah!” he called to her across the room, waving her over. “Do you know my amazing Captain of the Royal Guard, Jo Yeong?”

Oh no. Oh fuck no.

“Yeah, we’ve met a few times,” she said, lightly nodding her head in sweet, innocent ignorance.

Don’t do it Seungah! Don’t do it!

“He’s hot, right?” Gon pulled him close, and Yeong tried not to scream at how casually Gon just called him hot. “Sure, he’s a little short –”

“I’m taller than average height by like ten centimetres. You’re just a beanpole.”

“– but he’s super badass, honestly really takes my breath away, has very kissable lips, and though he hides it sometimes, I know he has a really soft heart under all this tough exterior.” Gon lightly poked Yeong’s face, and Yeong tried very hard not to die inside.

Seungah looked at Yeong, and then at Gon, and then at Yeong again, mouthing ‘are you..?’ with a massive grin on her face before gesturing with her head at Gon.

Yeong shook his head as subtly as he could manage.

No, no! Definitely not! Seungah, you got it all wrong!

“What’s this about, Your Majesty?” she asked with a smirk, not getting Yeong’s hint at all.

“How would you like to go on a date with him?”

“Your Majesty, I –” she faltered, trying incredibly hard to suppress a very obvious laugh.

“He really is a catch!” he said, then added, “And Lord knows he needs something to do.”

“Your Majesty, I really don’t think I’m Yeong’s type.” She covered her mouth, but it was doing nothing to mask the enjoyment she was clearly getting out of all of this.

Come on, Seungah! Gon was being serious about this, it was no laughing matter!

“Funny,” Gon mused, “Yeong said the same thing, but I think you guys just need to trust me on this and go for it. You’ll thank me when you’re married with ten kids.”

“Gon, please,” Yeong insisted, “it’s a bad idea.”

He had half a mind to just come out of the closet there and then. That would be far less excruciating than this.

“Yeong-ah. You promised you would try.” Gon looked almost hurt. Yeong couldn’t – he couldn’t say no to that. He couldn’t let Gon down.

Unfortunately.

God, Gon’s stupid face was so inconvenient.

“Fine,” Yeong conceded, “but she has to say yes too.”

Please, Seungah, please say no.

Yeong would give literally anything –

“I’ll do it,” she said, offering Yeong a sweet smile, “it’ll be a bit of fun, right Yeong?”

“Yeah. Fun.” If he didn’t jump off a fucking bridge first.

“Excellent! Seungah, you can have the rest of the day off. Yeong, your job for today is to go and show Seungah a good time, because I am not letting you work properly until you have the go ahead from at least two medical professionals, and that’s final. Now go on, I need to go and do… duties, so you two go and have fun together.” He pushed Yeong towards Seungah, and Yeong threw him a look that he hoped said ‘do I really have to?’ but from Gon’s reaction he might as well have told him to go and break up with Taeeul.

Jeez, Gon was way too invested in Yeong taking part in this date. Was it really that big of a deal? It’s not like it really affected Gon in any way, what Yeong was doing with his love life.

Not that he had a love life that wasn’t pining over Gon. Yet. He was still sure that was going to happen.

A hundred percent sure.

However.

With all that had happened when they first arrived back, with sleeping in Gon’s bed – that he had invited Yeong to do again, but which Yeong had declined for his own sanity – with Gon allowing him to use his name, and with all the new touching, Yeong had made the executive decision that getting over Gon could wait until he had at least found someone else he might be interested in.

It was really difficult, ok? Gon was just so easy to fall for, and after fifteen years Yeong couldn’t help the way his heart did somersaults every time Gon smiled at him. People addicted to substances had to come off them in a gradual way so they weren’t crippled by the withdrawal symptoms, and this was no different.

Baby steps. He’d get over Gon with baby steps. For sure.

Seungah took Yeong’s hand, jolting him back to reality. The first step would be this date with her, because it would prove that Gon really didn’t love him back, because he’d be nothing but happy for him to date someone else.

Yeong didn’t even know why he bothered to hope that maybe that wouldn’t be the case. Maybe he wanted Gon to feel just a fraction of what he felt when Gon and Taeeul were together, so he knew the pain of seeing the man you hoped would be your life partner fall for someone else, but Yeong knew it wouldn’t work like that.

Even so, he couldn’t help but hope. Even as he walked out of the room, hand-in-hand with Seungah, he hoped Gon was watching him go with a sadness to match his own.

A man could dream, right?

***

Lee Gon was many things, but subtle was not one of them.

Yeong noticed him immediately as he entered the restaurant where he and Seungah had chosen to have lunch, because the outfit of a hoodie, sunglasses, and face mask he had chosen in what looked to be an attempt to blend in meant he stuck out like a sore thumb.

Seriously. Who wore a face mask in a restaurant? You can’t eat in a mask!

Sparing another glance around the room, it wasn’t hard to notice the rest of the Royal Guard, all dotted around the restaurant. Seok Hopil was over to Yeong’s left in an obnoxious Hawaiian shirt, Park Inyeong was sitting a few tables in front of Yeong in the most girly outfit he had ever seen her wear, Jang Mireuk he knew was sitting somewhere behind him, and he was sure that was Kim Jiwoon he had just seen walk through the door in full sports gear.

Realistically, Yeong knew they were all there to protect Gon, but he couldn’t shake the thought that maybe they too were all interested to see what their Captain was up to on his date.

He knew he was going to have to put on a show, but was a whole audience of people he interacted with on a daily basis really necessary?

One wrong move and he was out. Literally.

Yeong really hoped his table wasn’t bugged. Gon wouldn’t go that far, right?

Then again… he did seem to care an awful lot about Yeong doing this. And Gon did have the resources of an entire country at his fingertips.

In a way he thought would be subtle enough for Gon not to notice, he felt under the table and looked over it for any sign of a listening device, or camera, or anything else that might expose him.

“Yeong, what are you doing?” Seungah asked, looking down at Yeong trying to lean under the table like he had just gone insane.

“Checking for bugs,” he answered, stretching to reach the farthest corner. “Gon might be listening.”

Seungah rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t have had time to prepare that far in advance. And look, surely he would have reacted to us even just talking about this, and he obviously hasn’t. We’re fine.”

“He might be acting!” Yeong hissed, briefly glancing over at Gon, who was very suspiciously looking the other way, pretending to inspect the menu.

“He’s not acting. I’m certain he can’t hear us; look,” she smirked, as she said, “Jo Yeong is super-mega-gay, and has been in love with His Majesty for fifteen years.”

“Seungah!” Yeong winced, tentatively looking over at Gon again to check the damage, but to his immense relief, Gon’s body language seemed unchanged.

He didn’t appear shocked, wasn’t marching over to Yeong to beat the shit out of him for his indecency, so either Gon was an incredibly good actor, or he hadn’t heard a thing.

Thank fuck.

“See?” Seungah leaned back in her chair, folding her arms with an air of satisfaction. “Nothing to worry about.”

“That was incredibly reckless,” Yeong chastised, “remind me why I opened up to you again?”

“I guessed.” She looked so damn proud of herself for it too.

“Right. Of course.”

“Honestly I’m surprised more people haven’t guessed. I mean, you’re around him constantly, so whenever His Majesty is out doing king stuff, you’re there behind him making heart eyes in front of the whole country.”

Yeong frowned. “I do not make ‘heart eyes.’”

“Oh you absolutely do, and it is very obvious, and because of that I know it can’t just be me and your siblings that know.”

And his siblings. Thanks for that reminder, Myeong Seungah.

“Wait,” Yeong paused, “how do you know my siblings know?”

“You… told me?” Seungah narrowed her eyes at him, like she was trying to pick him apart. “When I first guessed and you confessed, you told me that it was only your siblings that know. We’ve literally talked before about how they tease you about him – don’t you remember that?”

Shit. He should remember that; or more accurately he would, if he was the other Yeong.

How could he – oh! Convenient amnesia!

“I’ve had a bit of trouble with my memory after the accident,” he lied, trying his best to act as if he was admitting an unfortunate truth.

“Yeong. Your injury was in your chest, not your head.”

Seungah, no. No. Don’t fucking push it.

“Blood loss?” Yeong offered, pairing it with what he hoped was an innocent smile. “I did lose a lot of blood, and that would have affected my head.”

“Jo Yeong, you are a terrible actor,” she tutted, shaking her head. “I don’t know what happened, but I do know you, and I know it wasn’t that.”

“Can I get away with asking you to respect my privacy and drop this subject?”

The correct answer was yes. She had to say yes.

“Not a chance in hell. What’s going on?”

He couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t – but the weight of her concerned stare wasn’t exactly light, and aside from Gon, she was most likely his closest friend in this universe. She probably, almost definitely deserved to know.

He just prayed she didn’t collapse from the shock. Oh, and he hoped she’d believe him, and not hound him for a different answer. That too.

Dear Lord, please give him the strength to get through this swiftly and without incident.

“Ok,” he started, bringing his head down to his hands with a sigh to steel his nerves before looking up again, “I’m going to say some things that you’re not going to believe, but I want you to let me finish before you ask any questions. You got that?”

She nodded. Yeong took a deep breath, and told her the truth.

“It may seem impossible to comprehend, but this isn’t the only universe out there. There are others, with other versions of ourselves, and everyone else on Earth, and you know the Manpasikjeok? That lets you travel between the universes, and also travel in time, and it’s also why Lee Lim killed King Lee Ho but that’s not really that important to my explanation. What is important is that this, the timeline we’re living in now, is not the original timeline. Originally, Lee Lim escaped after he killed his brother, escaped to another universe, and Gon had this scar on his collarbone, and most importantly the Manpasikjeok was cut in half, where Lee Lim had one half, and Gon had the other. Anyway, some stuff happened, Gon and I went into the other world Lee Lim went to a few times, we met some people, Gon got a girlfriend, and eventually we went back in time and killed Lee Lim in Cheonjongo, making the timeline what it is now, except now Gon and I are from the original timeline, and I think most of it is the same but there are some things that are noticeably different, like now Gon doesn’t have that scar on his collarbone like he had before, and now I have siblings and parents who love each other who I did not have before we reset the timeline. Any questions?”

Seungah’s mouth was hanging open so wide her lower jaw might have hit the floor. Even after Yeong finished talking she stayed like that, internal cogs whirring for a few seconds before she said, “Yeah. What the fuck?”

Yeong hung his head and laughed. “Anything more specific? I promise you it’s all true.”

“Ok. You skipped over His Majesty’s girlfriend. What the hell is up with that?” She looked almost hurt, her face contorting into a fairly accurate portrayal of the way Yeong felt whenever he thought about Gon’s future Queen.

“In the original timeline, when Gon was saved from Lee Lim, the person who saved him dropped the ID card of a mysterious ‘Lieutenant Jeong Taeeul,’ whom he assumed saved him, although actually technically she didn’t, and Gon grew up madly in love with her. Turns out she was from the other world, and from what I heard, he bugged her until she fell in love with him, and now they’re all lovey-dovey twenty-four seven, and every time I see her stupid face I die a little more inside. Does that answer your question?”

Yeong knew his demeanour had become cold and stiff, but that didn’t seem to affect Seungah. In fact, her gaze radiated softness, and warmth.

Pity. She pitied him.

You know what? Fine. Let her pity him. It was fucking depressing.

“It does.” She smiled, and reached out for Yeong’s hand. “I have another question now, though. Do you need a hug?”

Yeong turned his head away, scowling in an attempt to keep his exterior strong.

“You do,” she said, and he did. “Come round here and let me give you a hug, come on.”

Reluctantly, Yeong brought his chair round next to Seungah’s, and she wrapped her arms around him, gently leaning her head on his shoulder.

It didn’t help. It’s not like it changed anything. Gon was still in love with Taeeul. He was still straight.

Yeong had still wasted half his life on a hopeless fantasy.

He peeked over at Gon again, from his new sitting position. He looked…

In all honesty, Yeong couldn’t tell how he looked, even if he had now taken off his sunglasses so it was easier to see his eyes. Maybe he was projecting, but Gon looked strangely sad, for a man that was so excited to set Yeong up.

Perhaps he was just upset that Yeong and Seungah hadn’t kissed yet. That was probably it. It wasn’t likely to be anything else.

“Why don’t we talk about about something else, hm? Like… if there’s copies of everyone, is there a copy of me in the other world you went to?” Seungah asked, trying her best to lighten the mood.

“There actually is,” Yeong said, and maybe Seungah’s mood-lightening attempt was working. “Your counterpart is called Nari, and there’s a copy of me too called Eunseob, and we’re dating in the other world.”

“We’re dating?” Seungah pushed Yeong out of the hug and stared at him, holding him at arm’s length. “But isn’t he gay?”

Yeong shook his head. “No, he’s definitely straight, don’t worry. They actually make a pretty cute couple – that’s kind of why Gon was so adamant to set us up. He thinks we’ll be as good together as they are.”

“I see.” She nodded understandingly, before pulling Yeong back into her hug. “Do you think we look like a couple now, with me holding you like this?”

Yeong glanced to Gon again. He still didn’t seem impressed.

Come on. It’s not like he and Taeeul were making out on their first date, right? Lower your expectations, Lee Gon!

“I’d say we do, to someone who didn’t know better, but we’re nowhere near our counterparts’ level of PDA. Look, here –”

Yeong took out his phone and showed her a video from when they were in Korea. Due to the noise in the restaurant you could hardly hear the audio, but even from just the visuals you could see it was chaos. Thanks to Taeeul’s mega-drinks, there were very few inhibitions round their little table at the fried chicken place, and Eunseob and Nari were all over each other. It was unsettling, really, to see someone that could easily be himself engaging in such open displays of… affection, and with the woman sitting next to him no less.

It was obvious that Yeong on the video wasn’t enjoying it either, as he made a show of pointing them out and then banging his head on the table in frustration.

That was when Gon took the phone from his hand, and blew a kiss towards the camera. Then, the video changed from the front camera to the back camera, where you could see Taeeul returning Gon’s blown kiss (and really, Yeong still wasn’t sure if it was actually intended for her, but that didn’t change the fact that she thought it was) from her position on Shinjae’s lap, where he had his arms wrapped around her to keep her from falling off.

Yeong in the video then hastily grabbed back his phone, and there was an awkward shot of the floor as he checked to see if it was still recording, before the video stopped.

“Holy shit,” was all Seungah said, dragging out the words as she processed that little peek into the other world. “You weren’t lying. There really – there’s two. Of you. And there was me, but not me, and hey! There was that weirdo guy who made me work overtime because he wouldn’t stop calling!”

“Oh, Shinjae? Yeah, I’d apologise for him but I know he’s not sorry at all. It’s kind of a long story with him; he’s technically from our world but also not really anymore? But because he’s technically from our world, he ended up here after we reset everything, and he was desperate to get back because he’s in love with Taeeul – and yes, that is Gon’s girlfriend. He’s as pathetic as me.”

“First of all, not pathetic.” Seungah gave him a stern look, but Yeong just shrugged it off. “Second of all, was that woman on weirdo guy’s lap His Majesty’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah, that’s Taeeul. Miss Heartbreaker herself.”

“Didn’t she seem way more enamoured with weirdo guy instead of His Majesty? I know they did a whole kiss blowing thing, but she was sitting on his lap.”

“Ok, no, that’s because there was a whole thing that happened with the alternate Shinjae being in a coma, and I think she was sad about that? I don’t really know the details, but I do know there’s nothing going on between them. Trust me. Shinjae would have told me if there was. He already gets excited enough when he misinterprets Gon’s actions as meaning he has feelings for me, because that means he gets one step closer to being able to get with Taeeul.”

Seungah scrunched up her nose in thought, before asking, “Does he know? About you?”

“Unfortunately. He guessed – so I guess you were right about it not being just you. Eunseob and Nari, our counterparts, also know. Eunseob read my soppy laments about Gon on my phone, and then I got pressured into telling Nari, so now there’s seven of us that know, including me.”

“Ha! I knew I couldn’t be the only one.” She grinned, and Yeong rolled his eyes. “Backtracking though, I want to know about why this Shinjae guy thinks His Majesty is in love with you. Permission to call him by his name has gotta be on that list, right? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that little lapse in etiquette, Captain Jo.”

“That… actually happened after we left. Shinjae doesn’t know about that,” Yeong admitted, and Seungah’s eyes widened in a mixture of shock and glee.

“So there’s more? I swear to God Jo Yeong, why haven’t you mentioned this sooner? Give me the deets – I want to know everything,” she said, getting out her phone and opening the note she used for fanfic ideas.

“Shinjae thinks he’s in love with me because instead of rushing back to see Taeeul after the reset, he stayed and looked after me. And had me in his bed, but you know about that. And gave me his clothes, and got me dressed in a pretty hands-on way, and took me with them to the other world when he didn’t have to, and it would have been quicker without me. And he’s started initiating a lot of physical contact with me, even though he hates physical contact – and actually the morning after we came back there was a lot of physical contact, but that’s not really important. Oh, also apparently he ‘looks at me like he’s in love,’ but I think that one especially is just his wishful thinking.”

“Uh huh, uh huh,” she said, busy taking notes on what he was saying, “tell me more about this morning after, please. I said I wanted to know everything.”

“Really?” Yeong sighed, wishing he hadn’t mentioned that morning, which he had safely compartmentalised into a far corner of his mind so he didn’t implode with embarrassment.

“Really. Tell me.”

“Fine, ok, well, I guess it sort of started the night before? We got back late, and Gon invited me to sleep in his bed again, and I was having a moment of weakness so I agreed. When I woke up the next morning I had wrapped him in my arms, and we were both sort of almost naked so naturally I freaked out because no touching, you know? Except then he invited me back into his arms like he wanted me there, and we had a bit of a moment, and he asked me to use his name, and then in a fit of idiocy I somehow found myself straddled over him, and at one point I touched his cheek and immediately regretted it but then he held my hand there, while I was still straddled over him, by the way, and then Lady Noh fucking walked in.”

Seungah tried and failed not to burst into a fit of laughter, covering her hand with her mouth in a futile attempt to conceal her emotions. “That is not how I thought that story would end,” she managed to say, before her laughter interrupted her again.

“It wasn’t fucking funny, Seungah, it was mortifying!” Yeong insisted, but that didn’t faze Seungah one bit.

“Jeez, no wonder she was all ‘oh Seungah, maybe you should send His Majesty your fanfic when it’s done, wink wink.’ Wait no – this was after that. I guess instead that’s why she nudged me about it again a couple of days ago?”

What.

“She said what?” Yeong not so much asked as demanded the information, staring Seungah down with a glare so piercing he usually reserved it for people trying to harm his King.

“To… send His Majesty my fanfic? Did I forget to tell you that?”

“Yes you did! What the fuck, Seungah?”

“Oh, well, she sort of asked me to send him my fic. To give him a nudge about his love life, or something. I don’t know, I stopped listening after she said to send it to him because I was so stoked about it. I think she ships you guys.”

“Did you send it. Did you fucking send it?”

Yeong was shaking; whether with rage or fear, he wasn’t sure. What the fuck was Lady Noh thinking? Was this to give Gon a slap in the face to say ‘if you don’t get your act together on finding a queen soon, people are going to think you’re gay?’ First of all it wasn’t even necessary because Gon had Taeeul, and second of all, did she really have to use Yeong as the example of the awful negative homosexual consequences?

Did she know, about him? Was she waiting with this information ready to blackmail him, ready to permanently exile him if he put a foot wrong?

Oh God, this was before that morning too! No wonder Gon wasn’t taking him back into his guard – he was probably under orders not to until Yeong had been thoroughly interrogated!

Seungah was hesitating, trying to read into the panic that Yeong knew was written all over his face.

“Technically,” she said, “I never sent it to him.”

“Technically doesn’t sound promising.” God, Yeong’s voice was shaking too. He didn’t deserve to be accepted back into the Royal Guard if he couldn’t even handle this.

“I… may have printed it out. Along with some other ones. And bound them nicely. And put them on his desk. This morning.” She offered a smile in apology, but Yeong was not having it, not for a second.

“Seungah!” he cried, trying his best to stay quiet enough that Gon or any of his Royal Guard wouldn’t hear. “Oh my God. This is it. My life is over. Goodbye Captain Jo, hello… fuck, I don’t even know!”

“Ok, ok, let’s all just take a moment to breathe, ok?” Seungah said, gently rubbing his back as if that would make a fucking difference. “He does not know you had a hand in those fics. He doesn’t even know I wrote them – I only signed them off as ‘Jogon Jogon,’ so this can’t be traced back to either of us, and definitely can’t be traced back to you. He is not going to think any less of you, just because some rando on the internet who wrote these fics thinks you’d be good together.”

“But even then, it’s going to be weird between us!” Yeong ran a hand through his hair, ignoring how it messed up his perfect gel work because right now that was the least of his worries. “He’s going to look at me and think of the fic, of how there’s people out there who think we’re banging when the cameras aren’t rolling! Gon’s all about public appearance, he worries about it constantly, and if he thinks his people think there’s something between us then he won’t want to be seen dead with me ever again!”

“Or,” Seungah drawled, looking up at Yeong and trying to be optimistic, “he writes it off as a joke, and doesn’t think about it again. Or maybe he’ll read the first sentence and tear it up. Or maybe… maybe he’ll be into it, and he’ll break up with his girlfriend because it makes him realise how he feels about you.”

“That’s totally unrealistic,” Yeong asserted, because it was. Totally, completely unrealistic.

Sure, the thought made him smile, just a little, but it was unrealistic. An optimistic dream.

“Cheered you up though, didn’t it?” Seungah nudged his arm, and Yeong couldn’t help but laugh.

Oh, what the hell. Maybe she was right, and it wouldn’t be all bad. It certainly wouldn’t be good, but it wouldn’t necessarily be bad.

Ha. Catch him thinking that, and then have Gon firing him tonight, because he can’t stand to look at him. So soon after he’d assured Yeong that he wouldn’t let him get fired, too.

The universe was probably just tired of his cowardly ass trying to stay in the closet for as long as possible, that’s why it had been doing its very best to drag Yeong’s secret kicking and screaming into the realm of public knowledge.

He looked up at Gon again as he nodded in response to Nari’s question, and this time it was too late for Gon to look away. Their eyes met, and instead of backing down, Gon’s eyes crinkled into what Yeong thought must be a smile underneath his mask.

Yeong smiled back. Maybe if he really tried to act as if he was enjoying this date in an actually romantic kind of way, Gon wouldn’t be fazed by the contents of the fanfic, because then he could rest assured that his heterosexual Captain Jo would never think of him as anything more than a friend.

“I need to be more straight,” he told Seungah, turning back to face her, “that might be the solution to all this.”

“Yeong, what?” She laughed nervously, unsure of how to react to that. “I know you may think this seems dire, but being ashamed of your sexuality isn’t the way forward. It’s ok that you like guys, you don’t need to change that.”

“No, I meant now. Acting. If he’s convinced I’m interested in you, he probably won’t care so much.”

Seungah narrowed her eyes. “What are you suggesting?”

“I don’t know, I…” he trailed off, glancing over at Gon again, who had lost his encouraging smile from before, and was back to looking vaguely sad. Yeong had told himself before the date that he wouldn’t do this, but if he wanted Gon to be satisfied, he doubted he had much choice. “I think I should kiss you, or something. If you’re ok with that.”

“Are you ok with that?” she countered, eyeing him with concern. “I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to kissing you, I mean, you’re a very handsome man, but I’m more concerned that I’m not a very handsome man, and therefore not really your thing.”

“But that’s the whole point! We need to pretend that this is my thing, and right now this is the only way I can think of that would ensure that.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Tentatively, she reached a hand up to Yeong’s cheek, and closed most of the distance between their lips, hovering nervously just a small distance away.

Yeong closed his eyes and leaned forward the last inch, and as their lips met, he took Nari’s advice for the whole date and tried to imagine it was Gon.

It very obviously was not Gon. Not that he knew what it was like to kiss Gon, of course, but he knew it wouldn’t be like this. Seungah was delicate where Gon would be strong, Seungah’s perfume was noticeably different to Gon’s cologne, her lips tasted like the lipstick she was wearing, instead of Gon’s preferred chapstick, which Yeong has asked to borrow more than a few times.

Most importantly, though, the main difference between the two was that with Seungah, he felt nothing. Sure, he felt the sensations, which were definitely pleasurable, especially after having gone for quite a few years now without kissing anybody at all, but it was clear to Yeong that his heart just wasn’t in it. Kissing Seungah didn’t even give him a fraction of the buzz he felt when he was simply wrapped in Gon’s arms, Gon’s finger tracing lazy circles on his exposed chest.

Still, he tried to seem into it. Tried to move his body in a way that was smooth and sensual, rather than stiff and forced.

It was Seungah that broke off first, gently pushing Yeong back far enough that she could study his face, and make sure she hadn’t done any irreparable damage. He offered a smile as a sign of ‘I’m fine, it was just a kiss,’ and, satisfied, she pulled him into the hug they were resting in before.

Surely that was enough for Gon, right? Hesitantly, Yeong looked over again, checking for damage control, but to his surprise, Gon was gone. There were also far fewer members of the Royal Guard still in the room, and as he looked to the door, he noticed Park Inyeong on her way out, who winked at him and gave him a supportive thumbs up as she left.

His colleagues were going to want to hear all about this when he went back to work, weren’t they?

Maybe that was Gon’s strategy to keep him at home. If he didn’t come into work, then he wouldn’t have to talk about his personal life.

Well played, Lee Gon, well played. Taking the whole Royal Guard with you to come and spy was a genius move.

He hoped Gon was satisfied with his performance. That must have been why he left – because he was satisfied, and didn’t need to see any more to know that his job was done.

Well congratulations, Gon. You sure did set Yeong up with the love of his life, and he’ll be eternally grateful for your service.

Now all that was left was to keep up the heterosexual façade, for the rest of his goddamn life.

***

Gon couldn’t do it. He couldn’t fucking do it.

And the worst part was that he didn’t even know why.

It was supposed to be perfect. It was perfect. He had handed Yeong a life partner on a silver platter, someone he could trust, confide in, relax with, as well as enjoy a little romantic endeavour with from time to time. That was going to help, it did help, as Yeong looked to be enjoying himself immensely with Seungah’s company, nestled in her arms, sharing jokes and stories, letting himself outwardly feel things he never got to when he was on duty as Captain Jo.

They even kissed, for God’s sake! Gon had helped them create a beautiful connection, one that he knew would be as strong as Eunseob and Nari’s, and would almost certainly last for the rest of their lives.

Gon had given him that opportunity. Yeong was set for life, and was going to be ten times happier than he had ever been before, and that’s what Gon wanted for him.

So why the hell did it hurt so damn much? Why couldn’t he bear to watch his Captain live his life?

Every time Yeong laughed at something Seungah said, it was like there were a thousand little needles poking into his chest.

All the time they were sat in that hug, it was like there was a growing weight of doom building on Gon’s shoulders.

And when they kissed, when Yeong made the final move to kiss Seungah’s lips, it felt as if someone had ripped open his heart and cut all his heartstrings, one by one.

It was too much. He had to leave. He just couldn’t do it.

What sort of a friend did that make him? Friends were supposed to support friends with new romantic partners, were meant to be excited that their friend had found someone they wanted to be with, but Gon couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but sorrow and frustration.

Was he really that possessive, that selfish? This was great for Yeong! Nothing but positive!

Gon tried to convince himself that maybe it was because he missed Taeeul, but he knew that wasn’t the case. He hadn’t been thinking about Taeeul at all as he’d watched Yeong on his date; had only been able to think about Yeong, and how he wished…

He didn’t even know what he wished.

Maybe he did. Maybe he knew what Lady Noh would suggest he wished. Maybe he knew what even Taeeul herself would suggest he wished.

But it couldn’t be that. Even if it was, it couldn’t be that.

Yeong was straight, and Yeong loved Seungah. That was obvious now.

Gon walked into his office with a heavy heart, collapsing onto his chair with a sigh. Perhaps dealing with the paperwork Seungah had given him to sort through would help clear his head, and distract his heart long enough to enable him to think rationally.

There was a post-it note on the top, with a message from the Head Court Lady.

Your Majesty,

Following our discussion a few days ago, I have compiled a set of texts that might set your mind straight as to what you’re looking for. Or not, as the case may be. Please take the time to read them carefully, as I think they’ll give you some invaluable insight on some issues you may not have considered before.

Happy reading,

-Noh Oknam.

Ominous. Very ominous. Gon had a sneaking suspicion as to which conversation she was talking about, but he really hoped he was wrong.

He took off the sticky note, and looked at the first page of the first document, titled ‘Can’t we try improvising, just this once?’ by someone named ‘Jogon Jogon.’

The name of that author didn’t fill his heart with hope.

With morbid curiosity, he flicked through the document. It appeared to be a work of fiction, written from Gon’s perspective, in which he was being hounded by the Head Court Lady to find a queen – which, admittedly, was weirdly un-fictional – but the reason he hadn’t managed it was because he was madly in love with Yeong. Fictional-Gon spent his days wishing he was just an ordinary citizen, because if that was the case, he would have asked Yeong out years ago. Fictional-Gon also suspected that Yeong had feelings for him in return, because he kept noticing normal-Yeong-behaviours that apparently meant that Yeong was in love with him?

It had to be said, despite the obvious ‘Yeong’s not actually gay,’ fictional-Yeong was characterised extremely well. How did the person who wrote this know that Yeong never let Gon visit his apartment, or that he always declined Gon’s offers to drink with him, or that he always changed the subject when Gon tried to talk to him about women. None of those details were public information, yet they matched with reality perfectly.

Those were some really lucky guesses, huh.

He kept reading. Fictional-Gon was growing more and more frustrated with the role he had to play, and then suddenly while he was in this important business meeting, he ditched it all and ran off to find Yeong. They kissed under a cherry blossom tree, and then fictional-Gon took Yeong into his arms and carried him bridal-style into his bedroom, where he took off Yeong’s clothes, pinning him down onto the bed as he unzipped his own –

Gon shut the document, throwing it down onto his desk as he pushed his chair backwards, away from the monstrosity in front of him. His heart was thundering at a hundred miles an hour because what the actual fuck?

Did Lady Noh really think this was appropriate to send him? A whole pile of what Gon could only assume was all steamy gay smut about himself and his best friend?

How would Yeong react, if he found out Gon had been reading that? Even if he married Taeeul, even if he ended up marrying someone else who wasn’t Taeeul, Yeong would never look at him the same way again!

‘Please take the time to read them carefully’ – really? Really? Surely Lady Noh would know that he would never do something like that. Never in a million years.

He was not interested. Not in the slightest. Not even a little bit.

Well.

Maybe just a little bit – but only because he was curious as to just how perverted this stuff could get! At heart, he was a scientist, and part of being a scientist is being curious about things, even if they’re weird and fucked up.

It was for science, Gon told himself as he turned back to the first page and started to read it properly, to find out how this Jogon Jogon person thought he thought, how they thought Yeong thought, how they thought he and Yeong would work together in a relationship.

It was for science too, that Gon wanted to find out how Jogon Jogon rationalised Gon being able to start a relationship with a man, despite that way not being able to produce an heir. It was for science that Gon wanted to see how someone from his kingdom thought the country would react when he announced it wasn’t a queen that he would have by his side, but another king.

It was all for science, so it was perfectly valid that once he started reading, he couldn’t look away.

Gon did not realise just how addictive this fiction would get.

After finishing the printed out stories on his desk, he had searched online for this Jogon Jogon person, and had found a plethora of others on a website for fanfiction, so he had started to read those too.

All in the name of science, of course.

He hadn’t noticed it beginning to get dark. He was completely absorbed in this fantasy world of soft moments and hidden feelings, and so he’d entirely lost track of time.

It had been five hours, since he had arrived home. Whoops. So much for the things he actually had to do today.

It was gripping, alright? Reading on the website was perhaps more interesting than reading the printed copies, because on the website you could also see the comments.

And there were mountains of them.

User after user, all commenting on how much they loved the writing, how much they loved the couple, how much they loved the storylines Jogon Jogon created.

There was one commenter who stood out to Gon. He went by the name ‘captain_dreamland,’ and left heartfelt comments on each one, all about how much Jogon Jogon’s writing spoke to him, and how it gave him him hope for his own situation. From what he said in the comments, Gon could glean that captain_dreamland was gay, but closeted, and not in a position to come out because of his circumstances. Like the characters in the stories, he was also hopelessly in love with his best friend. Although he was certain his friend was straight, he always spoke about how reading Jogon Jogon’s work made him feel comforted, because they created a world where his sort of feelings were ok even between public figures such as the king and his guard, and this fictional universe was the one place where he felt truly understood.

Reading that… it broke Gon’s heart. To think that there were people out there, in his country, that didn’t feel accepted anywhere but fiction. He had done his best to make Corea a safe place for the LGBTQ+ community, introducing marriage equality, allowing his citizens to change their legal gender – including recognising non-binary genders – and clamping down on anti-discrimination laws, but though changing the law was one thing, changing attitudes was something entirely different.

 Gon knew how the people running the country felt. When it came to his meeting with the Prime Minister, he was shocked to find that it wasn’t Koo Soryeong he was meeting, but instead just another old man, amongst a sea of old men in the parliament, all of them unwilling to change anything about the way Corea had been running for decades.

Jogon Jogon was too optimistic. Even if there were fans of her work out there that would support the idea of a gay king, he doubted his parliament would be on the same page.

Still, he hoped captain_dreamland wasn’t under that sort of pressure, and would be able to find the courage to tell his friend how he felt, or at least try going out with someone else that would make him happy.

He scrolled down to find the captain_dreamland comment on the work he had just finished reading, one from Yeong’s perspective, where after sitting on his feelings for fifteen years, he finally decided to tell Gon how he felt, ending with Gon realising he reciprocated those feelings, and them getting together, et cetera et cetera.

It read:

captain_dreamland: My God, you have no idea how happy this made me. Once again, you’ve worked your fanfiction magic and have written a masterpiece that’s struck me right in the soul.

Your exploration of Yeong’s feelings was beautiful – I know you’re well aware of exactly how much I relate to him, but this one has really taken the cake. It brought me to tears to see him struggling over whether or not to even tell Gon about his sexuality, let alone his feelings, because of how much he fears losing everything.

If I’m being honest, reading this has almost given me the courage to tell my own Lee Gon, about my sexuality at least. I probably won’t, because I’m a massive coward anywhere but in your fanfics, but next time I see him I might just consider it. If your Gon didn’t cast Yeong out as soon as he admitted that he wasn’t interested in women then who knows, maybe mine won’t either!

Still, it’s probably safest not to risk it. I can just live vicariously through your stories instead, and cry alone in my bedroom at these two finding happiness with each other.

I will be reading this one over and over again until the next one comes out, so if it gets a weirdly high number of views, that’s why.

Gon tried to move on, to leave it, but he couldn’t. Of course the Gon character didn’t just abandon Yeong – they were best friends, they stuck together no matter what! That was what best friends did, whatever their sexuality, even if it had been a secret for years.

Maybe Gon was a hypocrite for what he wanted to say. It’s not like he had ever confided in Yeong about his own… doubts, before he’d settled on the realisation that for all intents and purposes, if he was going to find a queen, he was straight, but this guy wasn’t a king, he was just a regular person, who sounded like he needed a friend.

As he was a kind and benevolent king, it was the least he could do to give this poor soul some reassurance, so he made an account to reply.

And, ok, also so he could follow Jogon Jogon’s latest fics, because they were weirdly addictive and he had started to develop an annoying ache in his chest that told him he needed more.

toofargone replying to captain_dreamland: I’m sorry if this is weird, coming from a stranger on the internet, but today I’ve been bingeing Jogon Jogon’s work, and I couldn’t help noticing your comments. It’s really pulled on my heartstrings, hearing you talk about the man you like, and how you don’t even want to come out, for fear of losing your friend.

The way I see it, if your man is anything like Lee Gon, you have nothing to worry about in regards to opening up to him. The two of them have a special bond – even if Gon was to get a girlfriend, he would still make time for Yeong, gay or not, because he loves him, and that’s not going to change for anything. If he can’t accept you for who you are, then he’s really not worth having around as a friend, let alone a lover.

And who knows, maybe your Gon is hiding some secret feelings of his own, and is also scared to open up about them. At the end of the day, you won’t know for sure unless you talk about it.

Of course, you don’t have to listen to a word of what I’m saying – I am just a stranger on the internet after all – but from the sounds of it, I think you’d be happier if you let yourself confide in your friend. This shit is hard to keep to yourself, and it might just put your mind at ease if you opened up to someone in person, as they could give you a hug and tell you it’s all going to work out ok.

Good luck and keep fighting, little Unbreakable Sword! *gives virtual hug* it’s all going to work out ok!

Gon leaned back and smiled to himself, admiring his handiwork. It was a gamble for sure, for this guy to tell his friend, but Gon had a gut feeling it would all turn out fine. If his best friend was the Gon to captain_dreamland’s Yeong, then there would be no issue at all. He might even get lucky, and be able to start the relationship he’d been dreaming about.

Hang on, what? How had he got so comfortable just comparing this guy’s situation to himself and Yeong? They weren’t – there was nothing actually between them, the real Lee Gon and Jo Yeong. He’d been making this whole comparison, but they didn’t fit at all!

In real life, Yeong was straight. They both literally had girlfriends; he assumed, anyway, given the success of Yeong’s date. Of course, he would be totally ok if Yeong was gay, but he wasn’t!

Gon put his head in his hands, in a futile attempt to dispel the thoughts of ‘but what if he was?’ creeping into his mind. The possibility – it wasn’t even worth thinking about!

What was he even meant to do if Yeong was gay, huh brain? What the fuck would it change that would make so much of a difference?

If Yeong was gay, it would not affect Gon. It would not affect the fact that Gon had to find his Queen, for the future of his country, and that’s all Gon needed to worry about in regards to all this relationship nonsense.

So why, why, did the possibility of that scenario make him feel things? Things that weren’t necessarily bad things!

He had been reading too much of that fanfiction. It had wormed itself into his brain, warping his ability to think straight, to think clearly and rationally about these things.

Gon. Was. In. Love. With. Taeeul. End of story. No further questions.

He banged his hand down hard on the desk in frustration, and turned away from the evil laptop that was sneaking these doubts into his mind.

For about two seconds, before his willpower gave way and he opened Jogon Jogon’s next work.

This one… this one was just straight up porn. To be honest, that was probably best – not as many feelings, when it’s just pleasures of the flesh.

When he was about halfway through, he was startled out of his reading trance by a shaft of light invading the darkness of the room, as someone opened the door. Gon slammed his laptop shut and looked up to see Yeong’s silhouette, practically pitch black against the bright background of the corridor.

Oh, Yeong. How weird it was to see you in person, fully clothed, when just a few seconds ago in Gon’s mind you were grasping at Gon’s sheets, moaning his name.

What?

No, Lee Gon, no. No. That was not an appropriate thought to be having about your straight friend who was standing right there.

Gon hoped he wasn’t bright red. That level of embarrassment would take a lot of explaining.

“Hard at work?” Yeong asked, turning on the light before strolling over and perching on the end of Gon’s desk.

“Yes,” he lied, “you could say that, but it’s suddenly not important now you’re here. How was your date? Was I right to set you up with Seungah, or was I right?”

“Wrong, actually. After you left, we decided it was better to remain friends, instead of pursuing something romantic. We still had fun though – we went and got ice creams and sat on the beach, dipped our toes in the water and then regretted it immensely when our feet got covered in sand. Then we sort of talked about life, while we dried off. It was nice.”

“I’m sorry, you wanted to stay just friends?” Gon knew his feelings of utter confusion had reached his face, because what on Earth – “But you kissed! I saw you!”

“I told you before,” Yeong reminded him, “she’s not my type. Not in the slightest. The kiss we shared just proved that to me more.”

“But don’t you have to be together? If Eunseob and Nari are together, and if they end up having children, doesn’t that mean you and Seungah will be together and having children at the same time? To keep the worlds consistent?”

Yeah, that was right. Eunseob and Nari weren’t going to break up any time soon, so if all went according to plan, Yeong had to be with Seungah. Honestly, he didn’t even know why he had possibly entertained the thought of Yeong being anything other than heterosexual – Eunseob was straight, and Yeong was Eunseob, so Yeong was straight. Jogon Jogon didn’t know about Eunseob, so while they might have their doubts, Gon’s mind was clear.

Yeong was straight.

“Not necessarily,” Yeong mused, looking back at Gon, “maybe they won’t end up having children. Maybe they’ll adopt instead. You don’t know what they’re going to do.”

“No,” he admitted, “I suppose I don’t.”

“Hey, don’t look so down.” Did he look down? Shit, he didn’t realise his emotions were that obvious! “Just because it didn’t work out with Seungah doesn’t mean that’s it for me. I might keep trying this whole dating thing – just with people I’d like, this time. No offence, but I think I know what I like better than you.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “you probably do. Do you have anyone in mind?”

Maybe it was just Gon’s imagination, but he could have sworn he saw a hint of colour reach Yeong’s cheeks as he said, “No, definitely not. No one, yet. I’m looking though. Time for me to move on… to the next chapter of my life, I mean.”

Yeong paused for a second, before asking, “I’m sorry, it’s been bugging me – you’re not looking at me any differently, are you?”

Shit, did Yeong know? He knew, oh God he fucking knew what Gon had been doing all day, he knew about his unwanted thoughts, Gon wasn’t sure how but he knew!

Yeong must be so disgusted with him. Who the hell reads about fucking their best friend? Who the hell enjoys it?

“No,” Gon assured Yeong, and himself. He didn’t think of Yeong any differently. Not really. Not actively. “No, I’m not looking at you any different to normal. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just wondered. Dodgy parenting, you know, always worrying you secretly hate me.” Yeong laughed nervously, and offered Gon a weak smile.

Gon shook his head and smiled too. If that was Yeong’s answer, he was probably in the clear. Thank God.

“Yeong-ah,” he assured him, “I could never hate you. We’ve been friends for years, and that’s not going to change that easily. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

Yeong scrunched his nose up as he smiled for real this time. “Ugh,” he moaned, “how unfortunate.”

“Hey! You take that back or I’ll behead you.” Gon pointed an accusing finger at Yeong, who casually brushed it off.

“I’d like to see you try.”

“I would!”

“You’d hurt this poor, crippled soul?” Yeong made a comically sad face as he leaned back across Gon’s desk and looked up at Gon with puppy eyes, clutching his chest.

“I will if he’s going to be an asshole.”

“Tyrant.”

“Drama queen.”

“I’m the drama queen?” Yeong sat back up to turn and confront Gon. “You’re the one who threatens beheading every time you meet a minor inconvenience.”

“As if you’re not just as violent, Captain ‘I’m going to threaten everyone we meet with my gun’ Jo Yeong. And besides, it’s my right as King to get rid of traitors any way I see fit, and the way I see fit is beheading.”

“You have a very loose view of what constitutes a traitor.”

“And you are pushing your luck, Captain Jo. You’re lucky I like having you around, or you’d have been beheaded a long time ago.”

“You like having me around?” Yeong’s eyes lit up, in a way that suggested maybe this wasn’t totally part of the joke.

“Of course I do. You’re probably my favourite person.”

That felt odd to admit, but it also felt true when he said it out loud.

How could you not love Jo Yeong? Seungah didn’t know what she was missing, if they really were just going to be friends.

“Except Taeeul, right?” Yeong was staring at him inquisitively, pursing his lips as he concentrated on picking apart Gon’s every movement, using his observational skills honed by years of being Captain of the Royal Guard.

“Not necessarily,” he admitted, flicking his gaze down before looking up to gauge Yeong’s reaction. Yeong seemed taken aback, but not in a bad way. The corners of his mouth were twitching upward, despite his obvious efforts to suppress them. “I love Taeeul, but I can’t even begin to imagine my life without you.”

“Oh, stop it,” Yeong laughed, “don’t go giving me delusions of grandeur. You can’t imagine your life without me because it’s my job to always be there, whether you like it or not.”

Gon shrugged. “Maybe so. But I want you here regardless.”

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere. I might even come into work for real tomorrow.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Gon commanded, trying to be stern but not managing to keep a straight face. How could he, when Yeong was beaming down at him, the picture of pure innocence, completely in contrast with the scheming Gon knew was going through his mind.

Yeong laughed too, a free expression of amusement, instead of a tool to cover a negative emotion he wanted to hide.

It was beautiful. Perfect. And Gon felt proud, in a way, that he was the one to cause that.

Even if the date had been a failure, he couldn’t bring himself to feel disappointed. Maybe that was his selfishness from earlier talking, but he was glad that it was himself that had brought joy to Captain Jo Yeong.

That was one thing Jogon Jogon had got right. They were perfect for each other.

***

captain_dreamland replying to toofargone: Thank you so much, random internet stranger! I must say I was surprised to find a reply to a comment I made months ago, but I appreciate it nonetheless.

Though I doubt my Lee Gon does have secret feelings like mine (he has a girlfriend, and I think that’s pretty telling), you might well be right about what you said in regards to opening up to him. He’s been softer, recently, far more than he ever was before, and all that has been making me more confident that he might not throw me out of his life that quickly if I tell him about my sexuality. Not much, mind you, because this whole subject turns me into a little bundle of nerves and overthinking, but certainly more than before. If the opportunity arises, I might just tell him. He’s been encouraging me to try dating, and I said I would, but if I start doing it for real then it’s really only a matter of time before I’ll have to come clean.

Forgive me if I’m reading too far into your words, but do you have experience with this too? I don’t have any gay friends, and although my straight friends are great, they just don’t always get it, you know? If you wanted, I’d be happy to talk with you more – maybe on a private message, so the author doesn’t get toooo many unwanted notifications.

Speak soon, maybe! My work can get pretty hectic, so I can’t promise I’ll always be around, but if you do want to talk I’ll get back to you as soon as I can :)

Chapter Text

The cursor was staring at him.

Blink, into view. Blink, out of view. Blink, into view again.

If Gon managed to find a way to behead it, he would. It was mocking him, every oscillation in and out of existence a reminder of how empty his screen was, and as far as Gon was concerned, that was treason.

He really wanted to reply to captain_dreamland. He really, really did. It had been gnawing at him throughout the past week, a constant urge yelling at him to just reply, to just spill all his secrets to this nice internet stranger who wanted to help.

So he had tried. Several times. All fruitless. All spent staring at that fucking cursor, willing the words to come, but having them be blocked every single time.

This was the third time he had tried that day.

It should be easy. Just write the words. They didn’t even have to be true words! He could lie, he could say anything, this guy wouldn’t know any better.

He could tell him the obvious truth. He could say that he had a girlfriend, that he was only interested in having a girlfriend and then eventually having a wife, but that he’d still like to be there for him, and that he didn’t want him to think he was ignoring him or brushing him off, because he still wanted to talk.

The problem with the obvious truth, however, was that it didn’t feel like the truth. Not the real truth. And yes, he could lie, that was an option, it was definitely an option, but captain_dreamland had spilled his soul into his comments, and Gon had looked into that soul, and so he felt like this poor man was owed a bit of his own soul in return.

The real truth. Whatever that was.

There would be no real consequences, if he opened up to this stranger. He didn’t know who Gon was, he’d just think he was another normal person, so it shouldn’t be this difficult to just be honest.

But if he was being truly honest with himself, he wasn’t sure what honesty was, anymore. It was all so convoluted, and he had lost track of which of his feelings were lies, and which were real.

How could he possibly begin to tell the truth, when he didn’t even know what that meant?

How did he feel, really?

That wasn’t a question he had tried to answer since… he didn’t even know when. He’d never thought it was important. His life was his job, and his job was his life, and his duties always had to come before his personal feelings.

That was the real truth, right? That his country had to come first, no matter what. His people were depending on him, and he had to do right by them.

And yet.

And yet, and yet suddenly there’s all this chatter about what he wants, and what he feels, as if it suddenly started to matter as soon as the timeline was reset.

He had become some sort of emotional trolley problem, where the side with one person was his own feelings, the side with five people was his country, and the trolley was his romantic future.

The answer was obvious. Save the country, sacrifice himself. It had always been obvious.

It had always been obvious, so why was he still here, still stuck on what to say to some random internet stranger?

Gon slammed the lid of the laptop shut. He didn’t want to look at it anymore.

He had to focus. He was taking Yeong to Korea today, and he was going to see Taeeul again, and he was looking forward to that, because Taeeul was his girlfriend, and he loved her.

He loved her.

He loved her.

He loved her, so why, why was he overthinking?

No. He loved her. That was all that mattered in the end.

The problem was how long he had been waiting to see her again. It had been too long, and to fix the problem, he needed to see her again, now. No more stalling.

Filled with unsteady confidence, Gon got up and headed straight for Yeong’s apartment, grabbing the Manpasikjeok from its new home on his desk. Hopefully Yeong wouldn’t mind too much that Gon wanted to leave a little earlier than normal – he still hadn’t been allowed to work, so it’s not like he would really be doing anything, anyway.

It was as he was walking that Gon realised he had never been to Yeong’s place before. Whenever he suggested it, Yeong always reminded him how it would be easier for him to come over to the palace instead, as there was far more to do, with better facilities, and a team of waiting staff, and though Gon always conceded, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of home his best friend had made for himself. He knew from the building plan that it was a nice apartment – all the Royal Guards lived in apartments on the palace grounds, and being Captain meant that Yeong got the nicest of the lot – so Gon couldn’t understand why he was so adamant that he couldn’t come over, at least once.

Maybe it was messy, and he didn’t want Gon to see that. Maybe there were piles of clothes all over the floor, and empty food wrappers in places empty food wrappers shouldn’t be.

Then again, this was Yeong he was talking about. That level of untidiness didn’t sound like his immaculately presented Captain of the Royal Guard at all.

So really, what could possibly be the problem?

He knocked on the door, idly spinning the Manpasikjeok in his hand as he waited.

And waited, and waited.

“Yeong-ah!” he called, knocking on the door again, but louder this time. “Are you there, Yeong-ah?”

Gon pretended he didn’t hear any muffled grumbling along with Yeong’s footsteps as he walked up to the door and complained, “I thought we were meeting in another two and a half hours. What are you doing here?”

“I can’t wait any longer,” Gon whined, leaning against the closed door and pouting, “I need to go and see Taeeul now.”

Yeong groaned, and the door rattled with what Gon assumed was Yeong hitting it in frustration.

“Fine,” he sighed, in apathetic defeat, “but you’re waiting here for me to get ready, because you and your great timing have just caught me getting out of the shower.”

Damn, what a sight that would be – was what Gon caught himself thinking, before he could stop himself. Captain Jo Yeong, envy of men across the nation, beads of water dripping off his wet hair hanging tastefully loose, running over his collarbone, over every dip and curve of his chiselled torso, and Jesus fuck, didn’t he just stop himself from thinking about this? What the hell was he doing?

He was admiring his friend in a totally objective way. That’s what he was doing. Yeong was drop-dead gorgeous, and that was just a fact, no matter what you were into.

“Want me to help you with that?” he joked, actively pushing any thoughts that were reminiscent of a Jogon Jogon fanfiction out of his mind.

Yeong answered with a very certain, “No.”

“Can I at least wait inside? If you’re going to be a while then I want to sit down, and as the King I can’t exactly sit on the floor.”

“No!” Yeong was louder this time, a hint of panic reaching his voice. “You can’t come in.”

“Aw, Yeong-ah, is there something you don’t want me seeing?” Gon asked mockingly, trying his best to look through the crack between the wall and the door, to see if he could see anything.

He couldn’t.

“No,” Yeong said quickly, almost too quickly, “no, there’s nothing. I just like my privacy, especially when I don’t have clothes on, so I’m afraid you might have to try your hand at sitting on the floor for the first time, Your Royal Majesty.”

“Hey! Don’t mock me, Captain Jo! I’ll have you beheaded!” Gon shouted at the closed door, pointing an accusing finger as if it was the door that was the traitor, and not the man behind it.

“You’ll still have to wait for me!” Yeong shouted back, his voice getting fainter and fainter, which Gon assumed meant he was going off to get ready.

Well, fine. Keep your secrets, Jo Yeong. Keep your mystery apartment and your post-shower look to yourself. Gon didn’t care.

He was going to see Taeeul. He had to focus on that.

***

It wasn’t all the time, but sometimes Yeong couldn’t help thinking that maybe Shinjae had made a perfect assessment of Gon’s character.

He really was an asshole.

‘Oh Yeong-ah, how would you like to hurry your ass up and come with me to see my girlfriend who I can’t stop thinking about even though you’re buck naked and we originally agreed to meet at 1:00PM, instead of half-past fucking ten?’

Of course Yeong wasn’t going to be ready! Did Gon really lack that many critical thinking skills?

But of course, he was in love. And Yeong knew firsthand just how inconvenient that was when you were trying to think rationally.

He’d be a hypocrite if he was going to start holding that against Gon, when the list of irrational decisions he’d made out of love for that man was far longer than Yeong cared to admit. His guardian angel must look down on him in disappointment, for all the times he’d nearly thrown his life away for Lee Gon, and Lee Gon’s wellbeing, and Lee Gon’s happiness.

Perhaps he had thrown his life away. Perhaps that’s what being Captain of the Royal Guard meant.

Or perhaps not, as all his predecessors had managed to move on just fine, making new lives for themselves with wives and children, and no hint of their previous job meaning anything more to them than just being a job. A way to make money, to earn a living.

Yeong’s job had never been just a job. It had always meant everything to him, to be the one person in the world tasked with looking after Lee Gon, with protecting him no matter what.

What greater declaration of love was there, than to give your life and soul to making sure the one you loved was safe and happy?

Actually declaring your love, he supposed. But it wasn’t like that was an option.

Gon made sure to make that exceptionally clear when they arrived at Taeeul’s place, as he greeted her with the longest, most passionate kiss Yeong had ever seen, wrapping her in his arms with so much force he nearly knocked her off balance.

And to think Yeong had wondered if maybe Gon’s new intimacy with him had meant something. It obviously hadn’t. The three of them on Taeeul’s doorstep were a tricycle, and he was most certainly the third wheel.

He tried to peer in the door to catch a glimpse of Shinjae, but he was nowhere to be seen. Where was his partner in pining when he needed him? Heck, even Eunseob would do! Anyone but their Royal Majesties, the King and Queen of PDA!

“H-hi,” Taeeul stuttered, still in shock after she and Gon had tried to cannibalise each other’s faces, “I wasn’t expecting you for a while.” She looked at Gon, and then looked to Yeong, who hoped the disgust was clear on his face as she greeted him with a self-conscious “Hi Yeong.”

A nod of his head was all the greeting Taeeul got in return. Nice words were for people who weren’t disgusting.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Gon said, with no hint of embarrassment about the stunt he just pulled, “but I couldn’t help but take us here early, because I missed you so much and I couldn’t wait any longer. I hope that’s ok.”

“It’s fine,” she breathed, trying to collect herself again. “It’s nice to know you were thinking about me, this time.”

Gon stiffened, and shuffled closer to Taeeul, and further away from Yeong. “I’m always thinking about you, I promise,” he whispered, just loud enough that Yeong could hear.

“Come on, you lovesick asshole,” she chided, her message ruined immeasurably by the smile on her face, “quit it with the sweet words. Yeong probably feels left out.”

How oddly perceptive of her. In a sense, that was exactly it.

“Where’s Shinjae?” Yeong asked, deftly steering the subject away from Taeeul and Gon and feelings. “Wasn’t he staying with you?”

“Oh!” She laughed a little, mouth contorting into an unruly, wide smile at the thought of her friend. “He’s not here right now, he’s working with Eunseob on the surprise we were planning for you two. I’ll text him when we get inside to hurry up.”

Great. His ally was off conspiring with his only other ally, leaving him to suffer at the hands of Taeeul and Gon.

As Taeeul led them inside, texting Shinjae as they walked, Yeong prayed that they weren’t far away, and that they’d make it to Taeeul’s soon. He didn’t know how long he was going to make it without them.

“Sorry it’s such a mess,” Taeeul said, brushing aside an old ice lolly wrapper as she fell back onto her sofa, the same one on which Yeong had spent his unbearably uncomfortable night. He suddenly became aware of the pain in his chest again, as if it, too, remembered. Gon sat down next to her, leaning into her side, and Yeong was hyper-aware of all the points of contact between their bodies, grimacing as he pushed down the urge to tear her off him, to make sure his King wasn’t being touched in a way he wasn’t comfortable with. But of course, Taeeul was his girlfriend, and he was never going to be uncomfortable with her. Gon had initiated the contact. It was fine.

Yeong didn’t know what to do with himself. Would it be weird to sit next to them? Would it be more weird to sit somewhere else? As Gon’s guard, was he expected to stand?

Gon’s gaze flicked over to Yeong, stuck staring into space as he weighed up his options. Yeong met his eyes, and Gon understood instantly. He gave Yeong a warm smile that threatened to melt Yeong’s fragile heart there and then, and patted the space on the sofa on his other side, motioning for Yeong to come and join them.

Alright. Sitting with Mr. and Mrs. Disgusting it was.

“So,” Taeeul started, after Yeong came to join them, “how’s life been in the Kingdom? Aside from you missing me, of course.”

“Well, Yeongie here went on his first ever date,” Gon said, wrapping his arm around Yeong’s shoulders and getting him to face Taeeul, all the while beaming at him with joyful satisfaction.

“Oh, you mentioned that! You were setting him up with someone, weren’t you? How did it go?”

There was a mischievous glint in Taeeul’s eyes that didn’t sit right with Yeong. Who was Taeeul to be getting excited about Yeong’s love life, as if she wasn’t the person who had sent it crashing to the ground?

“First of all,” Yeong clarified, “it was not my first ever date, Lee Gon. I’ve been on dates before, I just never told you about them because they didn’t lead to anything.”

The first part was true, and the second part too, to an extent. Years ago, he had been on a personal mission to become more sure in his sexuality, so he had met up with with countless guys, trying to figure out what he liked in a man, and what he liked in the bedroom. All of it was fruitless – at the end of the day, none of them could match up to the majesty of Lee Gon – but that wasn’t why he didn’t tell Gon. That reason, of course, was because the string of dates and hookups were with men.

Gon stared at him, a picture of shock and hurt and betrayal, but Yeong continued anyway.

“Secondly, it was fine, but we just decided to stay friends. There wasn’t any spark between us.”

Done. No more questions, please.

Taeeul had her detective face on. That was not a good sign.

“Jo Yeong,” she wondered, narrowing her eyes at Yeong, “don’t you normally call him ‘Your Majesty?’”

Shit. Shit –

It wasn’t the other guards, it wasn’t the palace staff he had to be worried about when calling Gon by his name. It was Jeong fucking Taeeul, sticking her nose in and poking things that did not want to be poked!

Yeong looked at Gon, praying he didn’t look at all red or flustered at the thought of when it was that Gon had given him that privilege. Gon was pursing his lips, and looking as uncomfortable as Yeong felt.

Why was Gon uncomfortable? He didn’t know the half of what was racing through Yeong’s mind, all he knew was that he was being a good friend!

Did Gon regret it, asking Yeong to call him by his name? Did he regret those moments they’d shared together in his bed, now that Taeeul was there?

“I gave him permission,” Gon said, stealing back the conversation from the pits of awkwardness with his trademark Lee Gon smile, “I didn’t think it was fair that the rest of you got to use my name, and he didn’t.”

Yeong nodded solemnly, incredibly grateful that he didn’t have to say a word.

“I see,” she said, still eyeing Yeong with suspicion. “Lucky Yeong. He must be the only person in the Kingdom to have that honour.”

“He is,” Gon confirmed, looking at Yeong with a sort of warm pride, as if being able to call Gon by his name was something Yeong had gone out and earned, instead of something Gon had decided to bestow upon him. “What can I say? He deserves it.”

“Yeah. I’m sure,” Taeeul agreed, in the most cold way she could manage.

Did Yeong do something? Had he glared at her too much?

What was with all this suspicion and animosity?

“Well!” Gon declared, changing the subject as he got up, leaving Yeong sitting with his love-nemesis by himself, “Sorry, you don’t mind if I use your bathroom, do you?”

“Go ahead,” Taeeul said with a smile, rolling her eyes, “it’s better than you pissing yourself on my furniture.”

“Right. Yes. Don’t you two try anything, while I’m gone.” Gon pointed to Yeong and Taeeul, mock accusation gracing his features. “I know you’re going to date more people, Yeong-ah, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t start with my girlfriend.”

With that, he turned and left, softly chuckling to himself as he turned round and gave them one last wink.

Leaving Yeong alone. With Taeeul.

“Gosh, he’s annoying,” Taeeul sighed, sinking down into the sofa and throwing her head back. “How do you put up with him?”

Yeong laughed, a short, pained laugh that was more at the absurdity of the situation than anything else. You couldn’t make up someone who was in love with Gon asking him a question to which the answer was ‘being in love with Gon.’

“You learn to live with it, after putting up with him for twenty-six years,” he told her, hoping that response was emotionless enough. “Shouldn’t you be learning that skill, if you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him?”

Taeeul twirled a lock of hair in her finger, and turned away from Yeong, ever so slightly.

Had that question hit a nerve?

“Who says I’m going to be spending my life with him?” she eventually said, not making any attempt to look at Yeong as she said it. “We’re just dating, nobody said anything about a future together.”

“Gon seems to think you’re going to get married.”

Taeeul looked at him then, conflict and confusion dancing in her bright eyes.

“Did he say that?” she asked, glancing at the doorway Gon had just gone through.

“Words to that effect. Several times.” He paused. “More like several times a day.”

“I see.”

“Do you… not want that?” Yeong questioned, unable to ignore the little glimmer of hope that had just started dancing inside his heart.

“I never said that. I just – sometimes I’m not sure what I want, you know? Sometimes I don’t even know if I’m the best fit for him.”

“He loves you.” Yeong didn’t know why he was saying that. Maybe to remind himself that at the end of the day, any hope he might have was pointless, because even if he didn’t love Taeeul, which he definitely did, he would never fall in love with Yeong.

“He does,” she agreed, “but is that enough? You can love someone and not really be compatible. You can love someone, and still have no idea what to do with your relationship, because he has all these great plans for your future, but you just want to stay right where you are.”

“I think,” Yeong mused, “if you love each other enough, you’ll find a way to make it work. Love is a feeling, but it’s also an action, and if you really wanted to make a future together, you’d both be more than happy to make a few sacrifices and to meet in the middle for each other, because you’d end up happy anywhere if you had each other.”

“Huh. Who knew you were so wise in the ways of love, Jo Yeong?” she asked, to no one in particular. “Can you give me some advice then? What would you do if Gon was your boyfriend?”

Yeong could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

Did – did Taeeul just ask him what he though she just asked?

Was this some kind of cosmic test?

He wanted to lie, but he wouldn’t know what to say even if he tried. Taeeul was being vulnerable with him, more honest than she’d ever been before, and it felt wrong to brazenly lie to her face.

Then, Yeong supposed, he would have to tell her the truth.

Who would it hurt, anyway? She’d just take it as advice, not as evidence of his burning desire to call Lee Gon his own.

“Well,” he said, wondering where on Earth to start, “the thing I’d be aware of the most is that despite being King, Gon is just a person too. He’s used to taking charge, to appearing as this pillar of strength and power, has been doing that since he was eight years old, but he can’t do that all the time. I’d make sure I was there for him outside of the role of the monarchy, as someone he could relax and be himself around, without worrying about what his country would think. He never got to be a child, so I’d let him show his childish side, and my heart would burst with how much I cherished him when that happened, instead of berating him for it.

“Of course, I’d shower him with gifts, with little tokens of my appreciation, but the gift I’d give him most would be my time and affection. Although flowers are nice, he’s already got all the material possessions he could ever want, and I know deep down what he wants is connection. Both of us, we’ve – we’ve never had many people that have wanted to really get to know us, so more than anything I’d give him understanding, and would make little gestures, like knowing his coffee order, or remembering to point out the little spot of shaving foam he always misses, just underneath his jaw, to show that I know him on a level that very few people do. I think he would find comfort in that, in being able to feel truly known, because it would mean I knew both the best and worst of him, and everything in-between, and I loved him for all of it.

“I’d take him places, too. I’d find new, fascinating sights to show him, just to see the sparkle in his eyes he has when he gets inspired. We have a whole, endless supply of worlds, now, too, so that should be easy. I’d try and take him out to every one, allowing the both of us to really, truly get lost in the background, with no worries about public image, so we could finally be tourists without being on a diplomatic venture, surrounded by cameras and unfamiliar dangers. Even without that, though, I think I’d at least manage to give him different experiences – there’s whole fanfictions about the things we could get up to together, and I’d want to make each one of those stories come true for him, so he could live each day as if he was in a fairytale, because that’s what he deserves. He deserves the whole world and more, so that’s what I would give him if he was my boyfriend, and that’s what I hope you would give him too, because he actually loves you.”

Yeong had to close his eyes, to quell the prickling of tears that were threatening to spill out.

He… he had not meant to say all that, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. His heart’s desires had been beaten down so much that they’d take any chance they got to come and show their face to the world.

When Seungah had first asked, he hadn’t said half that much, before he had completely broken down. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments, and he was relieved he wasn’t repeating it with Gon’s girlfriend, of all people.

Why, he asked himself, was he even helping her?

Maybe he was just trying to make sure Gon was happy. Maybe he was trying to show Taeeul how much he cared about Gon, so she would realise she needed to step up her game, or leave.

Maybe he was just a mess, and needed someone to listen to him, and give him a hug, and tell him it was all going to work out ok.

Taeeul stayed silent a while, considering Yeong’s words, before finally saying, “You’ve thought about that a lot, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” He couldn’t exactly start lying to her now.

“Yeong,” she reached out a hand, “I –”

“I though I told you two not to try anything?”

Yeong and Taeeul both turned to look at Gon. Yeong bit his lip, clamping down hard so the flash of pain would distract himself from the way his heart felt like it was about to shatter, seeing Gon again so soon after pouring out his soul.

“We were just talking,” Taeeul told him, as he sat back down between them. “Something tells me I might not be Yeong’s type, anyway.”

Yeong shot her a look, that he hoped said something like ‘If you say another word, or even think another thought along those lines, I will not hesitate to end your miserable little life in a way that is slow and painful.’

“Oh, no one seems to be Yeong’s type these days,” Gon lamented, leaning back into the sofa and resting his arms above his head. “It’s ok that you’re not, though, that means I get to keep you all to myself, no competition.”

As Gon said this, Yeong heard a jangle of keys as Shinjae opened the door to the flat. Ironic, really. Here was Gon’s competition.

“We’re here!” Shinjae called, as he made his way over to the living room, holding a plastic bag with some boxes inside.

Eunseob followed swiftly after him, excitedly exclaiming, “And we have the surprises!”

“Boys!” Taeeul cried as she got up to greet them both with hugs, still lingering a little on Shinjae’s, even though it had been over a week since whatever had happened at the care centre.

Shinjae’s face lit up just the same as it did last time. He must have had an amazing week.

“Ok,” Taeeul said, clasping her hands together, “Gon, Yeong, we thought if you were going to be coming here often like you did before, you’d need some way of contacting us again, so –”

“We bought you some phones!” Eunseob finished, cutting in front of Taeeul and taking the two boxes out of Shinjae’s carrier bag. As he handed them out, one to Gon, and one to Yeong, he explained, “We’ve already set them up with our contacts, and any accounts you might need to buy apps or whatever, and I’ve made a group chat now with all of us on it, including Nari, of course, so if you come early again, you can just text us instead of showing up unannounced!”

Yeong opened the box, examining the phone inside. It wasn’t quite as top-of-the-range as his phone back in Corea, but that was only to be expected. It unlocked straight away – Eunseob must have set it to his face ID, which Yeong quickly disabled and replaced with a password, not wanting to repeat his past mistakes with lack of security. In the contacts of the phone, there was a short list of just Jeong Taeeul, Jo Eunseob, Kang Shinjae, Myeong Nari, and Lee Gon, which Yeong changed to ‘Gon <3’ to match his other phone.

It wasn’t really necessary, but it felt like it was the right thing to do for his own mental wellbeing. It always made his heart swell with joy to see that contact name pop up.

Then, he checked the messaging app, where sure enough there was a group chat named ‘Awesome Inter-Universe Travellers!’ with every member of their group on it.

Huh. Eunseob must have told Nari the truth. Now both Seungahs knew.

He didn’t get time to check any more, before Shinjae put a hand over the screen, and whispered, “Don’t look now. We have an extra surprise to show you later.”

Well come on, Kang Shinjae, now he really wanted to have a closer look!

But he didn’t, of course. He couldn’t, not with Shinjae staring at him and watching his every move.

“They’re pay-as-you-go,” Taeeul informed them, “because we thought that would probably be better value for money, if you weren’t going to be here that much. It also means I can demand the money directly from you, instead of having it come out of my pockets every month when you two can definitely cover it between you.

A notification came through for a message on the group chat from Gon.

CHAT: Awesome Inter-Universe Travellers!

Gon <3:

Thank you so much for the phones, everyone

Gon <3:

ヽ (* ＾ω＾ *) ﾉ

Gon did his best attempt at that emoticon in real life, and this time Yeong’s heart really did melt into a little puddle on the floor. God, he was so cute sometimes it was unbearable!

Taeeul didn’t realise how lucky she was, to be dating him. How had their topic of conversation earlier even come about, how could she have possibly had any doubts about their relationship when Gon was out there just being perfect?

Shinjae was trying to stifle a laugh, as he looked at Yeong. Shit, were these thoughts showing on his face?

“So now what?” Eunseob asked, “Gon, Yeongie, you’re the guests here – what did you guys want to do?”

“I wanted to see my Taeeul,” Gon said, leaning over and clinging onto Taeeul’s arm, “and I wanted to do whatever she wanted to do.”

“Maybe you and I could visit another world, if you wanted to do something together,” Taeeul offered, glancing at Yeong and smiling in what Yeong thought might be an apology. “There’s lots of different worlds now, right? We could go and experience the magic, live the fairytale?”

Oh you cruel, cruel bitch. You could have at least waited until Yeong was out of earshot to blatantly plagiarise his dreams.

“That sounds perfect.” Gon softly kissed Taeeul in appreciation of the idea, and Yeong wanted nothing more than to scream from the heavens that the idea was his.

Taeeul got a kiss, because he thought she wanted to do that.

It should have been Yeong, getting the kiss.

It should have been him.

It should have been him, but Gon would never know.

Once again, his life was a cosmic joke of astronomical proportions. At this point, he wasn’t even surprised.

Yeong gripped his phone tightly in a last ditch attempt to focus on something, anything, that might tie him to reality and keep him sane. His knuckles went white with the strain, but he hardly noticed. The phone could snap in two for all he cared.

Fuck this. He was going to move on soon anyway. Taeeul could have his dreams, he didn’t fucking care. She could have them, and she could live them, and Yeong was totally fucking happy to give them all away so Gon could have the chance to appreciate his efforts, one way or another.

He was going to make new dreams. It was fine. Completely fine. He wasn’t hurt at all, because he was fucking happy for them or whatever.

In fact, he was going to tell Taeeul as such.

CHAT: You and Jeong Taeeul

You:

Enjoy your fairytale. Look out for the sparkle in his eyes I told you about – if you’re looking for it, you won’t miss it.

You:

I hope it goes without saying, but don’t say a word to Gon about our conversation. He might get the wrong idea from it, and that’s the last thing I want. Don’t you get the wrong idea either. I was only offering advice as Gon’s friend, and I’ve only thought about what he might like in a partner because I want the best for him, as a friend. No other reason, so don’t start going and inventing any.

You:

Go and give him the world, Jeong Taeeul. That man deserves it more than anyone.

Yeong shut off his phone with far more aggression than was necessary. By the time he’d finished texting Taeeul, she and Gon were well on their way out of the door, already dressed up in their coats and shoes.

Good for them. All ready to go off and make each other happy.

He didn’t bother offering them a wave goodbye. He didn’t know if he could stomach it, so he turned away, and tried to be invisible. As one of many Royal Guards, he was pretty good at fading into the background when he wanted to.

A sudden force came at him from behind, followed by strong, familiar arms wrapping around his body, taking his breath away in more ways than one.

Lee Gon. Of course he would notice him anyway.

“Yeong-ah,” he whispered, his voice both soothing and reminiscent of a divine mockery, “Are you ok? You seem upset.”

Oh, Gon. Oh, Lee Gon, couldn’t you just leave him alone, without going to open that can of worms?

“I’m fine,” Yeong lied, swallowing back the sob he could feel building in his throat.

“Are you sure? I won’t leave if you’re not ok, and if that’s the case then I want to stay with you, Taeeul be damned, so don’t you dare lie to me to make me feel better.”

“I’m fine,” Yeong asserted again, telling himself more than Gon to try and trick his body into maintaining composure, “really, I am. Go and have fun with Taeeul, and don’t worry about me. Maybe you could make this into a weekly thing, going to the other worlds. That way you might eventually see them all.”

“That’s a great idea,” Gon soothed, gently tracing lines up and down Yeong’s arm.

“Why are you still here?” Yeong asked, after Gon had hovered near him for more than a split-second. “Taeeul is waiting for you. Go.”

“Right. Of course.” Gon took his arms back from around Yeong’s shivering torso, leaving it feeling cold and bare and definitively alone.

Yeong hardly noticed Gon go back to the love of his life and leave for some unknown world. He was far more focused on trying not to crumble into a sobbing heap in front of Eunseob and Shinjae, wiping away traitorous tears as soon as they reached his eyes.

He was Captain Jo Yeong, the Unbreakable Sword. He was unbreakable. He would not let this break him.

“You look like you need cheering up,” Eunseob noted, coming and sitting by his side. “Do you want to see the last part of your surprise?”

“The thing Shinjae was talking about?” Yeong asked, unlocking his phone and covering the screen so Eunseob couldn’t see the password, before flicking through the pages of apps. “I’m assuming it’s on the phone, because he stopped me from looking at it, but –” One particular app caught his eye.

A small white flame, on a pink and orange background.

Oh, they hadn’t –

“You fucking put me on Tinder?” Yeong exclaimed, unable to draw his gaze away from that mocking little flame. “Was that the extra surprise?”

“I… um… I thought it would be a good way to find you someone else,” Eunseob admitted, suddenly not as cheery as before. “Look, though –” he clicked on the app, and brought up Yeong’s profile “– didn’t we do a good job of making this look good? I gelled my hair like yours and everything, just to get the pictures right. You look very handsome, Nari said so.”

The profile was the stuff of nightmares. The pictures were all way too cheesy, and painfully obviously staged, and the text –

Yeong, 30

My job may make me look tough, but don’t let that fool you! I’m a big softie at heart, and I’m looking for someone to share that heart with. If you’re looking for a man who will sweep you off your feet, while also being your best friend that you can laugh at cheesy movies with, or snuggle with on a cold day (my muscular arms make me a great hugger), then I’m your guy!

“It’s awful!” Yeong complained, unable to believe the pile of stinking horse shit before his eyes. “This isn’t me at all, and even if it was, it’s still objectively awful! No one’s going to swipe right on this!”

“Yeong,” Shinjae chided, “don’t be so harsh. Eunseob put a lot of work into this.”

“Yeah. You really need to learn to think before you say such mean things. Maybe I should have put that on your profile, to scare the boys off.” Eunseob crossed his arms and pouted, looking up at Yeong with wide, puppy-like eyes.

Yeong made a mental note to try the puppy-eyes more often, if they worked this goddamn well on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, “It’s great, Eunseob. Thank you for putting so much effort into this.”

“Aw, you’re welcome Yeongie!” And suddenly, he was back to normal? Was he even sad at all?

“Alright cool that’s out of the way,” Shinjae said, brushing them off as an excited smile spread onto his lips, “now let’s look at some guys!”

He reached over Yeong’s arm to touch the screen, directing Yeong to where you looked for potential matches.

A man named Park Yubin came up first. He was a slight man, the polar opposite to Yeong’s muscular build, with bright eyes, and even brighter dyed purple hair, and –

“Nope,” Shinjae said, swiping left.

Next up was Min Haneul, who –

“Nope,” Shinjae said again, swiping left a second time. Then he swiped left on the next guy, and the next, and the next.

And the next, and the next, and on every poor soul who came up, all before Yeong had a chance to look at them.

“What are you even looking for?” Yeong asked, turning and staring up at Shinjae, who was entirely engrossed in his work.

“I don’t know. I’ll know it when I see it.”

“Don’t you think I would know best, considering this is for me, and I’m the only one here who actually likes men?”

“I’ll know it. When I see it.”

Yeong sighed and handed him the phone with an exasperated, “Take it, if you’re just going to do this yourself.”

He took the phone, and the left swiping continued at an alarming rate.

Did Shinjae really have time to see ‘it’ if he was swiping that fast, so that he could know it when he saw it?

“Holy shit,” Shinjae breathed, eyes widening in delight as he finally stopped on a profile. Yeong peered over to look, but Shinjae hid it from him with gleeful delight, as he just said, “This guy. This guy has it. You’re welcome in advance, Jo Yeong.”

“Show me,” Yeong ordered, craning his head in all sorts of new directions to try and get a glimpse of this man that had passed the Shinjae Test.

“You’re going to love me forever,” Shinjae boldly claimed, as he turned the phone around and revealed the smiling face of Lee Gon.

Yeong snatched the phone out of his hand to look closer, because surely, surely it was too good to be true, and Gon wouldn’t be on Korean Tinder, and looking to date men.

He was right. It wasn’t Gon at all. The profile belonged to a Lee Jihun, who was in the Korean Navy.

It was Gon’s counterpart. His doppelganger.

Gon’s doppelganger was gay? Was this the universes trying to apologise for Taeeul stealing his dream?

“Woah,” Eunseob marvelled, looking over Yeong’s shoulder, “Is that Gon in this world? That’s brave, putting on here that he’s in the navy, even when you can’t be gay in the military.”

“Sorry, what?” Yeong’s attention was torn away from alternate Gon for just a second, because what the hell – “Is it… illegal to be gay in the military here?”

Eunseob slowly nodded, actively avoiding eye contact with Yeong. “Mmmyeah. That’s sorta the law – but it’s not like it’s something they can totally police properly, so it’s not impossible to do. I mean, Jihun seems to be doing ok!”

That did nothing to ease Yeong’s growing feelings of shock and horror at all. “In 2020? You’re going to be telling me you don’t have gay marriage next.”

Eunseob nodded again.

“Christ, your country is backwards,” Yeong groaned, rubbing his eyes in abject disappointment. “Gon gave us all this years ago, we got gay marriage before I even realised I liked men – do you really not have anything at all?”

“At least it’s legal?” Eunseob offered, flashing Yeong an awkward smile.

“Sorry,” Shinjae interjected, leaning over far into Yeong’s personal space, “did you say Gon gave the Kingdom gay marriage?”

“He introduced a lot of laws for LGBT rights. It was one of the first big things he did as King – he fought for it so hard the government couldn’t say no, and so we became one of the first countries to do it. I guess that’s a benefit of having a millenial king who has the final say in lawmaking.”

“And you’re still convinced he’s straight?” Shinjae raised his eyebrows, looking at Yeong in disbelief.

“Yes, I am. He is. It’s not just gay rights he’s championed; he was only being a good, mature king. That’s all. Don’t start getting any ideas.”

Shinjae shrugged. “Just saying.”

Yeong looked at the picture of Lee Jihun again, smiling up at him in his pristine navy uniform. He just saw Gon. Despite what his name badge said, he only saw Gon. The picture was even reminiscent of Yeong’s lockscreen, just without Yeong in it.

Maybe that was a sign. Maybe he was meant to go into Jihun’s life, and fill that space in the picture on his profile, where Yeong thought he should be.

It was tempting. It was really, really tempting.

“You want him, don’t you?” Shinjae asked, already knowing the answer. Of course he did. Of course he wanted this Gon-but-not-Gon, of course he wanted this man who looked identical to the man in all his wildest fantasises.

The universes had given him Gon, but gay, on a silver platter. How was he meant to turn that down?

He couldn’t turn it down. Despite his head telling him it was probably a bad idea, it was his heart today that held the reins, and if he had lost his dreams to Taeeul, he could at least have the next best thing.

In one sure movement, Yeong swiped right, and hoped with all his being that the universes would be kind enough to let them match.

***

Taeeul’s idea was perfect. Despite their gruelling experience in the other worlds trying to find the Republic of Korea the first time around, taking the time to properly immerse oneself in another universe, for no purpose other than enjoyment, made Gon’s heart sing.

How often could he experience this level of escapism from his day-to-day life? How often could he be just another face on the street, without worrying about the constant threat of regicide, or the perhaps even more stressful threat of the consequences of failing to maintain the perfect mask of the perfect young king?

He was lucky to be able to have Taeeul by his side, who always knew the perfect thing was to do, when it came down to it. Even if she didn’t know about Jogon Jogon, even if she didn’t know about Lady Noh’s insistence on meddling in his love life, she still knew exactly what he needed.

Her idea was perfect. She was perfect.

So why the fuck couldn’t he stop thinking about Yeong?

The forest they walked out of, after coming through the portal, was inhabited by masses of brightly coloured birds, and all Gon could think as they walked through was, ‘Wow, Yeong would love to stay here for hours and photograph them all.’

They passed an advert for a spicy food eating competition, and Gon thought how, if Yeong was there, they’d sign up together and challenge each other, and Yeong would persevere despite being terrible with spice, because he was the Unbreakable Sword, and would never back down from a challenge.

There were some children laughing and playing in a nearby park, and even that reminded him of Yeong, of when they were younger and Yeong was only four, and how they’d play together, and face off against imaginary monsters and demons with plastic swords, except Gon was a lot bigger than Yeong, and could run a lot faster and play a lot longer, but Yeong kept up anyway, and never wanted to stop playing, even when he was obviously exhausted.

In some respects, he hadn’t changed at all since then. He would still give Gon his all and more, even when he probably shouldn’t.

Gon smiled to himself. Dumbass Captain Jo. What would Gon do without him?

“Yeong was right,” Taeeul noted, looking up at Gon who was suddenly wrenched out of his nostalgia and back to reality, “you do get a sparkle in your eye when you’re inspired.”

“Yeong said that?”

She nodded. “Earlier on, while you were in the bathroom. He told me to look out for it.”

“Ah, jeez, he’s embarrassing,” Gon sighed, looking away to face the children again, to hide the way he couldn’t help smiling.

Yeong noticed that? His rational brain told him he should find that weird, but it didn’t feel weird at all.

It felt nice. Warm. Somehow just… right.

“He was sweet,” Taeeul laughed, nudging Gon’s side. “He’s actually a bit of a romantic – I never would have thought that by looking at him, but he’s got a big, soft, loving heart. It’s a shame his date didn’t work, because I think he’d make a great boyfriend.”

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to imply something again, Jeong Taeeul,” Gon clipped, staring his girlfriend down.

“I’m actually not this time! I’m being serious, I think you were right to encourage him to date more, because he’s going to make one lucky person very happy.”

“Like I make you happy?”

“Definitely not. He’d be a much better boyfriend than you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Aren’t I a good boyfriend?”

Taeeul shrugged, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. “It’s ok, it’s your first time. I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“It is not my first time –”

“Shh, shhh,” she comforted, rubbing his back, “I know, I know. The clutches of denial are hard to break free from, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll be here for you when you’re ready to admit the truth to yourself.”

Such potent words from Jeong Taeeul today. Gon knew she was talking about their joke, but it struck him as eerily similar to the crisis he was having this morning.

The truth. It had come to haunt him, even when he was with Taeeul, and he was fine, and he was happy.

Was it so hard for fate to just let him live an easy lie?

They kept walking, and kept idly chatting, but Gon was hardly aware of the words coming out of his or Taeeul’s mouths.

He was acutely aware of Taeeul, though. He was aware of the weight of her hand in his, of how the longer their palms were touching, the more a growing feeling of unease was building in his hand, and spreading up his arm, worming its way into his mind and his heart.

That wasn’t right, when Taeeul was his girlfriend. He shouldn’t feel any discomfort with her.

He didn’t feel any discomfort with Yeong. What was it about his Captain, about his best friend, that made him different to everyone else, different even to the woman he loved?

What was it about Yeong that meant he was all Gon could think about, even when he was with his girlfriend? What was it about him that was so addictive that meant his image was always at the forefront of Gon’s mind?

If spending time with Taeeul couldn’t get him out, just for a second, then what would? He was meant to be in love with Taeeul! He couldn’t go on like this!

He loved Taeeul. She was amazing, she was beautiful, she was strong, and genuine, and caring, and perfect. She was his Queen, and their futures were destined to be intertwined.

However.

Though he loved her, she didn’t make his heart soar. Didn’t take his breath away whenever she walked into a room. Didn’t occupy his every waking moment, lighting up his life with just a thought.

With every new second he spent with Taeeul, that undeniable truth was getting harder and harder to ignore.

He loved Taeeul, loved everything about her, cared about her with his entire heart.

He loved Taeeul… but he wasn’t in love with her. No matter how hard he tried to be.

As soon as he thought that, as soon as he let himself think that, it was like an invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Swiftly followed by a heavier one being pushed right back on.

If he wasn’t in love with Taeeul, then what? He shouldn’t keep leading her on, she deserved better than that, deserved far better than him. How could he keep them tied together, when it would end up being a strain on both of them if they just weren’t right?

He couldn’t do that to her, but what would happen if he didn’t?

Finally, after years of searching, of ignoring the possibility of being with any other women, he had found Lieutenant Jeong Taeeul. He had told Lady Noh about her, had assured her that she would be his Queen, and if he didn’t have Taeeul to fulfil that role for him, then who did he have?

There were no other women for him. That was the truth. The real truth. Even if he wasn’t in love with Taeeul, he still loved her enough to be happy with spending the rest of his life with her, with making a family with her, with showing her to his country and telling them that she’s what his heart has always yearned for.

Before he met her, he thought it had. He loved her before he met her, loved her since he was eight years old, and he first had her ID card. He had built up this great big picture in his mind of what Lieutenant Jeong Taeeul would be to him, and ever since they met for real he’d been desperately clinging onto his twenty-six year old fantasy of what their romance should look like, pulling out all the cheesy lines he’d practised in the mirror, all the gestures that had seemed like great ideas when he was fifteen years old. Sure, he’d had to make a few adjustments when he found out what she was really like, but on the whole he’d stuck to his plan, and it had worked like a dream.

Could he really give up on it all now? Could he really disappoint his eight year old self who had idolised the woman he thought had saved him, could he really disappoint his fifteen year old self who had set his heart on the girl in the picture, and refused to accept any other future for himself?

The answer was no. No he couldn’t. He had got this far, and he would see it through to the end.

He was the King. He had to make sacrifices for his country. This was no different.

So he enjoyed the rest of his time in this other world, with the woman who was going to be his Queen. He had fun when they went to an arcade, he laughed when she got ice-cream caught on the end of her nose, and at the end of the day he bought her flowers, tied up in an obnoxious pink bow.

Maybe he wasn’t in love with her, but he did love her. And that would have to be enough.

***

The mockery of the blinking cursor and the empty page was becoming one of the few constants in Gon’s life.

That used to be Yeong, but even Yeong was changing. Moving on. When they arrived back in Korea, to let Gon drop Taeeul off and pick Yeong up, he was bowled over by an overexcitable Jo Eunseob telling him how they’d signed Yeong up for online dating, and how he’d already matched with someone he really liked. Yeong was all blushy and shy, refusing to give away any details, as per usual for Yeong, but Gon could tell from the way his Captain couldn’t stop smiling the whole way home that she would be perfect for him.

He had asked for permission to use the Manpasikjeok during the week to go over to the Republic so he could text this girl, and Gon had granted it, because how could he refuse? This was what he had wanted for Yeong, for him to find his person, and he couldn’t just turn around now and say no.

Even if the thought of Yeong actually going and dating someone brought him just as little joy as it did when he went on that date with Seungah.

In fact, it wasn’t just a lack of joy that it brought him. He didn’t just feel nothing, he felt awful. Uncomfortable. A great big sense of wrong.

His Captain Jo Yeong was always by his side. That was how it had always been. He had been Yeong’s number one priority, and Yeong had been his, ever since they were kids. The thought that Yeong might not want to spend all his time with Gon anymore, instead wanting to be with this mystery girl, it filled his heart up with nothing but dread.

It was normal, right? To be worried about your friendship disappearing when your friend found a partner? To be worried they might realise that they were really only tolerating you before, now that they’d found someone they actually clicked with, and actually, truly loved.

Gon knew it was stupid. He knew Yeong wouldn’t be like that, knew Yeong would still care about him just as much as he did before he found this girl. Yeong wasn’t replacing him, he wasn’t swapping out Gon’s place in his heart, he was just expanding it to accommodate someone else.

But why did he still feel like he was being replaced? Why did he still feel betrayed?

They were still best friends, the two of them! No matter what happened! No matter who they fell in love with!

Not that Gon was probably ever going to get the chance to fall in love with someone. But that was ok. Deep down, he always knew that was going to be the case.

His country came first. He didn’t need to bother considering his feelings, because they were unimportant.

Though he still felt them. And they were impossible to completely ignore.

Perhaps he really should try opening up to his internet stranger, after all.

CHAT: You and captain_dreamland

You:

Hi, sorry it’s taken so long to get back to you. I’ve been opening and closing this chat for the past week, trying to find the words for what I wanted to say and failing every time, because I didn’t even know what it was that I wanted to say.

You:

It’s something I’ve been struggling to admit to myself, but you got it exactly right. I do have similar experience to you, I think. Technically I have a girlfriend, but it dawned on me today that although I love her, I’m not in love with her, not in the way that matters. Like you, I’m not really in a position to tell anyone that I might be anything other than heterosexual, and having a girlfriend is the perfect way to maintain the façade, but I’m feeling incredibly guilty about leading her on. She deserves better, but the thought of ending our relationship is terrifying, because right now it’s one of the only things in my life that I can use to hold onto my perfect pre-destined future. It doesn’t help that I’m an only child, and it’s up to me to keep my family bloodline going, and I’m surrounded by people that really value that, and value the idea of me having a wife, and making lots of babies with her. In that respect I suppose I’m more like Lee Gon, like you’re like Jo Yeong in the stories.

You:

Sorry if this is too much, from someone you barely know. It’s just been on my mind, and I couldn’t think of a better way to sort out my thoughts than to come here. Even if the people in my life can’t know, I figured pouring my heart out to an internet stranger under a pseudonym would be ok.

captain_dreamland:

omg hi! I almost thought I wasn’t going to hear back from you!

You:

oh god you’re online. I thought I might be able to dump my feelings and leave, without having to face them again for a while

captain_dreamland:

ashkfskj sorry about that. You caught me just as I got home and checked my phone, I didn’t realise you’d left the messages so recently. I get it completely, not wanting to face your feelings. Still, at the end of the day it’s probably a good idea, better than keeping them bottled up and pushed deep down, anyway

You:

Ah, you’re probably right

captain_dreamland:

…wow, though. I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone that was deeper in the closet than I was, but I think you’ve stolen my crown, Mr. toofargone. Maybe that’s fitting, if you’re like Lee Gon like you say.

captain_dreamland:

I’m not going to come out here and say ‘just tell everyone, don’t worry about it!!!’ because I know how it is when you’re just not in that position, but if you’re feeling guilty about being with your girlfriend, I think you should ask yourself whether keeping up your act with her is worth it. If you need to be with a woman, I’m sure there are lesbians in a similar position to you, and maybe it would be beneficial to stage a relationship with a woman like that, so that you could appear like the perfect couple to the world, and then in private you could both forge your own relationships with people you really want.

captain_dreamland:

or maybe that’s super far fetched and I’m just ripping off the plot of a webtoon I read once. Idk. It might work? Basically I think if you’re feeling guilty about being with your girlfriend now, that guilt is just going to keep growing until she suspects something is up anyway

You:

Aghhhh that’s what I’m worried about. The last thing I want is her finding out and thinking I never cared about her at all. I honestly really did think I was in love with her!!!!!

captain_dreamland:

then say that! Just be honest, I think she’d appreciate that

captain_dreamland:

pffft look at me though, pretending to be some sort of relationship guru as if I didn’t fuck mine up in the worst way possible today

You:

What did you do???????

You:

Did something happen with your Gon??????????

You:

If you came out to him and he ditched you then mark my words, I will find him and I will make him feel my wrath

captain_dreamland:

no, no, it was nothing like that, don’t worry

captain_dreamland:

I just got a bit too carried away talking to his girlfriend and accidentally opened my heart a little too much, and now, to keep a long story short, she’s using my dreams of what I wanted to do with him as date ideas. Which kinda sucks.

You:

ohhhh shit

You:

 I’m so sorry

You:

What kind of a slap in the face –

You:

Does she know how you feel about him?

captain_dreamland:

No, I don’t think so. I think she might have suspected for a little while but I tried to cover my tracks as best I could, so hopefully it’s ok. So yeah I suppose she didn’t mean anything malicious by it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to see her getting the love for something I really deserve to be getting the love for

captain_dreamland:

I’m trying to stay positive, though. Some friends that I’m out to have helped me find someone else I might be interested in, and I’m feeling surprisingly good about it, so who knows? Maybe my Lee Gon will be a thing of the past soon, and then I’ll wonder why I even fell for him in the first place

You:

Wait really?

You:

Ah, I’ve hardly started talking to you but hearing that makes me feel like this is the end of an era

You:

As a Lee Gon myself, it’s kinda sad that you’re moving on and considering other people. That’s not in any of the fanfics :(

captain_dreamland:

awwwww, I’m sure you’ll find your Yeong and make the fanfics come true

captain_dreamland:

and don’t be too disheartened, Your Majesty, my new guy is really similar to my Gon. Like REALLY similar. That’s why I’m trying it with him, because I thought if I couldn’t have Gon, I might as well have the next best thing. If Gon turned round tomorrow and told me he wanted to go out with me, I would drop everything and go for him, no hesitation. I’m only going for the new guy because I know he won’t.

You:

I guess that’s fair enough

You:

If he’s straight like you say, then it’s probably not worth investing your efforts into him, and if you’ve found someone else that you like then that’s amazing!! You’ll have to let me know how it goes with him

captain_dreamland:

Will do!

Gosh. Even this internet guy was moving on. Gon had thought that surely, surely if there was someone that would stay trapped in the past like he was, it would be his fanfic friend captain_dreamland.

He just… He just wished that things would go back to the way they were before. Before he’d gone to the Republic, before he’d met Taeeul, before he knew Lee Lim wasn’t dead. Things were so easy then. Nowhere near as complicated.

It was just him and Yeong, against the world. No girlfriends coming in and disrupting their dynamic, no dating apps in alternate dimensions, no need to worry about feelings because a lot of the time they just knew.

Yeong hadn’t even been away from his side for half an hour, and Gon already missed him. His body was crying out to be enveloped by Yeong’s embrace, to assure him that everything was going to be fine, and that nothing between them would change, and that everything. Was going. To be fine.

But to his eternal inconvenience, his traitorous mind wasn’t letting him believe it on his own. He’d behead it if he could.

In the end, he didn’t go and seek Yeong out. He didn’t want to ruin his friend’s good mood, not when he had been so over the moon about this new girl. His rational thoughts told him that Yeong wouldn’t care, and that he’d want to comfort him anyway, just like Gon had wanted to comfort him earlier, but his mind was outright refusing to think rationally.

In a last-ditch attempt to get even a little serotonin into his brain, he instead pulled up Jogon Jogon’s account, and began to read.

Chapter Text

“Jo Yeong!” Seungah all but roared, pushing past Yeong into his apartment, “What the fuck is up with His Majesty?”

Yeong turned round to face her, his expression a picture of incredulous shock as he stared at the woman now standing inside his living room. With the amount of pent-up frustration she held in her body, Yeong could easily imagine steam coming out of her ears as if she was a cartoon character.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Yeong informed her, frowning as he tried to figure out what it was she did mean. After they’d got back from Korea, as far as Yeong knew Gon had been occupied by work, as he had hardly made any effort to reach out. Just that fact hadn’t made Yeong worry – sometimes Gon got so preoccupied in his study that he wouldn’t emerge for days – but if Seungah was in his apartment, acting like this?

“You don’t know what I mean?” She ran a hand through her hair and scoffed before walking up to Yeong, putting her hands on his shoulders, and telling him in no uncertain terms, “He has been moping! Constantly! He’s been mooching around the palace like a sad little ghost, and has been spending most of his time in his study on his own reading documents on his laptop that he shuts every time I walk in, and then he just looks at me with big puppy eyes and tells me to leave him be! And that’s all well and good for him, but I’m the one that Lady Noh has tasked with getting him to actually do shit, and it is impossible! So let me ask you again – what is up with him?”

“I – I don’t know,” Yeong admitted, unable to hold Seungah’s harsh gaze. “I’m sorry, I just thought he was working.”

“Well think, Jo Yeong! You’re closer to him than I am, what do you think it could be?”

“Maybe Taeeul said something?” Yeong offered, not really believing the words coming out of his mouth. The timing seemed to fit; if Gon’s mood had started from when he had stopped talking to Yeong, then it would have started roughly when they got back from Korea. It fit, so it could easily be that, but it just didn’t feel right. If anyone knew how in love Gon and Taeeul were, it was him, and he was certain that Jeong Taeeul could do no wrong in Gon’s eyes.

After all, if Gon could see her flaws, Yeong liked to tell himself, he would have broken up with her months ago.

No, it wasn’t Taeeul, so what else could it be?

“Wasn’t Taeeul his girlfriend?” Seungah asked, a hint of a smile creeping onto her lips.

“Yes,” Yeong confirmed, “she – hang on. Why are you smiling?”

“If their relationship is failing then you know what that means!” She sidled up to him, nudging his side a little too harshly for his still-recovering chest to take comfortably, causing his breath to catch with the pain.

Still, Yeong tried his best to remain deadpan as he guessed, “He’s going to be even more unbearable when he talks about her?”

“No, stupid. It means ‘Operation Make Jo Yeong Prince Consort’ is back on!”

‘Operation Make Jo Yeong Prince Consort?’ What the–

“That was never a thing.”

“It was! And it has Lady Noh’s support, and the support of at least half of the palace staff – and before you ask, no, I haven’t told them anything about you or your feelings, I’m not that awful of a friend, I’ve just happened to overhear a lot of conversations about you two and then also happened to butt into those conversations and put forward the idea.”

“Were any of those people in the Royal Guard?” Yeong asked, not knowing what he wanted the answer to that question to be. There were pros and mostly cons either way.

“A couple. After our ‘date’” – she made the shape of inverted commas with her fingers and stuck her tongue out as she said the word ‘date’ – “there’s been a bit of discussion amongst your subordinates about you and your love life. Inyeong, for whatever reason, is convinced you and I would make a great couple, but Hopil is sure that you’d rather be with His Majesty. I think they’ve bet good money on who you’ll end up with.”

Oh, when he got back to work he was going to kill them. Get Gon to behead them, or something.

Or at least give them all the jobs that no one else wanted to do, even if they were the next most senior guards after himself.

Betting on your boss’ love life? Really? This was meant to be the prestigious Corean Royal Guard!

“Well,” Yeong said, trying to be calm but coming off scathing anyway, “both of them are wrong, because I don’t want either option.”

“Jo Yeong,” Seungah started, “you don’t mean –”

“I have found someone else.” He hesitated. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Seungah looked a picture of hurt confusion, and it almost made Yeong wonder if his new plan was a good idea.

Almost. He knew that it was, or at least that it was better than hoping for a miracle with his real ideal man.

“I… may be talking to someone. From the other world. And this someone may be Gon’s counterpart. In that world. So not actually him, but very damn close.”

“Jo Yeong you sneaky little – that’s genius! Date this guy, make His Majesty jealous as he sees himself with you and he sees how happy you are, then that makes him realise that being with you would make him way happier than being with his girlfriend, so he leaves her and confesses his feelings for you and then you can spend your lives together as it was always meant to be!”

“What?” Yeong spluttered, “No, Gon’s not going to find out. At least, not until he and I are in a committed relationship and I feel comfortable enough to first of all come out to Gon, and then introduce him to the idea that I am dating someone who looks exactly like him.”

When he put it like that, dating Jihun sounded like far worse of an idea than he’d originally thought. Gon would have to find out. How the hell would Yeong be able to rationalise getting into a relationship with someone that was basically him?

‘Hey, Gon, my buddy, my pal, my platonic best friend who I have never once had feelings for because you’re straight and I’m not a sad creep, I just so happen to be in a relationship with someone who looks like you in every way. Because we’re together, you may have to watch yourself kiss me, and you will have the knowledge that we will be doing far more than that behind closed doors. Don’t worry though, I definitely never would have dreamed of doing any of that with you.’

He was an idiot. A massive stupid idiot. If you looked up ‘idiot’ in the dictionary you’d be met with a picture of Jo Yeong’s stupid face.

And yet even this plan was still better than his life plan of a couple of weeks ago, of just being happy with pining after Gon forever. How sad was that?

“His Majesty isn’t going to find out?” Seungah exclaimed, a frown crossing her features, “Yeong, as your friend and relationship coach, allow me to tell you that that is a wasted opportunity to get yourself the real deal.”

“The real deal is straight. He’s not an option. It’s fine to joke around, but at the end of the day, it’s just not going to happen. My plan is a good plan, even if only because it means I’m looking for someone who might actually love me back. The guy – Jihun, his name is – he likes me. How can I let that go for a fantasy?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Seungah flopped backwards onto his sofa, dramatically resting her arm across her face in mock faint. “Still sad though. Does this mean you’re not going to help me with my fics anymore?”

Yeong laughed to himself, hanging his head to hide his smile. Of course that’s what she was worried about.

“I might be able to help you more if I’m actually getting some action.”

“You’re right!” She jumped up and pointed at him with a grin, past apathy forgotten. “And maybe I can use the whole jealousy shtick in my next one, and then you can guide me through the sweet, passionate lovemaking at the end!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. If that’s going to be your next one, I don’t think I’ll be able to guide you that quickly.”

“Still! Oh Yeong, you need to tell me everything about this alternate Gon.” She grinned, and Yeong broke into a small smile too, the knowledge that she had his back a welcome assurance that he was doing the right thing.

You know what, Mr. Unbreakable Sword?” Seungah asserted, “I think this is going to be the best fic yet.”

***

For about the hundredth time that day, Gon wondered how he could be such a terrible friend.

He had meant to see Yeong. Call Yeong. At least text Yeong, but a mysterious resistive force had stopped him every time.

‘Don’t do it Gon, he’d prefer to text mystery girl instead.’

‘Don’t do it Gon, you’ll only put a dampener on his good mood.’

‘Don’t do it Gon, or you’ll have to explain to him why you’re feeling like crap, and you don’t even know the answer yourself, but you do know it’s to do with Yeong and his new infatuation.’

He needed a sign. Something. Anything. Or at least someone with whom he could talk his feelings out, but there was no one he could confide in that knew the whole story, no one to whom he wouldn’t have to come clean about some things he’d really like to keep hidden.

He could say anything about his feelings to captain_dreamland, but his internet friend didn’t know he was the real Lee Gon, and his status as King was something that really complicated his situation.

He could talk to Lady Noh, but he wasn’t in the mood to go over all the details of the other world and the reset timeline, and he definitely wasn’t in the mood to have her picking apart his relationship with Taeeul, especially not when he was losing faith in it himself with every passing second.

Normally, he would talk to Yeong, but there was no way Yeong could find out about how he was feeling. Even if he wasn’t instinctually happy for him, Gon was going to do everything he could to act as pleased as possible, and as proud as he could be of his best friend.

That’s what Yeong needed. That’s what Yeong deserved.

A flash of light snapped Gon out of his thoughts. It was his phone screen lighting up with a new notification, and Gon snatched it up to read and to see if maybe it was Yeong trying to talk to him, because hey, it would be fine to take Yeong’s attention if Yeong was the one that asked in the first place.

It wasn’t Yeong.

But it was arguably the next best thing – a new work from his newfound guilty pleasure, Jogon Jogon.

If anything was going to take his mind off his growing list of problems, it was whatever wild fantasy they had come up with.

A smile began to spread onto his lips as he let his mind and body relax, and he tapped on the notification, and began to read the summary.

I remember when you only had eyes for me by Jogon Jogon

Summary: After fifteen long years of pining, Jo Yeong decides it’s finally time to move on from Lee Gon. The King is straight, after all, and has a girlfriend who doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere any time soon. However, as Yeong finally plucks up the courage to tell His Majesty about his new partner, his reaction frankly isn’t what either of them expected.

King Lee Gon wouldn’t be jealous… right?

aka me being totally self-indulgent and writing Gon as the jealous one for once, because it’s Yeong’s turn to make HIM suffer >:D

‘King Lee Gon wouldn’t be jealous… right?’

Right.

Right?

Was that what he was feeling? Was that why he couldn’t stand the thought of Yeong spending time with someone who wasn’t him?

Surely it couldn’t be. There was a clear difference between himself and fictional-Gon, and that was that fictional-Gon was actually in love with Yeong. Real-Gon wasn’t in love with Yeong, they were friends! He felt exactly the same way towards his Captain as he had done for the past – well, for as long as he could remember!

If he was jealous, which he wasn’t, then it would have to be because he envied Yeong for being able to be with someone he could fall in love with, and fall out of love with, and he envied his freedom to be able to tell her that without jeopardising the future of an entire country.

There. That was a reasonable explanation.

Oh Lee Gon, he thought to himself as he settled down to read the fic, you are good.

Gon was going to behead Jogon Jogon.

Why did they have to make him suffer?

The whole time, the whole damn fic, he was internally screaming at his fictional counterpart to just go and talk to Yeong, because surely he knew in his heart that Yeong loved him back, surely he could tell when it was his best friend, and he was giving him sorrowful looks, even when he was with that asshole Seo Cheolmin!

Ok, so Yeong’s new boyfriend wasn’t exactly written as an asshole. He was actually a really decent guy, a decorated naval officer who evidently really cared for Yeong, but he was automatically an asshole because he got in the way of Gonj–

No, Lee Gon. No.

What the hell was he doing?

Since when was he so invested in fictional-Gon being with fictional-Yeong?

He had spent far, far too long cooped up in his study, with only Jogon Jogon for company.

Perhaps he should take his advice for fictional-Gon, and actually go and talk to Yeong. The real Yeong.

As he was gazing listlessly out of his study window earlier, he had seen Yeong head out with the Manpasikjeok towards the forest, and he hadn’t seen him return, so he was probably still out there. Still talking to his mystery girl.

It wouldn’t be selfish if Gon went and waited for him by the portal site, right? He had been giving Yeong enough space, so really it was about time he claimed some bro time with his best friend.

With that thought in mind, he stood up with a dramatic flourish that he was both pleased and disappointed that no one was there to see, and headed out towards the forest, towards the portal, and towards Yeong.

When he reached the site where the portal should be, he was surprised to find that it was still there, twin obelisks glowing orange, illuminating the clearing with their pale light.

The rational part of his mind said that he should stick to his original plan and wait for Yeong in Corea, as the fact that the portal was there meant that Yeong was probably on his way out.

The part of his mind that won said screw that, Gon had spent far too long without Jo Yeong, and he wanted to see him now.

How could he help stepping through the enticing crack in reality, when it meant he might finally get what his soul had been crying out for since he had said goodbye to Yeong, just under a week ago.

Gon told himself he was making his way towards the portal to Korea with calm, collected, regal grace, the picture of majestic confidence, but he knew it must have looked more like an awkward half-jog.

He just – he needed Yeong. More than he’d needed anyone in a long time. Maybe he couldn’t confide in Yeong, maybe Yeong wouldn’t be able to offer him anything more than his presence, but that was all Gon really needed.

He burst through the Korean portal into the bamboo forest on the other side, trying not to pant, trying not to scream with the pressure building up in his body as it realised that it was finally going to see Yeong again.

And there he was. Jo Yeong, feared Captain of the Corean Royal Guard, sitting with his back against the obelisk on Gon’s left and grinning like a fool as he texted the luckiest girl in all of Korea.

There Jo Yeong was, breaking his King’s heart without even trying.

If Yeong hadn’t turned to look at him in that moment, he would have headed back through the portal without saying a word. As it was, he was rooted to the spot, not knowing where to look because he knew he wouldn’t be able to meet Yeong’s eyes.

“Gon,” Yeong breathed, his velvety deep voice tinged with surprise.

Gon. Why did his name sound so good when Yeong said it?

“Hi, Yeong-ah,” was all he managed to utter, forcing his mouth into a friendly smile.

“You came to find me?” Yeong cocked his head and stared up at him, trying to pick Gon apart with his deep black eyes, soft lips resting slightly apart.

He was adorable. That was just an objective fact.

“I missed you.” That, too, was an objective fact.

Yeong let out a short breath that was reminiscent of a laugh as he hung his head for a second, before looking back up at Gon, and admitting, “Me too.”

“Can I sit?” Gon asked, gesturing to the patch of grass and mud next to Yeong.

“I thought the Great King of Corea couldn’t sit on the floor.”

Why, the cheek–

“I can sit on the floor if I have my Captain next to me,” Gon asserted, sitting down and wincing slightly as he felt the ground squelch underneath him.

He hoped his coat wasn’t stained. He really liked this one.

“Oh, what has become of our glorious monarch?” Yeong mock-lamented, throwing a mischievous grin in Gon’s direction.

Is this what a week without him and with his new girl has done to Yeong? Brought out this carefree, happy side to him?

Just a little while ago, it was him that had done that, he was sure that he was the one that had that effect on his Captain when it was just the two of them together.

That one niggling doubt that told him that Yeong was replacing him was growing stronger by the second.

“Glorious monarch isn’t feeling so glorious,” Gon confessed, letting himself gently rest against Yeong’s side. He couldn’t resist the urge to peek over at Yeong’s phone, to try and catch a glimpse of mystery girl’s name or what they were talking about, but Yeong shut his phone off before he could, hiding the screen against his chest as he looked over at Gon.

“Seungah mentioned you were moping,” he commented, concern written all over his face, “Is everything ok?”

Moping? Is that what he looked like to the rest of the palace?

How pathetic, for the King of Corea to be moping.

“Fine,” he lied, putting on a smile, “just feeling a little off-my-game lately, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

“Something tells me you wouldn’t have come all this way to find me if everything was fine.”

“Do you want me to tell you that everything’s not ok?”

Yeong frowned. “I want you to be honest.”

Gon wished Yeong knew how difficult he was making this whole interaction. Why would he ask for something so fundamentally impossible?

“I just wanted to see you.” There, that was honest. “It’s been too long, and I’m sorry. I’ve got all up in my head again.” That was honest too.

Yeong nodded understandingly. “A lot on your mind?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Want to run through it with me?”

Oh, Yeong. If only.

“No, thank you.” He paused for a second. “Just –”

“Just?”

“Hold me. Please.”

He smiled, doing so in a way that looked like he was really trying not to. “Alright.”

Gon tried not to tense as Yeong wrapped his strong, comforting arms around him and eased himself against Gon’s body, slowly lowering his head to rest on Gon’s shoulder.

It didn’t escape Gon’s attention the way that Yeong bit his lip as he closed his eyes and inhaled Gon’s scent, or the way his hands balled into loose fists, gently clutching onto the thick fabric of Gon’s coat.

Yeong wasn’t lying when he said that he missed Gon too, huh.

Maybe he wasn’t going to be replaced so soon after all.

With a tentative, softly trembling hand, Gon cupped the back of Yeong’s head, savouring the flood of warmth it sent racing through his body as he finally got the closeness he had been craving.

“Is everything alright with Taeeul?” Yeong probed, barely louder than a whisper, but it felt loud enough to make Gon’s heart stop, just for a split-second.

“What makes you say that?”

Did Yeong know? Was it that obvious that Gon had lost faith in his feelings?

“Nothing. I just wondered if she was the reason you were feeling down. I figured if everything was ok between you two, if you had come all this way for some love, you might have preferred it from her.”

“I came all this way for you, not necessarily for love. Why would I have gone to her when I missed you?”

The thought of going to Taeeul, of going to any of the others that lived in Korea, hadn’t even crossed Gon’s mind. All he cared about was being able to spend time with Yeong again.

Yeong shook his head, as much as he could while it rested against Gon. “I’m sorry. Of course.”

“Do you want to keep talking to your girl?” Gon asked, unable to keep the worry that he was stealing Yeong away from someone that needed him more out of his brain.

“No, it’s ok. I already told h– I already said goodbye, I said I needed to go when you arrived.”

“Oh. You stopped talking to her for me?”

Gon felt Yeong’s lips break into what he thought was a smile, hidden from view but obvious to someone who’d spent his life sensitive to the slightest touch.

“Yes,” he said, “I suppose I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

“Oh, right.” Gon smiled too, letting that sentiment wash over him and warm the deepest depths of his heart, places that he didn’t normally let feelings reach.

Yeong would give up his new love… for him?

Lord knows he didn’t deserve it, but Gon appreciated it nonetheless.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while, Gon letting himself truly ease into Yeong’s embrace, and for the first time in a week, truly relax. It reminded him of that morning after they’d gone back to Korea the first time after the reset.

That was the first morning in a long string of mornings that he hadn’t woken up stressed, in a cold sweat, or screaming in fear of the demons of the previous night. It was a feat he hadn’t been able to replicate since.

He had a hypothesis that maybe sleeping in the arms of another helped, but he hadn’t been able to test it since. Yeong had said no, and it would be an abuse of his power as King to force him to do it anyway.

With what Lady Noh had assumed, Gon wasn’t at all surprised that Yeong was hesitant about that level of intimacy. He probably thought Gon was out of his mind for even asking in the first place.

Perhaps he was. Even now he wasn’t sure why he had asked. He knew why he wanted to do it again – that was for science, of course, to test his hypothesis – but the reasoning behind the original event eluded him.

From what he could remember about the night before, it had just felt… right. Whatever that meant.

“Hey, Gon,” Yeong murmured, shifting his position so he could feasibly look up at Gon for more than a couple of seconds.

Just seeing his face, cheeks tinged with pink from the warmth of the embrace, made Gon’s heart catch in his throat.

The way his lips rested slightly apart after saying Gon’s name chewed up Gon’s sensibilities and threw them back through the portal into another universe, never to be seen again.

Jo Yeong was everything. That was the only way he could think to describe it.

“Yes?” If this was a Jogon Jogon fanfiction, his palm would be resting against Yeong’s neck, thumb gently rubbing up and down Yeong’s cheek.

If this was a Jogon Jogon fanfiction, Yeong would be about to confess his love, and upon hearing his confession, Gon would pull him into a kiss, releasing the tension that had been building between them for a long time.

This wasn’t a Jogon Jogon fanfiction. For a second, Gon wondered if perhaps a part of him hoped it would be.

He didn’t. He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

“Did you mean what you said to me, after my date with Seungah?” Yeong asked, cutting through Gon’s thoughts, eyes shining a little wetter than usual, “When you said that I was your favourite person?”

Why would he even need to ask? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!

“Of course I did,” Gon assured him, snaking his arms around Yeong properly and pulling him in close, letting him hide his face again under the guise of allowing him to react privately, but really so Gon didn’t have to face those reactions, and didn’t have to face how they made him feel. “I would never lie about something like that.”

“I, um –” Yeong swallowed, steadying his breath “– I wanted to say that you’re my favourite person too. I didn’t say it then, but it’s true. I think you might always be, whether I like it or not.”

“Oh, Yeong-ah,” Gon soothed, softly rubbing Yeong’s back, “you didn’t have to say that. I already knew.”

In that moment, he wondered how he could ever have forgotten, how he could ever have doubted that Yeong would be happy to see him, to spend time with him.

This was his Jo Yeong, his Unbreakable Sword. They spent every day together, and loved every minute of it.

“You… knew? You know?” Yeong asked, an uncharacteristic quiver in his usually sure voice.

“That I’m your favourite person? Of course, we’re best friends.”

“Best friends. Right,” Yeong sighed, his relief evident.

Did he think they weren’t best friends? It’s not exactly like Gon had been trying to make it obvious recently, but that didn’t make it any less true. Even best friends were allowed to have off days… or weeks.

Either way, Yeong was reassured now. That was the most important thing.

“Don’t you ever think we’re more than best friends, though?” Yeong blurted, body cringing into itself as he said it, every one of his muscles tensing under Gon’s arm.

“More than best friends?” Gon queried, “What could we be that’s more than best friends?”

He knew what it was that was more than best friends. He knew something at least, and he also knew it couldn’t be that.

This wasn’t a Jogon Jogon fanfiction. He had a girlfriend, and Yeong was straight. Yeong had a girl he was talking to. The relationship Gon thought of was impossible.

“I don’t know, just – I feel like I know what best friendship is, and I’m sure it’s… less. Than this. But at the same time I don’t know what we are, if not that. I just – you’re frustrating, Lee Gon. Sometimes I can kid myself and think that I don’t need you in my life, but then as soon as I spend time with you it’s obvious that I do, and I don’t know what to do about that!”

Gon gently pushed Yeong off him so he could see his friend better. Yeong was still tense, shaking ever so slightly, and looking up at Gon in a painful mixture of frustration and hurt, with a touch of fear.

“Yeong-ah…” Gon started, but he didn’t know what else to say. What was he expected to say, in this situation? How could he fix the problem that was so obviously there?

“Don’t bother,” Yeong said, weakly holding up his hand in a signal to stop, “before you ask, there’s nothing you can do.”

“Soulmate.” Yeong snapped to attention, eyes widening. There! That was more like it. “The word you were looking for, for our relationship. We’re soulmates, I think.”

Soulmates didn’t have to be romantic! It was perfect!

“Wouldn’t you say Taeeul is your soulmate, though?” Yeong asked, his disbelief clear. “With you getting her ID card, and then running into her in a different universe?”

“I planted the ID card, technically after I’d met her, so if I orchestrated the whole thing I doubt I can consider her my soulmate. You, though, what are the chances your dad was looking after you on the day of my coronation? What are the chances you managed to slip past your dad and all the other Royal Guards to come and see me when I needed you most? What are the chances that even after then we got on so well that we became inseparable, so much so that you became the Captain of my Royal Guard, so even now I’m older and actually have to carry out my duties, we can still spend most days together? Taeeul and I… we haven’t even known each other a year. The relationship I’ve built with her is nothing compared to the one I have with you. We’re soulmates.”

“Soulmates,” Yeong tried out the word, focusing on the feeling of the word in his mouth, and how it felt on a deeper level too, while Gon watched in adoration. He wasn’t sure before, but it felt right when he said it out loud.

Lee Gon and Jo Yeong; they were soulmates. Destined for each other across time and space. Destined to love each other like no one else.

God, he loved Yeong. He was beautiful, he was adorable, he was admirable, he was a survivor, a fighter, but still so soft and genuine and full of heart. Gon loved his dry sense of humour, he loved the way his head tilts to the side when he’s confused, and the way Yeong always denies he does it. He loved the little smirks that sometimes broke through Yeong’s stony exterior, he loved how even as Captain of the Royal Guard his laptop was covered in stickers, and he loved the little doodles of birds and flowers and hearts left in the margins of the last few pages of documents Yeong has had to go over, evidence of the person behind the Captain trying to sneak out as he finishes up his work.

Surely it was impossible not to love that man. Gon didn’t know, he had never tried.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Yeong instructed him, furrowing his brow and cocking his head and generally looking like the most precious man in all the worlds.

“Like what?” Gon asked, a warm smile etched into his features.

“Like that! Like you’re looking at me in loving admiration! It’s weird!”

“Aren’t I allowed to admire my soulmate? You’re very beautiful, and I know you know that.”

Yeong’s face flushed bright red, the crimson hue reaching all the way to the tops of his ears as he looked away, biting his lower lip so hard it looked like it might bleed.

“You’re not allowed if it means you come out with cheesy things like that,” he complained, staring intently at the grass.

“So I’m not allowed to tell you how cute you look when you’re all flustered?”

Yeong pushed him, and Gon burst into laughter.

“It’s not funny! Don’t make me regret letting you sit with me; I stopped talking to Ji – to the person I’m talking to for this.”

Gon smirked. “So her name begins with ‘Ji,’ then.”

It took all of Gon’s strength not to laugh even more when all the blood drained from Yeong’s face.

“Let me guess – Jihyo? Jimin? Jiyeon?”

“No, no, and no,” Yeong said, glaring at Gon. “And I’ll say no even if you did get it right, so don’t bother trying to guess, it’s not worth it.”

“Aw, Yeong-ah, that’s no fun,” Gon moaned, “Shinjae and Eunseob get to know her name, how come I don’t?”

“I wish they didn’t know. And you’ll find out if it works out – I don’t see the point in telling you anything about my date if we’re not going to see each other again after we meet.”

“That’s very sensible –”

“Thank you.”

“– and very boring. Jo Yeong, you must be the only person in any universe that thinks like that. As your best friend and your soulmate, it is my right to be overly invested in your love-life, whether this love is for one date or the rest of your life.”

Maybe if he found out her name, Gon thought, the thought of Yeong falling in love would become more palatable, as the truth of the situation would be forced to sink in. As it was, Gon was trapped in a kind of love-limbo, where he knew Yeong was seeing someone, but it didn’t feel real.

Seriously. Even Jogon Jogon’s fanfiction felt more real than Yeong’s mysterious lover. For all Gon knew, and for all he did-not-hope, she could be a large, elaborate prank.

“No! You’re finding out when I’m letting you find out, and that’s final. Don’t go getting your hopes up.” Yeong folded his arms and pursed his lips, and Gon only caved because of how adorable he looked.

‘Ok, ok, I’m sorry. No more prying, I promise.” He held out his hand with all his fingers making a fist except his smallest, which was sticking out in offer of a pinkie promise.

“You are a child,” Yeong groaned, locking his own pinkie with Gon’s and sealing the promise, rolling his eyes in the process.

“You love it though,” Gon joked, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of Yeong trying his very best not to be amused.

“Yes,” his Captain smiled, finally unable to suppress the urge, “I guess I do.”

***

In all his thirty years of living, Yeong could safely say that Lee Gon was the most frustrating, most annoying, most unbearable man he had ever met.

How could he have the audacity to waltz back into Yeong’s life after a week of isolation, complaining about missing him as if he had been locked in a prison cell without any means of communication instead of just holing himself up in his palace with an internet connection that he could have used to get in touch, and then deciding that Yeong was his soulmate, and then looking at him like–

There was only one real way to describe the way Gon was looking at Yeong, even if he knew that wasn’t it at all.

Gon was looking at Yeong like he was in love, and to someone who was trying really really hard to move on from Gon, to someone who was trying to start a relationship with someone else for the first time in years, it was the most frustrating thing in the universe. In all the universes.

Why did he have to make it so hard? Gon didn’t love Yeong, and Yeong knew that, and he cursed his stupid, optimistic brain for desperately wanting to interpret his words and his actions into something they just didn’t mean.

And that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part, the most humiliating part about all of this, was how much of a pathetic sap he had turned into, literally as soon as Gon burst through the portal. It wasn’t right that King Asshole had him clutching at his designer coat like it was the end of the fucking world, when he had only asked for a simple hug because he was feeling a little overwhelmed. That was all. It was meant to be a very relaxed interaction, but that wasn’t what Captain Moron did, was it?

Fuck Lee Gon. Fuck. Him.

And fuck the way he had reminded Yeong just how hopelessly in love he was.

Yeong rubbed his eyes and sighed. He was meant to be getting ready for his date with Jihun; Lee Gon, and more specifically his feelings about Lee Gon, were the last things he should be thinking about.

As he painstakingly styled his hair, trying to get it to do something marginally more exciting than his usual slicked-back look, Yeong focused all his mental efforts onto trying to let his mind wander onto literally anything else.

Like… how this was his first real date in six, seven, maybe eight years? His early twenties were a blur of confusing feelings, heavy make-up, and Bond-esque secrecy when it came to his dating life, and he could hardly pinpoint the details, or the exact moment he had given up on looking for love.

It wasn’t really love, anyway. He didn’t even let his dates know what his real face looked like, always trying to hide his identity with face masks or glasses or heavily contoured make-up that disguised his features, and he never dreamed of giving them his real name, or any hint of his real life.

No, he had ventured into Busan’s gay scene as Choi Junseo, pretty but ditsy art student studying at the university, the black sheep of a well-off family from Seoul. Truth is, he didn’t know much about art, but he had learnt to spout pretentious bullshit well enough that anyone he saw seemed to buy it.

Sometimes he’d look back and feel guilty about lying to them. Sometimes. Other times he’d just look back and cringe.

Today, he was feeling neither of those things. Instead, looking back brought a sort of warm nostalgia, of pride in that young man trying to figure himself out despite the fear that he felt in doing so.

It felt strange, thinking that in the other world the consequences of getting spotted were nowhere near as great. Sure, if someone recognised him as Eunseob then his doppelganger would have some explaining to do, but there was no Captain of the Royal Guard in Korea, and no reputation to ruin.

He could just be a guy, trying to find love just like everyone else. The prospect made his heart flutter with a sort of excitement he hadn’t felt in, well, ever.

Just Jo Yeong. Raw, unfiltered Jo Yeong. Yeong wasn’t even sure he knew what that looked like.

He couldn’t wait to find out, though.

Yeong offered himself a smile in the mirror, almost convincing himself that this date was what his soul was waiting for. An alien reflection smiled back at him – it was him but not him, in the way that Eunseob was him but not him.

This Yeong looked far more relaxed than regular-Yeong did. Instead of a black shirt buttoned right up to the top, he wore a white t-shirt under a maroon blazer jacket with black lapels, and in the end his hair had settled into an easy side-fringe, the strict parting refusing to budge. It was a look he could see Gon wearing, save for the hint of make-up he had applied, feeling rather naked going on a date without it. Nothing as drastic as in his early twenties, mind, just a hint of eye make-up, a touch of colour to his lips and cheeks, all to accentuate his features a little more.

He doubted anyone would even notice. He knew Gon wouldn’t, anyway, and his was the main gaze Yeong wanted to avoid.

Would Gon be surprised, Yeong wondered, to see him like this? The hard, masculine Captain of the Royal Guard, his strong Unbreakable Sword, presenting himself in a slightly softer way?

Perhaps he would. That was fine by Yeong. He didn’t care what Gon thought, because he was actively moving on from Gon, starting today. There was another man waiting for him with no real expectations for Yeong’s appearance, so he could set whatever precedent he wanted.

That’s what Yeong told himself, anyway, when the doorbell rang and he had to face his King. His best friend. His love.

His soulmate, if that’s what Gon wanted to call them.

Upon Yeong opening the door, Gon dropped the briefcase he was holding in shock, mouth hanging slack and eyes open wide, so his face resembled a very handsome goldfish.

“Yeong-ah,” he managed to utter, after a few seconds of barely-concealed staring, “you look…”

“Different?” Yeong offered, trying to fill in the blank after Gon trailed off.

“Good, was what I was going to say. Nice.” Gon’s gaze dipped to take another, better look at Yeong’s appearance, and Yeong could have sworn he saw a hint of colour reach the tops of Gon’s ears as he said, “Beautiful. You look beautiful, Yeong-ah. Stunning. Mysterious Ji-girl is going to be one lucky lady.”

“You think so?” Yeong self-consciously rubbed a hand against his neck as he analysed Gon, trying to figure out how serious he was being. To Yeong’s surprise, he could find nothing to suggest that he was being anything but sincere. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like the change.”

Gon laughed to himself, looking down at Yeong in disbelief. “Are you serious? It’s you, Yeong-ah, you couldn’t look bad if you tried. You could be old and decrepit and you’d still be the most handsome guy I know.”

“Stop that, you’re just being cheesy now,” Yeong chided, pretending like he wasn’t enjoying all the positive attention.

He needed to focus. He couldn’t be getting distracted by Gon now, not when Jihun was waiting for him.

“Alright,” Gon conceded, holding out his hand as he asked, “Shall we?”

Focus, Jo Yeong, focus. Just because Gon’s offering for you to take his hand, doesn’t mean you have any right to be getting distracted because he does not mean anything by it. Ok? Ok.

Trying his hardest not to blush, or grin, or giggle like an inexperienced teenager, Yeong took Gon’s hand, locked his door, and settled into an easy stride beside him. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, even when Yeong was used to walking two steps behind.

For a minute, Yeong could almost kid himself that it was Gon he was going on a date with, and not his Korean doppelganger. It certainly felt that way, strolling hand-in-hand through the trees, first in the Kingdom and then in the bamboo forest in the Republic, making idle conversation about everything and nothing. In those moments, there was no hint of the constraints of their lives as the King and his Unbreakable Sword, there was only Lee Gon and Jo Yeong, two men enjoying each other’s company.

Soulmates. For the first time since their conversation the day before, Yeong began to let himself believe it. Lee Gon was his soulmate, and it was a truth that was undeniable. They made each other happy in a way that no one else could, they provided each other comfort in a way that no one else ever dared to, and Yeong couldn’t begin to imagine a life where they weren’t as special to each other as they were in that moment.

That is, until they arrived at Jeong Taeeul’s flat, and Yeong became a distant memory as Gon gave all his energy and love and attention to her once again.

***

Gon prayed it wasn’t obvious how much he was overcompensating.

He was well aware that was what he was doing, actively trying to act as in-love as possible around his girlfriend to try and counter his guilt about not really being in love with her at all.

It seemed to be working. Taeeul didn’t look like she suspected a thing.

They had a few hours before Yeong was going on his date with Mystery Ji, and Taeeul had suggested they use that time to go and explore another world, just the two of them, so they had gone back to the portal pretty quickly, not really stopping to take stock. If he was being honest, Gon was glad he hadn’t really had time to think since arriving at Taeeul’s, because overthinking was the last thing he wanted to do.

If he started to overthink, then captain_dreamland’s words about coming clean to her might start infiltrating his mind, and he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let his country down, and he couldn’t disappoint Taeeul, not when she had been so excited to explore another new world with him.

Not that it looked particularly new, after stepping out of the portal. They were in another forest, and there weren’t any people around, so it could easily have been somewhere in Corea, or Korea. They’d have to wait until they saw people to gauge when and where this was.

“Are you sure we haven’t just landed back in your world?” Taeeul asked, swinging their clasped hands idly as they walked.

“If this was my world, you would be trespassing on royal grounds right now, and we would both be surrounded by guards, so no. Also the forest is different. This isn’t my kingdom, my love.”

“‘My love?’ Is that something I’m going to have to get used to, Mr. Fancy King?”

“Do you like it?” Gon turned his head to look down at her, but she didn’t look impressed.

“No. Way too old and formal. I feel like a grandma, and I’m only barely in my thirties. You need to call me something more modern,” she said with a pout, rolling her eyes in mock disappointment. He hoped.

“Like what? What is it that the kids say in the Republic, then?”

She stared up at him, raising her eyebrows slightly in incredulity. “Dunno. Do I look like a kid to you? Or someone who’s had lots of boyfriends before you?”

“First one no –” Gon started, pausing to choose his words carefully. “Second one; I don’t know the correct answer to that. If I answer yes you’ll berate me for insinuating you’ve slept around, but if I answer no you’ll berate me for insinuating you’re not attractive enough to get a boyfriend, which is absolutely not true. You’ll use my answer against me either way.”

“Oh stop overthinking it, dumbass, and just call me Taeeul,” she sighed, breaking her hand free of Gon’s to clip him around the head. He wondered if she would notice if he put his hand in his pocket, as he was reminded how much nicer he felt without her touching him.

He didn’t bother trying. You were meant to enjoy holding hands with your girlfriend, after all, and he couldn’t let her think he was having doubts.

Before he could think of a witty reply for his lovely girlfriend, Gon caught sight of a group of locals whispering and pointing at them in a way that suggested they were trying to be covert, but were failing miserably.

Though all of Gon’s self-preservation instincts told him to turn back and go to a different world, he couldn’t help being curious as to what they were whispering about, so he kept going forward, Taeeul’s hand in his, in the hopes of catching a snippet of their conversation.

As they passed the group, he tried his best to tune out whatever Taeeul was saying, making a mental plan to apologise for that later, because this was far more important.

“…come on, surely that is His Majesty holding hands with that girl. Do you think it means anything, if…”

“Hey! Your Majesty!” another member of the group called out, just as Taeeul and Gon had passed them, and Gon thought he might be in the clear. “Who’s that girl you’re with?”

Gon turned round, unsure if the surprise on his face was faked or genuine. “Your Majesty?”

“Aren’t you King Lee Chul?” the brave one asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“Oh! No!” Gon laughed nervously, trying to signal to Taeeul to help him, Jesus Christ, couldn’t she tell that he needed backup here?

“He gets that a lot,” Taeeul chimed in, offering Gon a fake knowing smile, “but he’s not the King. At least, I hope he’s not, because that would be incredibly awkward.”

The group of strangers chuckled, and then laughed a little more as the brave one said, “Well considering how the King is gay, yeah it would.”

Every fibre in Gon’s body froze, and he could do nothing but stare at the group of tittering strangers, so damn casual about something that surely could not be common knowledge, because what king in his right mind–

“The King is what?” Taeeul blurted, before slowly turning her head to look at Gon. He didn’t dare look at her out of anything but the corner of his eye, because if she started to wonder whether people shared sexualities across worlds, which Gon presumed they did, then…

It would all be over. This was not how Gon wanted their relationship to end. He didn’t want their relationship to end.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who’s still in denial,” the brave one scoffed, “he came out like twenty years ago, and he’s been married to Jo Muyeol for the past seven. I think it’s time to get over it.”

“Jo Muyeol?” Taeeul whispered to Gon, emphasising his surname in a way that Gon really didn’t like. “Do you think –”

“Sorry about her!” Gon cut in, stopping Taeeul’s comment before she could get any further and voice the hypothetical that was racing around all the corners of Gon’s mind. “She’s like this sometimes, she doesn’t mean anything harmful against the King of course, just likes to cause arguments for arguments’ sake. We both fully support the King and his” – Gon could hardly spit out the word – “husband. Taeeul, don’t you think we should be going now? I think we need to be going now. Goodbye, gentlemen.”

And with that, they left, Gon yanking on Taeeul’s arm to pull her away so they didn’t have to face any more difficult questions.

At least, no more difficult questions from strangers.

“So do you think the King’s husband is this world’s Eunseob or Yeong, then?” Taeeul questioned, most likely in a nice, friendly way, but Gon could only hear the remark as scathing.

“No. He can’t be. There are lots of people with the surname ‘Jo,’ who says it’s Yeong? It’s probably someone we’ve never even heard of,” Gon told himself, and Taeeul too he supposed, but his primary objective was to actively ignore the fact that this world might just be Jogon Jogon’s work come to life.

That wasn’t something he wanted to see. It really, definitely wasn’t. Absolutely not.

“It is a bit suspicious though,” Taeeul continued, ignoring Gon’s attempts at dismissing the possibility completely. “I mean, if you’re the King in this world as well, then there’s a good chance you grew up with Yeong here too, and maybe that friendship blossomed into–”

“Just stop!” Gon commanded, authoritative King voice slipping out before he added, “Please, Taeeul, I don’t want you to make this into a thing, and I especially don’t want to be concerned about something that doesn’t matter. This Lee Chul guy isn’t me, he can do whatever he wants with his life, I don’t care.”

He did care. The annoying part of him that drew him to reading Jogon Jogon’s fanfiction in the first place, the part of him that longed to see what a Corea with a gay king looked like out of scientific curiosity, really wanted to explore exactly what King Lee Chul was doing with his life, and how he was received by his country.

From what that man had said, it seemed that although there were some that didn’t accept it, the majority of the citizens had come to terms with their King marrying a man, despite the problem of the lack of an heir.

Still, though, they’d had twenty years to come to terms with the idea. If Lee Chul’s Corea was similar to Gon’s back at the turn of the millennium, then he probably wasn’t met with nearly as much support as he was now.

Twenty years ago, Gon and Lee Chul were fourteen. Gon couldn’t help but admire his counterpart’s courage at coming out to his country at such a young age, despite the likely backlash. He was a much braver man than Gon could ever hope to be.

“Sorry,” Taeeul murmured, leaning into Gon’s side and looking up at him, wide eyes begging for forgiveness. Of course he gave it, offering a smile to soothe her concerns.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry for snapping, too, you didn’t really say anything wrong. I’m just…” he paused, trying to pick his next words in a way that meant Taeeul wouldn’t catch onto anything that could put their relationship in jeopardy, “a little stressed at the moment. Especially about Yeong, and relationships, and Yeong’s relationships.”

“Aww, is scary King Lee Gon worried about scary Captain Jo Yeong going on a date?” Taeeul mocked, widening her eyes and sticking out her bottom lip in a childlike frown. “I’m sure he’ll be fine; if he can handle himself around hardened criminals, I’m sure he can handle himself around a pretty girl. Unless it’s the girl you’re worried about?”

“No, I’m sure they’ll both be fine, I just – is it weird that Yeong going on a date is making me nervous about my friendship with him?” Gon could hear his heart thumping in his chest after asking that as Taeeul fell silent, scrutinising every inch of his body and his expression, presumably trying to figure out where that question came from.

“Are you jealous?” she finally asked, with a surprising lack of malice in her voice. Still, though, it was best not to be too careful.

And besides. He had already worked out that what he was feeling couldn’t possibly be jealousy.

“Why would I be jealous?” he countered, deciding it best to probe, and find out what she was really asking before he made any assumptions.

“Because you’re worried about not being Yeong’s favourite anymore. It’s a tale as old as time – two best friends, practically inseparable until one of them gets a partner, and then the friendship falls apart because the friend starts to only care about their lover, instead of their lonely friend.”

“So you think that’s what’s going to happen?” Gon hoped his voice wasn’t portraying the sinking feeling settling in his chest. From the way Taeeul laughed, it probably was.

“I can’t say if that’s going to happen or not, because I don’t know Yeong as well as you do. What I can say, though, is that you are a massive hypocrite for worrying about this, Lee Gon, because from Yeong’s perspective I’m pretty sure that’s happened already. Possibly in an even worse way than what I described, considering how you left him in another universe while you went and found love. If he starts ignoring you, it’s probably in retaliation for what you did to him.”

Gon didn’t have anything to say in return to that. Of course, of course Yeong would have felt the way he was feeling now, and the worst part was that he wasn’t worried about it as a hypothetical because Gon had made it true.

He really needed to give Yeong some more love when he got home. Set up an Appreciate Yeong Day – maybe he should make that a national holiday, every year on Yeong’s birthday. Give him the same level of appreciation Gon received from his kingdom every day.

He wondered if Lee Chul gave his Yeong a national holiday. If he hadn’t, he was missing out on a prime opportunity to please his… his husband.

It still felt weird, even to think. So wrong, yet so–

So definitely wrong for King Lee Gon. Nothing more.

“I don’t think he will start ignoring you, if that helps,” Taeeul offered, squeezing Gon’s hand that she held in hers. “He really cares about you, and I can’t see him giving you any less love than he already does, girlfriend or not.”

“I don’t deserve him,” Gon muttered, just loud enough that Taeeul could hear.

“Possibly not,” she laughed, and Gon elbowed her, causing her to laugh even harder. “But hey, it’s not like you’re still completely abandoning him – I mean come on, if I’ve been teasing you about being in love with him instead of me, that must be a sign that you’re giving him at least enough love for a best friend.”

“I suppose,” he conceded, not really believing it. Whatever he was giving, Gon knew he could still be doing more. He could be with Yeong right now, psyching him up ready for his date, instead of gallivanting off into an unknown world with the girl he wasn’t in love with.

Yeong thought he was in love with Taeeul. Gon had maybe hurt Yeong by being in love with Taeeul, or at least thinking that he was.

Did his relationship still hurt Yeong? Or was that something he had forced himself to move past, just like he had forced himself to move past every other painful relationship in his life.

Sure, Taeeul really didn’t deserve this substance-less relationship, and perhaps one could argue that Gon didn’t deserve to force it upon himself, but was Yeong also being hurt by Gon’s insistence on being with Taeeul?

Maybe he wasn’t anymore, if he was finding a girlfriend of his own. Or maybe he was, if getting a girlfriend was his way of coping.

Would it just be himself and Yeong again like it was before, if he came clean to Taeeul?

He couldn’t say anything, of course. His country still depended on him.

But just for a second, he almost came close to telling her. Almost.

In the end, their curiosity got the better of them.  After going to a pawn shop to trade some gold for local currency, and after buying Gon a cap, face mask, and sunglasses to hide his identity – he had brought period costumes in case they landed in the past, but hadn’t thought to bring a disguise in case he was royalty in another world too – they headed to a library to find out about this world’s royal family.

As it turns out, Jo Muyeol was this world’s Yeong, because of course he fucking was.

His hair was a little different, as it was longer than Yeong’s, curling round his cheeks and framing his face in a very regal way, but that was still the unmistakable face of Jo Yeong smiling back at him out of the picture with Lee Chul.

And it was the unmistakable voice of Jo Yeong coming out of his mouth when they watched the royal couple do an interview on a local chat show.

And it was the unmistakable smile of Jo Yeong lighting up the room after Lee Chul kissed him for all the world too see.

Go hadn’t seen his Yeong smile like that, so carefree and joyous, in a very long time.

Actually no, that was a lie. He had seen it once, that morning where he had woken up in Yeong’s arms.

If Jo Muyeol was with Lee Chul, and they were… together, then Lee Chul most likely got to wake up in his Yeong’s arms every day. He got to see his husband happy every single day.

Lee Chul got to be happy too. Because of his bravery twenty years ago, Lee Chul could live his life as he wanted, could marry someone he wanted, and from the look of the comments on the video they were watching, his country and the world were happy for him.

Not that Gon was jealous, or anything. He really wasn’t jealous, because that would involve him wanting Lee Chul’s life, which he definitely didn’t because he had a lovely girlfriend next to him who he was going to make his wife and–

Oh, who was he kidding. Of course he was jealous of Lee Chul, going off and making his own decisions about his life without giving two shits about his country.

What about the succession problem, Lee Chul? Did you think about that before you married a man?

“His people need an heir,” Gon eventually said, cutting through the stunned silence that had hung between himself and his girlfriend as they watched a man with his face unapologetically love a man with Yeong’s.

“Not necessarily,” Taeeul mused, “monarchies are overrated anyway. If the line dies with Lee Chul, then so be it.”

“Taeeul! It doesn’t just work like that!” Gon hissed, trying not to raise his voice too loud in a public library. “If they don’t want to upend their country’s entire way of running, they’re going to need an heir, and he doesn’t have one!”

“Maybe they can adopt a child?” Taeeul offered, sounding far more hopeful for the couple than Gon felt.

“The child won’t have royal blood, so they won’t be accepted as the rightful heir. Look, the best case scenario is that they’d track one of my– one of his distant cousins down, and that sounds like a lot of trouble and a lot of taxpayer money going to waste for something that could be easily fixed if the King just did his job and married a woman.”

“Now you’re sounding like the unsupportive one,” Taeeul jibed, frowning at Gon. “If he’s gay, he’s not going to marry a woman because that’d make him way too unhappy, and anyway, it’s the twenty-first century! We support gay people now! Don’t tell me you’re homophobic, benevolent King Lee Gon.”

Gon just sighed. “I’m not trying to be homophobic, I just have firsthand experience with the duties of being the King. If he had a sibling who could have children then there wouldn’t be an issue, but because he’s me I know he’s an only child with very little extended family. What he’s doing is incredibly selfish, because he’s putting his own happiness over the wellbeing of his country and the ease of the lives of his people.”

“But what about the Queen!” Taeeul countered, slamming her hand on the desk and earning a dirty look from a nearby librarian. “If what you’re saying is true, and he needs a wife so he can have kids, isn’t that selfish because he’s leading her on when he doesn’t really love her? When he can’t really love her in the way she deserves from her husband?”

“If he marries a lesbian, then the feeling will be mutual,” Gon shrugged, but his nonchalance only seemed to fire Taeeul up more.

“Then they’ll both be unhappy, and isn’t that worse? Whatever Lee Chul does, it won’t please everyone, so in this situation why should he care about anyone other than himself? This is about love, Lee Gon, and this country’s king has found love – who are you to deny him that, especially when it doesn’t even affect you?”

“Because the job of a King is to serve his people,” Gon spat, “his interests are their interests, first and foremost! Even if he found love, so what? These things are bigger than any personal desires, those are unimportant when it comes to the future of the country.”

Taeeul laughed, in what appeared to be a desperate attempt to maintain her composure as she struggled to comprehend Gon’s totally logical argument.

“So what you’re telling me,” she clarified, any hint of her previous mirth gone, replaced with a hard stare, “is that the King shouldn’t care about love when he finds someone to marry.”

Gon affirmed her statement with a nod. “In the worst case scenario, as his is, yes.”

“And you currently want to marry me, yes?” she continued, raising an eyebrow but keeping the stare just as piercing.

After a pause, Gon agreed, “That is correct.”

Letting out a long exhale, Taeeul hesitated, closing her eyes and wincing as if she really didn’t want to say what she was going to say next.

Gon really didn’t want to know what she was going to say next.

“Gon,” she started, pursing her lips.

“Yes, darling?”

“King Lee Gon, His Royal Majesty, King of the Kingdom of Corea–”

“Yes?”

“Do you love me?”

Praying that Taeeul wouldn’t notice the hitch in his breath or the tremor in his voice, Gon answered, “Yes, Taeeul, of course I love you.”

It was the truth. He did truly love her, real romantic feelings or not.

“Are you in love with me, though?” she pressed, narrowing her gaze and making Gon really wish the irritated librarian would kick them out of the library right about now.

What was he meant to say? Well, he was meant to say yes, of course I do, but the problem was he really didn’t want to lie.

captain_dreamland’s virtuous sentiment ran through Gon’s mind, to just come clean and tell her the whole truth, but judging by the tone of her voice it didn’t seem like she was ready to hear it.

He couldn’t let her down. He couldn’t let his country down, either.

But with the way she was staring at him, he really, really couldn’t lie.

“I just told you I loved you, silly, why are you asking again?” he joked, hoping it came across as reassuring instead of showing his true intention of nervously avoiding answering her.

It didn’t work. Taeeul erupted.

“Lee Gon!” she bellowed, “Don’t you dare put on your fake ass King voice in front of me! I can see you doing that smarmy politician thing of not really answering the question; I am a detective, I can tell when people aren’t being truthful, and you definitely aren’t! I honestly – I don’t believe you! Can’t you tell I’m being serious? You expect me to leave my own world, leave everything I know and love behind so I can come and live with you in your boring palace with your prissy bodyguard, and you don’t even love me?”

“Taeeul, I just said I lo–”

“I don’t want to hear it! How can I believe you when you just said you don’t think love matters to a king? In fact, now I’m wondering why the hell you’ve very obviously spent time thinking about this! You had a comeback for my every question, and some of those were about – are you gay, Lee Gon? And I’m asking you honestly this time, not as a joke to tease you about Yeong. Is that why you were so desperate to lock me into a marriage, to ensure you make a baby with me and then what, cast me aside?”

“No, Taeeul,” Gon pleaded, “I’m not going to cast you aside, I promise.”

“But are you gay, though? Are you? I just – I promise I won’t be mad, if you tell me now, because if you are I know it must be scary for you, and I understand that, I do. I just think that as your girlfriend this is something I should know, so I know whether to invest my time into dating you, so are you?”

Taeeul’s very presence was suffocating. Her stare took over his whole visual field, her words were the only sound his ears would register, and Gon decided he would rather be back in Cheonjongo in 1994 than with her right now.

There was only one thing to do, only one correct answer, only one decision that would solve the situation in the way that would benefit most people, long-term.

Trying to remain as calm as he could, Gon instead continued spinning his awkward web of half-truths. “No. I’m the King. I can’t be gay, that’s preposterous, and I should have you beheaded right now for defamation of my character.”

“‘Can’t be gay’ isn’t the same as ‘not gay.’ You’re still not answering my question,” she complained, leaning in closer, getting a good look at Gon’s face, sharp eyes noting the bead of sweat running down his cheek, the slight twitch in his eye, and the way his kingly smile was just a little more wobbly than usual.

Analysing the situation, Gon could only see one way out.

Without wasting another precious second, he leaned the rest of the way in toward Taeeul and kissed her lips, furiously and passionately, leaving very little room to doubt that surely he must be attracted to her in the way that he really should be. Despite her initial shock, Taeeul slowly settled into the kiss, giving way to Gon and most importantly letting him win the argument.

Lee Gon: 1, dirty secrets: 0. His life wasn’t going to turn into one of Jogon Jogon’s more angsty fics just yet.

“Did that answer your question well enough?” he asked, smiling for real this time now he was confident in his victory. That smile widened when Taeeul nodded in defeat, apparently as yet unable to form words.

That was alright. Gon was pretty certain he’d had enough of Taeeul’s words for one day.

They eventually arrived back in Korea just before Yeong was due to leave for his date with Mystery Ji. Shinjae, Eunseob, and Nari were all fussing over him, fixing loose hairs and straightening his jacket, all while his Captain stood sporting the typical Yeong look of ‘I don’t want to be here.’

As soon as Yeong spotted Gon, that tired look changed to one of unexpected joy as his soft, slightly pinker-than-normal lips spread into a warm smile.

Seeing Yeong genuinely happy to see him was a welcome sight after his grilling from Taeeul. While the kiss did seem to do the trick and shut her up for the moment, Gon could sense that Taeeul was off for the rest of the time they were in the other world. They would see a picture of the royal couple and she would narrow her eyes at Gon, as if trying to pick apart his every little reaction, and when the news came on the TV they were watching in the restaurant they were in, and showed a story about the King and his Prince Consort meeting with an adoption agency, Taeeul made a point of remarking how adoption must be an option for a King, if they were doing it.

Their Corea was obviously different to Gon’s. It wasn’t an option. Of that, he was sure.

It was that thought he tried to keep in his head to encourage him avoid looking at Yeong a little too admiringly, for a little too long. A warrant for more interrogation was the last thing Gon wanted.

That being said… that was difficult. Very difficult, when Yeong had taken it upon himself to make himself into the most beautiful, most alluring, most captivating man alive.

Objectively, of course.

Though admittedly, that was a mantra that was getting harder and harder to repeat.

So, fine. Maybe Gon wasn’t being entirely objective when he adoringly gazed at his childhood best friend, and maybe, just maybe, Gon had more in common with Lee Chul than he cared to admit, even to himself.

But what the hell could he do about it? Yeong was straight, and thanks to his kingly duties Gon might as well be too. Also, Yeong was seeing a woman, and Gon was too. They were both spoken for, and their life paths already mapped out, irrespective of any deep, dirty, dangerous desires.

Lee Chul’s life was an unreachable fantasy for King Lee Gon.

Still, though, looking at Yeong all kitted out in his date night outfit, just for a second Gon allowed himself to dream.

Just for a second, before he crushed that dream into millions of tiny pieces, all blown away by the winds of guilt and responsibility.

“Gon!” Yeong called out, cutting through Gon’s thoughts like only he could, breaking free of his stylists to go and greet his friend.

Perhaps Gon spent a little too long in Yeong’s embrace, for what was only meant to be a friendly greeting hug. Who’s to say? It’s not like Yeong made any moves to break free either.

Eventually, however, the weight of Taeeul’s judging stare became too much for Gon’s guilty conscience, and he had to pull apart, choosing instead to hold Yeong’s hands in his own in a futile attempt to hold him close and never let him leave Gon’s side.

Up close, Gon’s view no longer obstructed by their friends, Yeong was… just…

“Breathtaking,” Gon sighed, letting his soul ascend to heaven as he took in the sight of his friend, “You look breathtaking.”

“Thanks,” Yeong smiled, bashfully looking down at the way his firm hands gently rested in Gon’s.

“Are you ready?” Gon asked, leaning down so he could look up into Yeong’s sweet eyes, making him laugh at his King’s childishness.

“I think so.” He rolled his eyes at Gon’s antics, looking up again so Gon could stretch back up to his full height.

“I’m sure you can handle yourself,” Gon assured him, “but if this girl isn’t who she says she is, or if she’s a creep to you, or if she’s in any way a bitch, let me know and I will personally behead her for you, because you’re my Unbreakable Sword and you deserve nothing but the best treatment.”

Yeong laughed, but Gon only doubled down.

“I’m serious! I’m looking out for you whether you like it or not, Jo Yeong!”

“Fine, fine,” Yeong conceded, “but I’m sure my date will go fine. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know. But I’m going to worry anyway.”

“I know.”

The others were staring at them. Taeeul was frowning. Shinjae was grinning. Eunseob was excitedly whispering to Nari, who was listening with wide eyes and a slowly spreading smile.

Yeong’s hands tensed in Gon’s grip, and Gon could tell he felt it too.

“I need to go,” he whispered, anxiously looking toward the door.

“Do you?” Gon wished he didn’t.

“Gon. Please. Let go of my hands.”

Reluctantly, Gon let go, and Yeong headed out of the flat, giving the group a last smile and wave goodbye before leaving for good.

Maybe he said goodbye too, Gon didn’t know. The crushing weight of seeing Yeong leave was deafening, and none of his senses could register anything else.

An unwelcome hand rested on Gon’s shoulder, sending a cold jolt of discomfort shivering down his spine. He whipped around, brushing the hand off to see Shinjae’s smug face, smiling up at him in a way that was all too knowing for Gon’s liking.

“What?” Gon groaned, sneering at Shinjae in a weak attempt to wipe the grin off his face.

“Nothing. Just wanted to offer some advice.” Likely story, but Gon was too curious to let that slide.

“Advice?”

“Taeeul says you’re not always great at emotions, so I thought I’d help you out. The one you’re feeling right now, seeing Yeong dress up and go on a date with someone else that’s not you: that’s jealousy.” Shinjae offered a sweet smile, and it took all of Gon’s willpower not to slap it off his stupid face.

“Shut the fuck up,” was what he ended up going with, the burst of rage slipping through his sensibilities and presenting itself as language a king shouldn’t normally use.

Shinjae held his hands up in surrender as he flashed Gon a final victorious smirk before going over to talk to Taeeul and leaving Gon gazing wistfully out of the window, watching Yeong hail a taxi and get inside, eventually disappearing out of view.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, reading the notification that had made the screen flash bright.

CHAT: You and Unbreakable Sword Yeong-ah

Unbreakable Sword Yeong-ah:

I see you staring, I didn’t train to be constantly vigilant for nothing

Unbreakable Sword Yeong-ah:

Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. You know as well as I do I can handle myself

Unbreakable Sword Yeong-ah:

Go and give your girlfriend a hug, she seemed pissed off, and the last thing I want is you all mopey again because she’s mad at you. If this goes well I don’t want to come back to you being unbearable

Unbreakable Sword Yeong-ah:

I can see you’re reading these messages. Stop looking at your phone and pay attention to Taeeul!!!!!!!

It was amazing, really, that even when he wasn’t in the room Yeong could still make Gon smile. His messages almost made him want to go and face Taeeul again.

As ever, Yeong was probably right. Taeeul was looking at him expectantly, so Gon made his way over to where she and Shinjae were standing and gently pulled her into a hug, ignoring the wave of tightness that overcame his body as it came into contact with hers.

“Can I sleep in your arms tonight?” he whispered to her, with the aim of both reassuring her about their relationship and testing out his hypothesis about physical contact helping with the nightmares.

After today’s stress, he knew he’d have to take every precaution he could so as not to wake up in a cold sweat, or worse.

“Bit early to ask, but sure, if you think you’ll be comfortable with that” she whispered back, glancing over at Shinjae and gently shrugging, making Gon wonder if he was meant to feel the movement or not. She did know how sensitive he was to touch.

At least she didn’t say no. At least she wasn’t outwardly mad anymore, and at least he had a support network ready and waiting for when the success of Yeong’s date broke his heart more than it had any right to.

For now, though his facades were crumbling, though his relationship was rocky, and though his best friend might end up distancing himself from Gon for good, life was looking up for King Lee Gon.

Chapter Text

When you were in charge of getting the King of Corea to and from his various appointments, on-time was late, and early was on-time. This, of course, was to ensure the King’s appearance was never sullied by tardiness brought on by unexpected traffic jams or such-like, and then to ensure that the venue was thoroughly scoured for any hint of danger before the event started.

Out of habit, Yeong had subtracted what he called ‘faff-time’ from the time that he and Lee Jihun had agreed to meet, thinking it would be useful in ensuring he didn’t make a bad first real-life impression on his date. In a way, it was, for he definitely wasn’t late when he turned up at the Italian restaurant Jihun had chosen as the location for their evening meal.

No, he wasn’t late at all. Instead, he was forty-five minutes early.

Though it was approaching the end of May, a chill was in the air over Korea’s Seoul, and so Yeong had decided that the best course of action was to go inside and try and bag their table, and then spend his forty-five minutes wasting his phone battery so he couldn’t be interrupted by whatever mishaps were happening back at Taeeul’s.

Gon’s girlfriend could handle him for one evening, right? If she was going to marry him, she’d have to get used to spending long evenings listening to him talk about his favourite mathematicians, or whatever obscure academia had taken his interest that day.

As he entered the restaurant, he tried not to feel disappointed at the thought of Gon excitedly info-dumping to Taeeul instead of himself, because if all went well, he’d have his own Lee Gon with whom he could unapologetically spend as much quality time as he liked.

Avoiding that disappointment soon became very easy, as a new disappointment set in instead when he was told that their table was still in use at the moment, and he’d have to come back closer to the time. There wasn’t even a bar inside the restaurant for him to dawdle by, so the great Unbreakable Sword was cast out into the chilly streets, with nothing but a flimsy suit jacket for insulation.

With three quarters of an hour to spare, he spent his time dipping in and out of the shops in the area, idly browsing through the various collections of clothes and jewellery and homeware. What he found most interesting was a shop selling CDs and DVDs, amongst other assorted media memorabilia, because as someone from another world it was fascinating to see what they had that was the same, and what was different.

The classic Disney films were much the same in Korea as they were in Corea. They still had The Lion King, which made Yeong laugh to himself as he remembered how Gon had the film strictly banned from the Royal Palace after he found out quite how similar it was to his own life, albeit with talking lions instead of himself, his father, and his own traitorous uncle.

The Lion King had always been a comforting film to Yeong, though he couldn’t quite place why anymore. When he was very young, he loved how it focused on the lives of people, or lions, he supposed, that were very similar to the ones he was already familiar with. When he was a little older, and understood Gon’s trauma a little more, it was comforting to him to see a character that had similar experiences to his best friend grow and mature in a happy environment, and develop into a strong and noble king, despite everything. When he grew older still, through and over his adolescent phase of ‘I’m too old for Disney,’ the film became a guilty comfort as he got to see Simba rekindle his childhood closeness with Nala into something more, the film ending with them both ruling the savannah together, because they loved each other.

Yeong envied Nala to no end. If he could sing a beautiful, romantic musical number to win Gon’s affections in the span of just under three minutes, he would have done so a long time ago.

Not, of course, that pining over Gon was going to be an issue for him. He was focusing on Jihun, and decidedly not letting his memories run wild with bittersweet childhood nostalgia.

A few other things were the same as well. The two worlds shared a few musical artists, and a few TV dramas, but there were a lot that Yeong didn’t recognise. It was a strange experience, to see groups of teenagers gush over boybands he had never even heard of, and he wondered how much of what he couldn’t understand was due to the fact that he was from another world, and how much of it was knowledge that existed in Corea too, and that he would maybe have known if he had been a few years younger.

Thirty years old wasn’t ancient, was it? Seriously, he couldn’t let himself feel old when he hadn’t even had his first proper boyfriend yet, and his siblings’ ages weren’t even in double digits.

No, he decided, as he left that shop to erase any trace of how out-of-touch he was, he wasn’t ancient. He was young, and fun, and cool, and no obscure boyband could take that away from him.

Unwilling to visit any other shops after that, Yeong sat down on a nearby public bench and shivered, pulling the two sides of his jacket around his body as far as they would go. He still had fifteen minutes before Jihun was scheduled to arrive, and at this point he really couldn’t think of anything better to do. Finally bored, and finally mustering up the courage to face the messages he had noticed ping through since he’d left home, he pulled out his phone, turned on the display, and–

“Yeong? Jo Yeong? Is that you?” an all-too-familiar voice called out, snapping Yeong’s head up to attention to ascertain the whereabouts of his King.

Of course, it didn’t take long for Yeong to realise his mistake. Gon was still back at home with Taeeul, doing whatever it was he did when he and his girlfriend were alone. The person that had called his name was Lee Jihun, Gon’s Korean counterpart, and Yeong’s date.

Seeing him in person, Yeong couldn’t quite believe his eyes. He was just – he was Gon. In face, in hair, in height, and he was a living, breathing person, and Yeong was going on a date with him.

The very thought made his heart soar. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, the moment that would make fifteen years of pining worth every second.

“Hi, Jihun,” he breathed, raising a hand in tentative greeting. That small effort was all Yeong could manage in his current state of being entirely overcome with a mix of so many different emotions it was impossible to name any one. The only coherent thought he could name was a still fairly abstract feeling of holy fuck, this is it. This is it.

If Yeong had been a weaker man, he might have collapsed into a sobbing heap of joyous tears at the sight of basically-Gon looking at him with the hope and excitement that preceded a romantically-motivated event such as this. There was genuine pleasure and warmth in Jihun’s all-too-familiar gaze, and Yeong could hardly believe that he was the one to cause it, even though Jihun hardly knew him, and Yeong had so far done nothing for Jihun that would enable him to prove himself worthy of his affections.

For a moment, Yeong let himself wonder how that look would develop if they did get together, and if they did fall in love. He ignored the sad, unhelpful little voice in his head that told him it would resemble exactly how Gon looked at him already, because his rational brain knew that couldn’t be true.

“You’re here early,” Jihun chuckled, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, “I was kind of hoping I’d be able to stop and buy you some flowers before the date, but I guess that plan’s been ruined now.”

Jihun was going to buy him flowers? Such a romantic gesture – how had he managed to land such a gentleman?

“I’m glad you didn’t actually,” Yeong admitted, brushing over how thrilled he was that Jihun even entertained the idea, “I’d probably have been pretty allergic to them, and me sneezing and getting itchy eyes the whole time is hardly the image I want to portray on a first date.”

“What a relief, then!” Jihun remarked, offering his hand to pull Yeong up from his seat on the bench. He took it, savouring the way even his hand felt like Gon’s, how Jihun’s clasp was reminiscent of Gon’s on the way over to Korea, firm enough to be confident, but not too firm as to be uncomfortable.

“Are you cold?” Jihun then asked, probably noting the way even Yeong could feel himself shivering after not really bringing enough layers. It had been warm in Corean Busan, so he thought he had been well prepared, but he realised he must look like an idiot surrounded all the by pedestrians in warmer coats.

After a moment’s hesitation as he debated whether or not it would give a better impression to appear tough and manly and impervious to the cold, Yeong’s willpower gave way and he nodded. Wasting very little time, Jihun let go of Yeong’s hand to take off his own coat, draping it around Yeong’s shoulders as Yeong stood frozen in awe.

“You –” he stammered, “You really don’t have to do that. Aren’t you going to be cold now instead?”

Jihun shook his head. “I probably dressed up a little too warmly, ‘cause I was roasting in there. You look like you need it far more than I do.”

“Thanks,” Yeong whispered, dropping his head as he gratefully pulled the coat across his torso, hoping he was hiding the heat he could feel spreading across his cheeks.

Once Yeong finished adjusting the coat, Jihun took his hand again, causing warmth to spread through his soul as well as his physical body.

“Do you think the restaurant might let us in now?” Yeong wondered aloud, narrowing his eyes at the waitress through the window who he was sure was the one who had kicked him out before. “They weren’t ready half an hour ago, but in fairness I did arrive forty-five minutes early.”

“Forty five minutes?” Jihun exclaimed, turning his head down to stare incredulously at Yeong, “You came here forty-five minutes early? Have you been sitting here the whole time? No wonder you’re cold – we’re going in, whether they like it or not.”

Yeong tried to protest as Jihun ushered him into the restaurant, saying that he had really only been outside for about five minutes when Jihun arrived, but his date was having none of it.

Seems like stubbornness wasn’t resigned to just one Lee Gon, huh. Despite not growing up as royalty, this one too liked to take charge and do things his own way, whether the people around him liked it or not.

The familiarity of it made Yeong smile, as well as making him a little more compliant than he perhaps would have been otherwise. He could get used to being stubbornly fussed over and looked after.

Similarly to how Gon stubbornly looked after and fussed over him after his injury, he realised. Yeong wasn’t sure what to make of that revelation, so he brushed over it, focusing instead on the Gon he had with him in the present, who was engaged in a heated discussion with the waitress Yeong met earlier.

“Yes, I’m aware we’re a little early,” he pressed, “but my date was freezing to death outside, and I can see you have tables for two free already, so can’t you just put us on one of those instead?”

My date. Hearing those words in Gon’s voice in regards to himself made Yeong’s soul ascend to a higher plane, and he tried his utmost not to let himself appear too ruffled by what was, at the end of the day, an objective fact.

The poor waitress, however, did a far worse job than Yeong at not appearing flustered, and considering Jihun’s firm tone, he could hardly blame her.

“Sorry sir,” she babbled, “it’s my first day, and I – um, right away sir. Sirs. Sorry.” With that, she led them to one of the free tables, and while they were settling down she grabbed a lighter to light the candle in the middle of the table, cementing the meal as something that really was going to be purposefully romantic.

It had been hit or miss in Yeong’s dating past as to whether the waiting staff realised he was on a date with whatever man sat opposite him, so a part of him really appreciated Jihun speaking out and making a fuss about Yeong as his date.

The other part of him just felt bad for the poor waitress that had been landed with them.

Before he could chide Jihun for the mistreatment, his date spoke first, drawing Yeong’s attention away from where she was busying herself tending to other tables.

“You know, when you said you were from Busan I always imagined you to speak with a Busan accent, not as if you’ve just stepped out of a historical drama. Where’d you even learn to speak that posh, anyway?” Jihun questioned, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Yeong.

“Aren’t you meant to start this off with questions like ‘how are you,’ or ‘how have you been?’” Yeong countered, barely hiding his amusement at Jihun’s unorthodoxy.

“I already know how your past week has been, we’ve been texting every day. I’m now far more interested in this, because no-one in the last century has actually spoken like you do. So spill.”

“My job, I suppose,” Yeong mused, wondering how many details of his real life it would be safe to leak on a first date. “I have to be incredibly prim and proper to maintain my boss’ appearance, and I guess some of that propriety has stuck.”

“Don’t you work in private security though?” Jihun noted, pursing his lips like Gon would when he’s puzzling over a particularly difficult equation. “Why would that be necessary?”

“My boss is just like that. There’s so many rules and etiquettes I have to follow, it’s practically impossible to keep track of it all.”

“Jeez, and I thought the military was strict,” Jihun remarked, running his hand through his fringe that Yeong now realised was cropped a little shorter than Gon’s own.

“Oh, you have no idea. I’ve been in the military, and it is nothing compared to my current job. My colleagues and I have to be a special kind of mentally strong.”

“You were in the military?” Jihun’s eyes widened, his interest suddenly caught. “What branch?”

“Navy. I managed to work my way up to Lieutenant Commander before I quit.”

“When did you quit?”

“When I was twenty… so I guess that’s ten years ago now?”

Jihun let out a low whistle, his awe evident.

“Jo Yeong,” he marvelled, “you are a freak of nature. How the hell did you manage to work up the ranks that fast? It’s taken me ages to get to where I am now.”

“I guess the higher-ups just liked me,” Yeong shrugged, and Jihun’s face was left aghast.

“That’s still insane. If you’d carried on at that pace, you could be in charge of the whole navy right now. Why the hell’d you quit?”

“Better opportunities?” Yeong offered, but Jihun didn’t seem convinced. “Look,” he continued, “though my current job is stricter in some ways, it pays incredibly well, and it’s worth every second. I don’t think I would trade it for anything else.”

You’d trade it for Prince Consort, that annoying inner voice reminded him, ignoring how much of an impossibility that notion was. Because of how small the chance was that Seungah’s ‘Operation Make Jo Yeong Prince Consort’ was going to be successful, his statement to Jihun might as well have been true.

“Shame,” Jihun sighed, “if you were heading up the navy, maybe I wouldn’t have to pretend to my navy friends that my date was a girl called Jo Yeongmi. It has been a pain in the ass trying to remember to refer to you as a woman, and to refuse to show them any pictures, because as soon as I let slip I was going on a date they have been uncomfortably obsessed with my love life, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep the act up.”

“If you weren’t ready to keep the secret, why did you sign up for tinder?” Yeong asked, cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrows at his date.

“I didn’t. This past week I’ve been on leave visiting my cousin, and his teenage daughter stole my phone and set the account up, saying it would be ‘good for me to get myself out there,’ or some bullshit like that. When I got my phone back, she had already matched me with a few guys, and I ignored most of them, but when I scanned your profile something about you was too tempting to let go, so I decided ‘fuck it’ and risked it.”

“I was that special?” Yeong brought a hand to his mouth in shock, unable to really comprehend what he was hearing.

“Yeah, I guess you were,” Jihun affirmed with a warm smile. “I’m glad I did, you’re even more beautiful in person than you were on your profile.”

“I’d like to think that’s because it wasn’t actually me on my profile,” Yeong admitted, and this time it was Jihun’s turn to be confused. “It was my… twin,” he explained, “my experience was kind of similar to yours, actually, except in my case it was my friends who signed me up without me knowing, and they got my twin to pose for the photos instead of using existing ones. I, um, I did swipe right on you, though. You are… sort of exactly my ideal type.”

“I am?” Jihun’s expression morphed from his earlier confusion into one of shock, then delight, then bashful embarrassment in the span of a couple of seconds. “Maybe I need to get out more, because I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that about me.”

“You’ve been surrounded by too many straight boys in the navy,” Yeong laughed, “trust me, you’re gorgeous. I bet far more people have fantasised about you than you realise.”

Well, Yeong wasn’t necessarily sure about Jihun, but he knew that there were plenty of Lee Gon fans in the Kingdom who rivalled Yeong in terms of admiration of their king, and as Jihun was Gon, that was basically the same thing.

Seriously, though, first his own counterpart and then Gon’s not knowing their worth in this regard – were people’s tastes in the Republic really that royally fucked up?

“I don’t know about that,” Jihun disputed, raising a hand to stop Yeong when he made a move to press his point further. “Still, though, what a coincidence that for both of us it was thanks to people meddling that we found each other.”

“Some might call it fate,” Yeong noted, and Jihun nodded in agreement.

“We must be soulmates, then,” he added, raising his still-empty glass in appreciation of the strange ways of the universe.

“Yeah,” Yeong sighed, suddenly overcome with a wave of guilty apathy, “I guess we must be.”

He would have loved to believe that Jihun was right and that the circumstances of their meeting did in fact make them soulmates, but since their conversation the day before, Yeong’s traitorous mind was only willing to accept that his soulmate was the real Gon, however many times he left Yeong’s side to run into Taeeul’s arms.

Hearing Jihun call Yeong his soulmate in Gon’s voice, but without any of the heart that was soaked into Gon’s words – it just seemed cheap, and disappointing. When Gon called Yeong his soulmate, he said it as if Yeong was the most important person in the world. In all the worlds. And Yeong could almost believe he really felt that way.

No.

No, Jo Yeong. No. That was exactly the type of thought you were trying to avoid. This was no time to get emotional about the Gon you can’t have, not with a Gon you can have sitting right in front of you.

Get. It. Together.

Luckily, the waitress picked that time to arrive to take their order, swiftly coming back with a bottle of red wine for the two to share. Yeong didn’t usually drink, but the worst consequences he could think of for a loose tongue tonight was a confused Jihun and potentially a ruined date; nothing close to the usual consequences of losing his entire livelihood.

As the date progressed, it became more and more obvious to Yeong that Jihun wasn’t Gon. Of course they had no reason to be similar, they were different people and had led very different lives, but every little difference Yeong noticed was jarring to someone who had spent his whole life so close to the real Lee Gon.

There was the difference in his hair that Yeong had noticed earlier to start off, but there were a couple of other physical differences too, like how Jihun’s muscles were on the bulkier side while Gon’s were more lean, and how Jihun had a scar on his left wrist, which he revealed he had got when he was just a cadet. Not in any actual training, mind, he had scratched it on a loose nail in a storeroom he had escaped to with a couple of other cadets to have some time away from it all.

Then there was his voice. While it had the same timbre as Gon’s, Jihun’s accent and general way of talking was vastly different. It was almost uncomfortable to hear Gon speaking so casually, as if he was just another guy on the street instead of the country’s reigning monarch. Even when Gon let his guard down, when it was just him and Yeong at home, he would never sound like Jihun, who had grown up in a poor neighbourhood in Seoul instead of the royal palace.

Lastly, there were his mannerisms. Where Gon held himself in a manner that one could only describe as ‘uptight’ thanks to his hours of etiquette training in the palace, Jihun was far more relaxed, leaning back in his chair, smiling more openly, more frequently, and more sincerely, gesturing more with his arms as he spoke, and occasionally leaning over the table to touch Yeong’s hands in a subtle show of affection. Oh, that was another thing – Jihun was far more overtly affectionate than Gon, but Yeong supposed that made sense as they were on a date, and he doubted Jihun’s uncle had ever tried to murder him with his bare hands, cementing a lifelong aversion to touch.

Not that Gon ever seemed to show any signs of his touch aversion when he was around Taeeul, or when he was around Yeong for that matter. Then again, they were both special cases. Taeeul was his girlfriend, and Yeong guessed that his love for her overcame the immense discomfort he had explained he felt whenever his skin came into contact with another’s. In Yeong’s case, they’d spent years working together to build up the trust necessary to allow Gon to let Yeong touch him, as physical contact isn’t something that can be avoided when it’s Yeong’s job to protect Gon’s body with his own.

Still, though, he tried not to do it too often, letting Gon initiate any touch between them unless it was an emergency. After all, it would be wrong for Yeong to abuse his privileges for his own emotional benefit, especially when he didn’t know the real extent to which Gon was comfortable with him, despite his assurances that it was ‘fine.’

That did, admittedly, make it difficult for Yeong to return Jihun’s affections, though he did attempt a little loving touch of his own from time to time, relishing in the selfishness of it, and the warm guilt he felt despite there not being any actual problem with making that contact with Jihun.

Maybe the wine was beginning to get to his head, because he could feel himself relaxing just a little too much around this man that he’d really only just met. Despite Jihun’s differences to the real Gon, he still felt very familiar, and Yeong could feel his internal barriers slipping away, one by one.

“You know,” he remarked, as they were just starting to tuck into their food, “is it weird that I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than a week? You’re so easy to talk to, it’s like I’ve known you my whole life.”

“I feel the same way,” Jihun admitted, smiling warmly at Yeong. “I don’t know whether it’s because you’re from a military background too, or whether you remind me of someone I knew when I was younger, but you’re just very easy to get on with. I would say you’re very easy to love, but I don’t quite think we’re at that stage in our relationship yet.”

“No, we’re probably not,” Yeong laughed, internally screaming at Jihun’s statement. Easy to love? Even as a cute toddler he hadn’t been easy to love, and now he was a gruff, overly-serious, and slightly pathetic loser. Love was the last thing he was expecting.

“At this rate, though, we might get there soon,” Jihun joked, and Yeong was finding it harder and harder by the second to keep his screaming internal. “I may even have to introduce you to some of my navy friends, and swear them into secrecy or something.”

“Woah, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” Yeong chuckled nervously, looking down at his food to avoid blushing overtly in Jihun’s line of sight, “we haven’t even finished our first date yet, who knows what’s going to happen?”

“It’s going well though, right?” Jihun leaned down to look up at Yeong where he was hiding his gaze, and Yeong was definitely not reminded of how Gon had done the same thing, just before the date. Yeong smiled inadvertently, though whether it was because of Jihun’s antics or the memory of Gon he wasn’t sure. In an uncharacteristic burst of confidence, he tilted Jihun’s head back up with a couple of fingers, creating a small but noticeable blush at the tops of his ears.

Yeah, the wine was definitely kicking in. Curse his embarrassingly low tolerance for alcohol!

“I’d say it’s going very well,” Yeong affirmed, and Jihun’s smile lit up the room, just like Gon’s did whenever he was truly inspired.

“Oh thank God,” he breathed, “because I really haven’t ever been on enough dates to be able to tell.”

“And you think I have? Come on Jihun, neither of us set up our own dating profiles, do you really think I’m some kind of dating pro? My love life thus far has been a train wreck.”

“You’ve actually had a love life? Tell me more, Casanova, it’s gotta be more exciting than mine, which peaked in high school when I got caught kissing the only other gay boy I knew of in the school.”

“Shit, you got caught?” Yeong exclaimed, “Did it get taken ok?”

Yeong considered for a second that he might be overreacting to Jihun’s quite blasé statement, but he’d be kidding himself if he didn’t acknowledge how just the notion of getting caught with another man filled his heart with dread. And that was now – if he’d been seen kissing a boy as a high-schooler…

Needless to say, he wouldn’t be in this world and talking to Jihun as Gon’s Unbreakable Sword, the fearsome Captain Jo.

“Well, no,” Jihun admitted, leaning back in his chair. “We were caught by the deputy-head, who phoned home to tell on us which was honestly pretty rude, and did I mention before that I lived with my uncle? Well he didn’t exactly take the news well, and long story short I ended up in military school, and that pretty much killed any chance I had at having a love life. In fairness, though, it did turn me into the dashing naval officer you see here today, so it couldn’t have been all bad. But hey, don’t go turning the question back onto me, Jo Yeong, I wanted to hear about your ex-boyfriends.”

“Do I really have to?” Yeong complained, but Jihun only motioned for him to continue. “Fine,” he sighed, “after leaving the military I decided to go on a personal journey of self-discovery, going on a string of dates with anyone who’d say yes, except because I was petrified of anyone finding out, I smothered my face in make-up and gave myself an alternate identity so my real name wouldn’t get out.”

“Alternate identity?” Jihun questioned, and Yeong nodded in confirmation.

“Choi Junseo, air-headed art student at Busan University. It was cringeworthy as hell, and not a phase of my life I have any intention of repeating. My dating life has been quiet since then, probably because – wait, are you ready to be seriously disappointed in me?”

“Both our love lives are disappointing, how bad can it really be?”

“I fell in love with a straight boy and my idiot brain refused to lose all hope that he’d someday love me back,” Yeong delivered with as straight a face as he could manage, trying to appear as matter-of-fact as Jihun did when he was telling his story, which was really very difficult when Yeong’s wound was still pretty fresh.

It really shouldn’t be fresh. He had had far too long to get over Gon, but had his heart listened to his head? Absolutely not.

“Oh, Yeong.” Jihun rested his head in his hand, and looked up at Yeong in sympathy. “I don’t know whether to laugh at the hopelessness or give you a hug.”

“Laughing at me is fine. It’s frankly what I deserve for kidding myself this long.”

“Or you deserve a hug, because he made you sad and I can see in your eyes you’re still sad about it.”

“Jihun, I’m fine, really,” Yeong tried to protest, but Jihun came round to the other side of the table and wrapped his arms around Yeong. It wasn’t like Gon’s hugs – those were deep, and long, and emotional, whereas Jihun’s was quicker and softer – but it was still a nice gesture, almost as if it was Gon himself comforting Yeong for all the heartache he’d caused him over the years.

“Thank you,” Yeong whispered, as Jihun broke away but lingered next to Yeong, as if he didn’t really want to go back.

“You’re even more beautiful up close,” Jihun murmured, though whether it was to Yeong or to himself, Yeong wasn’t sure.

“So are you.” A fact Yeong had known for a long time. While he hated having to protect Gon with his body in a crisis, because he knew there was a chance he or Gon could get seriously injured or worse, and while he also hated practising those manoeuvres because it meant Gon would have to put up with far more physical touch than he was used to, a guilty part of him relished the opportunity to be so close to Gon.

That same guilty part of him was doing somersaults in glee at the fact that Lee Gon was finally voicing the thoughts that Yeong always wished he had in those moments. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t the real Lee Gon, it was ecstasy for someone as romance-starved as Yeong.

“Is it weird that I kind of want to kiss you?” Jihun asked, but Yeong only heard Gon. Only saw Gon, gaze drenched in desire, and only really wanted to see Gon so he could kid himself that his dreams were coming true.

He’d imagined this moment a thousand times over in a thousand different ways, and it was so surreal that it was finally, actually happening, and he’d get to openly show his love for the man he’d yearned for since he was fifteen years old, and it took every inch of Yeong’s willpower not to make out with him there and then, in the middle of the restaurant.

His rational mind told him to take things slow, that kissing wasn’t something you were meant to do on a first date, but Yeong would be damned if he was going to pass up this prime opportunity to feed his broken heart in ways it had never imagined would be a reality.

“It’s not weird at all,” Yeong breathed, barely holding himself back, “I want the same thing.”

“May I, then?” Jihun whispered, and Yeong nodded as if he was in a trance, staring at the way Jihun’s lips rested after he voiced the question that Yeong had been waiting so long to hear.

Slowly, tentatively, Jihun began to lean in, and Yeong did the same, closing his eyes to block out the outside world, and so he could revel in the fact that his lips were about to touch Gon’s.

And then they did, and even that first contact sent electricity running down Yeong’s spine because that touch was real and it was Gon and it was wonderful and it was Gon and it–

No, it wasn’t.

It wasn’t Gon.

The man he was kissing wasn’t Gon.

This wasn’t the person he had been pining over for half his life, this wasn’t Yeong’s childhood best friend and closest confidant, the man he had loved since he was four years old. This wasn’t his soulmate, despite Jihun’s earlier claims.

In fact, Jihun was basically a stranger. There was nothing between them, nothing real that hadn’t been amplified by the fact that Jihun shared a face with the person Yeong loved the most.

He wasn’t interested in kissing Jihun yet, he barely knew the guy! Though Yeong had tried and tried to get over Gon, to try and get his head to convince his heart he wasn’t worth the effort, his King was still the only person he was interested in getting this intimate with, and to do it with anyone else felt almost like cheating.

And the worst part was, this date had proved that dating Jihun wasn’t going to help with that, because he would never be able to see Jihun as anyone other than Gon. Jihun deserved better than that, deserved a man who would be able to love him for him, rather than because he reminded them of the person they were really in love with.

Jihun deserved better than Yeong, and his half-assed attempt at new love.

With that, Yeong’s lips turned to lead, and he could hardly stand another moment of touch before he pushed Jihun off, standing up and looking down at him in horror. His date looked distraught, and it broke Yeong’s heart to see Gon looking so hurt because of something he had done, but he had to remind himself that it wasn’t Gon, it wasn’t Gon, it wasn’t Gon!

“Yeong?” Go – Jihun whimpered, “Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?” and Yeong couldn’t take it anymore, it was all just too much.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” was all he managed to say in way of an explanation, before escaping to the bathroom and locking himself in the first free cubicle, panting against the door.

What the hell had he done? How on Earth had he even let himself get in this situation? Why had no-one stopped him?

He had just spent a whole week leading Jihun on, when Yeong knew in his heart that he wasn’t really interested in Jihun at all, he really just wanted another shot at Gon.

How fucking selfish was that?

Now Jihun was upset, and it was all Yeong’s fault.

Easy to love his ass. This was the real Jo Yeong coming out and showing his face to the world.

Yeong pulled his phone out, his sense of self-preservation telling him it was to help him calm down, but his motivation was really to torture himself with the messages of good luck, to inflict some well-earned emotional punishment onto his guilty soul.

It blew Yeong’s mind how messed up he must be to have manipulated them all into wishing him well on his immoral quest for artificial love.

CHAT: You and Jo Eunseob

Jo Eunseob:

Good luck Yeongie!!! Go and win his heart, I know you can do it, and know I’ll be rooting for you from here :D

Jo Eunseob:

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Oh, Eunseob. How naïve you were, to have had such blind faith in Yeong’s motivations.

CHAT: You and Myeong Nari

Myeong Nari:

Have fun on your date, Yeong! I’m sure you’ll enjoy it more than your fake date with my counterpart, because this time you’ll finally get your Gon <3

That one threatened to bring a tear to Yeong’s eyes with how wrong it was. He didn’t let it, didn’t give himself the luxury of crying and potentially attracting feelings of sympathy instead of stone cold disdain.

CHAT: You and Jeong Taeeul

Jeong Taeeul:

I hope your date goes well!!

Jeong Taeeul:

It had better, because Gon is worried sick about you and I think it would kill him if she treats you in any way that’s less than perfect

Gon was worried about his date mistreating him? He really couldn’t be any further from the truth, and it hurt Yeong more than he cared to admit to think that if Gon ever found out what he did, he would be so, so disappointed.

No, hurt was good. He should let it hurt. It was meant to hurt.

CHAT: You and Kang Shinjae

Kang Shinjae:

Yeong, I know you’re not going to believe this but Gon is SO jealous it’s honestly kind of sad

Kang Shinjae:

He keeps checking his phone every couple of minutes for a text from you, and he keeps saying he’s fine but he’s obviously really uncomfortable

Kang Shinjae:

And ok, you might be thinking that maybe he’s just worried about you on your date, but like… when I asked him if he was jealous, he responded with, and I quote, “shut the fuck up.” If he wasn’t jealous, he would have just said that he wasn’t, instead of getting defensive and avoiding the question!!!!!!!

Kang Shinjae:

Please come back to him soon, normally I wouldn’t give a shit that he’s feeling crappy, but this is a perfect opportunity for you to make your move!!!

Kang Shinjae:

[picture attached]

LOOK AT HOW MOPEY HE IS, DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN??????

Kang Shinjae:

You’d better come back right now and give that man a hug. I think it would be beneficial for both of you.

You:

Fuck off Shinjae, we both know he’s straight. He’s feeling stressed anyway at the moment, so whatever he said to you, that’s probably why.

Yeong wasn’t going to let himself believe Shinjae’s bold claims. Today was not the day. He had to get it into his stupid, ignorant little brain that Gon. Did. Not. Love. Him. Not at all.

He didn’t deserve Gon’s love, not if he was going to start acting the way he did with Jihun.

Maybe he should tell Gon about his feelings, just to taste the pain of the rejection as he loses everything he’s ever known.

With that, he opened the chat he had with Gon. The real Gon. The straight Gon, the one who wouldn’t ever love him.

CHAT: You and Gon <3

Gon <3:

Sorry, sorry, I went and gave Taeeul a hug like you said

Gon <3:

Are you still there, Yeong-ah?

Gon <3:

You’re probably on your date now, having a great time with Mysterious Ji-girl

Gon <3:

I hope you’re enjoying yourself!! I’m sure you are, I’m sure she’ll love you to no end

Gon <3:

If you see these, could you give me a sign that you’re doing ok? I need to make sure nothing has happened to my Unbreakable Sword

Gon <3:

You’re very precious to me, you know

Gon <3:

Ok but seriously, could you discreetly send me a message? A little smiley face or a thumbs up, just to say that you’re alright

Gon <3:

Or even a phone call – maybe you could sneak off to the bathroom and tell me how you’re doing?

Gon <3:

I miss you, Yeong-ah. It’s just not the same without you by my side.

“Yeong?” Gon’s – Jihun’s voice cut through the silence, and Yeong winced, body physically retreating in a futile attempt to get him out of the situation.

He was trapped in the cubicle. There was no escaping his fuck-up this time.

“Are you ok, Yeong?” Jihun asked again, and the door to Yeong’s cubicle creaked as Jihun leaned against it before knocking a couple of times. “I’m really sorry if I did something, but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Yeong hesitated, considering his words before saying, “Is it cliché if I say ‘it’s not you, it’s me?’”

Jihun sighed, then laughed a little to himself, a short, pained laugh. “This is about that straight boy, isn’t it?”

“How did you guess?”

“You were still upset by him. It’s not a stretch to assume you’re not really over him.”

“How very insightful,” Yeong remarked, and Jihun laughed again.

“You must really love him,” he sighed, and fuck, Yeong couldn’t argue with that.

“I’m sorry.” He paused. “I thought I was ready to move on, and I wasn’t. I should have known, really. Part of why I was excited to date you… You look exactly like him. And I thought if I couldn’t have him, I could at least have someone that reminded me of him, but while we were kissing I realised I was only interested in you because of him, instead of valuing you as your own person. I’m really, really sorry, Jihun, I know how selfish this sounds, and that’s because it is, and I’m sorry for leading you on and making you take the unnecessary risk of dating me.”

“It’s ok,” Jihun soothed, after taking a moment to process. “I mean, it’s not exactly ok, but I’m glad you told me now instead of like… ten dates in. It’s a shame, though. I really liked you.”

“I’m sorry,” Yeong repeated, sitting on the toilet lid and tucking his knees into his chest. “You’re a really lovely guy, and you don’t deserve an asshole like me. Please don’t take this as a sign that people wouldn’t like you for you, because I’m sure you’ll find someone amazing. Your real soulmate.”

“Thanks,” Jihun said, remarkably calm as Yeong was falling apart at the seams. It was becoming harder and harder for him to keep the tears from falling, and he hated himself for his weakness but that only made the feeling worse. “I’m sure you’ll find yours too.”

Yeong didn’t have the heart to voice the fact that he’d found his already, because sappy remarks about Gon were surely the last things that Jihun wanted to hear.

“You’re being way too nice to me,” Yeong scolded, albeit half-heartedly.

“Do you want me to start cursing you out instead?” Jihun queried, a hint of amusement tainting his disappointment.

“I think it would be more appropriate.”

“I’m not going to do that. A screaming match isn’t going to get either of us anywhere. Maybe I’m a little hurt, but I don’t hate you enough for that. I’ll get over it,” he laughed, in what felt like a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

“You must be a very patient person, then,” Yeong commented, mood not really lightened at all.

“It has been said,” Jihun agreed, “but really I just think I’m practical, and I don’t see the point in getting angry. It just makes more people more upset, and that tends to be the opposite of what these sorts of situations need. I think you’re hurt by this maybe more than I am, so I think you need love, rather than hate.”

“No, I don’t,” Yeong protested, but Jihun wasn’t having a word of it.

“Yes, you do. Do you think you could open this door so we can hug it out?”

It almost felt like an order from his King, though he knew it wasn’t. He had half a mind not to do what Jihun said on principle, to prove to himself that he really could distinguish between him and Gon, however Yeong was a fundamentally selfish person, and the desire that won out was his unquenchable desire to be loved, even if he was an awful person.

He opened the door to see Jihun smiling at him with Gon’s warm, caring, genuine smile, and he couldn’t hold himself together any longer. His long-suppressed tears began to fall, falling thick and falling fast onto Jihun’s chest as the other man wrapped him up into his arms, gently rubbing Yeong’s back as he cried.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” he managed to choke, words muffled through Yeong’s sobs and the layers of the fabric of Jihun’s clothes.

“Yeong. You said yourself that you thought you were ready for this, and you didn’t realise you weren’t. I’m not going to hold your mistake against you. I actually still quite like you a lot, so even if you’re not going to be my boyfriend, I’d still like to be your friend, if you’ll let me. Lord knows I need some more gay friends.”

“Even now you’ve seen me at my worst?” Yeong half-sobbed half-laughed, unable to really comprehend Jihun’s boundless kindness.

“This is your worst? You are a god among men if this is your worst. Of course I want to be friends with you Yeong, I meant what I said when I told you you’re very easy to get on with, and I’m sure that’s the case whether there’s any romantic intention or not.”

“You must be the only person in all of Korea to think that – I don’t even think my existing friends think I’m easy to get on with. I’m way too uptight, and I think sometimes they’re surprised when I reveal I actually have feelings. Are you sure that’s someone you want to be friends with?”

“I’m sure. Now give me your phone, I want to give you my number so we can talk outside of tinder.”

Yeong didn’t have the mental energy left to do anything but oblige, so he handed Jihun his phone, screen ready for him to set himself as a new contact. He did, and he sent himself a message so he had Yeong’s number on his own phone, and Yeong wondered how the hell he had been lucky enough to get away so scot-free.

Sure, he hadn’t found a boyfriend, but out of this whole fiasco he had managed to make a friend, all on his own this time, without the help of circumstance or Gon’s input. While to some it wouldn’t seem like much, it was certainly an achievement for someone as socially inept as Yeong.

They left pretty soon after that, paying for the meal and saying their goodbyes outside the restaurant. Jihun left Yeong his coat, saying that Yeong probably needed it more than he did, and refusing to take it back even when Yeong insisted. At least Yeong had managed to wear Jihun down enough to give him his cousin’s address, so that he could drop it back round the next day.

As he pulled out his phone to call for a taxi back to Taeeul’s, he noticed Gon had left a few more texts since the last time he had checked.

CHAT: You and Gon <3

Gon <3:

I saw you read my messages – are you ok, Yeong-ah?????????

Gon <3:

Please just give me a sign, this limbo is killing me

Gon <3:

Your silence is really worrying, and I need to make sure you’re alright

Gon <3:

Call me!!!!!!!!!!

Gon <3:

That’s an order!!!!!!!!!

Something about the familiarity of Gon misusing his status, even through an informal text message, brought a sense of comfort to Yeong that even Jihun’s hugs couldn’t bring. Though he figured Gon could stand to wait a couple more minutes as he made the call to the taxi company, he made sure to call his King right afterwards.

The events of earlier were settling now, and Yeong decided that maybe he could allow himself a little home comfort as he pressed on Gon’s contact name to call him. After all, he was only a lowly guard, so who was he to refuse a direct order?

Gon picked up on the first ring. Others might have found that sad, or pathetic, but Yeong just thought it was cute.

“Yeong-ah!” he exclaimed into the phone, “How dare you take so long to get back to me – I swear I’ll have you beheaded when you get back, and I mean it this time.”

Revelling in the sound of the real Gon’s voice, Yeong hardly registered the empty threat made against him. This was Gon, not just someone who wore his features. This was really the man Yeong loved.

Yeong hadn’t realised just how much his soul was craving the real thing. Even if he’d had a real shot with Jihun, the flutters Gon’s counterpart created in Yeong’s heart were nothing compared to the warmth that enveloped his entire being just from hearing a few words from his love. His soulmate.

“You’ll miss me even more than you did tonight if you behead me,” Yeong reminded him, and Yeong took Gon’s silence afterwards as a sign of him admitting defeat.

“How was the date?” Gon then asked, voice newly bright as he changed topics less-than-subtly. “Are you ready to introduce me to Mystery Ji yet? Or at least tell me her name?”

And there it was. Gon was so insistent on Yeong going out and finding love, so excited for him going on a date, that Yeong was almost reluctant to let him down.

He couldn’t lie, though. That would mean far too much storytelling for Yeong’s exhausted mind.

“A failure, no, and no,” Yeong confessed, pulling Jihun’s coat tighter round himself in a sad imitation of a comforting hug. “Don’t get mad at my date, though, it’s me that messed it up. Turns out I wasn’t as ready to start dating as I thought I was. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, Yeong-ah.” There was a brief pause as Yeong could just make out Gon telling the others that it didn’t go well, before he continued, “You’re not disappointing anyone, I promise. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. I’m sorry for putting the idea into your head.”

“Gon,” Yeong whined, “you don’t have to apologise for anything. I went on this date because I though I wanted to, not because I thought you wanted me to. I messed up all on my own.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Gon carefully probed, his words tainted by a hesitance that wasn’t usually present in the King’s voice.

“Not really. If I talk about it, it’s just going to make me feel worse. I just want to move on and forget it ever happened.”

“Ok then. Do you want a hug when you get back?”

“Group hug for Yeongie!” Yeong could hear Eunseob yell in the background, followed by what he could only assume was shushing from Nari.

“I’m not sure. I probably don’t deser–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Yeong-ah,” Gon scolded, and Yeong wondered why he even bothered to try. “You missed your chance at a choice, now you’re getting a hug whether you like it or not.”

Gosh, he really was stubborn when he wanted to be. Though he really didn’t want to, a selfish part of Yeong appreciated his uncompromising care, and for a moment Yeong wondered if this was what Gon would be like as a boyfriend; giving Yeong love regardless of whether he felt like he wanted it.

If he was being honest with himself, that’s probably what he needed. Too bad his soulmate already had someone else he loved.

“Isn’t that immoral, to force it on me without my consent?” Yeong protested, though his heart wasn’t really in it, and Gon knew that.

“What if I make it an official order? Captain Jo, when you return to Taeeul’s I command you to engage in a hug with your King. Other acceptable actions would be an embrace, a cuddle, or even a snuggle. I trust that I’ve made myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Yeong laughed, unable to contain himself when Gon was doing everything in his power to cheer him up. He didn’t think an official order had ever brought him quite this much joy.

“Good. Come back quickly, Captain Jo. Your King needs you.”

“I’ll come as quick as I can, which is as fast as my cab will go when it arrives. I’m afraid you’ll have to survive on your own a little longer until then.”

“I don’t know if I can make it a little longer, Yeong-ah,” Gon complained, before quietly adding, “These people from the Republic are killing me, I desperately need someone here who gets me.”

“I heard that!” Yeong heard Taeeul say, prompting Gon to awkwardly apologise.

“See what I have to put up with?” he then whispered, a hint of worry in his tone. “Help me, Yeong-ah! I think my girlfriend is going to kill me!”

“She won’t kill you,” Yeong sighed, “even if she wanted to, there are witnesses. Taeeul is too smart to kill you with people watching.”

“Still, Yeong-ah, I need my Unbreakable Sword! I don’t feel safe without you!”

“Look, my taxi is here now, ok?” Yeong assured Gon as he watched a sleek, silver saloon car pull up beside him, and ask for Jo Yeong. He held his hand over the phone’s microphone and speaker as he confirmed his identity with the driver, and then climbed into the back seat. After giving the driver the address, he informed Gon, “I’m on my way now, so I won’t be long. Do you think you can cope until then?”

“I can if you’ll stay on the phone to me,” Gon told him, and, well, Yeong wasn’t exactly going to complain about talking to Gon more.

“Fine,” he conceded, “but I’m done talking about my date. You should tell me about yours – what world did you and Taeeul visit this time?”

Yeong tried not to let it hurt when he acknowledged that it was Taeeul taking Gon round the different universes. He still hadn’t quite forgiven her for stealing his idea, and really he doubted he ever would.

“It was sort of like the Kingdom, actually,” Gon started, dragging his words out slightly longer than usual, as if he was wondering what exactly to say next. “I was still King in this other world – well, not me, it was my counterpart in that world, but you know what I mean. It was different, though, because in this world I was already married.”

“Married? What was your wife like?” Yeong asked, not really wanting to know the answer. This was a different Gon, he told himself, but if the universes had to match up, it was quite probable that whoever Gon was married to in that world was the person his own Gon would end up marrying, if his relationship with Taeeul didn’t work out.”

“Well,” Gon hesitated, taking a deep breath before saying, “there’s really no easy way to say this, and please don’t take this badly because I’ve already been very harshly interrogated about it.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” Yeong reasoned, “I’m not going to judge you if she was that world’s Koo Soryeong, or–”

“I was married to you, Yeong-ah. The King in that world was married to you.”

Yeong could have sworn the car had suddenly run out of oxygen, because after hearing that he couldn’t breathe.

How the hell? How the hell had that world’s Yeong managed to get that lucky?

Did he drug his Gon with some kind of love potion? Did he blackmail him into giving him what he wanted?

Both of those were far more believable than the perhaps more obvious truth, that his Gon simply loved him back.

And not just friendly love. Romantic love. Presumably sexual love.

That Yeong must have sold his soul to the devil. That was the only explanation for what Gon just told him.

From deep inside the phone, Yeong heard a faint voice that was undeniably Shinjae’s yell, “Fucking what? Lee Gon, you didn’t tell me this! Are you kidding?” There was a scuffling sound, and then Shinjae’s voice was louder, as he had presumably stolen the phone. “Yeong, did you just hear what I just heard? Did you just hear that? I’m moving into another room so I can talk freely because holy fucking shit, everything is coming together and I wish I was still a detective here because I miss this to no end.”

“You’re getting way too excited about this,” Yeong commented, trying to remain as deadpan as he could while internally his mind was as frenzied as Shinjae was acting.

“That’s because I’ve just figured something out, and I really think you’re going to like it. Ok, so what we know so far is that Gon and Taeeul went into that world where you and Gon are together, and what we also know is that apparently Gon got shit for it. Now, neither Gon nor Taeeul have informed anyone about this world until now, meaning that the only person he could have had shit from was in fact Taeeul. If it was Taeeul, as we can now assume, then why would she have a problem with who this alternate Gon was banging, and why would she direct this frustration at the real Gon?”

“Because he was the only other person there she knew, and I suppose because it made her concerned about her own relationship?” Yeong offered, heart sinking as he guessed the direction in which Shinjae was headed.

“Bingo! She’s concerned about her own relationship. If she felt secure in Gon’s love then she wouldn’t have had an issue, but it obviously touched on a doubt that was already there. That means Taeeul, to some degree, thinks Gon might have feelings for you. And she’s his girlfriend. That’s got to mean something. Taeeul’s an amazing detective, she wouldn’t make something up out of nothing, and she has most reason out of everyone to believe that Gon doesn’t like you. Add that to Gon not denying that he was jealous when you went out earlier, and then obsessively waiting to hear back from you, this is all creating a picture that points to your world looking a lot like that other world very soon.”

“Kang Shinjae,” Yeong sighed, rolling his eyes despite Shinjae not being around to see, “you’re forgetting something painfully obvious.”

“And what might that be?”

“Gon is strongly, deeply in love with Taeeul. Have you seen the way he kisses her every time they meet? It honestly belongs in a porno. Why would he do that with someone he wasn’t hopelessly attracted to?”

“Hear me out.”

“What?”

“He’s overcompensating. He feels so guilty about not really being in love with her that he’s going above and beyond to make it look like he is.”

“Or he just loves her, Shinjae! I know you want them to break up as much as I do, but it’s useless to start imagining problems that just aren’t there.”

“I promise I’m not imagining things, you just have to–”

“Kang Shinjae! Give me back my phone or so help me I will behead you,” Gon roared, scaring Yeong slightly as he used the voice he usually reserved for the Kingdom’s worst criminals.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Shinjae mocked, “I think I’ve said everything I need to. Think about it, Yeong!” he yelled into the receiver as Gon took back his phone, muttering to himself under his breath something about ‘Republic’ and ‘beheading’ and ‘every single fucking one of them.’

“This is why I was reluctant to say anything,” Gon complained, sighing into the receiver. “King Lee Chul’s sexual preferences make everyone around me go buck wild. You trust me though, don’t you Yeong-ah?”

“Yes,” Yeong assured him, “I do.” No matter what Shinjae said. Truth or not, if Yeong allowed himself to have even a glimmer of hope that Gon felt anything deeper than friendship about him, he knew he’d eventually be disappointed. He’d already been disappointed by Gon too many times to count over the span of his relationship with Taeeul, and Yeong was not about to let himself be disappointed again.

Believing Gon was straight was safer, really. At least with that knowledge he knew he was going to be left heartbroken, instead of letting himself hope so that when nothing eventually happened, his morale would have further to fall.

Better to keep himself at rock bottom, than let himself slip back there.

After all, even if Gon did like men, which he probably didn’t, who says Yeong would be the man he’d fall for?

***

After the fiasco of a day he’d had, Gon had half a mind to go back to Lee Chul’s world to give him what for.

Shinjae and Taeeul hadn’t even spoken about the other world before Gon told Yeong, but he too seemed to have come to the same conclusion that Gon’s girlfriend did. Even when he stole the phone back, Shinjae kept making little comments here and there along the lines of, ‘oh, quit flirting,’ and ‘tell your boyfriend I said hi.’

Gon didn’t appreciate it one bit. Denying each comment one by one so that Taeeul would stop glaring daggers at him was driving him insane, and he couldn’t wait for Yeong to arrive back and hopefully change the subject.

Not that he could express that desire, of course, because now any sort of desire he felt to be reunited with his Captain would be seen as cold, hard evidence that Gon was in love with him.

Couldn’t they see that he really didn’t want to have to consider whether their claims were true? That was a problem for a Lee Gon that was mentally prepared to deal with the ever-increasing possibility of letting his entire country down, and a Lee Gon that didn’t already have a girlfriend that he was meant to be in love with instead, and a Lee Gon that hadn’t taken a large emotional beating in the last three to five business days!

He tried to concentrate on the idle conversation he was having with Yeong, but that was near-impossible with all the buzz going on around him.

Even so, he managed it well enough until Yeong had to hang up to get out of the taxi, leaving Gon alone for the minute or so it would take him to reach Taeeul’s flat.

Eunseob and Nari, on the next sofa along, were talking in hushed tones, occasionally looking over at Gon in a way that made sure he knew that they were talking about him. He knew what it was they were talking about, of course, and a part of him wished they had the gall to at least talk about it in the open, instead of whispering behind his back.

Then again, another part of him really didn’t, because that’s exactly what Taeeul and Shinjae were doing. Taeeul was sitting on Gon’s left, and Shinjae on his right, and they were having a very loud conversation over the top of him.

“So why are you pissed though, really?” Shinjae asked her, a smug smile gracing his stupid, annoying face. “It’s not like this Lee Chul guy is your Lee Gon.”

“No, he’s not, but when I had doubts my Lee Gon struggled to ease them. So I’m kinda pissed about that.”

“Oh? How so?”

“He couldn’t tell me he loved me!”

“I did tell you,” Gon mumbled, leaning his head down and putting his hands over his ears in a futile attempt to block out the conversation. “I literally told you I loved you.”

“He couldn’t tell you that?” Shinjae ignored Gon, almost seeming more outraged than Taeeul, and that was saying something. “Taeeul, I don’t want to tell you this with your boyfriend right there, but this really must be said: you deserve better.”

“I do, don’t I?” she agreed, and Gon could see her gazing up at Shinjae out of the corner of his eye. “And here I thought dating a king would mean I’d get treated like a queen.”

“If this is how queens are treated, I wouldn’t want to be one. Why settle for that when there are so many other men who would treat you better?”

“Sometimes I really do wonder,” Taeeul said, but – thank the heavens – before she could continue, the five of them were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“It’s Yeong!” Eunseob gasped, getting up to look out of the window. “Is everyone ready to give him a group hug?”

“I don’t do group hugs,” Gon informed him, but Eunseob paid him no notice as he opened the door and immediately pulled Yeong into his arms, motioning for the rest of them to follow suit.

Nari, Shinjae, and eventually Taeeul all did, trapping Yeong in the centre of them all like a very malicious penguin huddle. Gon could just about make eye contact with Yeong from his position in the hug, and he understood the look Yeong gave him as one that said, in no uncertain terms: ‘Get. Me. Out.’

“You’re suffocating him,” Gon told them, but the group didn’t budge.

“Aren’t you joining in as well?” Nari questioned instead, leaving Gon wondering whether any of their Korean friends had ears.

“Gon doesn’t like group hugs,” Yeong, his eternal saviour, reminded her, “he doesn’t do well with having that many people touching him at once.”

Trust Yeong to know exactly what he was thinking. Lord knows he didn’t need another stressor. If one more thing today aggravated him, then Gon was convinced he’d end up having a nervous breakdown.

That would be incredibly unsightly for a king, and even more embarrassing in front of his friends, so no one wanted that.

“I’ll give Yeong a hug of my own after you’re all finished,” he assured her, and tried to ignore the tension he felt building in the room again at the mention of a one-on-one hug between himself and Yeong. For the sake of his own sanity, it didn’t exist.

“Well that’s too bad, because I’m never going to let go!” Eunseob boldly claimed, about two seconds before Yeong pushed his way out of the group and stood in front of Gon, hesitating a moment before falling into his arms.

Falling into his arms, and immediately lifting Gon’s heart up from the depths of despair. It was insane, really, how one man could have such an effect on him, but it was an effect that was impossible to deny.

Gon prayed that Yeong assumed the racing of his heart was to do with his earlier stress, and not to do with anything reminiscent of Lee Chul’s world. He wasn’t quite sure himself what the reason actually was, but he was beginning to put a theory together that he really didn’t like.

He wasn’t going to let that become a problem now, though. In that moment, he just wanted to focus on the way Yeong made him feel, and not what exactly it was that his best friend made him feel.

Closing his eyes to block out the harsh outside world, Gon pulled Yeong more tightly into his arms, and to his utmost surprise, Yeong did the same. Even when Gon had hugged him before, it was rare for his Captain to reciprocate, and it warmed Gon’s heart to think that Yeong might just be becoming more open to engaging in the amount of physical intimacy Gon craved.

The date must have really done a number on him, huh. Gon could hardly believe that Yeong had messed up as badly as he’d claimed, but if Yeong was trying to distance himself from what had happened this evening then Gon wasn’t going to push the matter.

Instead, he brought up a different issue, that was hopefully far more lighthearted.

“You bought a new coat?” Gon queried, the new jacket Yeong was wearing not having escaped his attention earlier.

“It’s not mine,” Yeong admitted, “I borrowed it from someone, and I need to give it back tomorrow.”

“Who did you talk to that would give you a coat in your size? Surely it can’t have been your date.”

Yeong chuckled nervously, humming under his breath as he debated whether or not to relay his story to Gon. After a tense couple of seconds, something in Yeong shifted under Gon’s arms, as he seemed to decide ‘fuck it, what’s the harm?’”

“I actually met Lee Jihun today,” Yeong explained, “your counterpart from this world. He was weirdly nice to me, for some reason, and now I have his coat. And his number. And his cousin’s address, because that’s where he’s staying right now.”

“Do you think I could meet him, when you return the coat?” Gon asked, not really sure whether he meant it as a joke or not. “I think it’d be interesting to meet another version of myself, see what he’s getting up to that isn’t running the country.”

“You absolutely cannot,” Yeong insisted, “Not a chance in Hell. All you need to know is that he’s a very decorated naval officer, and he’s doing just fine without the knowledge of there being a multiverse.”

“Can’t I just say I’m his long lost twin or something?” Gon pleaded, his intention more to keep up their lighthearted banter than to really go and see Lee Jihun. After all, who knew what kinds of dirty secrets his doppelganger was hiding? The last thing Gon wanted was another Lee Chul situation.

“Let it go,” Yeong instructed him, and Gon did, choosing instead to stay quiet and just revel in Yeong’s embrace instead, without any distractions.

With his eyes still closed, the only thing he was aware of was Yeong, and Gon took a moment to wonder whether this was what heaven felt like. Though he knew as soon as Yeong broke away his stress would return, while they were still holding each other Gon could clearly feel all his earlier aggravation melting away.

Sensing the pause, Yeong readjusted his position, tucking his head into Gon’s chest so that Gon could rest his chin on Yeong’s head, pulling them closer still. The hairs brushing Gon’s face were trembling ever so slightly, Gon noticed, and so he brought his hand to the back of Yeong’s neck to cup his head, gently letting his thumb run lines up and down the short hairs there. At this soft, repetitive touch Yeong seemed to calm, shaking less and breathing more evenly.

“I’ve been hugged too much tonight,” Yeong complained, though it was obvious he didn’t really mean it.

“Nonsense,” Gon rebutted. “You can never be hugged enough. You deserve all the care and appreciation in the world, and no matter how tonight went, I’m sure you’ll find your someone. Then she can take over from me!” Gon joked, ignoring the way just saying that last statement etched a gaping hole into his chest.

This closeness that he had with Yeong… it had an end limit, and Gon knew it. Even if Yeong’s date didn’t go well tonight, Taeeul was still right: when Yeong eventually did find someone then he would grow more distant from Gon, and he would have every right to. Where right now he didn’t have anybody closer, anyone that loved him more, someday he would.

And that thought was terrifying.

Maybe Gon would end up married to Taeeul. At the rate they were going, however, it seemed more likely that he would eventually marry someone else. A different woman. It didn’t really matter who it was, because Gon was beginning to realise he would never love anyone else the way he loved Yeong. His loyal Captain. His Unbreakable Sword. His best friend.

His soulmate.

But Yeong would love someone else. Yeong would marry, if that’s what he wanted, for love, not for convenience. Yeong would find someone else that made his heart sing the way Gon’s did when Yeong was by his side, and when he eventually grew too old to be a part of the Royal Guard, they’d probably grow apart, each with families of their own.

Yeong would move on, leaving Gon behind, and Gon would be powerless to stop it.

“I don’t think anyone could ever take over from you,” Yeong whispered to him, but Gon knew it just wasn’t true, and by God it hurt.

It hurt to hear the sentiment his soul was craving, but not to be able to allow himself to accept it, because as much as he wanted Yeong to be right, Gon knew he couldn’t be.

Which deity had he upset, to have heaven incarnate dangled in front of him in a silver platter, but with the knowledge that he had to refuse it for the sake of his own sanity?

Every second he shared like this with Yeong was a stolen moment, and though Gon’s head said he should push Yeong away now to make it hurt less, his heart made his body cling onto Yeong for dear life, as if he should surely crumble to dust if they were to be separated.

He couldn’t beat down his heart’s desires. Not when he was using all his remaining willpower to avoid crumbling into a pathetic, sobbing wreck.

At least his King Lee Gon smile was good for something. That unshakeable persona had got him through many a difficult situation, and this one was no different.

King Lee Gon was unconquerable, unrelenting in the face of adversity, a pillar of strength that his country could rely on. He could surely deal with the depressing truth of Gon’s future, no problem.

In the end, they had to let each other go. Gon had to open his eyes to the outside world again, and watch Yeong disappear down the corridor to wash the make-up off his face, and see Taeeul stare at him, her expression unreadable.

The heat of earlier had died down, and she seemed to be equal parts frustrated, sad, and understanding. She didn’t make any moves to go near him, or to talk to him, preferring instead to stay near Shinjae and to talk in whispers.

Gon wondered if he had broken her heart. If she heard his plight, Gon then contemplated if she’d stay with him anyway.

After a while, Eunseob and Nari left, choosing instead to go back to Nari’s and enjoy a bit of alone time. Good for them. Their functional relationship didn’t need to be tainted by whatever it was the rest of the group had going on.

Considering Yeong needed to drop Jihun’s coat back the next day, and also considering Gon had sort of promised Taeeul he’d share the night with her, the Corean visitors opted to stay over at Taeeul’s, and leave in the morning.

As a way of making up for Yeong sleeping on the sofa last time they stayed over, Yeong was going to sleep in the bed they’d arranged for Shinjae while he’d been staying at Taeeul’s, so this time Shinjae would sleep on the sofa in the living room, and of course Gon would be sleeping with Taeeul.

Even after everything, apparently. Taeeul’s heart evidently wasn’t broken enough that she didn’t want to try with Gon at all.

Truthfully, Gon kind of wished that it was.

Earlier, he had thought it would be a great idea to allow physical contact with Taeeul as they slept, which he had strictly avoided all the times they’d slept together before, but looking at the bed now, and looking at the girl laid in it, he wasn’t sure he had made the right decision.

He had endured a really awful day. Really, really awful. His heart and mind had been poked and prodded to within an inch of their capacity, and he really didn’t want to push himself to deal with something else he might not like.

Still, though, when Taeeul patted his side of the bed to invite him to enter, he couldn’t refuse. With a deep breath to steel his nerves, he got into bed, pulled the covers up over his chest, and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend.

At the slightest touch against Taeeul’s body, his arms turned to lead, and the feeling of pure, abject wrong spread through the rest of his body like an infection working at a thousand times the normal speed. It was suffocating, and the warmth of her closeness was suffocating, and the sound of her breathing was suffocating, and everything inside him was screaming at him to get out, out, out!

He didn’t, though. He had promised this to Taeeul, and he had already let her down enough today. His only option was to suck it up and pretend like everything was fine, because if he was lucky enough to be able to make her his wife, he’d have to get used to doing this every day for the rest of his life.

***

For as long as he could remember, Lee Gon had been running. From what, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it was bad and that was enough.

Though he didn’t dare look back, he could sense it was catching up to him. He tried to run faster, but his legs were failing underneath him, so instead of accelerating he only ran slower.

Despite this, he ran, and ran, and ran. Dark tendrils of smoke started to reach the edge of his vision, but he kept on running. They moved around him, dancing and looping and trying to distract him, but he kept on running.

For an instant, they looked almost beautiful. Captivating. Enticing.

He reached out, trying to get a better look at the obsidian whorls decorating his view, but in that moment they pounced on him, pouring into his every orifice, wrapping and tightening around his body until he couldn’t breathe. He tried to yell, tried to scream for help, but no one was around, so no one came.

After a while, a light shone in Gon’s new world of darkness. He tried to move towards it, but he was trapped, rooted to the spot thanks to some unstoppable force.

However, when he thought all hope was lost, the light started to come towards him instead. It turned out the light wasn’t a light at all, but a man. Jo Yeong, dressed in white, reminiscent of an angel amidst this hell he was trapped in. Yeong reached out his hand, and Gon took it, smiling uncontrollably as he connected with his friend.

Yeong smiled too, as a bloom of red erupted on his chest and he fell to his knees, still smiling up at Gon even as he let go of his hand.

Gon tried to kneel down to help him, but he was trapped in his standing position, unable to do anything as blood dripped out of his best friend’s dying mouth.

He tried again to call for help, but no sound came out of his mouth. All he could do was watch in horror as Yeong then collapsed onto his side, soulless eyes still staring up at Gon, a smile still gracing his deathly features as his body wasted away, crumbling into dust, and leaving Gon alone.

The only thing he wanted to do was cry, but the unstoppable force holding him in place wouldn’t let him do anything of the sort. When he tried, the dark tendrils trapping his neck squeezed tighter, and he tried to pull them off but they wouldn’t budge, only growing tighter still.

They formed the shape of two hands, gripping tighter and tighter and tighter, and eventually formed the shape of a new body, of his uncle back in Cheonjongo, and Gon was only eight, and his body was failing and he couldn’t move, couldn’t protect himself when the pain around his neck became sharp, and he cried and cried and cried but the room was silent.

Yeong was dead, and he was alone, and there was no one left to protect him.

He screamed one final silent scream, and the world disappeared.

***

“Yeong! Please, Yeong, wake up!” was the first thing Yeong heard, alongside frantic knocking on his door.

It was Taeeul. What could she possibly want with him at this hour, when it was – he checked the clock – 3:08AM?

“Yeong!” she continued, “It’s Gon, he–”

Yeong didn’t need to hear the rest. He jumped out of bed and slammed open the door, scaring Taeeul a little but not caring one bit because this was about Gon, and if something had happened, if someone had hurt him…

There would be hell to pay. If someone had hurt Gon, Yeong would tear down every world in the multiverse to make sure whoever did it got justice.

He barged into Taeeul’s room, scanning around for signs of a struggle, for remnants of blood, but the sight that greeted him was a different one, one that he hadn’t seen for quite a few years, and one that he had hoped he might never have to see again.

Gon was curled up on the far left side of Taeeul’s bed in the foetal position, both hands wrapped protectively around his neck, breathing short, shallow breaths at a million miles a minute, and shivering like he’d been left outside naked in the middle of winter. His eyes were open wide, but not really focused on anything in particular, and a few silent tears left shining streaks down his face.

It always threatened to break Yeong, every time he saw Gon like this. He could keep Gon safe from external threats, could face down an assassin like nobody’s business, but when it came to attacks from Gon’s own mind there was nothing Yeong could do to stop it.

“He was screaming,” Yeong was vaguely aware of Taeeul saying, as he scanned the room for anything that might have triggered Gon’s condition. “That’s what woke me up. He was screaming and shouting and thrashing, so I reached out a hand to calm him down, but then he woke up, and pushed me off, and then this happened. I don’t know what to do, Yeong, I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“Get out,” Yeong spat, giving little care to how nice he came across.

“But can’t I help? I’m his girlfriend, I–”

“Get out!” Yeong snarled, finally wrenching his gaze away from Gon to whip his head around and glare at Taeeul, who then swiftly exited the room into the arms of Shinjae, who by this point had woken up too.

Once he was sure she was gone, Yeong shut the door before switching his demeanour completely, and tiptoeing tentatively towards where Gon lay, kneeling on the floor in front of him so he could talk to his King directly.

“Gon?” he murmured, “Gon, it’s me, Yeong. Can you see me?”

Yeong raised his hand to near where Gon’s own hands rested, to make Gon the offer of replying. Over the years, they’d developed a system of basic communication for when Gon was in a state where he couldn’t talk. Yeong would only ask simple, yes or no questions, and Gon would answer with a number of small taps on Yeong’s hand.

Two taps for yes, three taps for no. It was a system that had seen Gon through countless situations like this, ever since he was eight years old.

Gon shakily reached out a couple of fingers and tapped twice, signalling yes.

“Alright.” Yeong smiled encouragingly, and moved on. “I’d like you to start breathing with me, do you think you can do that?”

Two taps again. Permission to proceed.

“Ok Gon, we’re going to breathe in –” Yeong took a deep breath in “– and out,” he then exhaled slowly, before repeating his instructions and motions until Gon caught on and joined in, shakily at first but growing more and more steady with every breath. As he did, his eyes seemed to brighten more and begin to focus, though there was still an air of panic to the way he gazed into the darkness of the room.

“Can you sit up, do you think?” Yeong asked, and Gon tapped twice, before unsteadily pulling himself up into a sitting position, facing away from the headboard of the bed. Once he was settled, this was an invitation for Yeong to sit behind him, facing in the opposite direction so their backs were touching, since whenever Gon came to a little more, he always hated the feeling of anyone looking at him in such a weakened state. The only physical indication Yeong made that acknowledged Gon’s presence was the offer of his hand, so Gon could communicate with it if he wished.

“Was it anything in Taeeul’s room?” Yeong queried, though he was pretty certain he knew what the answer was going to be, considering Gon had slept in Taeeul’s room before.

Three taps. Yeong was right.

“Was it Taeeul herself, then?” he followed up, hoping for Gon’s sake that the answer was no.

Two taps. And then three, after a pause. Gon then made a pained hum, before tapping twice again.

“You’re not sure?”

Two taps.

“She told me she reached out a hand to help you. Do you think that might have set it off?”

Two taps.

“If you were unsure, was there anything else?”

Two taps again. “Dream,” Gon croaked, “suffocating dream. Cheonjongo. Couldn’t take it.”

“I see. You’re here now, though,” Yeong assured him, “You’re in Taeeul’s bedroom, in the Republic of Korea, a whole universe away from Cheonjongo. It’s just you, and me, and Taeeul and Shinjae in the other room. You’re safe.”

“You’re safe,” Gon repeated back to him, squeezing the hand that Yeong had left for communication.

“I’m safe too,” Yeong agreed, as that seemed to be what Gon needed to hear. “We’re both safe. No one’s coming to get us here.”

This seemed to satisfy Gon, so they sat together in silence for a while, Yeong not wanting to make any moves until he got Gon’s go ahead. He was confident, though, that the initial crisis had been averted, as at this stage what usually happened was that Gon would need to take some time to readjust, but then he’d be alright. A little shaken, still, but alright.

“I thought it would help,” Gon eventually said, breaking through the silence once he had properly regained his voice. “I had a hypothesis that sleeping while cuddling another person would help with the nightmares, but it didn’t. I think it made it worse.”

“The nightmares?” Yeong questioned, “Last time you spoke to me about nightmares was years ago, and that was to assure me they were easing up. Are you having them again?”

Gon hesitated, before confirming. “Yes. I’ve – I’ve had them again, ever since we reset the timeline.”

“Do you think that’s because we went back to Cheonjongo?”

“To an extent. I don’t think that’s it, though, because I went back there once before, when it was just me, and it didn’t affect me quite this badly. I think it might be because you were there, and… well…” Gon trailed off, unwilling to finish his sentence. It didn’t matter. Yeong knew exactly what he was talking about anyway.

“I’m alright, Gon,” Yeong reminded him, squeezing the hand Gon was still holding. “You saved me, remember? And as much as you’re still insistent I’m not fit enough to work, I’m really recovering well. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I see it every night,” Gon confessed, mood in no way helped by Yeong’s assurance. “In so many different ways, but all linked by you – by you – you look up at me, and your eyes are – it’s awful. It’s like hell. I can’t go to sleep without seeing you – I’m always left alone. I try to call for help, but no one comes. Sometimes my uncle is there, though, and I’m suffocating again, but other nights just the sight of you – that’s enough.”

“Gon…” Yeong breathed, trying his utmost to remain strong and not turn round and hug his friend, knowing the touch would make it worse.

“I want it to stop, Yeong-ah. It only stopped once, and that was when –”

Gon suddenly stopped, and Yeong could hear him swallow, as if that would bury whatever it was he was about to say.

“When what?” Yeong probed, desperate to find anything that might help Gon sleep a little more comfortably.

“When you slept with me, after we came back from the Republic that night,” Gon confessed, so quietly he was barely audible. “That’s why I wondered if physical contact while sleeping helped, but it didn’t help when it was Taeeul. That means that it wasn’t the touch that helped, and it can’t have been the setting because most of the nightmares were when I was in my own bed, so the only logical conclusion I can draw now is that the thing that helped me… was you.”

Yeong almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His mind was simultaneously empty and full of racing thoughts, as he struggled to grapple with the new information Gon had given him.

That selfish part of his mind told him this meant he should indulge himself and go and sleep with Gon every night, but rationally he knew that wasn’t possible.

A different impulsive part of his mind wondered if this might mean that Yeong was wrong about Gon, and he might actually have a shot after all, but he immediately shut that train of though down because it was so unbelievably insensitive when this conversation was about Gon, and Gon’s struggles, and wasn’t at all to do with Yeong’s repressed feelings.

“Please don’t take this as me asking you to come and sleep in my bed every night,” Gon clarified, and oh look brain, there it was! “I’m still not a hundred percent sure that night wasn’t just a lucky fluke, or due to something else, and even if it is your presence that helps, I still can’t ask that of you.”

“What if I want to?” Yeong offered, his selfish thoughts slowly taking over and getting the better of him, despite his rational judgement.

“There’ll come a time when you won’t want to, or when I can’t,” Gon sighed, “whichever comes first. Whether I have a wife, or you get a girlfriend who’ll potentially become your wife, we won’t be able to sleep with each other.”

Maybe it was just Yeong’s wishful thinking, but Gon seemed disappointed when he talked about this future.

He was probably just frustrated that he wouldn’t be able to indulge in a quick fix for his nightmares. Yeah, Yeong reasoned, that was probably it. Gon definitely wasn’t disappointed at the prospect of Yeong getting a partner, that would be absurd!

“It’s pathetic, really,” Gon continued, “that I’m even in this situation. I mean, what kind of boyfriend can’t manage a night sleeping with his girlfriend in his arms? His girlfriend that he intends to make his wife? What kind of king can’t make it through a nightmare without turning into a shivering wreck? I’m meant to be a pillar of strength, but look at me, falling apart at the seams. I never should have been given the throne.” As he finished talking, there was an uncharacteristic yet unmistakable tremor to Gon’s voice, and, unable to help himself, Yeong turned around to see Gon curling into himself, using his free arm to wrap round his legs.

“It’s not pathetic,” Yeong soothed as Gon turned around too, after having sensed the shift in Yeong’s position. “You’ve been through far more than anyone should have to endure in their lifetime, and you can’t expect to have come out of it unscathed. Taeeul should understand that, and Corea should too, because the way you manage to keep going, keep living? Gon, you’re the strongest person I know.”

“But I need to do more!” Gon protested, “It’s not good enough that I’ve managed to keep going as I have been doing – for my country’s wellbeing I need to change, Yeong-ah, and I can’t! I can’t focus on that because everything around me, after we reset the timeline it’s all getting shot to hell: my mental state is deteriorating, my girlfriend is well on track to leave me, and you–”

“And me?”

“You’re going to leave me too,” Gon whispered, looking down at the sheets and periodically scrunching his face up, as if desperately trying to hold back a flood of emotions that were trying to break loose. “Maybe not now, maybe not for a few months, not for a few years, but you will. You’ll find someone you like better than me, someone you want to spend all your time with that isn’t me, and I’ll turn into just a king again. Into your job. And then eventually you’ll move on from this job, and you won’t spare me a passing thought, and I’ll try and be happy for you because I know your job is hard, and strict, and dangerous, but it will kill me because I will be so ashamed of myself for not being able to do that because I can’t bear to lose you.”

With that, Gon couldn’t keep himself together any longer. The floodgates had opened, and however much Gon tried to wipe his tears away, they just kept on coming. Yeong was paralysed – he wanted to do something, anything, to help Gon, to assure him that his fears were baseless, that he wasn’t going anywhere, but he knew he couldn’t offer anything that would satisfy Gon the way he craved.

How could he put into words how much the mere prospect of leaving Gon made him feel like his world was ending?

How could he articulate how, given the choice, he’d want to stick by Gon’s side forever, so it was just Gon and him against the world for all eternity?

How could he let Gon know that the only person he had ever truly wanted to share his life with, ever truly wanted to open up to, and be loved by, was him?

How could he say all that without letting Gon know just how much he loved him?

All Yeong wanted to do was kiss Gon’s tears away, hold him close, and tell him over and over and over that he loved him, all of him, in the high moments and the low moments, in the strong moments and the weak moments, in the hard moments and in the soft moments, and in every moment in between. From morning until night, seven days a week, twelve months a year, Yeong wanted – no, he needed to let Gon know just how much he was loved and appreciated and adored, but he couldn’t let himself do it. However much Yeong permitted himself to say, it would always feel like lying because the truth would always be whole universes more.

“You’ve never been just a job to me,” Yeong allowed himself to admit, because that, at least, was true. “You’ve never been just a job, you’ve never been just a king, and I don’t think you ever will be. You – you have no idea how much I care about you, and I say that because even I can’t quite fathom it, and the truth is I am desperate to pull you into my arms right now to try and show you instead, but I know that would make you even more uncomfortable so–”

Yeong was cut off by the force of Gon practically throwing himself on top of him, wrapping his arms around him so tightly it seemed as if he would never let go. It didn’t take long for Yeong to return the gesture, and though the two were entangled so closely it was difficult to determine whose limb belonged to whom, Yeong still wasn’t satisfied that they were close enough to each other.

“Don’t leave me, Yeong-ah,” Gon whispered in between muffled sobs that had only grown stronger as he had allowed himself to collapse into Yeong’s arms. “Even if you move on, please don’t ever leave me alone.”

“I won’t,” Yeong assured him. “I’ve been with you since the beginning, and I’ll be with you until the end. I promise.”

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” Gon then muttered, lightly shaking his head. “I just said I needed to change, and here I am, giving into my impulsive desires like a child. I should know better than this, and yet…”

“So what? Even if you shouldn’t, so what? You need this, and I want to give it to you, so who are you hurting by staying here?”

“Myself,” Gon sighed, “I’m hurting myself, in the long run. Letting myself entertain a fantasy that I know can’t last.”

“Gon,” Yeong breathed, “what do you mean?” Yeong’s mind was jumping to all sorts of conclusions, ones that he knew were wrong, but damn, he had just encouraged Gon to indulge himself, and who was he not to do the same? Maybe the hope would break his heart, but Yeong was tired of always considering the future, and if he could just set himself free, right here, right now, that might be enough pure joy to last him a lifetime.

“I can’t tell you, Yeong-ah!” Gon laughed through his tears, the pained laugh of a man who was at his wits’ very end. “I shouldn’t even admit it to myself if I expect to be able to function, but it’s the middle of the night, and I’ve already had one breakdown, so what’s even the point of denying it anymore? You can remember my name: Lee Gon who fucked over his country because he just couldn’t–”

A knock at the door stopped Gon in his tracks and he sat bolt upright, all the colour slowly draining from his tear-stained face. Slowly, tentatively, his eyes moved from Yeong to the door, which was now cracked open a little, showing the glint of Taeeul’s eye peering through the gap. Gon obviously saw her too, as he hesitantly pulled his arms away from Yeong and shuffled a short distance away, leaving Yeong feeling cold, and bare, and alone.

“Are you feeling alright now, Gon?” she whispered, but Gon made no effort to reply. Instead he just stared at her, lips moving slightly as if he wanted to say something, but he had no breath to make the words.

“Are you?” Yeong murmured, keeping his voice low enough so his question was private between himself and Gon. He subtly reached out his hand to Yeong’s and tapped three times, signalling what Yeong had feared.

“I think he needs some more time to himself,” Yeong informed her, hoping the interaction would be easy and she would go back into the other room, no questions asked.

Of course, he knew it was never going to be that simple.

“With you?” she questioned, pushing the door open more so she was completely visible. Gon still hadn’t taken his eyes off her, but his expression had become incomprehensible; a strange mix of apology, fear, and sadness, all mixed together into an emotion Yeong struggled to pin down.

“Gon and I have been doing this together since he was eight years old. Please don’t take it personally that I’m staying with him.”

“It’s not that, Yeong, it’s just – I don’t even know. Forget it,” she dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand, and tried to leave but was stopped by Shinjae, who had followed her to the door and was standing behind her with his hand on the doorframe.

“Taeeul was wondering if Gon was ready to go to sleep,” he told Yeong for her, “because it’s half past three in the morning, and she’s had a long day, and she’s tired. As well as being worried about Gon, of course.”

Gon inhaled sharply when Shinjae mentioned the prospect of sleeping with Taeeul, and clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for Gon to sleep with Taeeul anymore tonight,” Yeong deduced, wincing in preparation for the onslaught of abuse and assumptions he was afraid would come Gon’s way.

“Wouldn’t he want to sleep with someone, though, to comfort him?” Taeeul innocently asked, tentatively making her way into the room.

Yeong felt two taps on his hand, and looked at Gon in surprise.

“Yes? But I thought you said sleeping with someone only made it worse,” he questioned, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow as he tried to figure Gon out.

In response, Gon slowly turned to face Yeong again, raising a trembling arm and pointing his finger against Yeong’s chest.

A hush fell across the room as all three of the others understood instantly. Instead of Taeeul, his girlfriend and possibly soon-to-be fiancée, he wanted to sleep with Yeong. In Taeeul’s house. Even after learning of Lee Chul, and being caught in the middle of the fallout.

Was Yeong still asleep? Was this all a very elaborate dream?

Taeeul looked as if she was about to cry. Considering the conclusion her mind had probably jumped to, after visiting that other world and then coming back and seeing this, she had every right to be upset. She, of course, wasn’t used to the gut-wrenching pain that was the person you loved not liking your gender, and upon seeing her plight, Yeong could sympathise. Even if she had no right to be feeling that way, because what they’d seen today was still no real indication that Gon was anything other than heterosexual.

“Me?” Yeong clarified, still scarcely believing his eyes, and Gon nodded, glancing briefly at Taeeul before turning back to Yeong.

“King’s orders?” Yeong then offered to Taeeul, not knowing how to make the situation more palatable. However he reacted, just the fact that Gon wanted him over her was enough to hurt.

“It’s fine,” she tutted, “if it’s better for Gon, it’s better for Gon. Who am I to get in the way of that?” She paused, then added, “I would like my room back, though, if that’s ok.”

“I think a different room would be good anyway,” Yeong guessed, looking over at Gon to see him nodding in approval. “Thank you for being so understanding. He’s… he’s lucky to have you as his girlfriend.”

Though it hurt to say, it was true. This interaction could have gone a lot worse.

“Yeah,” she sighed, looking dolefully up at Shinjae, “I guess he is.”

“Shall we?” Yeong said to Gon, offering his hand to help him get up as Yeong stood up himself. It struck Yeong as eerily reminiscent of Gon that morning, offering his hand to take Yeong into Korea, and it was even more odd that Yeong had thought then that it was like it was Gon that he was going on a date with, and now he was taking Gon to bed.

It really was as if tonight’s date night was with the real Gon, after all.

Gon took Yeong’s hand, squeezing harder than he might usually, and Yeong gently guided him through Taeeul’s flat to the spare room where he was sleeping before, propping Gon up on his arm to aid his unsteady legs. He left Gon sitting on the edge of the bed, and was about to get into bed himself when a thought suddenly popped into his head.

“Excuse me for a second,” Yeong said, before going back out into the corridor, shutting the bedroom door behind himself, and going to find the others.

They were still stood by Taeeul’s bedroom door, and Shinjae had wrapped Taeeul up into a tight hug, gently rubbing soothing circles into her back.

“It’s ok,” Yeong heard Shinjae say, “I know what I said earlier but I don’t really think this means what you think it means.”

“I hope so–”

“Shinjae’s right,” Yeong interjected, grabbing both of their attention, “this, Gon wanting me tonight, it doesn’t mean anything. I’ve spent years working with him to be someone he trusts when he’s at his most vulnerable, and you can’t expect that trust to appear in one night just because he’s your boyfriend. He actually feels pretty shitty about not making it through the night sleeping with you, so I just…” Yeong sighed, running a tired hand through his hair, “I don’t want you giving him shit for it. Please.”

“I wasn’t going to give him shit,” Taeeul mumbled, leaning closer into Shinjae’s chest.

“I’m talking to both of you,” Yeong tried not to snap, “and to be honest, especially you, Shinjae. I know this is prime opportunity to make a ‘Gon is gay’ joke, but he’s really not in the headspace to take it.”

“Come on Yeong,” Shinjae protested, “even if he’s not necessarily my favourite person, I’m not that mean.”

“Good. Because from experience, Gon’s nightmares are worse when he’s been stressed in the day, and tonight’s seems to have been an especially bad one, and I don’t want a repeat of that. It’s already enough that he’s experienced all this trauma, he doesn’t need to relive it every night.”

“Is that what happened, then?” Taeeul queried, “He had a nightmare?”

“Yes,” Yeong confirmed, “that, and – I know you were trying to help, Taeeul, but I think reaching out to touch him made it worse, so from now on if he ever wakes up from a violent nightmare like that, give him space. He’ll appreciate that more than a hug.”

“You were hugging him, though,” she pointed out, looking away as though she was feeling guilty. “When I came in, you were hugging him.”

“He initiated that. That’s generally a good rule of thumb, really, let him initiate the contact, because that way you can be sure he’s comfortable with it. And don’t ever, ever touch his neck, if you don’t want something like tonight to happen again. Look, just – just be careful, ok? I know he seems all strong and unshakeable because that’s how he likes to come across, but that’s an act he’s painstakingly had to craft just to get by, day to day.”

“And you know this because you’re close to him,” Taeeul stated, and Yeong couldn’t bring himself to argue in a way that would make her feel better, because she was absolutely right.

“Yes. I do. I was there at the beginning of his reign, when he had the weight of a country thrust on his grieving shoulders at only eight years old, and I’ve been there ever since. I know you love him, and you want to believe you’re familiar with him, and he trusts you the most, but the harsh truth is that it’ll be hard for you to ever understand Gon and what he’s gone through, because you’re from a whole different world, both figuratively in terms of the sorts of lives you lead, and also literally. I’ve been there, though, and seen him develop from a frightened little boy into the confident king he is today. He doesn’t like appearing less than that, so it’s no surprise you’ve never seen him drop his guard, but because I met him at his worst, he knows I know he’s not all that, and he knows I can take it and still stick by him anyway.”

“I’d stick by him, though!” she offered, “You can tell him that I don’t care if he’s not always on perfect form, and that I want to support him when he isn’t.”

“It’s really not that easy. Words are easy to say, especially in desperate times, and he needs trust that’s deeper than that. That takes years of loyalty, so you shouldn’t feel bad that you don’t have that connection yet.”

“But I want to help!” she protested, “Surely as his girlfriend there’s a way for me to help!”

“Taeeul, I really, really don’t want to come across harshly, but right now all he needs from you is space. He’s going to be shaken after tonight, and because you were there at the time of the attack, it might take a few days for him to readjust to you. And this comes under the umbrella of ‘don’t give him shit for it,’ because I know it will kill him to feel like he’s disappointing you. You can be hurt all you like behind closed doors, but you’re not allowed to act like anything is wrong when you’re in front of him, understand?”

“Understood,” she conceded, hanging her head.

“Alright. I’m going to go back now, because I think I’ve made my point well enough, but if I catch either of you two slipping” – Yeong pointed a finger at the pair of them, before directing two fingers to his own eyes and then towards them in a gesture of ‘I’m watching you’ – “there will be hell to pay. You have my word.”

“He’s scary,” Yeong heard Taeeul whisper to Shinjae as he turned to leave, but he could only be glad that he’d successfully got the tone of his message across. Giving them one final look back, he saw the back of Shinjae disappear into the bedroom with Taeeul, and a part of him thought that if either of them did give Gon any crap about sleeping with Yeong, they would be massive hypocrites if they slept together too.

Another, naughtier part of him then wondered if Taeeul and Shinjae had been sleeping in the same bed the rest of the time Shinjae had been living with her, and if that was the case…

If that was the case, perhaps Gon and Taeeul’s relationship would have been coming to its natural close anyway, whether there had been wonderings about Gon’s true feelings or not.

Yeong wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, Gon no longer having a girlfriend would mean that Yeong would feel far, far less guilty about his own wild fantasies. He would also feel incredibly pleased for Shinjae, as even if Taeeul didn’t expressly leave Gon for him, he still had a real shot at the future with her he’d always dreamed of.

On the other hand, though, Yeong knew the end of Gon and Taeeul’s relationship would absolutely wreck his best friend. He’d spent so long clinging onto Taeeul’s ID card, and was so incredibly ecstatic when he had finally found her, that it would be almost impossible for him to let her go. Though it pained Yeong to admit, she truly was his everything, and as much as their relationship brought him pain, Yeong was willing to bear it to see Gon happy.

It was this thought he had to remind himself of when he opened the door to the spare bedroom and saw Gon anxiously waiting for him, and then saw the smile spread onto his lips as Yeong entered the room, shut the door, and climbed into bed next to him.

What was this, the third time now? The third time he had slept in Gon’s bed, or in a bed that Gon was in?

Gon was smiling at him because he was looking forward to a nightmare-free sleep, that’s all. He was excited to sleep with Yeong because Yeong was a tool to ease his pain, not simply just because he wanted to sleep with Yeong.

Gon was not smiling at him because he loved him. Yeong was here because he was useful, and nothing more.

“I’m assuming you want me to  put my arms around you, to replicate how it was last time,” Yeong murmured, trying to keep his voice calm even though his heart was racing at the fact that he was even daring to ask for any sort of physical contact with Gon.

“Yes, please,” Gon confirmed, so Yeong did it, slowly snaking his arms round Gon’s body, at first only applying the slightest bit of pressure and then letting his arms settle gradually, giving Gon time to adjust to the weight.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Yeong instructed him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to bear it if he was the one to cause a scene like earlier, instead of Taeeul.

“I will. But it’s different with you. I don’t hate it when you touch me. In fact, I think… I like it?” Gon tensed a little as he admitted this, but when Yeong made no move against him he soon settled again.

Yeong was far too busy trying to process what Gon had said to even think about how to react.

Gon liked it? When Yeong touched him? It was a relief, on a casual, business level, to think that whenever he had to touch Gon’s body as part of his job he wasn’t causing him any discomfort, but to think that he wasn’t even neutral to Yeong’s touch, but he liked it?

How on Earth was Yeong meant to take that? How was his heart not meant to sing at the knowledge that what Yeong had always thought would be an obstacle Gon would have to get used to overcoming with him might actually give him pleasure?

In all his fantasies, even the dirtiest, most perverted ones, Yeong had always factored in the knowledge that for the most part, he’d have to keep his hands to himself, and keep his mouth from straying too far towards places it didn’t belong. He hadn’t minded this one bit, valuing Gon’s comfort and wellbeing far more than any animalistic, carnal desires, but if Gon wasn’t uncomfortable with Yeong’s touch, and if he enjoyed it…

A whole new world of fantasy had just opened up to him. A world of touching, and exploring, and showing every part of Gon’s body just how much he adored it.

Yeong caught himself before his mind strayed too far. He had to remember that he was holding Gon close to his body, and he would be able to feel any changes that might happen in his lower region if he thought about this for too long. Still, though, Yeong used his position close to Gon to take a deep breath and inhale his scent, letting it linger in his nose long enough that he’d be able to recreate it on his loneliest nights.

“That’s good,” was all Yeong said, not wanting to give away any hints about the rabbit hole Gon’s comment led him down. “I’m glad I can help you.”

“It’s not that good,” Gon laughed sadly, reaching up to take Yeong’s hand and squeeze it, “you’re a very inconvenient person to be the one person I can touch.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there with Taeeul, or whoever your wife will be,” Yeong assured him, not entirely sure if he believed the words coming out of his mouth. “You just need time.”

“I doubt it. I don’t think I’ll ever reach a level of trust with anyone quite like the one I have with you.”

Yeong tried not to let his heart race as he tried to continue, “I think you’ll get comfortable enough to sleep with them, though. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Gon confirmed, “it’s simply sleeping that’s going to be the trickiest thing, and if I can do that then I’m good. Even if sex is too much, we can still have a legitimate baby with IVF, or something similar, so that’s not necessarily a problem.”

“See? The only thing you need to work up to is this, and even then it doesn’t have to be immediate. You can start small and work your way up, and if your wife truly loves you then she won’t mind.”

“Would you mind,” Gon asked, “if you were my wife, and I wasn’t yet comfortable with you?”

“Not at all,” Yeong answered, not needing any time to think about the answer to a question that he had already considered years ago. “All I would want is for you to be happy.”

Gon was silent for a moment, and Yeong thought that maybe that was the end of their conversation before they went to sleep, but then Gon whispered, “Sometimes I wish it really could be you, you know. You know me better than anyone else, you’ve stuck by me longer and more faithfully too, and the truth of the matter is it’s you that makes me happy, Yeong, happier than anyone else. If you were a woman, you’d be the obvious choice of person to make my wife, yet I’ve ended up unlucky enough that my soulmate was born a man. That, or I’ve ended up unlucky enough to be forced to take a wife. One or the other.”

‘Sometimes I wish it really could be you.’

If Gon had ended up unlucky enough that his soulmate had been born a man, Yeong had ended up unlucky enough that his soulmate would say things like this, even though he would never really want to act on them.

‘Sometimes I wish it really could be you.’

Same, Gon, Yeong felt exactly the same, perhaps even more strongly than the way Gon felt it.

‘Sometimes I wish it really could be you.’

Gon had described the entire second half of Yeong’s life in that sentence. Yeong had spent all of fifteen years wishing he really could show his love to Gon in the way he wanted, in the way his heart and soul yearned for.

But of course, there was still that caveat that stopped Yeong’s feelings at every turn. ‘If you were a woman.’ If Yeong had been born female, he would have experienced next to none of this heartbreak, as he would have been able to share his feelings with no repercussions, and they might have married and become the strongest power couple in the world.

However, even in the other universes, his counterparts’ DNA would be pretty much the same, if not exactly the same, so there was no world where Yeong would exist with the uterus Gon needed in his partner.

“It would be easier, wouldn’t it,” Yeong mused, “if I was a woman. Or even if you were. Imagine that: you and I, married, able to spend every day of the rest of our lives together.”

“I don’t need to imagine it,” Gon reminded him, “that’s how it was in Lee Chul’s world. I envy him, really, to be selfish enough to claim you anyway, despite the problems it’s going to cause.”

“If you were in his position, would you do it?” Yeong asked, unable to stop himself from seeking an answer to the question that had been at the back of his mind ever since he heard about that world. The question of if he’d been lucky enough to live in a world where Gon might return his feelings, would he let himself?

“I… don’t know, Yeong-ah,” was all Yeong got in response. “At one point I would have said no, but after seeing how happy he was, how free he was, I just don’t know. Our world isn’t the same as theirs, and I don’t know how well Corea would take it.”

“I think they’d understand,” Yeong said, though he wasn’t sure if it was logical rationale or just his own wishful thinking. “Even if there were people that opposed it, and even if there was a problem of succession, at the end of the day I think your people would be happy that you were happy. There’s already people that want us to be together, so it’s not like it’s not an idea that’s already in the public consciousness.”

“You really believe that?” Gon queried, his voice tentative, open, raw.

“I do. There’s so many people that love you, and that wouldn’t change if you… if you married me.”

“I don’t even know why we’re talking about this,” Gon chuckled, suddenly breaking the tension Yeong felt building between them as they talked about Yeong’s favourite hypothetical.

“Me neither.” Because at the end of the day, it was just a hypothetical, and one that wasn’t really worth entertaining. “It’s probably the tiredness messing with our heads.”

“Probably. I suppose we should sleep then.”

“I suppose we should.”

“Goodnight, Yeong-ah,” Gon whispered, easing down into Yeong’s embrace to find a position he was comfortable to sleep in.

“Goodnight, Gon.” ‘I love you,’ he didn’t say, though he mouthed the words against the back of Gon’s head where his own head lay.

He wondered if Gon could feel it, and whether he understood what it meant.

‘Sometimes I wish it really could be you.’

As Yeong went to sleep that night, the love of his life safely wrapped in his arms, that was the one thought that existed in his mind.

‘Sometimes I wish it really could be you.’

‘Sometimes I wish it really could be you.’

‘Sometimes I wish it really could be you.’

Chapter Text

‘Sometimes I wish it really could be you.’

Seriously, Lee Gon, what the hell were you thinking? Sometimes you wish the person you want to marry is Jo Yeong? Was that even what he felt? Was that the solution to the problems his mind had been throwing up for the past few weeks?

It had certainly felt truthful in the moment, Gon thought, as he lethargically chewed on his cereal at Taeeul’s kitchen table. A lot of his internal filters were down last night, so a lot of thoughts that he had kept hidden from himself for a very long time had decided to come to the surface.

Well, he said ‘a lot.’ There was really only one main thought, and that was the truth of how he really felt about Yeong. His best friend. His Captain. His Unbreakable Sword, and more recently, his soulmate.

And even more recently, the man he might well have feelings for. Feelings that were more than those that were normal for a pair of best friends. Feelings that ran deeper than he had ever previously let himself realise.

Oh, fuck.

Fuck.

Fucking fuckity fuck fuck fuck!

Gon slammed his hand down on the table in frustration, but to his surprise, no one paid him any attention. Taeeul and Shinjae continued having their conversation about idle matters Gon was too preoccupied to pay attention to, and Yeong continued rooting around in Taeeul’s medicine cabinet for a pack of hay fever tablets, because he hadn’t anticipated staying the night and so hadn’t thought to bring his own.

It was almost comical, really, that his Unbreakable Sword was practically impossible to beat in hand-to-hand combat, and could manage to suffer through the pain of a bullet wound to keep on protecting Gon, but was so easily defeated by flowers.

‘They’re my greatest enemy,’ he had once told Gon, back when he was twelve and Gon was sixteen. ‘Flowers, and all other plants, and the whole outside in summertime. It’s like the whole world is out to get me.’

Gosh, Yeong was so cute then. He still was now, as the force of his sneeze sent his head crashing into a precarious tower of painkillers, knocking them over and earning a defeated sigh from his friend. Gon was about to get up to go and help him when the thought of their hands brushing as they picked up the packets crossed his mind, and he immediately settled back down. He did not need any more reason to drive himself crazy over Jo Yeong.

No, that was the last thing he wanted to do. In all honesty, after identifying these feelings, his first order of business really should be to crush them and never consider them again, but that just seemed so hard, and painful, and after yesterday didn’t he deserve a little self-indulgence?

He knew it would be a mistake, though, in the long run. They weren’t something a person in his position should have, and they definitely weren’t something a person in his position should keep.

Honestly, he was disappointed in himself. When he first realised that maybe his tastes might run in a different direction to those deemed acceptable for a reigning monarch, he had promised himself very quickly that he would never, ever have feelings for a man. He just wasn’t going to do it, he wasn’t going to let himself get close enough to anyone he might fall for because that would seriously complicate his future plans.

But of course, there was Jo Yeong. His Unbreakable Sword had only been a child then, not even a teenager, and he hadn’t been on Gon’s radar as someone he might have to be careful of because he was more like a younger brother than boyfriend material. Naïve, innocent, stupid Lee Gon had let himself keep his close relationship with this kid, and now here he was, suffering the consequences.

‘Sometimes I wish it really could be you.’

‘You’re probably my favourite person.’

‘If you were a woman, you’d be the obvious choice of person to make my wife.’

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!

How on Earth had he let himself get this far? He couldn’t have Yeong, shouldn’t even begin to entertain the possibility of being with Yeong, and yet here he was, completely and utterly besotted with him.

He needed to get himself married off quickly. It was the only way to keep his feelings in check, to make sure they knew that they were never going to get what they desperately craved because Gon had a duty to his Kingdom, and he couldn’t let his country down.

It was perhaps an odd sentiment for a king to think, but he needed to make sure he knew his place. He had a lot of privileges, but the ability to feel freely was not one of them. His emotions had spent a very long time getting the better of him recently, and he wasn’t going to let them get the better of him again. Not for a long while.

Besides. As far as he knew, Yeong was straight. Even if he was a regular person, he still wouldn’t be able to date Yeong. He was fucked anyway, so sitting on these feelings wasn’t just worth the effort.

No, it was time for him to re-focus his efforts on the woman that really mattered: Jeong Taeeul. His girlfriend, and currently his best shot at getting a wife.

After finishing off his cereal, Gon decided that now was as good a time as any to rekindle the fire that had burned so passionately between them when they first met, and went over to where she and Shinjae were talking with the objective of drawing her back over to him with his masculine wiles.

That is, until he got there, and suddenly his heart was in his throat, blocking his airways and leaving him with no breath left to speak.

A million thoughts were rushing through his head, the most notable of which was the one that kept reminding him how much he wasn’t in love with her. There were others too, with messages of ‘you’re being selfish by keeping her tied to you,’ and ‘your relationship is failing, what’s even the point anymore?’ and ‘you will never be able to give her the love she deserves,’ and most irritatingly, ‘if you stay with her, you won’t be able to have Yeong.’

That was the whole fucking point! The whole point of talking to Taeeul was so that he made sure he couldn’t have Yeong, so why the hell was that one of the reasons why he was hesitant to go over there?

This was why he should never have let himself fall for a man! This was exactly why! If he let his feelings get the better of himself he knew it would be near-impossible to want to have a wife again, and that’s why he vowed never to let that happen, and here he was, King Lee Gon, a failure yet again!

He had to make himself believe he was going to be happy with Taeeul. He was going to be happy with Taeeul.

He was going to be happy with Taeeul.

He had to be happy with Taeeul.

He had to. He had to. There were no other options, he had to.

He had to he had to he–

“Gon?” Yeong’s deep voice gently asked, his favourite person now standing beside him, instead of half-inside a cupboard. He still couldn’t get over the way his name sounded in Yeong’s mouth, how he treated it with so much care and reverence Gon felt like he was going to burst. “Are you alright?”

Gon didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. He was too overcome with awe at Yeong’s mere presence, and how it completely washed away his sentiment of a couple of seconds ago because how on Earth could he settle for anything less than perfect, when perfection was right by his side?

“You don’t have to try and talk to Taeeul if you’re not ready,” Yeong told him, sensing he wasn’t going to give an answer. “I’ve already told her it might take a few days, and she understands that, so don’t feel like you’re letting her down by not showering her in kisses like you did before.”

Oh, this was – this was because of last night, wasn’t it? Of course Yeong would be worried about that, and of course he would be on high alert for any signs of Gon feeling anything less than comfortable.

How had he managed to get this lucky, to have someone who cared about him enough and knew him well enough to notice when he wasn’t working at a hundred percent, even when he was trying his hardest to keep himself safely acting as normal as possible.

Everyone needed a Jo Yeong in their life.

Some lucky person was going to claim this Jo Yeong as their own.

That person wasn’t going to be him.

Oh God, oh fuck, oh why did it hurt so damn much? It was as if after he’d properly acknowledged his feelings, the emotions he felt about them increased a hundredfold, so now whenever he remembered how his Yeong wasn’t going to be his forever…

It felt like dying. It felt like all the life and joy was being choked out of his soul, and he was being stabbed with the weight of the unbearable truth.

Out of habit, his hands started to creep up protectively towards his neck, his forefinger tracing the line where his scar used to be before the timeline was reset.

Even that – even Cheonjongo, even then his saviour was Yeong. Not Taeeul as he had assumed for most of his life, but Jo Yeong.

He had told himself he would love Taeeul, treat her to all the privileges of being queen because he thought she saved his life, and it was the least he could do to repay her.

But it wasn’t Taeeul at all. Taeeul never went to Cheonjongo. In this current timeline, his saviour was Yeong.

What was he meant to make of that? He couldn’t make Yeong his Queen, no matter how much he wanted to!

“Gon?” Yeong asked again, far more concerned than the first time. “Gon, do we need to discuss the Strelitzia Protocol?”

The Strelitzia Protocol: named after the flower symbolising freedom, this was code for ‘I can see you’re getting stressed, do you need to get out of here?’ when Yeong said it, and ‘I need to get the fuck out of here,’ whenever Gon did.

Did he need to get out? On the one hand, he probably shouldn’t; despite what Yeong had said to Taeeul, it was imperative that he try to fix his relationship with her, if he didn’t want to be in for any more of a world of hurt than he already was.

On the other hand, leaving meant he got to spend more quality one-on-one time with Yeong, and even if it meant he got hurt more in the long run when he had to eventually break his own heart, at least he could feel an ounce of joy in the present moment, right here, right now.

His head told him to brush Yeong off and say that it was fine, but what had listening to his head ever got him before? A girlfriend that he didn’t love? A world of overthinking that threatened to drive him insane?

Lee Chul evidently didn’t listen to his head, and in the short videos Gon had seen, he looked happier than Gon had ever imagined he himself could be. You know what Lee Chul had? An abundance of quality time with his Yeong, with the man he loved.

And what had he reasoned earlier? After the day he’d endured yesterday, he deserved to indulge himself. Surely it wouldn’t hurt, just for a day.

Just for a day, and then he’d get rid of his feelings. Just for a day, and then he’d systematically rip anything even resembling the idea of himself having feelings for Yeong into shreds.

Just one day. He could let himself embrace his true feelings, as authentically as he could without ruining his entire friendship, for just one day.

In response to Yeong’s question, Gon nodded, and with an efficiency not even the rest of the Royal Guard could match, Yeong led him away from Taeeul and Shinjae, and out of the room. They eventually sat on the bed they had shared last night, wrinkling the covers on the bed Yeong had painstakingly made to perfection. If Yeong was disappointed at his handiwork being ruined, however, he didn’t show it. All his Captain seemed to be feeling was loving concern for Gon.

“Is this better?” Yeong asked, shutting the door and blocking out the outside world.

“It is,” Gon confirmed, gazing up at Yeong in awe. Even his simplest movements were intoxicating, and Gon could have sworn the world slowed down as Yeong pushed the door shut, giving him time to appreciate the way his muscles moved under the embarrassingly tight t-shirt he had borrowed from Shinjae, as if he was trying to get Gon’s attention.

God, he was down bad. He was down real bad. Is this what repressing your desires for decades did? Make even mundane actions look heavenly?

Yeong was like an angel. A beautiful, perfect angel, who carried himself with effortless, supernatural grace, and–

Gon was snapped out of his trance by the sudden noise of Yeong sneezing, and then sighing as he pulled out an already fairly well-used tissue to wipe his admittedly rather red nose.

“Sorry,” Yeong winced, “I know the loud noise can’t be helpful right now, but I can’t do anything about it at the moment because your perfect girlfriend isn’t allergic to summer like I am.”

“Yeong-ah, don’t worry about it,” Gon soothed, “now I’m just here with you” – and now he’s decided not to bother lying to himself for a day – “I’m really feeling a lot better than I was. Your presence is comforting enough, whether you’re sneezing or not.”

“If my presence is enough, then would you mind if I sat with my eyes closed? It’s not that I want to ignore you, they’re just burning right now and I am really struggling to function.”

“Of course you can,” Gon told him, slightly incredulous that Yeong had even felt like he needed to ask, and to quantify just how much he was suffering. “In fact, do you want me to get you anything? A cold washcloth or something, to put over your eyes?”

“Don’t bother. Firstly, I’m meant to be the one helping you, secondly you’re the King, and you shouldn’t be doing such menial tasks, and thirdly, I’ll manage,” Yeong brushed Gon off, before sneezing so forcefully his body moved involuntarily, and it sounded like it was tearing the back of Yeong’s throat. After that he groaned in frustration, and made a move to rub his itchy eyes before stopping himself and just squeezing them more tightly shut instead.

It was frustrating for Gon too, to see his Yeong struggling and to not be able to immediately fix the problem. Seeing Yeong in pain brought out a sympathy pain in himself as well, and for a second he contemplated outlawing plants in the Kingdom, to make sure they never hurt his Captain while he was there.

That was impossible, of course, and the costs would far outweigh the benefits, but at least it would stop Yeong from suffering.

“You’re right,” Gon agreed, “I am the King, and that means you can’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Jo Yeong. If I want to do a little menial task for my favourite person, I will. Stay here,” Gon instructed him, “and I’ll get you something to help. And no protesting – that’s an order, Captain Jo.”

“I hate how I can’t refuse that,” Yeong complained as Gon disappeared off to the bathroom to wet a washcloth for Yeong to put over his eyes. While he was there, he also wet two cotton pads and put them in the freezer, so when the washcloth eventually warmed up, Yeong would have something even more soothing waiting for him.

It sort of felt like something Gon might do for Yeong if they were actually together. If they were a couple of regular guys enjoying domestic life, instead of King Lee Gon and Captain Jo.

In the Republic, Gon supposed, that was exactly who they were. Usually when he thought about the freedom this other world offered, it was only in regards to himself, but thinking about it, it probably had that effect on Yeong too. In the Kingdom, Yeong was probably about as famous as he was, and arguably under even more scrutiny, but here he could just be Yeong: incredibly cute soulmate of Lee Gon, who was going to get a whole day of unparalleled love and care just because he existed, and that was amazing.

“Here, Yeong-ah,” Gon said as he gently placed the washcloth in Yeong’s hands, so he could hold it up to his eyes. He did, leaning back so he was lying on the bed, meaning he could rest the washcloth there without having to use his hands to keep it in place. After taking a second to admire the look of relief on his soulmate’s face that he had caused, Gon lay down next to him, inching his hand closer and closer to Yeong’s until their fingers were touching.

Gon had meant what he told Yeong last night, that despite his lifelong touch aversion, he liked touching Yeong. That wasn’t to say that he felt Yeong’s touch any less strongly than he did anyone else’s, because that wasn’t the case at all, but the difference was that any discomfort he might have felt was completely drowned out by the slew of positive feelings Yeong’s touch brought. Where others brought him only dread, and fear, and pain, Yeong brought him comfort, and joy, and the racing of Gon’s heart felt excited, rather than overwhelmingly anxious. So when their fingers met, while to Yeong it was probably nothing more than a simple brush of skin, to Gon it lit his whole body up with ultimately incomprehensible but undeniably exhilarating sensation.

At first, Yeong flinched at the touch, but not even half a second later it was like something had clicked, and his friend showed no signs of hesitancy as he interlocked Gon’s fingers with his own, wrapping his digits around Gon’s hand.

Turning to look over at Yeong, Gon saw an impossibly wide smile gracing his usually serious Captain’s face, one that suggested he was enjoying his little burst of moxie as much as Gon was.

“I still can’t believe I can touch you,” he breathed, a hint of wonder in the way he said his words, “And I really can’t believe that you like it. What did I do to get so lucky?”

“Nothing. You were just you. Amazing, beautiful, perfect you,” Gon gushed, not caring one bit about how much truth he was spilling because it was fine, it was just for one day. “You didn’t ever have to do anything more.”

“Oh, stop it with the sweet words –” Yeong paused to sneeze again, and blow his nose before continuing “– you do remember it’s me you’re talking to, and not Taeeul, right? You don’t want to treat me too nicely for too long; people are going to get the wrong idea.”

“I know,” Gon assured him, running his thumb up and down Yeong’s own. “I’m well aware of who I’m talking to, believe me. And as for these so called ‘people,’ and their ‘ideas,’ – let them. I’m not going to start lying just to ease some idle gossip.”

Besides. It not like it was exactly the wrong idea. Who was Gon to deny the truth, when these hypothetical onlookers were absolutely right.

It didn’t matter, anyway. It was only for a day. It was only for a day. They weren’t even in the Kingdom right now, and it was only for a day.

“Why do you keep knowing exactly the right thing to say?” Yeong asked, though Gon wasn’t sure if he was seriously asking it as a question, or whether he was just thinking out loud to the universe. “Perhaps it’s because I can’t see anything, but I don’t feel like I’m in the real world right now. I feel like I’m in a very elaborate dream.”

“You’re not dreaming, Yeong-ah. I’ve just decided that I’m going to allow myself to feel my feelings more freely today to let them recover after yesterday, so if I’m slightly more mellow, that’s why. Back to normal tomorrow, though, don’t worry!” He laughed, but Yeong didn’t laugh with him.

“You should let yourself feel your feelings everyday, Gon,” Yeong reprimanded him, but God, how could Gon focus on the message of what Yeong was saying when Yeong said his name, and said it with such adoring care that it worked its way into Gon’s heart, and sat there glowing with love. “Even if you can’t share them with everyone, you can share them with me. I already see through your king disguise, and whatever feelings you have, I’m willing to be there to share them with.”

“It doesn’t matter, Yeong-ah,” Gon dismissed him, hating the disappointment that creeped into his voice as he did so. “A lot of today’s feelings will be gone tomorrow, whether I want to feel them or not.”

“You can’t just get rid of feelings,” Yeong murmured, as if reluctant to admit it, “believe me, I’ve tried. In my experience, they’ve stuck around whether I’ve wanted them to or not.”

“How very inconvenient,” Gon half-joked, trying not to let Yeong’s words scare him. Just one day meant just one day. He would only let himself have just one day.

“You have no idea. You really, really have no idea.”

“Do you need to share your feelings, Captain Jo?” Gon asked, wondering what kind of inconvenient feeling could possibly be plaguing the man next to him.

He supposed that with Yeong’s job, it could be any number of feelings. There were so many things he might have to keep to himself to continue serving Gon with the efficiency and total dedication he needed as Captain of the Royal Guard.

“No,” Yeong hesitated, “I – it wouldn’t be wise. I already have outlets, anyway, it’s not like I’m completely repressing anything.”

“Good for you,” Gon remarked, in all honesty slightly jealous of his best friend. “You’re already doing better than some.”

“That some being you?”

“Shut up. A king can’t dwell on feelings, it’s unprofessional.”

“But you’re embracing them today?”

Gon paused. “I’m not King Lee Gon today. I’m just Gon.”

Yeah, that felt right. King Lee Gon put his duty first, but Gon? Gon was selfish, Gon was greedy, and Gon would do anything to hold the reins while he enjoyed a day with Yeong.

“Just Gon,” Yeong laughed, feeling out the words in his mouth as if they were foreign. “Do you even know how to be just Gon?”

“No,” Gon admitted, turning to look at Yeong despite him not being able to see and return the gesture, “but I’d like to try and learn. Would you take this journey with me, Yeong-ah?”

“And just be Yeong?” he clarified, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. “No Captain Jo, no Unbreakable Sword?”

“Just Yeong,” Gon confirmed. “Just Yeong, and Just Gon. How about it? Just for a day.”

“I’d like that.” Yeong was smiling more widely now, his expression more reminiscent of Eunseob than of himself.

“Excellent! And this means no holding back – until the clocks in Busan Palace strike twelve tonight, I’m not the King, so you’re to treat me as your equal.”

“Isn’t that still giving me an order, Just Gon?”

“You can give me orders back! I was only trying to clarify the terms of our agreement, I wasn’t trying to take charge.”

Yeong reached over with the arm on his far side and tapped Gon’s arm in consolation. “It’s ok, you’ll get there. For now, though, if we’re to be equals…” he trailed off, pursing his lips in thought.

“What? I’m open to anything, I promise.”

“Could you go to the shop and buy me some antihistamines? That’s not going to be too stressful, right? I obviously don’t want you to do it if you’re not feeling up to much, but if I’m going to be Just Yeong today, I’d like to be able to enjoy myself properly.”

“Of course, Yeong-ah,” Gon smiled warmly, almost wishing Yeong hadn’t covered his eyes so he could appreciate the way that Just Gon was looking at him, before getting up and off the bed, reluctantly letting go of Yeong’s hand. Yeong gasped slightly at the sudden lack of contact, and left his arm outstretched, as if reaching out to find Gon again, just for a second before he let it fall to the bed again.

It took a lot of Gon’s willpower not to go back there and gently hold Yeong’s outstretched hand in his own, and lean down and give him a quick kiss goodbye on the cheek before leaving for real. That was still too far, even for Just Gon. Just Gon and Just Yeong were friends, and he wasn’t about to ruin that just because he was having a moment of freedom.

Before he left Taeeul’s flat, he did quickly go and bring Yeong the frozen cotton pads from the freezer, which he graciously accepted, obvious pleasure and relief spreading through his body at the cool touch.

Seeing Yeong happy… it made Gon happy, too. He wanted to be able to do these little things for Yeong forever, to keep bringing him little moments of joy for the rest of his life.

Someday, Yeong would have a girlfriend or wife to do this for him.

Someday wasn’t today. This was their day, and Gon was claiming it, no matter what.

Yeong didn’t have that person now, so Gon would be that person, and would be that person for as long as he could be before he had to give Yeong up.

With this thought in mind, he picked up his wallet, briefly mentioned he was going out to Taeeul and Shinjae, and left to go and brighten Yeong’s day.

***

Gon had insisted on coming with Yeong to Jihun’s cousin’s house to drop off the coat.

Yeong had tried to tell him no, that he could wait at Taeeul’s because it wouldn’t take more than half an hour and then he’d be back, but Gon was adamant that he’d spend his whole day with Yeong and so had point blank refused to stay with Taeeul and Shinjae.

It was probably for the better, really. He and Yeong had been very close throughout last night and that morning, so if Yeong left him alone with the others, even for a second, without his supervision, who knows what kind of a state they’d leave him in.

God, last night. Last night.

He honestly wasn’t sure whether it was the best or worst night he’d ever had.

In one respect, it was awful. It was always awful to see Gon fall victim to his mind, and Yeong was furious with himself for letting it happen. He’d got good at spotting when Gon might be more vulnerable, and for a long time he’d been able to get Gon out of any potentially triggering situations before they occurred. To some degree, last night was his mistake. He had seen that Gon was stressed, and had let him carry on as normal anyway because he thought Taeeul would have been able to give him some comfort.

He had miscalculated. Badly. As the person who was meant to be in charge of protecting Gon, that was on him.

However, in another, far more guilty respect, last night was like heaven – after everything had calmed down, of course. More than once, it had seemed like Gon was on the brink of telling him something important, something that his heart wanted to believe was what it had wished for for fifteen years.

And then Gon said that he wanted Yeong with him, in his bed.

And then Gon said that he liked Yeong’s touch.

And then Gon said that he wished that the person he was going to marry could be Yeong.

And then Gon fell asleep in Yeong’s arms, and when they woke up he said it was the most peaceful sleep he’d had in a long time.

Before last night, Yeong didn’t think it was possible to fall harder for the man that now walked beside him, and who had his arm linked with Yeong’s, and was gently leaning into Yeong’s side.

Boy was he wrong. The love in Yeong’s heart had swollen to sizes Yeong hadn’t thought possible, lest his heart burst with the emotion.

Then – Then Gon had started this. Embracing his feelings for one day, becoming ‘Just Gon,’ whatever that meant.

From his actions so far, it seemed to mean going out of his way to trick Yeong into believing that they were far more than just best friends.

Walking arm in arm; that was something that couples did. In those moments, surrounded by people that didn’t know their faces, Yeong felt like he had a boyfriend, and that boyfriend was Lee Gon. He honestly felt like he was living his fifteen year old fantasy as he rested his hand on Gon’s arm, making idle conversation about everything and nothing, and for once in his life feeling free.

This was what it meant, to be Just Yeong. To be free, free to truly be himself for once.

For a small, brave moment, the thought of ripping the bandage off and coming out to Gon crossed his mind, encouraged by his newfound freedom.

He didn’t, though. He couldn’t bear the thought of ruining what they were only just finding.

After a short while, they made it to Jihun’s cousin’s place. Korean Seungheon’s, for a guess, since the teenage daughter Jihun mentioned seemed to fit with Seungheon’s daughter, Princess Sejin.

She had never been born, in the new timeline. Yeong tried not to dwell on the consequences of that.

“Alright,” Yeong started, hovering awkwardly at the end of the driveway as he struggled to work out how to let this new, clingy Gon down, just for a couple of minutes as he returned the coat. “If Jihun sees you I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do, so do you think you could wait on the other side of the road for me? I won’t be long, and I doubt he’ll pay you much notice if you wait that far away, so just… stay out of sight. Please?”

“You got it, boss,” Gon said, raising his hand in mock salute as he let go of Yeong’s arm and headed over to the other side of the road, giving Yeong a thumbs-up when he got there. Yeong rolled his eyes with a smile, before turning round and walking over to Korean Seungheon’s door, pressing once on the doorbell.

To Yeong’s unfathomable relief, it was Jihun that opened the door, and not his cousin or niece. It was an odd experience, to have just left Gon behind, only to go and see Gon, but as Yeong had to keep reminding himself the day before; this wasn’t Gon.

“Yeong!” he cried in greeting, wrapping Yeong up into a surprise hug, “You came!”

“Um, yes? I needed to give this back, remember?” Yeong moved the arm that held the coat as best he could from his compromised position, encouraging Jihun to let go and take the coat into his own arms instead.

“Thanks,” he smiled, then hesitated before adding, “You wanna come in? I’ve got time to kill, and no one else is in right now.”

“I can’t,” Yeong told him, smiling awkwardly as he let him down, “I have someone waiting for me at the top of your drive, and he’s going to get worried if I don’t return within the next minute.”

“He can come too! I have enough food and drink to go around.” Jihun then smirked, a mischevious glint in his eye. “Bonus points if he’s hot. Maybe you can set me up with him to make up for yesterday.”

“Jihun…” Yeong laughed nervously, not knowing where to look as he determinedly avoided Jihun’s eyes. “The person waiting for me, he’s my straight boy. I don’t think you’d want him to come in.”

“So he is hot?” Jihun raised an eyebrow, and Yeong just sighed in defeat. “Well now I want to meet him even more; come face to face with the man that ruined my date. I should go and give him a piece of my mind.”

“Jihun, seriously,” Yeong pleaded, “you really don’t want to.”

“I really do,” he assured Yeong as he pushed past him and strode up the drive, after putting the coat on the nearest peg. Yeong desperately tried to convince him it was a bad idea, but to no avail.

It really was a bad idea. Jihun didn’t need to see that there was another version of himself that existed, and Gon did not need another Lee Chul situation.

“Hey, asshole!” Jihun called out to Gon, who was sitting perched on the wall opposite the end of the drive, facing away from the house. At the sound of his own voice, Gon whipped his head around, and the two doppelgangers were face-to-face.

Gon grinned, first at Jihun then at Yeong, who felt like a little part of his soul was withering.

Jihun stopped in his tracks, jaw hanging slack as he stared at the man that was him-but-not-him.

“He doesn’t know I’m gay,” Yeong took the opportunity to whisper while Jihun was frozen stiff and while there was still some distance between them and Gon, “so please don’t mention going on a date with me, or my feelings for him.” He paused.  “Not if you want to keep your head.”

Yeong didn’t know if he heard, because Jihun showed no reaction. He was as still as a statue, save for his mouth that was moving as if it was trying to say something, but was struggling to find the words.

“You must be Jihun!” Gon called out, hopping off his perch and making his way over to the others. “You were nice to my Yeong-ah, thank you very much for not letting him freeze.”

“Sure,” Jihun managed to murmur, watching Gon’s every move with close intent.

“I did say you two looked alike,” Yeong offered, trying his best to ease Jihun’s tension.

“Yeah, alike. Not exactly the fucking same, Yeong, what the hell?”

“Yeong-ah, you told him about me?” Gon asked, his gaze saturated with something Yeong could only think to call adoration. “I feel honoured.”

“Yeah,” Yeong chuckled nervously, glancing between the doppelgangers to make sure neither of them said or did something they’d regret, “you did come up in conversation. Hard to avoid, really.”

“Well! Perhaps I don’t need much of an introduction then, but hi, I’m Lee Gon, and I’m Yeong’s best friend. Some might even say his soulmate.” With this, Gon put his arm round Yeong’s shoulder and pulled him close, killing him slowly inside as he thought about just how insensitive this must be after Jihun’s comment yesterday.

“His soulmate,” Jihun repeated, eyeing Yeong accusingly, “I see. That’s a bold claim.”

“It’s a claim Yeong-ah agrees with,” said Gon, completely oblivious to Jihun’s obvious disdain.

“You see now why I didn’t want you to invite him inside?” Yeong hissed, gently removing himself from Gon’s arm as his best friend watched in mild horror.

“It’s… fine,” Jihun forced out what was so obviously a lie, “I’m a man of my word, and I’m going to stick to what I said. Lee Gon, was it? Would you like to join me and Yeong inside for a bit?”

“Join you and Yeong? You talk as if you’re a couple inviting me into both of your home, instead of a house that I know belongs to neither of you.”

Despite being Just Gon, Gon had his King Lee Gon smile plastered to his face as he spoke to Jihun, though Yeong didn’t know whether that was to purposefully try and come across as the superior Gon, or because he was hiding something else.

Yeong decided it was the first option, because his brain autofilled that the something that Gon was hiding was pure, unbridled jealousy.

If he was jealous, it was because he envied their new friendship. Not because Jihun’s language reminded Gon of a couple.

“Is that a yes or a no?” Jihun’s face was stony. Perhaps he really was regretting asking Gon to join them.

“Yes, of course. Come on, Yeong-ah!” Gon linked his arm round Yeong’s and started walking towards Jihun’s open door, giving Yeong a fraction of a second to realise what he was doing and walk with him. Yeong thought he heard Jihun groan from behind them, but if Gon noticed, he didn’t show it. In fact, he seemed positively pleased with himself, stretching up tall and carrying himself with confident, majestic grace.

“He’s awfully familiar with you,” Gon commented, leaning down to whisper in Yeong’s ear, before backing off a little so Yeong could see him raise an eyebrow. “Were you that eager to replace me with another me?”

“Nothing could ever replace the real you,” Yeong replied honestly, omitting the details of how, technically, he had been eager to replace Gon with another Gon. “Besides, you’re the one who made Eunseob your new Unbreakable Sword despite him being severely under-qualified.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

Yeong smiled sweetly up at him. “Never in a million years.”

“Yeong-ah.” Gon stopped just in front of the open door to Jihun’s cousin’s door, and took both of Yeong’s hands in his own, holding Yeong in front of him as he looked him dead in the eye and said, “You will always be my Unbreakable Sword. I only gave the title to Eunseob because I missed you, and at that point I didn’t know if I was ever going to be able to return, so I tried to find the next best thing. He was never meant to replace you, and he never really did.”

What a painfully similar sentiment to Yeong’s own, even if it didn’t have the romantic aspect.

The next best thing, but could never really be a replacement. Oh, how Yeong wanted to say the same back to Gon, but how could he explain his motivations without mentioning his romantic intent?

Yeong’s eyes flicked over to Jihun as he crossed his mind. He was watching the two of them with an expression reminiscent of Gon trying to figure out a particularly complicated maths problem, and–

Oh. Of course. He was picking apart their interaction because Gon was holding Yeong’s hands and gazing lovingly into his eyes, and this is exactly what had ruined their date. Not exactly this, but Jihun was now able to see why Gon made Yeong feel the way he did, and why he hadn’t been able to get over his straight boy.

How was it Yeong’s fault that Gon acted in a way that made it incredibly difficult for the logical part of Yeong’s mind to completely deny that he might feel the same way? Though Yeong knew it wasn’t true, Gon’s actions spoke volumes louder than the words of Yeong’s denial.

Jihun’s gaze caught Yeong’s own, and his expression morphed into one that was far too knowing for Yeong’s liking.

“Quit flirting and get inside, the pair of you,” Jihun laughed, with a subtle wink in Yeong’s direction, patting Yeong on the back as he walked past them both and through the open door.

Yeong stared at him in shock, trying to figure out whether or not he was joking. If he wasn’t, Yeong hoped the stare would put him off making any more comments of the sort.

Now that they had met, Jihun was the seventh person in Yeong’s life who could possibly out him to Gon. That number was getting dangerously high.

While Yeong was contemplating the merits of death by strangulation – something he would never do in front of Gon, especially to someone identical to him, but which would definitely be effective in shutting Jihun the hell up – Gon made a garbled sound, as if he was choking on his own breath.

Yeong quickly turned his attention back to Gon. If Jihun’s comment had brought back memories of yesterday, of the others’ reactions to finding out about Lee Chul and his relationship with his Yeong, then this Yeong wouldn’t hesitate to tear Jihun to shreds.

Thankfully, Gon wasn’t showing any signs of stress or anxiety. The only signs that he was feeling vaguely out of the ordinary were a barely concealed smile and a flush of colour heating his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and Yeong doubted that was cause for alarm.

It was certainly odd, though. Yeong expected Gon to be outraged at Jihun’s comment, not… happy? Was that the right word to describe Gon’s reaction?

Whatever it was, he didn’t seem opposed to the idea.

Or that was Yeong’s wishful thinking. With Gon’s newfound forward approach to their relationship, it was getting more and more difficult to tell, these days.

“Well that’s us told, eh Yeong-ah?” was all Gon said as he followed Jihun into the house, letting go of Yeong’s hands and leaving him to stare incredulously at the back of his head.

‘That’s us told?’ He wasn’t even denying that they were flirting?

Were the antihistamines Gon had brought him earlier actually hallucinogenics?

Yeong shook his head as he followed after Gon, in a desperate attempt to clear any sad, hopeful thoughts from his mind.

After all, Gon had a girlfriend, and he loved his girlfriend, and he was straight.

Right?

“You know, it’s really not unheard of for people to meet their doppelganger,” Gon commented as the three of them sat round the kitchen table with cups of tea, probably in response to the fact that Jihun hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from Gon for the duration of their meeting.

Even now he was staring, still unable to quite believe his eyes.

“I never thought it would happen to me, though,” Jihun explained, still staring. “It really is uncanny.”

“To be honest, I’m finding the experience quite unsettling. Normally if I see a life-size version of myself, it’s in the mirror, but you’re not flipped like a mirror image is. It’s quite uncomfortable.”

“You’re finding this uncomfortable? You look like this is just a regular, everyday occurrence for you.”

“I’ve grown accustomed to seeing strange things lately. In comparison, I suppose this is rather ordinary. I mean, at the end of the day it is just meeting another person, and I know you can do that because you did a brilliant job with it yesterday with Yeong-ah.”

“Yeah.” Jihun finally broke his stare to turn to look at Yeong instead. “I guess at least I did a good job with that, Yeong-ah.”

Gon glared at Jihun as he said that last word. To be honest, Yeong could see where he was coming from.

Only one person called him Yeong-ah, and that was the real Gon. It felt like sacrilege for anyone else to say it, especially when that person was so similar to Gon, yet markedly different.

Perhaps it was the way he said it. Gon said his name with delicacy and care. Jihun called him ‘Yeong-ah’ with mockery and accusation.

“I thought we were moving on from that,” Yeong breathed, unwilling to talk loudly about his date with Jihun in front of Gon.

“Don’t call him Yeong-ah,” Gon cut in, still glaring.

“What’s the big deal?” Jihun defended himself, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“I call him Yeong-ah. That’s my name for him.”

“Gon, it’s really not an issue, he can call me that if he wants” Yeong assured him, but Gon was having none of it.

“It’s an issue to me.”

“Why?” Jihun questioned, not offering a hint of the sympathy he had given Yeong the night before. “Is it such a problem if we share a term of endearment for our mutual friend?”

“It’s my term of endearment. I’ve been using it for years. You met him yesterday.”

“Actually, we started talking about a week ago,” Jihun rebutted, and when Gon turned to Yeong for explanation Yeong felt a little part of his soul shrivel up and die.

“We, um, found each other on… social media,” Yeong offered, glancing at Jihun every couple of seconds to glare daggers, and scimitars, and cutlasses, and broadswords. “He texted me first.”

“So it wasn’t just Mysterious Ji Girl you were texting, then?”

Jihun snorted, and Yeong was a hair’s breadth away from committing a murder.

“Mysterious Ji Girl?” he asked incredulously, making a face that seemed to say ‘That’s what you went with?’

“Yes,” Yeong lied, ignoring Jihun completely, “I was also texting Jihun.”

“So you were replacing me for a whole week?” Gon asked, pouting at Yeong to try and attract some sympathy.

“He could never replace you. He made that very clear,” Jihun commented, and now the distance between Yeong and murder was less like a hair’s breadth, and more like the width of an atom.

“How did that come up in your conversation?”

Come on Yeong, murder is not the answer.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Yeong. Murder is not the answer.

“Is my own doppelganger keeping secrets from me?”

Murder is not the answer!

“Only the ones that Yeong-ah wants me to keep.”

Murder is not the answer!

“Yeong-ah?” Gon stared up at him with huge puppy eyes pleading for an answer. It threatened to break Yeong’s heart, but he wasn’t about to fall for Gon’s tricks that easily. He knew it was a ploy to get him to spill, and he was not going to let go of this one particular secret that easily.

“I’ll tell you later, ok? This really isn’t the right time.”

Would he tell Gon later? He wasn’t sure.

Later could mean all sorts of things, and if Yeong ever did manage to find a boyfriend, then he supposed he would have to tell Gon about his sexual preferences at some point.

But now really, really wasn’t the time. Not like this. Not in a stranger’s kitchen, with another person present. He couldn’t come out like that to his best friend. To his soulmate.

Thankfully, Gon seemed satisfied, as he nodded his head and turned his attention back to Jihun.

“So you met my Yeong-ah on social media, hm? What made you start talking to him?”

“Truthfully” – oh God, not truthfully, Jihun, now’s not the time to be truthful – “it was his good looks that drew me to him. He’s a very attractive man, and I found him very difficult to ignore.”

“You think Yeong’s attractive too?” Gon blurted out, before putting a hand over his mouth with wide eyes as he realised what that just sounded like.

For those in the know, it was obvious that Gon’s surprise was linked to Lee Chul’s choice of partner.

Jihun was not in the know. To Jihun, it wouldn’t sound like anything other than Gon himself thinking that Yeong was attractive.

With a growing look of realisation gracing his features, Jihun turned to look at Yeong, and, putting a hand by his mouth to hide his lips from Gon, mouthed the words ‘Are you sure he’s straight?’

Yeong nodded in response, a little more aggressively than he’d intended.

Gon was watching their whole little exchange with the same level of worry Yeong had seen in his eyes last night, when Taeeul came in halfway through their conversation. Fearing Jihun’s comments, but not enough to hold himself back, Yeong reached out a hand in Gon’s direction, which his friend gripped. Tightly.

“He’s talking about someone else he just found out liked me,” Yeong clarified, hoping that explanation would calm both Gon and Jihun’s minds.

“I see,” Jihun conceded, though Yeong got the sense he didn’t believe him at all, “well, whoever it is has very good taste. If Yeong’s heart is in it, I think he could make an excellent boyfriend.”

“People keep telling me that,” Gon muttered, though Yeong wasn’t sure whether he was talking to the group or just to himself.

“Who else told you that?” Yeong asked, letting his curiosity get the better of him.

“Taeeul, last week. And Lady Noh, a little while ago.”

“Lady Noh?” Jihun queried, and Gon’s eyes flew wide open as he realised his mistake.

“It’s a nickname,” he offered as explanation, “she likes to pretend she’s in a historical drama.”

“Not surprising, if she has an accent like you two. Do you work in the same place as Yeong, if you also speak like him?”

“Well, sort of. I’m actually his boss. What did you tell him you did, Yeong-ah?”

“Private security,” Yeong murmured, hoping King Lee Gon would deem that lie acceptable.

“Of course, yes, he’s in charge of my security. He’s very good at it too, I feel very safe when he’s around.” Gon squeezed the hand that Yeong had almost forgotten he was holding, and leaned into Yeong’s side, resting his head on Yeong’s shoulder.

“He’s your… boss?” Jihun scoffed, struggling to put that word together with the picture he was seeing in front of him. “Yeong, I thought you said your boss was strict.”

“Oh, I am, when he’s on duty. He’s not working now, though, because he suffered an injury a little while ago and I won’t let him back on the team until he’s recovered.”

“So you’re his boss, and you’re also his best friend?” Jihun asked, giving Yeong the sense that Gon was being interrogated. “Isn’t that a slightly unhealthy power dynamic?”

“We’ve been friends since we were children,” Gon clarified, remaining calm on the surface despite the sweat that Yeong could feel starting to come from his palm. “If I’m not mistaken, Yeong chose this job to be close to me, irrespective of any power dynamic that there may or may not be. And to ease your worries, I don’t think of Yeong as less than me. I consider him an equal, and I’d like to think he considers me the same way.”

Yeong wished he could consider Gon an equal, but their difference in status was one of the many barriers his brain used to convince his heart that he and Gon couldn’t be close. If he was being honest with himself, he would only really be able to consider Gon an equal if he was Gon’s partner, and that was an impossibility.

“He’s right,” Yeong explained, “I did choose my job to stay close to him. It feels kind of embarrassing to admit, actually.”

It didn’t feel kind of embarrassing, it felt painfully pathetic. To think he was so completely devoted to Gon that he’d make his career out of staying close to him. His loyalty might be seen as admirable, if the truth of his motivation wasn’t so sad.

“Wow,” Jihun breathed, “you really do love him, don’t you?”

“Jihun–” Yeong hissed, feeling his heartbeat start to quicken as he surveyed Gon for damage control.

“Well, we are soulmates,” Gon shrugged, completely unfazed. “It’s only natural that he would want to stay close to me. I know I’ve certainly appreciated it.”

Only natural. Of course. Sure. Tell yourself that, Lee Gon, and don’t mind Yeong over here still freaking the fuck out!

“Look,” Yeong interjected, trying his best to keep his voice as calm and collected as possible, “are the complexities of our relationship really that important?”

“I can’t help it if I want to explain how special you are to me, Yeong-ah,” Gon complained, “this stuff is really difficult to keep to myself.”

“You can tell me all you want when we don’t have company, but surely it’s insensitive to be doing all this in front of our host.”

“Oh, sorry Jihun, you’re not jealous are you?” Gon smiled innocently, though if Yeong looked closely he could have sworn there was a hint of malice in his eyes.

“A little,” Jihun admitted, “but how can I not be when you two seem made for each other? It seems a shame that you’re just friends, and not a real couple.”

If Yeong’s willpower had been any weaker, he would have throttled Jihun there and then. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“He’s straight,” both Gon and Yeong said at once, then when Yeong turned to look at Gon to try and suss out why he said those words with such urgency, he found that Gon was doing the same.

“Gon has a girlfriend,” Yeong added when Jihun started to laugh, “who he loves an insane amount, based on their extortionate level of PDA.”

Gon suddenly found the dregs of his tea very interesting. Honestly, he had the gall to be embarrassed now, but not when he was practically filming adult films in Taeeul’s living room? Make it make sense!

“How unfortunate. Even if you aren’t really together, I still kinda wish I could have a relationship like yours.”

“A romantic relationship?” Gon asked, still looking down at his tea, avoiding any eye contact.

“Well, yes. I went on a date recently, and it made me realise how much I’d actually quite like a boyfriend.”

At the word ‘boyfriend,’ Gon’s head snapped up, and he stared, slack-jawed, at poor, startled Jihun.

“Do you… have a problem with that?” Jihun asked, glancing nervously at Yeong.

“No,” Gon breathed, “not at all, I just – is that why you spoke to Yeong? Because you wanted him… to be your boyfriend?”

“I suppose it is,” Jihun confirmed, flashing an apologetic smile in Yeong’s direction.

This was fine. It wasn’t directly incriminating Yeong. It was fine. Jihun was treading a fine line, but it was fine.

“He turned you down, though?” Gon asked, though it was more a statement than a question.

“Oh yes, Yeong and I are just friends. I’m not gonna make any moves on him now I know he’s not interested.”

“Of course. Though if he was, you’d have my blessing. It would mean Yeong-ah had very good taste.”

Yeong choked, and he was certain his heart had stopped beating. That, or it was suddenly beating at a hundred miles an hour.

He knew Gon was just making a dumb comment. He knew that, and yet–

Had he guessed? Had he guessed that Mysterious Ji Girl was actually Jihun?

Gon wouldn’t have guessed. He had just said that Yeong was straight, for God’s sake, so he must still believe that.

“Well,” Jihun laughed, though his laugh was tinged with a hint of unmistakable sadness, “if there’s anything you want to tell me, Yeong, you have his blessing.”

In that moment, there was hope dancing in Jihun’s wide eyes.

Yeong would have to crush that hope yet again. Thanks, multiverse.

“I’m sorry, Jihun,” he sighed, taking Jihun’s hand in the one that wasn’t already holding Gon’s, “I can’t.”

So many feelings from yesterday were coming flooding back. The excitement of going on the date, the joy he felt when his lips first locked with Jihun’s, but mostly the despair he felt at not only realising that he didn’t want Jihun at all, but also at letting Jihun down.

Yeong swallowed down the ball of emotion he could feel trying to build in his throat. If he lost composure now, he’d have far too much explaining to do.

“It’s ok, Yeong, I understand. Honestly.” Jihun rubbed his thumb over the back of Yeong’s hand before letting it go. Immediately, Yeong tucked it under the table, out of sight, wanting no visual reminder of that little interaction. “To be honest,” he continued, “seeing you today, I think I understand you a little more.”

“You do?”

“I do. Though I do think you might be holding something back unnecessarily. You might be pleasantly surprised.”

Translation: Tell Gon you love him, because I think he loves you back.

Honestly. He had it bad enough from Shinjae, he didn’t need this from Jihun too.

“You don’t know the full story,” Yeong told him, “just trust me, it’s necessary.”

Gon’s gaze was boring holes into Yeong. He turned around to face his friend, expecting the stare to be somewhat cold and disapproving, but like Jihun, Gon’s eyes were full of hope. For what, though, Yeong wasn’t sure.

Hope that Yeong would start opening up more, maybe? That is what Gon had been saying he wanted Yeong to do more.

“If you say so,” Jihun relented, “I’m not going to mess in business that isn’t mine. You know what you’re doing better than me.”

“Is this business that I should know about?” Gon asked, his hope not yet dissipated.

“Absolutely not,” Yeong told him, and oh! There it was. Now Yeong had shown that he wouldn’t open up, the hope was gone. That must have been what it was, then.

“So many secrets today, Yeong-ah,” Gon moaned, but that was not going to break Yeong down. He would not give in to Gon’s charms, he had spent fifteen years perfecting the art of ignoring them.

“Don’t tell me you don’t have any secrets of your own, Lee Gon,” he countered, “surely I’m entitled to have a few of my own.”

Gon paused, scrunching his nose up incredibly cutely in concentration as he thought about it, before finally admitting, “I guess you’re right. Though you did promise to tell me the other one later.”

“When the time is right,” Yeong corrected. “I’ll tell you later on from now, whenever the time is right. That might be on my deathbed, or on yours. Don’t go expecting anything.”

“That’s very dramatic, and very unhelpful.”

“I think he should tell you, Gon,” Jihun chimed in, proving himself as the unhelpful one, instead of Yeong.

“I think my secrets are my business, and I also think we need to move on from this topic before everyone starts to hate each other.”

“Well what should we talk about instead?” Gon asked, raising an eyebrow at Yeong.

“Anything else. Obscure mathematics for all I care,” Yeong sighed, “as long as we stop trying to speculate about my life, I’m good.”

Gon really did start talking about obscure mathematics, when Jihun didn’t offer any other ideas. Yeong should have expected it, really; that man would take any opportunity to gush about his latest work.

Yeong didn’t take any of it in. Partially because it was far too complicated and he had stopped trying to understand Gon’s ramblings a long time ago, and partially because it wasn’t worth trying to listen to the content when he knew he could get more out of it by just enjoying listening to Gon getting excited about something.

It was nice to see, after the state he was in last night. This was how Gon was meant to be, and maybe it’s how he would be more, without his duties as king.

Many years ago, Gon had told Yeong that if the monarchy was suddenly abolished, he’d become a maths professor at Busan University. If that had been the case, perhaps Yeong would have gone there too, and truly embraced his inner Choi Junseo. Who knows, maybe he would have tried to hit on the attractive maths professor. Lord knows it wouldn’t have been worth trying to pay attention in any of his classes.

Eventually, though, they had to leave. Jihun’s niece was due to come back from an outing with her friends, and they decided it was best if Gon wasn’t still around when that happened, so the pair of Coreans thanked Jihun for the tea and his time and started to head back toward the bamboo forest, and eventually back home.

When they left, Yeong saw that Jihun had left him a message, one that he swiftly removed from his screen in fear of Gon’s reaction if he saw.

CHAT: You and Lee Jihun

Lee Jihun:

“straight” boy my ass. is your gaydar broken, jo yeong??? were you blind to how jealous he was getting??? did you not see the way he looked at you??? he wants you, ~~yeong-ah~~, but if he thinks YOU’RE straight he’s never gonna go for it!!!!!!!!! take it from someone who saw how sad you were that i wasn’t him. as much as it pains me to admit, i really, honestly think you have a shot. don’t throw it away on baseless worries!!!!

Lee Jihun:

kiss the boy by the end of the day. you won’t regret it, i promise.

‘Kiss the boy by the end of the day.’ Yeah, right. Like Yeong was even going to bother to entertain that as a fantasy, let alone as a reality. Maybe they were abandoning their roles today, but that didn’t mean he could just forget about the consequences of making a move on King Lee Gon.

“So,” Gon began, when the quiet between them had become just long enough to be awkward, “Jihun’s gay too, huh? And he likes you – I guess I have a type.”

“You have a type?” Yeong laughed, unable to really believe his ears, and take what they heard at face value.

“Well first Lee Chul, and then Jihun. They both find Jo Yeong incredibly attractive.” Gon leaned his head down and smirked at Yeong, raising his eyebrow in a way that made Yeong want to deck him and kiss him, all at the same time.

“What about you?” Yeong couldn’t help but ask, the words escaping his mouth before he could contain them. He blamed Gon’s ‘Just Gon’ and ‘Just Yeong’ day that they were having. Captain Jo would never have said that to King Lee Gon.

Gon just looked down at the ground that was passing underneath their feet and smiled, a warmer, more genuine smile this time. “I’ve told you before how good you look. Do you need me to tell you again that I think you’re beautiful?” On the word ‘beautiful,’ Gon looked back up, tentatively seeking Yeong’s surprised gaze.

Every time. Every time Gon said something like that, Yeong felt like he was ascending to heaven. Partially because hearing such compliments from the man who held his heart warmed his soul like nothing else, but partially also because it killed him to know that they’d never mean what he wanted them to mean, and the distance between heaven and earth felt like the distance it made Yeong realise there would always be between them.

How could there not be, when Yeong was keeping his true feelings locked away? It was an awful lose-lose situation – if things stayed as they were, then there’d always be Yeong’s unspoken secret between them, but if Yeong came clean then the rift between them would only widen, and their connection would most likely be severed for good.

Still, though, Yeong couldn’t deny that Gon’s vulnerability was infectious. He desperately wanted to shower Gon in compliments in return, but even his weakening sense of self-preservation wouldn’t let him do that.

“I suppose I don’t,” Yeong answered instead, biting his tongue so as not to reply something comically flirtatious.

“Yeong-ah,” Gon started again, sensing the dip in the conversation, “why are we heading back?”

“What do you mean?” Yeong asked, his confusion heightening when Gon stopped walking and turned to face him with a frown.

“I mean we’re going back to the Kingdom, but we agreed this morning we weren’t going to be the King and his Unbreakable Sword. If we go back there, we’ll have no choice but to become those people again, so why don’t we stay here a bit longer?”

“Gon, we told Lady Noh we were only going to be gone one day, and it’s already been longer than that.”

“Who cares? Lady Noh is the King’s problem, not mine. It’s not like she can come and get us here, and we’ll have the same punishment whether we come back now, or we come back this evening. Come on, Yeong-ah, when’s the last time we’ve had freedom like this? No titles, no evil uncles, no rules or regulations, no girlfriends we need to impress, no friends picking apart our every little interaction! Really, truly, just you and me against the world – even if it’s a different world to our own, so what?”

The tired Captain Jo inside him told Yeong that he really shouldn’t let Gon get away with this. At the end of the day, they both had a duty to Corea, one that they couldn’t shirk even if they wanted to.

However.

Hadn’t they agreed that they were leaving their duties behind today? If he was listening to the person behind the Captain, he knew he couldn’t just let this opportunity go. Gon was right, when was the last time they had been able to truly, freely be friends? Thinking about it, probably never. Gon always had some duty or another, even when they were kids.

Even if he didn’t want to do this for himself, which he absolutely did, then he couldn’t deny this to Gon. When else would the King of Corea be able to truly just be a person?

“Alright,” Yeong conceded, struggling to keep his smile to himself, “just until the end of the day, and then we really do have to go home.”

“Jo Yeong, you are the light of my life!” Gon exclaimed, wrapping Yeong into a surprise hug before pulling back and putting his hands on Yeong’s shoulders, gazing adoringly at his best friend. “I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d probably be dead in a ditch somewhere,” Yeong shrugged, and Gon burst out laughing.

“I probably would,” he agreed, a sparkle of mirth twinkling in his eyes that Yeong could hardly believe didn’t make him spontaneously combust. “So, my saviour, what would you like to do on our impromptu day off? We can go anywhere and do anything, as long as we can get back before the end of the day.”

“You’re putting this on me? I thought that because you suggested this, you’d have some ideas.”

“My idea was to do whatever you wanted to do. I’m tired of making all the decisions, it’s your turn to make some for a change. Come on, surely there’s something you’ve always wanted to do, but you’ve never been able to because you were too busy being my Unbreakable Sword.”

For a moment, Yeong pondered the merits of blurting out ‘Take you to a gay club,’ but he didn’t do that because he didn’t want to lose his head.

His next idea was ballroom dancing, with the idea in mind that he’d be able to spend an afternoon dancing with the love of his life, but then he remembered that not only would the chance be slim that he’d actually get to dance with Gon instead of some poor lady, it would also be way too much like something a king would do, so that was off the cards.

Eventually, he landed on, “Mini-golf. I’ve never done it, but I think it would be fun to kick your ass.”

“How dare you. Don’t you know that I’m the fourteenth best golfer in the whole of the Kingdom of Corea?”

“You made that number up.”

“I did. But I’ve been tutored by the finest coaches in the country. You will never be able to ‘kick my ass,’ as you so put it.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Yeong said with a grin as he slung his arm round Gon’s shoulders and started guiding him away from the forest, the excitement of a challenge filling him with adrenaline and motivation.

It took Yeong a second to realise that he had put his arm round Gon’s shoulders. He had initiated a very casual physical display of affection, with no signal from Gon to assure him that it was alright.

Holding his breath in nervous anticipation, Yeong slowly turned his head around to gauge Gon’s reaction, expecting him to be uncomfortable, or in some way anxious, but what he didn’t expect was for Gon to be smiling at him with a weird sense of pride and admiration.

“What?” Gon simply asked, entirely unfazed by Yeong’s impulsive actions.

“Nothing,” Yeong smiled back, letting himself relax if Gon was relaxed, “just making sure I don’t catch you slipping, that’s all.”

“You will never catch me slipping, Jo Yeong. I know I’ve got this in the bag.”

“Why the fuck won’t this stupid ball go through the loop-the-loop?” Gon cried out in frustration, bashing his club against the ground after his ball fell back down the ramp for the fourth time in a row.

Yeong just laughed, feeling no sympathy at all as he waited by the hole, his ball safely inside.

“Finest coaches in the Kingdom, huh?” he jibed, leaning forward on his club and grinning from ear to ear.

“None of the golf courses I’ve ever been on before have had loops in them! This is unnecessarily difficult!”

“The kids in the family in front of us managed to do it. The youngest one looked about seven. Do you think they’ve been tutored by the finest coaches in the Republic?”

“I will have you beheaded,” Gon spat, wagging his finger at Yeong before he tried again and missed the entrance to the loop completely, cursing under his breath.

“You’re not the King today, remember?” Yeong reminded him, strolling over to where Gon stood quietly fuming. “That means no beheading.”

“‘You’re not the King today, remember?’” Gon mocked in a high pitched voice, before scowling and readying himself to try again. “I’ll behead you tomorrow, then. This is demeaning.”

“Do you need help?” Yeong asked, partially honestly but partially to wind Gon up even more.

“A king doesn’t need help.”

“What about Just Gon?”

Gon hesitated for a moment, his frown growing with every passing second before he said, “Fine. I run out of attempts after this shot anyway.”

“Permission to touch you?” Yeong asked, just to be safe while Gon was so obviously worked up.

“Permission granted. I already told you I’m fine when you do it.”

“I’m just making sure,” Yeong explained as he made his way over to Gon, leaving his club on a bench by the side of the course. Steeling his nerves, he took a few breaths, before standing behind Gon and wrapping his arms around him, holding his hands over where Gon’s were on the club.

It took a moment for Yeong to realise he was holding his breath. He tried to relax his body as he released it, doing his best to convince himself that this was fine, and not flirtatious at all, and Gon would only think of this as just dudes being bros even though Yeong was painfully aware that this was a tried and tested romantic trope in TV and movies and oh God, what was he doing?

If Seungah saw this, she’d have a field day gathering inspiration for her next fanfiction. If Shinjae saw this, he’d be cheering from the sidelines and encouraging Yeong to lean round and kiss him. Jihun would be joining him, even if he was also disappointed that he wasn’t in Gon’s place.

All Yeong could do was tell himself that the sexual tension was all in his mind, and had no place in the real world.

“Alright,” he started, struggling to remain calm enough to concentrate on the golf, “when I did it, I sort of hit it like this–” Yeong hit the ball, unsure if that really was how he hit it before because Gon was getting in the way and generally being incredibly distracting, but by some miracle the ball made it round the loop, and eventually landed in the hole.

“Wow,” Gon breathed, unable to take his eyes off the ball, “you got it in the hole in one go? You’re a golfing genius, Yeong-ah, teach me your ways.”

“I’ve never played golf before this,” Yeong deflected, really wanting to avoid teaching Gon if this was the way his idiot brain decided to teach it.

Gon still hadn’t made any moves to escape Yeong’s arms. Yeong hadn’t made any moves to remove himself either – though his mind was screaming at him to let go, his hands stayed firmly on Gon’s on his club, and Yeong stayed firmly in place.

“Well then give me some of your natural talent,” Gon pressed, “because clearly I am lacking. Or you could do the rest of this course for me, that works too.”

“Like this?” Yeong clarified, not knowing whether he wanted the answer to be no or yes.

“If you want. I can’t say I particularly mind having you pressed up against me.”

Ok, no. That was flirtatious, and that wasn’t just Yeong’s wishful thinking. What was Gon thinking? He was straight, and he had a girlfriend! Was this one of those instances where straight guys platonically flirted with their guy friends, just for a laugh?

Was he meant to platonically flirt back?

…Would Gon notice if it wasn’t necessarily platonic?

“Then allow me to help you with all the other holes. I mean, I suggested this for a bit of entertainment, but I think if we play like this it’ll be far more entertaining for the both of us.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck was that supposed to mean, Jo Yeong? He was meant to playfully flirt back, not spout random gibberish!

And come on, if he was really going for it he missed a painfully obvious innuendo about holes!

People were starting to stare. The parents of the family in front of them were giving the pair weird looks, and the group of teenage girls behind them were not-so-subtly pointing and giggling amongst themselves.

This finally gave Yeong the motivation he needed to step back from Gon, before practically jogging to the bench where his club was to remove himself from the situation and compose himself, so Gon wouldn’t see how Yeong currently had the complexion of a ripe tomato.

His hands were still tingling where they had been touching Gon’s. His torso felt light, as if it had been enchanted with some godly magic instead of just having been pressed up against’s Gon’s back.

Eventually, Yeong plucked up the courage to turn around, this time finding Gon staring at him instead of the girls behind them.

Oh no, he knew, he knew–

“Are you alright, Yeong-ah?” he asked, genuine concern crossing his features. “Do you need a drink of water? You seem a little flushed–” Gon gestured to his face, and Yeong honestly wished the world would cave in around them.

“I’m fine!” Yeong assured him, a little too enthusiastically to be believable.

“Is that a real ‘I’m fine,’ or an I’m-not-actually-fine ‘I’m fine?’ It’s difficult to tell with you.”

“It’s a real ‘I’m fine,’” Yeong assured him, clapping Gon on the shoulder as he walked back to the hole to pick up his ball, “I don’t need any water.”

No, what he needed was the tall drink of water he was supposed to be playing golf with to stop playing with Yeong’s heart instead, but that evidently wasn’t going to happen, was it?

“God, you’re hot when you get all strong and manly like that,” Gon remarked, and Yeong whipped back around to see him leaning on the loop-the-loop, completely lost in admiration of Yeong. He could almost kid himself that the same desire that was in Jihun’s look before they kissed was present in Gon’s eyes now.

“What’s that?” Yeong asked, desperately needing clarification before Gon’s words drove him insane.

“I was just saying how hot you are. I’m sure that comes as no surprise – I mean, you do look at yourself in the mirror every day.”

“Yeah,” Yeong breathed, “Ok. You were saying what I thought you were saying. Ok.”

“Does that bother you?” Gon queried, raising an eyebrow and making Yeong’s poor heart do backflips. Of course he was bothered! How could he not be bothered when his straight friend was coming out with stuff like this?

“No,” he lied, though, because he was cool, calm, collected Jo Yeong, “it doesn’t bother me at all.”

“Good. Shall we get going, then? I think these girls behind us are waiting.”

“Probably best,” Yeong answered, already heading toward the next hole. If he stayed with Gon by that hole a moment longer, Yeong thought he might disintegrate.

***

Yeong won the mini golf, with 75 points compared to Gon’s embarrassing 87.

When he got back home, he vowed to behead his tutors, who had spent all those tedious hours with him on the finest golf courses in the country for nothing.

Even so, Gon could hardly feel like he’d lost when Yeong spent the latter half of their time on the course guiding Gon with gentle touches that sent tremors of ecstasy down his sensitive skin.

Perhaps he had pretended to be a little less competent than he actually was, just to garner Yeong’s help. Possibly. He was fairly certain Yeong knew this, too, but if he did notice then he never once brought it up.

How lucky he was to have a best friend willing to go along with his whims, even when his motivation was treading the border between friendship and something more

In all honesty, the whole thing had felt reminiscent of a date. Imagine that, actually being able to go on a date with Jo Yeong. If his fourteen year old self saw him now, he seriously doubted whether he’d be able to believe it, not least because small, cute Jo Yeong had grown up into the sexiest heartthrob in all of Corea.

And Gon had just gone on a date with him, because that’s what he was going to tell himself that just was. If he was going to have one day to embrace his feelings, he might as well get a date out of it.

Or multiple dates, as the afternoon progressed.

“Laser tag,” Gon suggested, as they walked – hand in hand! – away from the mini golf course. “I’ve always wanted to try it, but never felt it was appropriate for a king. Too tacky, and the vests have always seemed slightly too gross to sully my royal body.”

“It’s not royal today,” Yeong said with a smile that served as his seal of approval for the idea.

“No it’s not,” Gon agreed. “Shall we? Sweaty vests and all?”

“You should see my bulletproof vest after a day’s work,” Yeong laughed, and that was that. They looked up the location of the nearest laser tag arena, and spent the next hour focusing solely on trying to kill each other, completely ignoring any of the other people in their respective teams. Though Yeong spent his days as the serious Captain of Corea’s Royal Guard, you could hardly tell, as his shooting was far more reminiscent of their days playing together as children than anything remotely real.

Maybe that was his tactic. It was incredibly distracting, as every time Yeong threw his head back in laughter after scoring a hit, all Gon could do was stand and watch, utterly captivated. He had listened to the finest symphony orchestras Corea had to offer, the most talented classical singers, but to Gon, the sound of Yeong’s genuine laughter was the most beautiful sound in the world.

Despite this, it was Gon’s team that scored the most points. Admittedly, if they were looking on an individual level then Yeong did do better than Gon, which he didn’t hesitate to point out when they saw the scoreboard, but since the battle was already unfair as Yeong needed to be a good shot for his job, Gon decided to take the win.

He deserved it, anyway, to make up for his shameful performance playing mini golf.

After that, they went and had dinner in a pottery café – Yeong’s idea – sharing a large collection of light bites while they painted little pot animals. Yeong chose a parrot, which he decided to paint in a variety of bright colours, apparently going for garishness over biological accuracy.

Gon, instead, chose a rabbit, which he painted like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, complete with a tailed suit, glasses, and a little pocket watch that he carried in his paw. However, after showing his handiwork off to Yeong, his friend pointed out that if he was going to be such a stickler for biological accuracy then he shouldn’t have put his rabbit in human clothes.

Needless to say, Gon didn’t question the accuracy of Yeong’s painting again.

Leaving their pots to be fired, and arranging to pick them up next week, Gon and Yeong then went to a karaoke bar, and swiftly left when they realised they didn’t know any of the songs that were preset into the machine.

Instead, they decided to go and stroll round the nearby history museum, where Yeong admired the artefacts and read the plaques explaining their significance, and Gon admired Yeong, as he had already learnt about all of Korea’s history when he first came to this world. It was still nice, though, to see it in a more visual way, right in front of him, though it was really Yeong’s reactions that made the experience special.

“They still had Choi Yeong in this world,” Yeong remarked, looking up at a painting of the ancient general.

“Of course. He was around about three hundred years before our timelines split off from one another.”

“I know, but still. My mum named me after him, so I associate him pretty strongly with our world.”

“You were named after him?” Gon queried, walking up behind Yeong and gently putting his arm round his friend’s waist.

“My mum liked history, even back then. When I became old enough to start looking after myself a bit more, she studied it at university, and eventually ended up lecturing there. I don’t know if she still does anymore, though, if she’s looking after the twins.”

“It’s fitting.”

“I hope not. He was betrayed and executed, after his subordinate overthrew the King. If his story fits mine, we’d better watch out for Hopil.”

“I guess we must,” Gon laughed, leaning forward to rest his head on Yeong’s shoulder as they looked at the painting a while longer.

Gon decided to focus on Choi Yeong’s victories, rather than his eventual betrayal. Or how the King exiled him for six years. That was a part of history that he would never let repeat itself.

No, he was going to hold his Yeong closer than had probably even occurred to King Gongmin to hold his. At least for today, anyway.

The day would be ending soon. The sun would set, the clock would strike twelve, and the brief period of time he had allowed himself to indulge in loving Yeong would be over.

At the beginning of the day, it had seemed like an ample amount of time – perhaps even too long, really, to be safe.

Now it didn’t feel like nearly enough.

Maybe he was right the first time, then. It had been too long to be safe. Because now he was nearing the end of it all, after spending an entire afternoon going on date after date with Jo Yeong, watching him free himself of his Unbreakable Sword persona and let himself loose like Gon had never seen him before, Gon didn’t know if he’d be able to let it go.

He had a duty to let it go, not only to his country but to his friend. If Yeong was feeling like this now, then who was Gon to keep him chained by his side, in his world of rules and regulations, when he had the freedom to go out into the world and find someone he could do this with every day.

That would never be Gon, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

Trying to quell those thoughts from his head, Gon clung onto Yeong just a little tighter than he had done before. Sensing the change in pressure, Yeong brought his hands to rest on top of Gon’s own, and gently leaned his head against Gon’s, while still looking up at the painting.

Yeong’s touch was comfort incarnate. Yeong himself was comfort, and because the day was not yet over, Gon let himself relish every second of it, how he felt warmth seeping in through his skin that made its way to his heart, making it beat slightly faster, and slightly stronger.

His heart was stronger – he was stronger, when Yeong was there with him. And Yeong was here with him now, really, truly with him.

Because they were Just Gon, and Just Yeong. Best friends. Soulmates. And right now, all they had was each other.

And right now, Gon was in love with him. That’s what his feelings were. That was their name, that he had spent his life denying to himself.

Lee Gon was in love with Jo Yeong. It was obvious, really. Though he had done a very good job at denying the evidence life had thrown his way, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

He was in love with Yeong. That love was dangerous, but in that moment Gon couldn’t bring himself to care.

For a split-second, he thought about tilting his head back and leaning round to kiss Yeong, with his soulmate’s namesake as his witness, so he could announce to the world that he loved Yeong, and it was beautiful, and it was powerful, and it was overwhelming but it was so, so worth it.

Gon had never kissed anyone without it hurting him. He wondered what it was like.

Perhaps he’d ask to find out, before the end of the day. But not now. He didn’t want to break that barrier of friendship and ruin any more close moments he might be able to enjoy instead.

Eventually, of course, they had to move on. Whether that was because it was really time, or because the whispers around them became too much, Gon wasn’t sure.

“Look at them, do you think they’re… you know…”

“I wish my boyfriend would hold me like that, that guy with the gelled hair is lucky.”

“You know I support what anyone wants to do in their personal life, but do they really have to show it off in public? There are children here!”

“I know he’s handsome, but it’s not worth going and asking for his number, I’m telling you. I really think they’re like… together together.”

Gon tried not to let it bother him, as he took Yeong’s hand when they walked to the next exhibit. If they wanted to believe that he and Yeong were a couple, he’d let them.

Lord knows he wanted to believe it too.

It was fairly surprising that Yeong didn’t go and confront them, though. Usually he wouldn’t stand for any rumours or gossip about his King, but Gon supposed that he had given them both the day off, so they weren’t really gossiping about a king at all, and it wasn’t his job to do anything about it.

Maybe he just didn’t want to bring attention to it, because he wasn’t sure himself if Gon had noticed, and didn’t want to stress him out with yet another confrontation about his sexuality.

Or maybe, just maybe, Yeong wanted to believe it as well.

It was a ridiculous notion, really, and Gon didn’t know why he was bothering to entertain it, but hadn’t Yeong been slightly too eager to get up close and personal when they were playing golf? And hadn’t he responded to Gon’s thinly veiled flirting with some thinly veiled flirting of his own?

No, that couldn’t have been it. Yeong had literally just been on a date with Mysterious Ji Girl of his own volition, so it’s not exactly like he could have been harbouring long-held feelings for Gon.

Then again… Yeong had never explicitly said that Mysterious Ji Girl was in fact a girl. That was a fact that Gon had assumed, and sure, Yeong didn’t deny it, but he was already trying to be cagey about his date, and so if Gon had got it wrong then he probably wasn’t likely to say anything.

But if Mysterious Ji Girl wasn’t a girl, then who–

Jihun. Lee Jihun.

The others signed Yeong up for online dating, and Yeong and Jihun had met online, and had started talking because Jihun found him attractive. Yeong had been talking to his date for the past week, as he had with Jihun. Jihun said that he’d been on a date recently. And all this was ignoring the weird tension between the two of them, as if their first meeting hadn’t gone exactly to plan.

Hadn’t Yeong said yesterday that he ruined his date? And hadn’t Jihun made a comment suggesting that he had made a good impression on Yeong, but Yeong hadn’t made a good impression on him?

And to top it all off, Jihun gave Yeong his coat. If Yeong was going on a date with someone yesterday that wasn’t Jihun, then why was Jihun there to give Yeong his coat, which, by the way, very romantic move on Jihun’s behalf.

Did Yeong – did he like Jihun?

Probably not, on two counts.

Number one: Gon had no concrete proof that Yeong liked men. Of course, he didn’t have any proof that Yeong liked women, either, as Jo Muyeol had proved to him that sexualities weren’t necessarily consistent across worlds, since Eunseob was very much straight, and Muyeol was very much not. Yeong might even be asexual, for all Gon knew. However, if Yeong wasn’t straight, at this point in their relationship there was a good chance Yeong would have told him already, especially as Gon had been trying to set him up with women, and Yeong had let him.

Number two: If Yeong did like men, why the hell would he fall for Jihun when Gon was literally right there? Seriously, if Jihun’s face was what he was looking for in a man, he needn’t look any further than the person he’d already agreed was his soulmate!

And Gon liked to think he’d notice, if his soulmate was secretly in love with him. He knew Yeong, he knew how Yeong thought and he knew how Yeong acted, so he would know if Yeong wanted to be anything more than friends.

Yeong didn’t. Maybe he’d been more tactile because Gon had given his go ahead, and despite not having any touch aversion of his own, Yeong was almost as touch-starved as he was. Maybe he’d flirted back because Gon had flirted first, and he just thought it was friendly, heterosexual banter.

Maybe the stuff with Jihun really was just a coincidence. After all, lots of names began with ‘Ji,’ and it’s impossible to say whether the ‘Ji’ he saw on Yeong’s phone screen belonged to Jihun, or someone else entirely.

Maybe he did have a shot with Yeong, but maybe he didn’t. And if he didn’t, he had everything to lose if he attempted to take that shot anyway. Yeong would grow distant. Eventually, word would get out, as word always does, and his people would find out that their King was so useless he couldn’t even do courtship properly. He wouldn’t be able to marry a woman, if his Kingdom found out that wasn’t what he wanted. He might marry a man, but they wouldn’t be Yeong, and if he was already fucking over his country but couldn’t indulge himself with the one man he can touch without feeling sick to his stomach, then what was even the point?

At the end of it all, he’d be left alone. His people wouldn’t respect him. Yeong wouldn’t stay close to him. He couldn’t go back to Korea, because he wouldn’t be able to face Taeeul after breaking her heart.

He’d be stuck as the King, and he’d be stuck alone. Alone at the beginning of his reign, and alone at the end.

The first time he had been alone, his heart had been hurriedly stitched back together to make it strong enough to survive putting on a brave face for his people, and getting through his day-to-day life. It managed it, just, failing from time to time when it got pushed slightly too far, but it was enough. The problem with that, though, was that it had been rushed, hadn’t been allowed to heal in the way it should have done, so although it held itself together, it had hardly been healed at all.

If he was to end up alone again, Gon feared the damage would be irreparable.

It just wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth letting himself believe that Yeong might feel the same way, because if he was kidding himself then the consequences would be catastrophic.

Sure, he had told himself he was going to be open about his feelings today, but this wasn’t a feeling, it was blind, stupid, optimistic delusion.

Yeong was not in love with him. He just wasn’t.

That was all he could allow himself to believe, if he desired any sort of deep connection at all.

He couldn’t afford to lose Yeong, so Yeong couldn’t be in love with him, to force Gon to respect that so he could save himself.

***

It was almost midnight, when they arrived back in the Kingdom of Corea. The forest was pitch black, and it took more trial and error than either Yeong or Gon was willing to admit to get back to the palace.

The palace was dark too. Dark, and silent, with only the quiet ticking of the clocks creating any background noise. Even the guards that were on the night shift were quiet, not wanting to disturb the peace.

After their long day, the two men sneaking through the empty corridors were quiet too, enjoying each other’s company without needing to make small talk.

Yeong was grateful for the silence. Silence gave him time to think, and he had a lot of things to think about.

For example, he had time to think about how, as the day had progressed, he had allowed himself to slip, and wonder if, by embracing his feelings, Gon had meant embracing his feelings for Yeong.

He knew that wasn’t what it was, but he also knew that afternoon had felt like one long date, and that he wouldn’t be able to stop replaying it over and over in his mind, thinking about what might have been if their world was just a little like the one that Gon had visited with Taeeul.

God, that seemed like a lifetime ago, when it was really only the day before.

Gon was still holding his hand. Thinking about it, Gon had spent a lot of today touching Yeong in one way or another. Perhaps he was testing for himself his claim about liking it when Yeong touched him. If he was sure that was true, then maybe he was letting himself enjoy this new experience, one that he hadn’t had for as long as he’d been King.

It wouldn’t do Gon any harm for Yeong to enjoy it too. He didn’t need to know that just the idea that Yeong wasn’t hurting him every time they made contact made his head spin, and warmed his soul in ways he didn’t think were possible.

“Yeong-ah,” Gon broke the silence, looking nervous as he asked, “did you enjoy today?”

“I did,” he answered, and it was nothing but the truth, “it was nice to be able to do things I wouldn’t normally do.”

“Did you enjoy spending it with me?” he then asked, stopping and turning around to face Yeong.

What kind of a question was that? Of course he did; the quality time with Gon, no boundaries, no restrictions, had been the very best part.

“I enjoyed that too. It felt like old times, when we were kids,” was what he went with, though, figuring the comparison to their childhood would divert from any more adult attention.

“It did,” Gon smiled, looking down and appearing to reminisce, “but we’ve changed a lot since then, haven’t we? Grown. Matured, somewhat. I’d like to think, anyway.”

“We have. I mean, you never hugged me when you were younger, and now you can’t seem to get your hands off me.”

“I suppose I can’t,” Gon laughed, rubbing his thumb across Yeong’s wrist on the hand he still held and making something in Yeong’s chest tighten. “I never thought I’d be able to touch another person again, back then, so I guess I’m indulging my inner child, and then my inner repressed teenager, by letting myself touch you.”

“Repressed teenager?”

“I realised early on in my teens that sexual intimacy would be a no-go, if I couldn’t even handle holding hands without feeling like I was suffocating. Even more casual gestures like kissing seemed like far more pain than they were worth.”

“You can hold my hand,” Yeong pointed out, a tiny, naïve, optimistic part of him hoping that Gon would pick up on what he was implying.

“I can,” Gon responded, giving nothing away. “I can hold your hand, and hug you, and go to sleep in your arms.”

“Do you think you could do more than that?” Yeong probed, waiting with bated breath.

“I think so.” Gon lifted his free hand to Yeong’s face, gently caressing his cheek. He shuddered a little at the touch, but the smile ghosting his face suggested it wasn’t a shudder of disgust, but of pleasure. “I think I’d enjoy it too.”

Yeong was definitely being overly optimistic. Or he was hallucinating. Or dreaming.

But right now, it really looked as if Gon wanted what Yeong had spent fifteen years hoping he wanted.

He placed his own free hand on Gon’s chest to steady himself, and to hold himself back until he was properly sure. Gon’s heart was pounding at twice the normal rate, and it took all Yeong’s strength not to take that as the sign he needed to ruin their friendship for good.

Jihun had said he should kiss Gon by the end of the day. Maybe this was his chance to do just that.

“Would you… like to try?” he breathed, already imagining the feel of Gon’s lips, the taste of his mouth, the sparks that he knew would be flying as he realised his years-old dream.

Gon said nothing, but his eyes said it all. He looked positively drunk on desire as his lips rested slightly open, and he hesitantly started to lean closer to Yeong, gently tilting Yeong’s head up with the hand that rested there.

Yeong couldn’t tear his eyes away. Everything was Gon. His world was Gon, and Gon’s eyes and Gon’s lips and Gon’s hands and Gon’s breath and Gon’s lo–

The grandfather clock at the end of the hallway struck twelve, startling Yeong out of his trance with a bong.

Before he could register what was happening, he had been pushed back by Gon, who still had his hand resting, lingering on Yeong’s chest.

“Thank you for today, Yeong-ah,” he whispered, a distinctive edge of disappointment to his hesitant words, even though he had put on a half-hearted smile. “I enjoyed being Just Lee Gon with you.”

With that, he turned around and walked away, holding his arms protectively around himself. He didn’t look back, only disappeared down the corridor and out of sight, presumably to his bedroom.

He didn’t even look back. Didn’t invite Yeong with him, not even as a tool to fend off the nightmares.

Just like every other time Yeong thought they were having a moment, Gon proved to Yeong that it was all in his head, crumbling his hope to dust at the very last second.

Yeong had been sure that was it. He was sure. He was sure Gon had wanted it just as much as he did, was sure that the look on Gon’s face was almost identical to Jihun’s when Yeong kissed him, except Gon looked like he wanted it more.

But yet again, it had proved to be Yeong’s wishful thinking. This whole day of activities that felt like dates was just Yeong’s wishful thinking.

When he was sure Gon was safely out of sight and out of earshot, Yeong sank to the floor, defeated, and cried. He briefly registered that this was the second time he’d cried in as many days, but he didn’t care.

Yeong had let his guard down today. He had got too comfortable and forgot to shield his heart, and then at the end of the day had offered it up to Gon on a silver platter.

And Gon had taken his heart, and ripped it to shreds.

He was so, so stupid. He didn’t deserve consolation, because he shouldn’t have let himself get in this mess in the first place. He should let it hurt, to ensure he didn’t make the same mistake again.

But when he let it hurt, the pain was excruciating. Where before his crying had been more reminiscent of muffled sobs, as he desperately wished he could man up and get over it, and get over him, the quiet chokes turned into loud, raw, animalistic roars as the feelings erupted from his chest and burst out into the real world.

This was what he got, for opening himself up. For falling into Gon’s trap of kind words and gentle touches.

Lee Gon was like a siren, his call impossible to resist, but deadly to the poor Captain that listened to it. Yeong would never be able to stop loving him, and he would spend every day of the rest of his life reaping the consequences. Feeling alone, like there was a part of his soul missing that he would never be able to find, because Gon had already given it to someone else. Taeeul, maybe, or whoever else became his Queen.

Jo Yeong was but a lowly bodyguard, who had dared to dream lofty dreams above his station.

Jo Yeong would always be Captain Jo, the Unbreakable Sword. Cursed to keep his feelings to himself if he wanted to experience even a shred of happiness, because if he let himself out of that professional persona, it would end in the loss of everything he’d ever known, and the gaining of a broken heart.

Today had been a warning. Being anyone other than Captain Jo would ultimately end in disappointment and despair.

Yeong wondered if it was even worth it. He could quit, right now, and take himself away from the situation, away from heartbreak, and away from Gon. He might even be able to move on, make a quiet place for himself with a husband, and maybe some kids.

But even now, crumpled on the floor in a dark corner of Busan Palace, Yeong couldn’t let go of Gon. He couldn’t let go of Gon’s smile, of the sparkle in his eyes that he got when he was inspired, and that had stayed dancing there that entire afternoon. He couldn’t let go of Gon’s ramblings about obscure mathematics, he couldn’t let go of his small abuses of power that he used to make Yeong smile, he couldn’t let go of the sound of Gon saying ‘Yeong-ah,’ or the way Gon’s hand fit perfectly in his, or the way Gon clung onto Yeong so tightly when they hugged, as if he never wanted to let go.

Last night, he had promised Gon that he wouldn’t ever leave him. That he’d been there since the beginning, and he’d be there at the end.

He couldn’t let that go, even if it hurt. Even if they could never have what Yeong truly desired.

It was wrong of him, really, to expect that from Gon. Yeong would take what Gon gave, and that would be enough. That would always be enough.

Hadn’t he always told himself that he’d be happy if he got to quietly show his love for Gon by serving him in the shadows and protecting him with his life? Why did that have to change, just because he’d allowed himself to hope for something more?

Jo Yeong was in love with Lee Gon. That was just a fact of life. He could either let himself suffer because of it, or he could pull himself together, move on, and make the best of a bad situation.

So Yeong picked himself off the floor, put on a smile, and made his way home.

His apartment felt lonely, and empty, somehow, without Gon by his side.

His bed felt cold, and in the end he resorted to hugging a spare pillow to quench his desire to hold Gon close to him, as he had done the night before.

He wondered if Gon was doing alright without Yeong next to him, chasing the nightmares away.

***

King Lee Gon didn’t let himself think that perhaps he should have invited Yeong back with him.

King Lee Gon didn’t let himself falter as he climbed under his silk bedsheets, and he didn’t let himself wish that he was being enveloped by the comforting weight of Yeong’s embrace as he went to sleep.

King Lee Gon didn’t let himself regret pushing Yeong away, saving himself and his country in the process. In the long run.

King Lee Gon didn’t do any of that, but Gon did. Gon felt more alone than he had felt in a very long time, but he had promised himself he would push his feelings back down at the end of the day, and so that’s what he was going to do.

If he listened carefully, Gon thought he could hear Yeong crying, though that might have been his ears playing tricks on him as the sound was so faint, and Yeong was probably well on his way back home, glad to have escaped the last of Gon’s whims.

It had taken all of Gon’s strength not to look back. It was taking all of his strength now not to go and run back through the palace to find Yeong and take him back into his bedroom and kiss him against the sheets, closing one of the last barriers that existed between them.

But Gon had to leave him be. This was the sensible option, the logical option, and it would do him no good to mull over hypotheticals.

He couldn’t let himself have a day like that again, or Gon feared he wouldn’t be strong enough to resist continuing it next time.

The only way to ensure that was to lock his heart away, and the only way to do that was to lock it into a marriage.

Next time he saw Taeeul, he would propose to her. Properly, this time, with a grand gesture of love and appreciation to give her the fairytale proposal of her dreams, a proposal fit for a queen.

How could she refuse, if Gon offered her everything she wanted?

Gon had another nightmare, that night. This time, Gon tried to kiss Yeong, but he crumbled into dust just before their lips met, leaving a gaping hole in Gon’s arms and Gon’s heart.

He woke up, and his bed was empty. Devoid of Yeong, as it would remain from now until the end of time.

Chapter Text

Above all else, Jo Yeong liked to believe that he was a pragmatist. Sure, he had feelings, everyone did, but when you’re the Captain of the Royal Guard, the King’s Unbreakable Sword, efficiency and practicality had to come before all else.

This was why, the morning after Yeong’s hopes were dashed for what he was adamant was going to be the last time, he put together a battle strategy for getting over Gon, once and for all.

To make it official, he wrote it down as a list and stuck it on his fridge, so he could remind himself every day of his goal, and how important it was to stick to it.

Getting over Gon 101:

Step 1: Avoid Gon until the truth stops hurting, as not only will this mean that when you see Gon again, you’ll be able to keep composure, but it will also prove to you that you can live without Gon, and that you’re better off that way.

Step 2: Support Gon in his relationship with Taeeul. Be nice to Taeeul, and don’t glare at her. If you tell yourself enough that you’re happy for them, eventually you really might be.

Step 3: Stop reading Seungah’s fanfiction. Though it’s addictive, it’s not beneficial to you eventually moving on, as it keeps the hope that you might one day be with Gon alive.

Step 4: Every time someone teases you about Gon, tell them you don’t love him anymore. As with step 2, if you repeat it enough you might eventually believe it.

Step 5: When you’re ready, start dating other people. Who knows, you might eventually fall in love with one of them instead, and then you’ll wonder what you ever saw in King Lee Gon.

And remember – Gon does not love you. Don’t fall for his tricks and start believing he does.

Yeong stood back and admired his handiwork. He was good at following orders and sticking to plans, so if he just followed those five steps, then he should be over Gon in no time.

He was happy, he told himself, he was happy that Gon was happy with Taeeul. He was happy that his straight best friend had found happiness with his straight girlfriend, and he was happy that they’d continue their lives together in domestic bliss.

He was happy, and he wouldn’t let himself feel sad for what he’d lost, because realistically he hadn’t lost anything at all. Before yesterday, he and Gon were friends, and yesterday he and Gon were friends, and now he and Gon were still friends. That’s all there was to it.

He was happy, and he was decidedly over the almost-kiss that he might have shared with the man who was no longer going to be the man of his dreams. It didn’t matter. It was in the past, and it was over now.

This was a new chapter for Captain Jo Yeong. A new chapter of freedom, a new chapter of happiness, and a new chapter of not letting fantasy get in the way of reality ever again.

And this new chapter would start tomorrow, after Yeong had spent a full day watching romantic movies and feeling sorry for himself.

Still dressed in his pyjamas, as he had no plans to get changed out of them, Yeong popped some popcorn, opened a new box of tissues, and sat down swaddled in blankets in the middle of May ready to cry over some convoluted heterosexual drama.

Just as he turned on his TV, however, his phone lit up with a message from Seungah, which he tried his best to ignore, but then she sent another, and another, and another, and finally Yeong’s curiosity got the better of him so he caved and had a look.

CHAT: You and Myeong Seungah

Myeong Seungah:

yeong ur needed at the palace right now

Myeong Seungah:

u r in DEEP SHIT

Myeong Seungah:

well, u and his majesty

Myeong Seungah:

i think lady noh might commit a murder

Myeong Seungah:

admittedly this isnt a very good argument for u to get over here

Myeong Seungah:

but if u dont come asap its just gonna be worse

Myeong Seungah:

pls yeong im scared for MY life and im not the one who was mia all of yesterday

Myeong Seungah:

also WHERE THE HELL WERE U YESTERDAY

Myeong Seungah:

u can tell me that later tho

Myeong Seungah:

for now please come and rescue me, brave captain :’(

You:

Fuck.

You:

I forgot about that. Lots on my mind.

You:

I need to get dressed first and then I’ll be right with you.

Myeong Seungah:

YEONG WTF ITS ALMOST MIDDAY

Myeong Seungah:

UR NORMALLY READY AT ASS O CLOCK IN THE MORNING

Myeong Seungah:

HURRY UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Some more messages came through after that, but Yeong didn’t stop to take notice of them as he was too busy hurriedly putting on the first clothes his hands could reach, and then quickly combing back his hair as he headed out of the door, towards the palace.

He really had forgotten about Lady Noh. With all that had happened, with his thoughts in complete disarray after Gon left him yesterday, and then his rushed attempt to get himself back on his feet after a night of fitful sleep, the Head Court Lady’s wrath was the least of his worries.

Yeong decided to blame the fact that he’d been off work for a few weeks for his deteriorating ability to perform his duties, since evidently those were becoming far too hard for his pampered mind.

Hopefully Gon hadn’t got in too much trouble already. Even if he had failed thus far as Captain of the Royal Guard, he could start making amends today by protecting his King.

Oh. His King.

Shit.

Gon was going to be there.

How had he managed to fail to follow his simple plan this early on? He had only put it together that morning!

Step 1: Avoid Gon until the truth stops hurting, as not only will this mean that when you see Gon again, you’ll be able to keep composure, but it will also prove to you that you can live without Gon, and that you’re better off that way.

The truth had definitely not stopped hurting, and Yeong was doubtful that he’d be able to maintain even a shred of composure.

And if Gon smiled at him, or put his arm around him, or held his hand, or interacted with him in any way that wasn’t cold, emotionless professionalism, Yeong knew that his heart would realise once again that it couldn’t live without Gon, and it was imperative he didn’t let that happen.

Once again, yesterday’s actions had royally screwed him over.

With this in mind, Yeong became almost grateful for the punishment he was about to receive. It was what he deserved for yesterday’s fiasco.

Seungah was waiting for Yeong by the door to the palace, pacing back and forth while scanning the path leading to the Royal Guard’s apartments. When she saw Yeong, she ran down and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him all the way to Gon’s study, anxiously muttering curses about Yeong’s tardiness the whole way there.

The door to the study was already open, and Yeong would have loved to have believed that the first thing he saw was Lady Noh turning to face the door, her hands on her hips and her face twisted into a frown.

It wasn’t. The first thing he saw was Lee Gon slowly raise his head from where it was hanging ashamedly, and offer Yeong a smile that appeared to be equally sympathetic and apologetic.

Apologetic for getting Yeong into trouble, he decided. Not for anything else. Gon didn’t feel any remorse for last night, because it wouldn’t have crossed his mind that maybe he’d broken Yeong’s heart.

Yeong didn’t want Gon’s apology, or his sympathy. He didn’t want to see Gon at all, so he determinedly looked away, turning his head as far away from Gon as he could manage.

Out of sight, out of mind. No more Lee Gon. No more pain.

Not making eye contact with Gon once, Yeong went and took his place beside him, figuring that if Gon was to his side, and Lady Noh was in front of them both, then he could just focus on getting reprimanded, instead of on the man next to him.

Even so, just being in close proximity to him was enough to kick his unhelpful feelings back into action, though now they weren’t sure whether Gon made them joyous or despondent.

On the one hand, just the thought of Gon brought him right back to the night before, and his stupidity of letting Gon raise his hopes up far higher than they ever should have risen, before tearing them right back down, and in turn dragging Yeong back down to the harsh plane of reality.

On the other hand, it was Gon, and just the knowledge that Gon was there, and by his side again, and had offered him a smile, cut through the flimsy layers of protection Yeong was trying to rebuild over his heart and sat and glowed there, warming his soul in ways he was really trying to avoid.

God, even now he was failing. Even after yesterday had proved that getting close to Gon was not only foolhardy but dangerous, he was letting those feelings of warmth slip through the cracks because he was greedy and selfish and pathetic.

Gon did not love him, Yeong had to remind himself. Forcibly reminded himself.

Gon did not love him.

Gon did not care.

Yeong was just staff, at the end of the day, and Gon did not care, and did not love him.

It was all too much. It was too early for Yeong to be dealing with Gon, and how Gon made him feel, and the inner turmoil of the fight between his head and his heart, and the agony of having to break his own heart time and time again all threatened to burst out at any moment.

He wanted to run away.

He wanted to run into Gon’s arms.

He wanted to leave the palace and never return.

He wanted to stay here, hold Gon close, and never let go.

“Yeong-ah,” Gon whispered, and oh God the tenderness with which he said Yeong’s name was tearing Yeong’s poor heart to shreds as he forced himself to believe it meant nothing at all, “are you alright?”

No! Of course he wasn’t alright, King Lee Gon! How on Earth could Yeong be expected to be alright while he was still in the middle of seriously coming to terms with the fact that his soulmate didn’t want him, and he’d be cast out into the shadows forever?

Yeong didn’t answer, for he feared that if he tried, sobs would come out instead of words, and then he’d have to explain why he was upset, and then he wouldn’t even be able to hold on to the little piece of Gon he had.

Luckily, Lady Noh chose that moment to start sharing her disapproval of his and Gon’s actions, saving Yeong from the torture of Gon probing further, and acting like he actually gave a crap instead of shunning Yeong as he really should for his gross impropriety.

“Your Majesty,” she began, “Captain Jo. Now, I know I am old, and my memory isn’t what it used to be, but am I right in recalling that you both said you would be gone for one day, and then you would return to the palace so His Majesty could resume his duties on the following day?”

“Yes, Head Court Lady,” Yeong mumbled, unable to produce any sound more confident than that.

Gon didn’t respond at all. He was the King, and he had no obligation to respond respectfully to Lady Noh’s complaints.

“So you were aware, then, that His Majesty was meant to be attending the unveiling of the new stadium in Daejeon yesterday afternoon? And then that he was meant to be in the audience at a performance by the Royal Ballet in the evening?”

“I was not aware of his exact schedules, since I am not currently working, but I was aware that he did have events to attend,” Yeong admitted, forcing himself to put his chin up and grimace through it. The act of being scolded for their truancy yesterday was strangely cathartic, since it was like he was finally getting the punishment he felt he deserved, in one way or another.

“And yet, Captain Jo, His Majesty was nowhere to be found yesterday, and he didn’t come home the night before. Can you explain that?”

“I–”

“I convinced him, Head Court Lady. Please don’t blame my absence on Yeong, because he was just following my orders. I made him stay another day.”

“I’m sorry, Head Court Lady,” Yeong said anyway, bowing his head and ignoring Gon’s attempt to shift the blame onto himself, “I let His Majesty coax me into being lax in my duties. It won’t happen again.”

“Yeong-ah.” Gon’s voice was stern this time, but Yeong didn’t look up. He was not going to face Gon, and he was not going to acknowledge his presence any more than he had to. “Don’t take the blame for this – and that’s an order. I know you know as well as I do that yesterday was my fault.”

“It was at least mine in equal measure,” Yeong argued, finding it harder and harder to resist looking up and meeting Gon’s eyes.

“No, it wasn’t. You did your job and warned me of the consequences, but I went ahead with it anyway.”

“And I let you get away with it too easily!”

“I’m the King, Yeong-ah, I forced it on you.”

“But I wanted it, Gon!” Yeong all but cried, his internal barriers giving way as he finally turned to face Gon, who had the audacity to look concerned, and confused, and yet ultimately compassionate. “I wanted it, and I shouldn’t have wanted it because it is not my place to want.”

That’s it. He was going to cry again, for the third time in three days, because the doors to his emotions had been opened and Gon looked like he cared but he didn’t care and Yeong shouldn’t be receiving care, he should be receiving punishment, and Gon wasn’t letting him have even that.

Yeong was a lousy Unbreakable Sword. He criticised Eunseob for being too weak for the title, but it wasn’t like he was any better.

“Yes, it is,” Gon pretended to soothe, offering comfort in mockery of Yeong’s weakness, “Yeong-ah, of course it’s your place to want things. It’s not your fault you wanted what I offered, because there isn’t a single person out there who doesn’t have things they wish they could do.”

Tentatively, shakily, Gon reached out a hand, gently touching his fingers on the side of Yeong’s face where they rested yesterday, bringing back memories of want that were far stronger than anything Yeong had experienced before in his life. His body was crying out to lean into Gon’s touch, and then to swiftly pull him into the kiss that they had so nearly reached the day before.

Except he couldn’t do that, so he batted Gon’s hand away, snarling.

That – That finally hurt Gon. The look of compassion was gone, and there was the distinctive feeling of something behind his eyes breaking before it was replaced with a cold indifference.

“It was my fault,” Gon insisted, his voice flat and unwavering. “Yesterday was my mistake. Don’t punish Yeong. That’s an order, Head Court Lady.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” she conceded, the harsh lines of her expression softening as she surveyed the tense men before her. “Captain Jo, you’re free to go.”

“Thank you, Head Court Lady,” Yeong said with a bow, before he tried not to sprint out of the room, and away from Gon, who – oh God, he had hurt Gon. Gon closed himself off just then, and that was Yeong’s fault.

This was what he got! This was what he got for letting his heart get broken, because now his pain had hurt Gon and why, why couldn’t he have just been left alone?

Yeong was meant to be there for Gon. He was meant to comfort Gon, to support Gon, not to knock him down! How could he fail at his most important task?

He had pledged to himself that he’d make sure Gon was happy, no matter what. That meant no matter your own feelings, Jo Yeong, Gon’s were always more important, but now you’ve managed to hurt both yourself and Gon because you’re a useless, worthless–

“Yeong!” Seungah called, hurrying after him after closing the door to Gon’s study, “Wait, Yeong!”

“Leave me alone, Seungah,” Yeong groaned, without bothering to look back.

“When you ask to be left alone, all that means is I know you definitely need company, whether you want it or not,” Seungah informed him as she caught up, and matched her pace with his so they were walking side by side. “Now spill. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Jo Yeong. When you texted me you said, and I quote, ‘Lots on my mind,’ so I will try again. What’s up?”

“It’s pathetic.”

“So it is about His Majesty.” She paused. “Is this related to what you did yesterday?”

“Yes. It is. And I thought I had given myself at least a full day to recover, but because the universe fucking hates me I had to see him again, and then he had to be nice to me, and then because I’m a self-sabotaging prick who helps no one, I hurt him in my last-ditch attempt to stop myself doing something I’ll regret, which I am now regretting!”

“Ok. Can we try that again with more details and less negative self-talk?” she asked, leaning round to look up at Yeong and smile encouragingly.

“You’re incredibly annoying, you know that?” Yeong sighed, to which Seungah replied with a cheery nod of her head. “Fine. But not here. There’ll be people listening.”

“Alright, you’ve stalled long enough,” Seungah tried again, once they’d reached Yeong’s apartment and the door had been safely locked, “what the hell happened yesterday? Last thing I knew you were going on a date with the other world’s Gon, and then you disappeared for a day, and now you show up again, frankly looking like shit.”

“Oh God, Jihun,” Yeong groaned, resting his face in his hands, “I’d forgotten about him. I cocked that up too.”

“Too similar to Gon?” Seungah asked, and Yeong nodded despairingly. “I thought that might happen. I know you, and I know you’ll never settle for less than perfect.”

“He was meant to be perfect.”

“But he wasn’t, and that’s ok. But look, if you’d forgotten about this guy then he can’t be what’s got you like this. Come on, talk to Auntie Seungah, tell me what’s on your mind.” Seungah tried to put a comforting arm around him, but Yeong shrugged her off, leaning away and curling slightly into himself.

He didn’t need comfort. Didn’t want comfort.

“You really want to know?” Yeong attempted to dispel her unwanted attention for the final time, but Seungah wasn’t having it.

“I do.”

“Fine. Gon got this bright idea yesterday to free ourselves of our status for the day, being ‘Just Gon’ and ‘Just Yeong’ instead of the King and Captain Jo, because he said he wanted to feel his feelings freely for a day or some shit after he got too overwhelmed the day before and ended up having a panic attack.”

“His Majesty had a panic attack?” Seungah exclaimed, forcibly turning Yeong’s shoulder so he faced her, and could see her shocked expression.

“I was going to tell Lady Noh at some point. He used to get them a lot as a child, but he hasn’t had one in a number of years. Look, that’s hardly the point, I handled it and I think he’s doing a lot better now, really this is just context for him deciding that yesterday we’d stay in the other world and just… let loose for a day. Do things we’d never normally have the opportunity to do.”

“That actually sounds pretty nice,” poor, naïve, innocent Seungah commented.

“It was,” stupid, idiotic Yeong agreed, “while it lasted, it was probably one of the best days I’ve had in my life. It almost felt like we were out on one big date, for the whole day, and because I have absolutely zero sense of self-preservation, I let myself believe that’s what it was. Of course, it didn’t help that Gon was coming out with shit like, ‘oh Yeong-ah, I love having you pressed up against me,’ and, ‘God, Yeong-ah, you’re so hot when you act all manly like that.’”

“He said that? Are you totally sure he doesn’t have feelings for you?”

“I haven’t finished yet,” Yeong sighed, really wishing he could leave it there, making yesterday just a happy, charming, romantic story. “After we got back, we started to have what I thought was a moment, which was incredibly stupid of me because I know he has a girlfriend who he is madly in love with, but he started talking about how he realised he’d never be able to kiss someone without hating it because of his touch aversion, but the night before he’d told me that I was the one person he could touch without feeling uncomfortable, so I might have sort of offered in a roundabout way for him to kiss me, and for a second it honestly looked like he wanted it too, but then the day ended because the clocks struck midnight and he pushed me away and walked off and didn’t look back.”

Seungah looked awestruck. Her expression was contorting into one of some kind of ambiguous shock, and though she looked as if she wanted to say something, no words came out of her mouth. She tried again to reach out to Yeong, and Yeong let her this time, no longer having the mental strength to push her away.

“You know what the worst part is?” Yeong continued, not stopping to wait for an answer to his question, “If the clock hadn’t stopped us, I would have done it. I would have kissed him, even though I know he’s straight, even though I know he has a girlfriend, because in that moment all I could think about was how much I wanted it, and how much I thought he wanted it too. So basically, I let my hopes get way too high for something happening between us, and now I’ve crashed again and I fucking hate it, and I fucking hate myself for letting it happen.”

There. That was the truth of it. Yeong hoped Seungah was happy, because he sure wasn’t.

Seungah didn’t look happy, however. Instead, she looked thoughtful, as if she was carefully considering her next move.

Had Yeong fucked up their conversation too, by going in too hard and too fast? Figured. The last forty-eight hours had proved that human interaction was not his strong suit, as if he didn’t know that already.

“So what you’re telling me,” she eventually said, speaking slowly and calmly as she solidified her idea, “is that you’re upset because you’re mad at yourself.”

“Yes,” Yeong confirmed, “I’m mad at myself because I let myself truly get my hopes up over an impossibility. I should have been more sensible than that.”

“Why should you?” she asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Yeong murmured, “because I should have known better?”

“Why? He’s never seemed like he wanted to kiss you before. How were you to have known what was best in that situation?”

“Because he’s straight.”

“Is he?” Seungah countered, a smirk beginning to play at her lips.

“He has a girlfriend,” Yeong countered, trying to keep his voice as unemotional as possible.

“And yet when he decided to embrace his real feelings for a day, he decided to spend that day with you. Going on dates with you. Giving you flirtatious comments. Almost kissing you. Doesn’t that make you wonder?”

“It did, and that’s the problem, Seungah! I let myself be tricked by all of that, and look where I’ve ended up!” Yeong stood up, and ran a frustrated hand through his hair before gesturing to the abandoned popcorn from before. “I planned to hole myself up for a day because I couldn’t deal with any of this, and that drastic action is just because I let myself believe for a second that maybe Gon wanted me like I want him.”

“Yeong…” Seungah stood up too, and put her hands on his arms, holding him at arms length and looking into his eyes, “if you’re right, and all of what Gon did yesterday didn’t mean anything, then I can safely say you’re not stupid for believing it anyway. From where I’m standing, and from what you’ve described, that’s exactly how I would imagine Gon acting if he was in love with you – and you can trust me, I’m an expert on how Gon acts when he’s in love with you. Anyone with eyes, ears, and a brain would assume that he was in love with you, so please don’t be too harsh on yourself for assuming that too.”

“I need to be harsh,” Yeong simply told her, “I need to make sure I don’t feel that kind of hurt again.”

“So you’re hurting yourself to make sure you’re not hurt? Jo Yeong, that’s bullshit! You don’t need to be harsh on yourself, you need to show yourself some compassion!”

Yeong wanted to argue, but try as he might, he couldn’t. That selfish part of him that wanted love was fighting tooth and nail against all of Yeong’s defences to listen to Seungah and forgive himself, and to fall into Seungah’s arms and demand comfort, but if he learnt that getting upset over Gon elicited care, wouldn’t that only encourage him to do it again?

Compassion wasn’t on the cards. He was stronger than that. He would power through, and learn a valuable lesson in the process.

And yet he couldn’t argue, because his soul was crying out with all its might for love it did not deserve.

No. He was the Unbreakable Sword, a weapon and nothing more. Weapons didn’t have souls. They were uncomplicated and unyielding, and felt nothing for the kings that wielded them.

“Gosh, is that really so groundbreaking you’re rendered speechless?” Seungah sighed, removing her arms from Yeong and folding them instead. “The wonders of toxic masculinity never cease. You’re allowed to be kind to yourself, Jo Yeong, you’re only human, just like the rest of us.”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

Seungah laughed, “Don’t we all? Unfortunately your pesky human emotions are here to stay, so you can either treat yourself harshly and be miserable, or you can be kind to yourself, and let others be kind to you, so you can be happy in yourself even if you’ve been hurt.”

“Gon was kind to me yesterday. Look how that turned out.”

“That’s because he cares about you, romantic feelings or not. I think he still cares about you today, based on how he tried to ask if you were alright, and then proceeded to absolve you of any blame for going missing yesterday.”

“And then I hurt him anyway.”

“Because you were already hurting, because you’re being way too hard on yourself! Please, Yeong, I am begging you, let your friends take care of you, even if you’re not going to take care of yourself.”

The rational part of Yeong’s mind was screaming at him to ignore Seungah. He had a plan, and he was going to stick to it, because he was good at following orders, and pushing himself to his limits, and carrying on when the times got tough. That’s what being the Unbreakable Sword meant.

But really, hadn’t he just proved to himself that he wasn’t the Unbreakable Sword? When it all came down to it, he was just Jo Yeong. Weak. Selfish. Needy. Greedy for comfort he didn’t deserve, but that he desperately wanted anyway.

And oh, how he wanted to be cared for. He knew it was dangerous; he couldn’t let himself get used to the idea, because that would only end in disappointment when the care didn’t come his way, and then he’d just have to learn to survive alone all over again, but still he wholly, desperately wanted.

It was wrong for him to ask. What could be more selfish than asking for comfort he didn’t deserve?

Yet still he wanted. And if Seungah considered herself Yeong’s friend, as he assumed she did, then surely she had all but offered?

Yeong was selfish, but that was a character flaw he could address when he had the mental strength left for some self-improvement. For now, with no resolve left, he chose instead to regress back to the version of himself that was weak enough to let itself get hurt, time and time again.

He took a tentative step forward, and then another, and then another, and then he threw his arms around Seungah, gripping so tightly she might have been the last thing tethering Yeong to sanity.

Honestly? She probably was.

“Shh,” she soothed, wrapping her own arms around Yeong in return, and letting her fingers rub gentle circles into his back, “I’m here, Yeong, I’ve got you. You’re doing great.”

***

“So where were you, Your Majesty?” Lady Noh asked, after Yeong had left and Seungah disappeared after him.

Gon hoped she was going to look after him. When he arrived, Gon’s heart found it impossible not to break as his Captain looked like he had endured the same quality of sleep Gon had, and somehow he doubted that the redness around Yeong’s eyes was totally due to his hay fever.

He should have invited Yeong back with him. At least given him an explanation as to why he left with so little warning.

But he didn’t, because he was an asshole who prioritised his own feelings, or crushing thereof, over anyone else’s, and now Yeong was paying the price.

Now Yeong didn’t seem to want anything to do with him.

Maybe that would be beneficial. If he didn’t have Yeong around, then focusing his efforts on Taeeul would be a hell of a lot easier.

Yeong’s words from the day before came to mind: You can’t just get rid of feelings.

His friend didn’t know how right he was. All Gon wanted to do was pull Yeong into his arms and whisper a thousand apologies for leaving him alone when he was offering, when it had really seemed like he wanted–

No, Lee Gon. You’re not going to dwell on that. No more feelings, no more true love, no more considering the possibility of kissing the man you’re not meant to be in love with.

For all intents and purposes, Gon was straight. He had to remember that. It was imperative that he remembered that.

“Are you listening to me?” Lady Noh cut through Gon’s thoughts, more stern than before. “I asked you a question, Your Majesty.”

“I was with Yeong,” he answered honestly. “I was stressed the day before, so I offered him the opportunity for us to drop our duties and statuses for a day so I could let myself recover, which he agreed to. This was in a safe environment, of course, so there’s no need for you to panic.”

“You were with Yeong?” she queried, “I thought you might have been sneaking off to see your lady-friend.”

“Right,” Gon sighed, “her. That would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. We both know–”

“No, Lady Noh. I’m not getting into this discussion again. Not when I’m planning to propose to Taeeul when I see her next.”

He couldn’t afford distractions. Couldn’t afford the Head Court Lady pushing doubts into his consciousness, not when his decision to marry Taeeul was shaky at best.

“Propose?” Lady Noh exclaimed with a gasp, bringing a hand to her open mouth. “But the court doesn’t know a thing about this woman! She could be a serial killer for all we know, and you’re planning to make her your Queen?”

“Lady Noh, please. I’m not going to love another woman like I love her. The way it’s looking now, it’s going to be her or no one, and I can’t afford to marry no one. She’s my last hope for living the rest of my life as scandal-free as possible, and I’m not going to hesitate just because you don’t know her.”

He wasn’t going to hesitate, full-stop. With hesitation came distraction, and doubt, and he couldn’t have either of those if he was going to commit to giving Taeeul the proposal of her dreams.

“But are you sure that’s what you want, Your Majesty?” Lady Noh probed, because apparently his heart was sitting in a transparent glass box, for all the world to see. “It’s not too late to look for someone else, someone who might be… more your type.”

“You are treading a dangerous line, Head Court Lady,” Gon snarled, narrowing his eyes and frowning at the woman in front of him. “I’ve made my decision, and I’m not going to go back on it.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, “I’m only trying to help.”

“Well you’re not helping!” Gon spat, marching over to his desk so he could sit in his chair and focus all his attention on glaring at her.

“Your Majesty, I know you’re dead set on marrying this woman, but this decision is obviously stressing you out–”

“You’re stressing me out!”

“–and if you were confident in your decision, you wouldn’t be stressed. Personally, I think it would be beneficial if you let yourself admit the truth of the matter, and get it out in the open instead of cutting me off every time I try to say–”

“Head Court Lady, don’t–”

“–that you’re gay, Your Majesty. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I told you never to mention that again!” Gon snapped, standing up and leaning forward over his desk, pointing his finger accusingly at Lady Noh. “We agreed right here in this very room that we would never again discuss my – my sexual preferences, and we agreed that you would support me in finding a woman to make my Queen.”

“Your Majesty, that’s because you were inconsolable! What else was I meant to say when you were in tears, begging me to help you find someone to marry?”

“Nothing! You were meant to say exactly what you said, and you were meant to mean it! I want to marry Taeeul, regardless of sexual or romantic attraction, so why can’t you be happy for me succeeding in trying to be normal?”

“Because that’s not you, Your Majesty,” Lady Noh countered, her expression softening into one of pity, which was really the last thing Gon wanted or needed right now. “You always talk about how your country’s been through enough, but haven’t you been through enough too? You deserve to be happy, and I don’t think she’s going to make you as happy as you could be.”

“I don’t care,” Gon scoffed, flopping back into his chair and sinking backwards into the seat, before looking up at Lady Noh from his slumped position. “I never expected to find love anyway, so now I’m not disappointed that I can’t have it.”

“Have you found it?” Lady Noh queried, raising her eyebrows. “Is there a lucky guy that’s caught the King’s attention?”

“Shut up,” was all Gon offered as response, folding his arms and turning his chair to the side so he didn’t have to look at the Head Court Lady’s smug face.

“Is it Captain Jo?” she then asked, a hint of amusement tainting her voice.

“Shut up,” Gon growled again, sinking lower into his chair, “I’ll have you beheaded.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she simply said, taking no notice of Gon’s groan to signal that she was really, really being unhelpful. “I don’t blame you, he’s really grown into a very attractive young man. Very caring too, great boyfriend material.”

“And you would know,” Gon rolled his eyes, “because you’ve been encouraging me for the past few weeks to start entertaining the possibility of a relationship with him.”

“Did you enjoy the fanfiction?” Lady Noh asked with a slight smirk, evidently finding enjoyment in Gon’s suffering.

When Gon answered only with a disgruntled scrunch of his nose, she also took that as a yes.

“You’re never going to let me forget this, are you?” Gon complained, staring up into space. “My chances at marrying Taeeul are completely shot to hell, because as soon as I bring her home you’re going to keep making suggestive comments about me and Yeong, and she is already suspicious that something is up there, so if I make one more wrong move that is it and we will be done. I might as well give up already, if you won’t even give me this chance.”

“And you’re sure you want the chance?” she ascertained, and Gon could tell that the answer she was looking for was no.

Tough luck, Lady Noh. Gon had already made up his mind, and try as she might, Lady Noh was not going to make him doubt his decision.

“I’m sure. I love her, and I’ve already decided that’s enough.”

“Then I will support you, Your Majesty. And I will also leave an offer open to support you if you’re finding your relationship with her difficult, because you still deserve to be happy, even if you’re sacrificing what you really want.” She bowed her head, and for the first time this conversation, Gon smiled.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

The conversation changed direction after that, with Lady Noh informing him on what he missed yesterday, and updating him on his duties for today. He hardly paid attention, as his mind was far more occupied with other important matters, like what sort of ring he should get for Taeeul, and getting over Yeong, and whether to get the others involved in the proposal, and getting over Yeong, and wondering whether he’d made the right decision, and getting himself the hell over Yeong because of course he’d made the right decision, because no matter how supportive Lady Noh was, he could not be with Jo Yeong.

Honestly how dare Lady Noh encourage his guilty feelings, when he had sworn to himself he was going to crush them today. And he really was going to crush them – he was attempting to do that now, in fact – but it was taking a lot more effort than he’d originally thought.

Seriously, how was anyone meant to not be in love with Jo Yeong when he went around being like that? Just thinking about the concept of him was starting to make Gon’s heart flutter, so thinking about him in the context of ‘you should not be in love with him’ was completely impossible!

He couldn’t forget the way that Yeong had looked up at him last night. As the nation’s beloved monarch, Gon was used to being adored, but he had never before seen love quite like what was seeping out of Yeong’s gaze, and Yeong’s words as he offered what Gon’s soul had been crying out for during their entire day together.

It almost made Gon believe that Yeong wanted it as much as he did, and that one tiny shred of hope was enough to derail any plan he had to get rid of his feelings for good.

As the King, he couldn’t be with Yeong, but he was fed up of being the King. Sure, his position had offered him superficial love, but only the sort of love that people gave to a god, where he was raised on a pedestal, never to be approached.

With Yeong he didn’t feel like the King, he just felt like Lee Gon, and that was a feeling he doubted he would ever be ready to give up.

But he had to. He was born into this job, and he had to carry it out for the rest of his life.

Yesterday was a mistake. He never should have let himself experience what he was missing, because it would take a special amount of willpower not to crave the freedom it offered.

Now, though, there was hardly any use in denying his own feelings, despite yesterday’s promises. Since he had acknowledged them, there was no way to un-acknowledge them, so he was going to be stuck loving Yeong for the rest of his miserable life.

The only hope he had at getting rid of his feelings, at least partially, was to convince himself that Yeong would never love him back.

That would be easy enough, right? That’s basically what he thought anyway.

Until last night, when Yeong had offered to kiss him. And until today, when Yeong appeared obviously hurt, and considering how he was fine all of yesterday, and how he was reluctant to pay any notice to Gon, and how a reminder of their almost-kiss seemed to hurt him even more, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was Gon leaving that had hurt him.

So then, if it really was Jihun that Yeong was on a date with, then maybe–

No, Lee Gon. No! You were meant to be convincing yourself that Yeong wasn’t in love with you, not that he was!

Sure, Yeong seemed to be offering a kiss, but he was most likely doing that because Gon had just spun a sob story about not being able to do that without it hurting, and he just wanted to help. It was a friendly gesture, and nothing more.

Yeong was straight. His very passionate kiss with Seungah was proof enough.

Gon was in a committed relationship with Taeeul. He was going to propose to Taeeul, and it was going to be beautiful and romantic, and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together as husband and wife, as King and Queen of Corea.

Gon and Yeong could not be together, end of story. There was no use in wondering about what could have been, because all that would do was make it hurt more than it already did.

Perhaps he should take Jihun out for a drink, and get completely wasted over how both their relationships with Yeong had failed before they ever began.

Or perhaps he should get wasted anyway, on the palace’s finest liqueur. That’s what people did when they felt like their lives were hopeless, right? Drink themselves into oblivion?

Eventually, Lady Noh left. Gon really, really should have been paying attention to what she was saying, but it was too late for that now. It was fine. Sub-Captain Seok would make sure he got where he needed to be, and Seungah would make sure he got the scripts for whatever he needed to say.

For now, though? There were files he could be reading, sure, and documents he could be signing, but right now all he wanted was to indulge in his favourite guilty pleasure, that suddenly seemed to make a lot more sense after yesterday’s revelation.

And so, he opened his laptop, but before he could lose himself in the world of Jogon Jogon, he noticed a load of messages in his inbox, all sent at around 3:45AM this morning. Figuring this would be as good a distraction as anything, he read them all with a slowly growing sense of sympathy.

CHAT: You and captain_dreamland

captain_dreamland:

it is 3:43 in the morning and I cannot sleep, and because I did promise I’d tell you how my date went I suppose I can tell you now

captain_dreamland:

it went SHIT

captain_dreamland:

well, it was going great but then he kissed me and I freaked out because he was way too similar to my Gon and so I realised I didn’t actually care about him at all, and then I went and cried in the toilets and he went and gave me a hug after I HURT HIM which doesn’t even make any sense

captain_dreamland:

long story short we’re friends now which I guess is fine but I still feel shitty about it

captain_dreamland:

BUT THAT’S NOT ALL

captain_dreamland:

you’re talking to the crown prince of stupid, long may he reign

captain_dreamland:

because after that my Gon was weirdly nice to me and my idiot brain translated this into ‘oh wowww he might actually be in love with me’ which of course he’s NOT because he’s STRAIGHT and HAS A GIRLFRIEND

captain_dreamland:

but there was one point where I seriously thought he was gonna kiss me but of course he didn’t (see: straight, girlfriend) but because I let myself really hope that he might have feelings for me too, now I’ve been reminded that he doesn’t it HURTS it hurts so badly mr. toofargone

captain_dreamland:

to be honest, I deserve the hurt for being fucking stupid, and maybe it’ll encourage me to not get my hopes up in future, but that doesn’t mean I’m not in agony at almost 4am

captain_dreamland:

it’s actually embarrassing how much this is affecting me when I should never have got my hopes up anyway

captain_dreamland:

that’s it. I have to get over him, one way or another. I don’t want to hurt like this again.

captain_dreamland:

sorry. I know you were rooting for us. Trust me, I’m disappointed too. That’s kinda the whole problem.

captain_dreamland:

goodnight, toofargone. Thank you for listening, although I guess you don’t have a choice. Thank you anyway.

Gon hardly knew what to say. It would be incredibly insensitive to reply with a sentiment of ‘haha me too, I almost kissed the man I love and now I’m suffering the consequences of letting myself imagine what it’d be like if we were together,’ but though he knew that was the wrong thing to say, he didn’t know what the right thing was.

When it came down to it, Gon wasn’t good with words. He was good at rousing speeches, but half of the ones he gave were written for him by authors far more talented than himself, and when it came to comfort his mind only threw up blanks.

The only person he really had any idea on how to comfort was Yeong, and even then it could sometimes be hit or miss. Just when Gon thought he’d figured out how his Captain ticked, Yeong would react in a way that Gon found completely unexpected.

Like today, for example. Yeong had always seemed to find Gon’s touch comforting, even more so recently as Gon became more open about being comfortable with it, but today his touch made things worse, instead of better.

Then again, perhaps he should have expected that after all. If he had been on full form, he would have realised there and then that he was the one that had hurt Yeong, so of course Yeong wasn’t going to find any comfort in him.

That couldn’t be allowed to continue. Even if Gon couldn’t pursue a romantic relationship with his Captain, he could at least curate his existing platonic one, and keep giving Yeong the love he deserved.

They were still best friends. They were still soulmates. That hadn’t changed.

He had to talk to Yeong.

Mentally giving captain_dreamland a quick apology, Gon pulled out his phone and texted Yeong instead.

CHAT: You and Unbreakable Sword Yeong-ah

You:

Yeong-ah, can we talk?

You:

We didn’t really get the opportunity earlier, and I need to make sure you’re ok

Unbreakable Sword Yeong-ah:

hi this is seungah u absolutely can talk, im bringing him over right now

Unbreakable Sword Yeong-ah:

pls be gentle with him ur majesty, hes feeling pretty down :(

You:

Wait, you’re bringing him over?

You:

A phone call would have been ok if he’s not up to much

You:

Seungah?

You:

Hello?

There was no reply after that, so Gon just sat and waited, with nothing better to do after he closed the tab holding his conversation with captain_dreamland. Yeong had already suffered enough with bad dates and almost-kisses, he didn’t need another reminder.

After a wait that felt like an age, but was probably closer to ten minutes, he could hear a pair of voices getting louder and louder outside his room.

“Come on, Yeong, this’ll be good for you!”

“But–”

“No buts, Captain Tough Guy. You are letting your friends take care of you whether you like it or not.”

“Seungah, please–”

“I’ve got him, Your Majesty!” Seungah announced as she threw open the door to Gon’s study, pulling a reluctant Yeong inside by the wrist.

And she had asked Gon to be gentle with him. Yeong didn’t look like he was being treated gently at all.

What was promising, though, was that Yeong did seem a little brighter than he had when he had left earlier on. Whereas before he looked as if he was holding onto reality with the very last shred of his willpower, at least now he looked like he had been fed and watered, and shown a bit of care.

Gon supposed he had Seungah to thank for that. Maybe she had been gentle with him, after all.

Even so, despite Seungah’s intervention, Yeong didn’t exactly look great. He was still worlds away from the joyous, carefree man Gon had spent yesterday with. He was even worlds away from the stoic Captain of the Royal Guard. Something about him was just – Gon couldn’t think of another way to describe it other than ‘empty.’ Like he had spent all of his personality, and there was simply nothing left.

Yeong didn’t greet Gon, when he arrived. He just stared at the floor, breaking Gon’s heart more and more with every passing second to see his Unbreakable Sword so, well, broken.

That was Gon’s fault. He had broken his Unbreakable Sword, because he had dared to play around with his feelings and entertain an impossibility.

If Gon thought he had made a mistake before, by letting himself go yesterday, now he knew it for sure.

“Thank you Seungah,” Gon acknowledged, “you’ve been a great help.”

“I’m assuming you want me to leave? Give you two some privacy?”

“You assume correctly,” Gon confirmed, and with that she left, after pausing by the door to give Yeong a wink and a thumbs-up. Yeong scoffed and shook his head at that, gaze lingering by the door instead of turning to the other person in the room.

“Yeong-ah,” Gon gently probed, but he couldn’t finish his sentence before Yeong cut him off, still facing the door.

“If you’re about to apologise, don’t bother. My being upset is my fault, not yours. You did nothing wrong.”

“But you’re upset with me.” With this, Yeong turned around, cocking his head and looking at Gon with eyes that were distinctly more sore than before.

“No, I’m not. Honestly. Please don’t blame yourself.”

“How can I not blame myself, when it was me leaving yesterday that upset you? That is what it is, right? That’s why you’ve been struggling to bring yourself to look at me, why I made you uncomfortable earlier?”

Yeong didn’t say anything, only grimaced in response and looked down at his feet again.

“Yeong-ah,” Gon tried again, “I’m really, really sorry about last night.” He got up from his desk and walked around to where Yeong was standing, though he didn’t make any moves to make contact, fearing that would jeopardise the trust that Gon was trying to rebuild. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, and I really should have given you an explanation, or at least some warning before I took off.”

“I know exactly why you left,” Yeong claimed, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “The day was up. Back to being the King and his Unbreakable Sword. We were being far too close than we ever should have been. I was being far too close, and I overstepped my boundaries. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Yeong-ah, at all. I feel far more uncomfortable now, knowing that I hurt you, than I ever did last night. Honestly, I had to stop myself before I got too comfortable,” Gon laughed, trying his best to ease the tension, but the tension remained, strong as ever.

“It wouldn’t do well for the King to be seen accepting my offer, would it?” Yeong asked, squeezing his hand into a tight fist in what Gon could only assume was an effort to keep composure.

“I wasn’t the King when you offered it.”

“The rest of the Kingdom wouldn’t know that.”

“The rest of the Kingdom wasn’t there.”

“I still shouldn’t have. You were right to refuse.”

“I only left because I made a promise to myself, Yeong-ah, and I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to keep it. If the day had been a few seconds longer, then…” Gon trailed off, hoping Yeong would understand what he was trying to say. Or not. It would probably be easier if he didn’t.

“Don’t say things like that,” Yeong whispered, “please. I think it’d be best if we move on and forget last night ever happened. We were both tired, and not in our right minds. I know I wasn’t.”

“So you didn’t mean it?” Gon blurted, before he could contain himself. If Yeong didn’t mean it, then–

It would be easier. A hell of a lot easier to move on, and abandon any thought of wanting to do it again.

But it would also hurt like hell.

“Gon, please.” Yeong finally looked up, wide eyes laying his soul bare for Gon to see. “Does it matter? We’re not Just Gon and Just Yeong anymore. We have duties. Expectations. It’s not worth wondering who meant what, because it’s something we’ll have to put behind us anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Gon conceded with a sigh, “we’ll be moving on, whatever happened. For what it’s worth, though, I’m still sorry. If I hadn’t put the idea in your head, then–”

“Gon.” Yeong cut him off, suddenly reaching for Gon’s hand. “If anything, we’re both equally to blame. You don’t have anything to make up for.”

“Do I get a hug, then?” Gon asked, smiling down at Yeong’s hand.

“I was actually going to suggest keeping a professional distance.”

“And as the King, I’m going to override that suggestion because it’s bullshit. Soulmates don’t keep a professional distance, Yeong-ah, and even if I’m not Just Gon anymore, he’s taught me a few things that I’d like to carry forward in our relationship.”

“Like what?”

‘Like loving you,’ was what Gon wanted to say.

“Like taking care of you. Doing little things, just to brighten your day. It made me happy, so even as the King I think it’s worthwhile.”

For the first time today, Gon could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile creeping onto Yeong’s lips, despite him obviously trying to suppress it. That made Gon smile too – a wide, uncontrollable smile that made his cheeks hurt, but was so worth it.

“I think just saying that meant I did it again,” Gon noted, and that’s when Yeong gave up his ruse entirely. His cheeks heated into a soft blush as his smile widened, and his eyes began to sparkle with life that previously hadn’t been there.

It was the most beautiful sight in the world. Gon wanted to cause this, make Yeong happy in the way that no one else yet could, for the rest of his life.

God, he loved Yeong. That was the only thing he could think, the only idea that his brain was pumping out as Jo Yeong filled his heart up with warmth no one could give Gon but him.

He was overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

“I hate how weak and mushy and vulnerable you make me,” Yeong complained, despite his grin giving away how he didn’t really hate it at all.

“Vulnerability suits you,” Gon countered, still lost in adoration.

“I thought you liked it when I was tough and manly?” Yeong joked, and oh man he was comfortable enough to make jokes now? It was too much, Gon’s heart was going to burst!

“I like both. I like whatever. You’re always perfect, Yeong-ah.” He paused. “Though you would be even more perfect if you actually gave me that hug. You’re lucky, you can get them from Seungah. I only like hugs from you.”

“Oh, don’t break my heart,” Yeong said as he pulled Gon into his arms, holding on tightly and resting his head on Gon’s shoulder. Gon responded to Yeong’s touch immediately, returning the hug and letting the warmth Yeong gave him spill out and engulf them both. Despite Yeong’s protests earlier, he seemed to enjoy Gon’s embrace once he had it, letting out a contented hum as he settled.

Mission ‘Cheer Yeong Up’ was a success. Thank God. Their friendship hadn’t been ruined beyond repair, after all.

“You know what I like most?” Gon murmured, so quietly he wasn’t quite sure if Yeong had heard him.

“What?”

“When you smile. When you’re happy. I hope that even if we have to be the King and Captain Jo now, you’ll still smile like you did yesterday.”

“I think I will, if I get to stay close to you,” Yeong admitted, sending Gon’s heart on a roller-coaster ride of love and awe. “Will you let me do that?”

“Always. Whenever you want me, I’ll be here. I’ll drop everything for you,” Gon told him, and as he said it, it felt true. Wherever he was, whoever he was with, Yeong would always be most important.

He had lost sight of that, when he first met Taeeul. Brushing Yeong aside was quickly becoming one of his greatest regrets, and it’s something he vowed never to repeat.

“Even when you’re with your wife?” Yeong asked, and suddenly the high Gon was riding on crashed right back down to the ground.

Swept up in the storm of feelings Yeong brought him, Gon had entirely forgotten about his plans for next weekend.

With Yeong here, close to him, wrapped in his arms, proposing to Taeeul felt like a betrayal. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t, that if anything he was betraying Taeeul by not stamping out his feelings for the man he stood with now, but he couldn’t shake the new sense of unease his decision to propose to her now brought him.

“Even when I’m with my wife,” Gon forced himself to say, his voice noticeably flatter than before.

“You don’t sound convinced,” Yeong pointed out, tensing up slightly.

“No, Yeong-ah, it’s not that,” Gon hastily covered for himself, rubbing Yeong’s back to comfort him, “it’s just that I– I have a confession. Or not really a confession, just something I haven’t told you.”

“What is it?” Yeong asked, his voice accented with an optimistic edge of hope. Hope for what, though, Gon wasn’t sure.

He knew what he wanted it to be, and he knew that he would hate it if it actually was that, because then he’d be about to break Yeong’s heart.

“Next time we go to the Republic,” he started, taking a deep breath to steady himself, “I’m going to propose to Taeeul, and I’m really nervous about it, and– Yeong-ah?”

Yeong’s arms had fallen slack around him. His head was still resting on Gon’s shoulder, but all the life that Gon had brought back to him was gone.

No, no, this couldn’t be – Yeong didn’t – he wasn’t – please, God, please don’t let it be that!

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Yeong sighed, sounding flatter than Gon had ever heard him before. “I know how much you love her, and if she loves you even just a fraction of that then I’m sure she’ll say yes, and you’ll make a beautiful King and Queen.”

Gon knew Yeong, and he knew that Yeong didn’t believe a word of what he was saying. Not at all. It was beginning to paint a picture of something that Gon really didn’t want to acknowledge.

“That’s not why I was nervous, Yeong-ah,” Gon confessed, “I was actually worried about how it would affect our relationship. I don’t want you to think you’re any less special to me, just because I’ve made this decision. We’re still soulmates.” I’m still in love with you. “Me marrying Taeeul isn’t going to change that.”

“I know it won’t,” Yeong told him, but he didn’t sound the least bit convinced.

“Are you sure? Because I would understand completely if you had doubts, and if you want to express them I won’t hold it against you.”

“No doubts,” Yeong confirmed, wrapping his arms more tightly – and more protectively – back around Gon. “No doubts at all.”

Gon still didn’t believe him, but he was reluctant to push the matter if Yeong was so dead set on being fine with it. At the end of the day, he couldn’t let Yeong’s feelings affect his decision either.

He still stood by what he told Taeeul, that the future of the country when it came to the King’s marriage was more important than any personal desires. No matter what. No matter whose desires they were.

Sure, he wanted Yeong. And maybe Yeong wanted him too. But those were only two opinions, compared to the rest of Corea’s population of just over seventy-seven million people expecting him to marry a woman.

They were vastly outnumbered, and King Lee Gon had to do what was right for his country, irrespective of whether it was right for himself.

***

There was a spot by the ocean that Jo Yeong had always escaped to when the world became too much. It was a spot that was hard to reach, far away from the tourist trap of the sprawling golden sands, that could only be accessed by climbing up a cluster of rocks that formed a makeshift stairway to the alcove that Yeong now sat in, watching the waves crash against the shore.

He first discovered it when he ran away from his mum’s home on his seventh birthday, when she started yelling at his dad who had come round to give him his present.

It was a knife, that his dad wanted to use to teach him how to defend himself. His mum thought it wasn’t an appropriate present for a seven-year-old. She was probably right, but Yeong didn’t care at the time. He was mostly upset that his parents were ignoring him to fight again, on his birthday.

Apparently his cake that year had ended up thrown in his dad’s face. Yeong wasn’t there to see it, because by that time he had already taken the few thousand won he had in his piggy bank and escaped, running as far as he could away from the fight. Eventually he found himself at the beach, and not wanting to be discovered, he wound up here.

Yeong managed to stay there for a whole day before he was found, cold and hungry, by a pair of low-ranking members of the Royal Guard, the entirety of which Gon had sent out looking for him after he wasn’t at home when his friend came to give Yeong a present of his own.

Gon’s gift was a large, well-illustrated book about different types of birds of paradise, that Yeong had spent week after week poring over, until now he could probably recite the whole thing from memory.

He still had it, tucked away on his bookshelf. Still looked at it from time to time.

Today, Yeong wasn’t escaping his family. He wasn’t even escaping reality, really, he just needed a space where he could be alone, truly alone, without any risk of being found.

The constant crashing of the waves against the rocks was soothing, and loud. It overpowered the chatter of Yeong’s mind, leaving only the thoughts that really mattered.

Gon was going to propose to Taeeul. He and Gon had shared that day of dates together, he had been about to kiss Gon if the clock hadn’t struck twelve, and Gon was going to let him, and now Gon was going to propose to Taeeul as if it had meant nothing at all.

He should be used to this feeling of being kicked in the gut. It was something he experienced often enough, and yet every time it happened he felt the pain anew.

This time, however, the pain felt different. Where usually it was sharp, and burning, this time the pain was more of a dull but constant ache, growing stronger and stronger the longer it lasted.

Gon was going to propose to Taeeul. Gon was going to marry Taeeul. Gon had chosen Taeeul.

Yeong knew this was going to happen, at some point, ever since he brought Taeeul home. The first time he had realised his heart was never going to get what it desired.

Yeong knew this was going to happen, and now that it had… it somehow didn’t feel real. For the past half a year or so, it had been something that Yeong had imagined for the future, slowly torturing himself the more he accepted it as the truth, but that just meant now it still felt imaginary. A hypothetical that would never actually happen, just like all of Yeong’s other thoughts pertaining to Gon, and relationships.

But this hypothetical wasn’t like the others, because now it was real. It was real. Gon was really going to propose to Taeeul. He was really going to propose to the woman from the other world who Yeong had assumed was imaginary from the age of four, all the way up until he brought her home.

He was really going to propose to the woman who had broken Yeong’s heart. He was going to marry her, and spend his life with her, and have children with her, and grow old with her, long after Yeong had left his side.

There was no hope left for himself and Gon.

Gon had committed himself to another.

Yeong was a fool for holding onto the possibility that maybe he wouldn’t.

Seungah said that he needed to show himself compassion, and maybe she was right, but that was difficult when Yeong had done nothing to earn it. His suffering was entirely self-inflicted, so his punishment for hurting himself should be the same.

But Yeong was weak, and he still felt the pain. The ache was growing stronger, and stronger still, and Yeong didn’t know how to stop it. Any attempts he made just made the ache worse.

With no options left, Yeong screamed, letting the crashing waves carry the sound away.

He screamed and he screamed and he screamed, screamed for what felt like an age, screamed until his throat became hoarse, and then screamed some more. He cursed Jeong Taeeul, and he cursed Lee Gon, but most of all he cursed himself for letting his inevitable future hurt this much.

He screamed until the sun set below the waves, turning the waters from clear blue to murky black, letting his pent up frustration escape his body through the only outlet it had left.

Gon was going to propose to Taeeul.

Gon had made his choice.

Gon had killed Yeong’s dream, which Yeong wholeheartedly deserved because it’s a dream he shouldn’t have even had in the first place.

He was stupid. He was foolish. He was unworthy of the love he so desperately craved.

And all he could do was scream.

***

Gon had made a mistake. Of that, he was certain, and his certainty was growing more and more throughout the next week.

The next day, Yeong regretfully informed Gon that he had a sore throat, and because he wasn’t sure if it was caused by anything infectious, and he didn’t want to infect Gon before the weekend, he wanted to take some time apart.

Yeong was lying. Gon didn’t know why or how he knew, but he couldn’t shake the sense that it wasn’t any potential infection that meant he wanted to distance himself.

It was because Gon had asked Yeong to help him as he was putting together his proposal, and Yeong didn’t support the proposal at all, for reasons Gon wasn’t going to think too hard about.

Ha. There he was, lying to himself again, refusing to acknowledge or think twice about some aspect of reality that made him uncomfortable. Even after coming clean to himself about his feelings for Yeong, apparently some habits just couldn’t be broken.

It didn’t matter. It was probably better this way.

Gon had made a mistake, but he wasn’t a quitter. He had made a mistake, but he would much prefer to see it through to the end instead of having to explain his backtracking to the people he’d already let down.

He figured that now he’s – potentially, he wasn’t working with anything other than assumptions – broken Yeong’s heart, it wouldn’t do his best friend any good for Gon to mess him around further.

So Gon let him keep his distance. Nurse his broken heart, if that’s really what he was doing.

And he prepared his proposal alone.

The first order of business was to buy a ring. Back before they’d reset the timeline, he’d made sure to make a note of Taeeul’s ring size for this very purpose, so that when he announced her as his Queen there’d be some evidence to go along with it.

His fiancée-to-be wanted a lavish, fairytale proposal, with all the trimmings, so Gon employed the help of the finest jewellers in the Kingdom to help him pick out the perfect ring. Unfortunately he didn’t have nearly enough time for a ring to be crafted from scratch, as he wasn’t prepared to wait  the six weeks it would take to make it sitting with all his doubts brewing into something tangible, so instead he chose an existing ring, one that was encrusted with tiny diamonds on two whorls that spiralled to hold the larger diamond as the centrepiece. Anyone else might have balked at the price, but he was King Lee Gon. Paying extortionate amounts for finery meant nothing to him.

When that was arranged, he made several business trips to Korea to arrange the setting for their magical evening. The first was to completely book out the Pierre Gagnaire à Séoul restaurant, and arrange for them to prepare a table for the two of them, and decorate the place with aesthetically placed candles and rose petals to create the romantic atmosphere.

Then, he arranged for a selection of the best players from the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra to play for them as they entered and then while they ate, with instructions to pause when Gon brought out the ring.

Finally, he arranged for fireworks to be released outside the restaurant when Taeeul said yes, letting the whole of Seoul know that King Lee Gon had found his Queen, and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

Gon hoped it would be romantic enough for her. It was certainly an improvement on the last time he had tried to propose, anyway.

The last time he was in Korea, Gon texted Taeeul to tell her that he’d be arriving in the evening instead of the afternoon, as the aesthetic he was going for needed to be in the evening, and he didn’t want to spend a day in his evening-wear, completely spoiling the magic of Taeeul getting whisked away on Gon’s romantic adventure. This, however, had the added bonus of giving him the whole day to prepare, physically and mentally.

And so, Gon spent the whole morning of the day of the proposal in his dressing room, casting away outfit after outfit that didn’t make him look like he’d stepped straight out of a Disney movie. Eventually, he landed on a maroon three piece tailed suit, accented with a light pink cravat, pocket square, and a rose affixed to his lapel. He also made sure to comb his hair back off his forehead, and affix it there with hairspray, to finish off the groomed look he was going for.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Gon thought he looked like he might be attending a wedding. Hopefully Taeeul would get the wedding vibes too, and would feel encouraged to say yes when he popped the question.

She would say yes. How could she not say yes, when Gon had learned from his mistakes and given her everything she’d asked?

Well, perhaps because he couldn’t give her the most important thing. Because despite all the trimmings, Gon wasn’t doing any of it out of love, and deep down he knew Taeeul knew that.

She had to say yes, because if she didn’t after Gon had pulled out all the stops he could, then he had no hope left, and his perfect future was as good as dead.

She had to say yes. She was going to say yes. Positive mental attitude, King Lee Gon, give her a flash of that confident smile of yours and you’ll enchant her like you do every girl in Corea.

Gon didn’t feel like smiling. Every time he caught a glimpse of his reflection he was reminded that he was beginning the façade that he’d have to keep up every day for the rest of his life, that he was chaining up his heart for the rest of his life, and the person behind the King Lee Gon title didn’t know if he could keep it up.

Just Gon wanted to dress up like this for Yeong. He wanted to pull out all the stops to make sure Yeong felt loved, and he wanted to make Yeong feel like a fairytale prince.

He had once told Yeong that he needed more fairytales in his life, and now here he was, depriving him of them.

He wanted to make this effort to make sure Yeong felt loved, yet in reality his efforts were having the opposite effect. Gon was chaining himself to someone he didn’t want to marry, for the sake of a country he had never wanted to rule, and in doing so was cementing a distance that he had never wanted to create between himself and the person he loved most of all in the whole multiverse.

Who had he upset in a past life to have Lee Lim for an uncle? If Gon’s father was still alive, then he might have remarried after Gon’s mother passed away, and then he might have had half-siblings that were legitimate heirs to the throne, who then had children that were legitimate heirs to the throne, giving Gon the freedom to renounce his birthright and run away with Yeong, maybe to somewhere in this world, or maybe to another one. Maybe they’d be in a romantic relationship, maybe they wouldn’t, but if he could just live a quiet life with Yeong in one way or another, without the pressure of a country on either of their shoulders, then that would be enough.

But he couldn’t do that. He could never do that. Gon didn’t know whether to laugh at his daydream’s futility, or cry about the future he could never have.

It was a childish thought, but in that moment Gon really wanted his father back, though whether it was for comfort or for relief from his duties, he wasn’t sure. Everything was so much easier when he was Crown Prince Lee Gon, and he had his father by his side to guide him and help him make the right decisions.

Gon wondered if his father would be proud of him for putting his feelings aside for the sake of his country, or whether, like Lady Noh, he’d be disappointed that Gon was setting himself up for misery.

No. He was going to be happy. He’d find a way, when he got settled into married life. He’d get used to it, as one had to when faced with a bad situation.

Now, though, after picking at his lunch, he had an afternoon to kill, and he wasn’t going to spend it alone with his thoughts. That was practically suicide.

Instead, he pulled up his abandoned chat with captain_dreamland again, figuring he could at least get this off his guilty conscience before throwing his life away

CHAT: You and captain_dreamland

You:

Hi, sorry for not getting back to you sooner, this week I’ve hardly had time to let myself think, but to be honest I think was also getting in my head a bit about what to say to you

You:

First of all, I want to send a huge virtual hug over your way. Thinking that you have a future with someone, and then realising that you’d got it all wrong – that sounds like hell and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but especially not on you. You’ve already been through far too much heartache about this man, and for your sake I sincerely hope he doesn’t give you any more.

You:

And, well, if you’re serious about giving up on him then I wish you the best of luck. I’m just realising for myself how hard it is to let go of feelings once you have them, even when the relationship isn’t possible, so on my next birthday when I blow out my candles I’ll be wishing for either you to get over him and find someone else you really like, or for him to come out and tell you that he’s always had feelings for you, and that he wants to run off with you into the sunset.

You:

Sorry, that last part probably isn’t helping the ‘getting over him’ thing

You:

Truthfully, I have nothing to offer but condolences and wishes of good luck. You may be the “crown prince of stupid,” as you put it, but I am most certainly the king of bad relationship decisions.

You:

I hope your nights have been more restful since you contacted me, at least. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.

A part of Gon wanted to start unloading his own problems, but he couldn’t do that to his internet friend. Not when he was already going through enough.

So now Gon had the rest of the afternoon to deal with the fact that he was willingly hurting himself and Yeong, and Taeeul since he couldn’t be the husband she deserved, and probably Shinjae too, whom he had hardly stopped to consider before but who would also be hurt by Gon marrying Taeeul, as that meant he too would be barred from being with the person he loved.

Though Shinjae wouldn’t be able to offer Taeeul the riches and luxury Gon could, he could, and would, offer her love. It seemed a shame to deprive both Taeeul and Shinjae of that.

But they were only two more people who would be negatively affected by Gon’s decision. He had to remember that his entire country would be better off with what he had chosen.

He had to remember that, even when the immediate effects around him appeared to be nothing but bad. He had to remember that.

He had to remember that… but his country wouldn’t know the difference for a few more hours.

Gon had a few more hours of freedom. And he knew exactly who he wanted to spend them with.

“Yeong-ah!” Gon called, frantically, desperately knocking on Yeong’s door, “Can I come in please, Yeong-ah? If you’re ashamed about your place in any way I promise I won’t judge, I just want to spend some time with you!”

Yeong opened the door a crack, looking up at Gon with one dark, wide eye.

“You can’t come in,” he stated, voice cold and matter-of-fact, “but I’ll come out in a minute. Will that be ok?”

“That’s fine,” Gon conceded, “I just want to see you.”

After letting out a short hum of acknowledgement, Yeong shut the door, making Gon wait an impatient couple of minutes before he emerged again, and quickly exited the apartment and locked the door behind him.

“Did you miss me?” he joked, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a half-smile.

Just Yeong acting lighthearted was enough to suddenly make Gon want to cry. Gon was dressed up in his proposal outfit, was about to give himself away to Taeeul and hurt Yeong in the process, and Yeong was making an effort to joke around?

Yeong didn’t deserve this. Yeong didn’t deserve any of this. Gon had half a mind to turn and go back to the palace there and then; he could hardly face the person who he was letting down the most trying to be his friend.

He didn’t, though. He needed Yeong’s presence far too much for that.

“I did,” Gon confirmed, offering what he hoped was a genuine smile, “I missed you a lot, Yeong-ah. Whoever gave you that sore throat should be beheaded.”

His friend chuckled nervously, dropping his gaze. “I wouldn’t be that harsh. They didn’t mean any harm, I’m sure.”

“I suppose not.” If Gon was right, and Yeong’s ‘sore throat’ was actually Gon’s proposal, then Gon wasn’t sure the culprit could say he didn’t mean any harm. He had considered the costs and benefits, sure, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t knowingly accepting the costs.

Yeong was being so optimistic while Gon was actively hurting him. It didn’t seem fair at all.

“You look nice,” Yeong noted, sensing the awkward pause and changing the subject, “like some kind of Disney prince – or Disney king, I suppose. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so stereotypically royal.”

“That’s what I was going for,” Gon told him, dipping his head and shoulders and holding out his arm slightly in a mock bow. “Taeeul wanted the lavish, royal treatment, so that’s what I’m going to give her.”

“Lucky her,” Yeong sighed, looking almost wistful as he let himself take in Gon’s appearance. “She’s about to live so many people in this world’s dream.”

“I bet Koo Soryeong is jealous,” Gon smiled, trying to push away the thought that told him that Yeong was jealous too.

“Oh, she’ll be fuming,” Yeong agreed, shaking off his wistful look in a second to join in with the mirth. “I hope Hopil is ready to guard you from her wrath. Or I might be – I’m going for a check-up next week so who knows, I might get the all-clear to go back to work.”

“Have you missed it?” Gon asked, though he was pretty sure he knew that the answer was going to be yes. If you looked up ‘workaholic’ in the dictionary, you’d find a description of Jo Yeong written there.

“Of course I have,” Yeong confirmed, “staying at home and resting for so long has been torture. I think I’ve watched all of Netflix, and that’s incredibly sad.”

“You want to go for a walk then?” Gon offered, holding out his arm for Yeong to take, “Get away from your torture chamber?”

“Gladly,” Yeong accepted his offer, looping his arm through Gon’s like they had done last weekend. They set off, Gon planning to take Yeong through the palace’s many picturesque gardens, and trying not to think about how he could spend many an afternoon like this with Yeong if it was him he was planning to propose to, and not Taeeul.

“You know what I’ve missed most though, about not working?” Yeong continued, just after they’d set off.

“What?”

“Not spending all my time with you. It’s odd, not always having you by my side. Sometimes when I get too lost in my thoughts I panic when I realise you’re not with me, before I realise I’m not on duty and Hopil’s got you covered.”

“This from the man who’s been avoiding me this past week,” Gon scoffed, turning to raise his eyebrows at Yeong.

“I told you,” he groaned, “I had a sore throat, and I just wanted to protect you. I sent you a voice message to show you how bad it was and everything.”

Despite Gon’s doubts about his excuse, that much was true. And it did sound bad. But that didn’t rule out the possibility of him faking it.

Or Yeong was telling the truth, and he didn’t care that Gon was proposing to Taeeul, and he was happy for him because they were friends and nothing more!

He really should be trying to work on the assumption that Yeong didn’t have feelings for him. Over the past week, he seriously hadn’t been trying hard enough.

“Ok, fine,” Gon surrendered, “I know, I’m sorry. I guess I’ve just missed having you around too. Hopil is a great guard but he is not nearly as entertaining as you are.”

“Entertaining? In what way is me doing my job entertaining? Hopil and I perform our duty in much the same way.”

“Well, first of all I can actually have a conversation with you. Hopil either ignores me, or stiffly says ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’” – which Gon said in an imitation of Hopil’s voice, earning a laugh from Yeong – “whereas you’ll actually join in most of the time, even when we’re in public and you can only reply with frankly hilarious facial expressions. It takes all my willpower not to laugh out loud.”

“You fail at that sometimes,” Yeong pointed out, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes, “don’t think I don’t notice you snickering.”

“How can I help it, when you’re so obviously judging all the stuffy politicians I have to talk to? At that point I’m usually so painfully bored that I’ll find anything entertaining.”

“King Lee Gon!” Yeong exclaimed, in mock horror, “Are you telling me you don’t enjoy engaging with the people in your esteemed government? Those good, upstanding citizens, that are only trying to do their best to aid you in leading the country?”

“Good, upstanding citizens?” Gon laughed, “If you can find any of those in the Corean government, I’d love to be introduced to them. I feel like I’ve been battling against them my whole life, instead of working with them, and when you’re new to running a country at eight years old, you swiftly learn that people will try to take advantage of weakness with no hesitation to claim a little more power. I was offered a lot of money and unsolicited advice in my first few years on the throne.”

“Did you take any?”

“Lady Noh told me not to, and I just listened to her. She told me to ignore them, and do what I thought was right, though I’m not sure I really knew what that was until I was a little older.”

“I’ve always thought it was irresponsible, making you the King right away,” Yeong admitted, tugging slightly on Gon’s arm so he held him a little closer. “Sorry, I hope it isn’t treason to say this, but I really think someone needed to say it. Who in their right mind expected a grieving eight-year-old to start running the country? Surely Prince Buyeong could have stepped in as Regent, at least until you were an adult, or even just until you felt you were ready. It just seems unfair.”

“If I didn’t become King until I was ready, I don’t think I ever would have taken the title,” Gon said, grateful for Yeong’s presence by his side to keep him grounded. “Lee Lim always said I didn’t act like the Crown Prince, and as much as I hate to agree with anything he said, he was right. Being given the title… it forced me to grow up, and accept my place.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to grow up!” Yeong protested, stopping and turning to face Gon, “You were still a child, and you should have been given the rest of your childhood!”

“Yeong-ah,” Gon soothed, actively not thinking too hard about what Yeong was saying because he knew if he did he’d probably agree, “it’s not like it was all bad. If I wasn’t made the King, then I probably never would have become such close friends with you. You might never have joined the Royal Guard, let alone become the Captain. Even if I would have had less to deal with, I wouldn’t have had my soulmate with me, and I know which life I’d prefer.”

“The one with less emotional baggage?” Yeong offered, apparently missing Gon’s point completely.

“The one with you in it.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Yeong sighed, biting his lip.

“Afraid?” Gon queried, already dreading Yeong’s explanation.

“You’re going to make me miss… this,” Yeong confessed, looking down at the gravel path beneath their feet. “Just the two of us. I already guessed when you came and knocked on my door – this is like our last hurrah, isn’t it? Our last few hours together before there’s someone else for you to spend all your time with.”

Naïvely, Gon glanced at Yeong, but he only had to look at Yeong’s quivering bottom lip for a split-second before he couldn’t take the guilt anymore, and he fixed his gaze straight ahead, trying not to let the salty tears that were stinging his eyes fall.

If only he could tell Yeong just how much he wished he was wrong. If only he could tell Yeong how he knew he was making a mistake, but he was going along with it anyway because his people would accept nothing else.

If only he could tell Yeong how much he loved him, and how much he wanted it to be just the two of them for the rest of his life.

“You got me,” was all Gon said in response, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender and hoping Yeong couldn’t hear the tremor in his voice. “I wanted to make the most of my last few hours with my soulmate, before I change my life forever.”

“Are you nervous?” Yeong asked, tentatively reaching for Gon’s hand and gently holding it, caressing the back of it with his thumb.

“Terrified,” Gon admitted with a laugh, to stop himself from crying instead.

“You needn’t be,” Yeong told him, putting on a brave smile that Gon admired to no end. “I have no doubt that she’ll say yes. It’s obvious how much you both care about each other, and though I haven’t seen it I know you will have planned this proposal to be spectacular. Who could say no to that?”

Anyone, if they knew that his motivation was convenience, instead of love. Which Taeeul suspected.

Not that that was the reason Gon was having doubts, but since he was never going to be in a position to explain himself truthfully, he went along with this explanation anyway.

“She still might not say yes,” Gon explained, “and if she doesn’t now, then she never will. I’ve pulled out all the stops, thrown a good amount of money at this, so if she doesn’t say yes after my efforts then I don’t know what else I can do to convince her. And if I can’t convince her to be Queen, then…” Gon trailed off, not wanting to think about what would happen if she didn’t stick to his carefully thought-out life plan.

“She will say yes,” Yeong insisted, taking a deep breath and looking Gon in the eyes. “You don’t need to worry about not finding your Queen, because anyone would be an idiot not to say yes to marrying you. You’re amazing; you’re funny, you’re caring, you’re so passionate about everything and everyone you love, you’re smart, you’re strong, and when you let down your king façade then you’re probably the most genuine person I know, and I suppose it goes without saying but on top of all that you’re insanely handsome too. Taeeul is a smart girl, I have every faith she’ll see that you’re the very best the multiverse has to offer.”

It took everything in Gon not to get down on one knee there and then. Maybe that would get rid of the tinge of sadness that was tainting Yeong’s voice as he smiled, and as he stood there and rattled off compliments, some more true than others.

Considering he was about to hurt himself and his friends cementing a relationship built on lies, he couldn’t agree with caring, and he couldn’t agree with genuine.

Trust Yeong to see the best in him anyway. Maybe it was good he was about to offer his life to Taeeul, because he didn’t deserve Jo Yeong at all.

“Would you say yes, if you were Taeeul?” Gon mumbled, unsure whether knowing the answer would make him feel better or worse.

“Without a shadow of a doubt,” Yeong answered, somehow still managing to smile while Gon decided that the answer definitely made him feel worse.

It should have been Yeong. If Gon had been born anyone else, it would have been Yeong. If Gon had siblings or cousins to carry on the line, it would have been Yeong.

Then he would have been nervous for the right reasons. Then he would have been excited at the prospect of promising to spend the rest of his life with someone, instead of dreading it with every fibre of his being.

This was what he had always wanted, Gon tried to tell himself. When he was eight years old, he had set his sights on finding Taeeul. When he was fifteen, he had decided he wanted to marry her.

He was about to properly start realising his dream. He would get that perfect future that he had envisioned for himself for so long.

Except it wouldn’t be perfect, because Gon wasn’t in love with her. Would never be in love with her.

And would spend the rest of his life guiltily nursing secret feelings for the guard that stood by his side.

Even when he was married, even when he had children, that wouldn’t change.

Gon knew what it looked like, when parents didn’t love each other. His best friend’s family had shown him enough of that.

Would he and Taeeul spend their lives fighting, as it became clear to her how much his heart wasn’t in it? As it was becoming that way already? Would they scare the future princes and princesses into running away from home, time and time again, because anywhere else was better than the place they were stuck in?

Would Gon be subjecting Yeong to watching that, if he married Taeeul?

He couldn’t let that happen. Not to his future children, and not to Yeong. He was going to pretend to be in love with Taeeul – he knew how to do that, had spent far too long already doing it – and they were going to be happy together, and their children were going to be happy, and no one was going to suspect a thing.

If he was going through with this, then he had to do it well. No more room for error. King Lee Gon was going to have the perfect life, the perfect children, and the perfect wife. He was going to be the perfect husband, the perfect father, and the perfect king.

For all intents and purposes, Gon was straight. That’s what he had always told himself, and that wasn’t going to change.

He couldn’t love Yeong. No matter how much he wanted to.

Taeeul seemed nervous, when Gon greeted her. She took one look at him and balked, taking a couple of steps back to where Shinjae was standing, resting a little against his arm and his chest.

Perhaps the outfit was a bit much. He hadn’t given away many details about tonight, so it wasn’t a shock to Gon that she was surprised to see the getup.

He’d hoped it would have been a nice surprise, however. Seeing her boyfriend making an effort after he had dramatically let her down last weekend.

Then again, maybe she was still upset with him. That would be understandable. It’s not like any of her claims were totally baseless, so she had every right to be hurt.

But she wouldn’t be, later. Gon had to keep telling himself that. He was going to give her everything she wanted, he was going to make it better, he was going to provide his country with a stable future, and this was the best thing for everyone involved in the long run.

His path had crossed with Jeong Taeeul’s for a reason, and this was the reason. This was his purpose.

Gon avoided any contact with Yeong. Hardly acknowledged him as he walked past Taeeul into the flat, whispering something in Shinjae’s ear and making his eyes flick open wide.

Shinjae looked like someone had just told him his mother had died, after he registered what Yeong had said.

It must have been Gon’s proposal plans, then. Gon’s plan that would take away the woman he loved forever.

Seventy-seven million people, Lee Gon. That was who you were doing this for. Seventy-seven million people were counting on you to make this decision, regardless of whether it broke a few hearts.

Gon offered his hand, and Taeeul took it, her movement as shaky and hesitant as Gon was feeling. Maybe it was because he was already stressed, but the moment her hand touched his own Gon felt sick, like he was going to throw up what little food he had eaten that day right on top of his soon-to-be fiancée.

It was a good job he hadn’t eaten much. He was not going to fall at the final hurdle.

“What’s all this about?” Taeeul whispered as the door closed, eyes darting about as if she was looking for danger. Was there a dangerous criminal about? Is that why she seemed nervous?

“I’ve spent the whole week planning a special treat for my lovely girlfriend,” Gon told her with a wink, trying to sell the act to himself as well as to her. “If you’re talking about my outfit, then that’s because I needed to look the part.”

“You… you’ve been planning something? A special treat?” she repeated, sounding out the words with an unmistakable note of dread to her voice.

“Is there a problem with that?” Gon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I – it doesn’t matter. Let’s see the treat, then,” she said, forcing the corners of her mouth up into a smile.

That was probably the most positive response he was going to get, before she saw what he had prepared. It would blow her away. It had to.

Gon took her to the car he had rented that was sitting at the bottom of the drive – a brand new Ferrari SF90 Stradale, something that he had been able to persuade Yeong to help him pick out. He figured the brand name recognition would be a bonus, and in Gon’s opinion it looked nicer than a lot of the other supercars that Yeong had picked out as being the best of the best new ones.

Also it was a plug-in hybrid, so he was helping the environment! That was a plus!

Taeeul, however, didn’t seem the least bit impressed. She kept on giving nervous glances back home, to where Shinjae was standing in view of the window, wrapped up in Yeong’s arms.

No guilt, Lee Gon. This was for the best, it really, really was.

They got in the car, and were silent all the way to the restaurant. Gon kept sneaking glances at Taeeul, but her mood wasn’t showing any signs of improving. She kept running her fingers through the ends of her hair, absentmindedly twisting the ends while looking directly forward, not making any effort to interact with Gon at all.

If there really was a criminal on the loose, then maybe Gon should let her get back to her job and deal with it, to give her some peace of mind.

But then again, she wasn’t on duty at the weekends, she had made sure of that as soon as the timeline reset. If someone dangerous was running around Seoul, there would be plenty of other officers ready to apprehend them. Taeeul would be alright. He would make her night magical, one way or another.

“This is your surprise?” Taeeul asked when they arrived at the restaurant, her mouth hanging open slightly as she took in the finery. “You booked us a table at this fancy French restaurant… for me?”

“Almost,” Gon teased, while he led her through the doors, “but would that really be an evening fit for a queen?”

As soon as the door opened, the musicians started playing a soft melody – loud enough to hear, but not too loud that it overpowered their conversation, just like Gon had asked for. Taeeul paused at the door, slowly taking in the luxurious room, lit by warm candlelight, with the path to their table in the middle of the room marked out by deep red rose petals.

Gon surveyed his work with pride, before looking at Taeeul, expecting a wide grin to be spreading across her face as she absorbed it, but instead she just looked… scared. As terrified as Gon was desperately trying not to feel.

This wasn’t how it was meant to go. She was meant to be jumping into his arms right about now, showering him in kisses to say thank you for his wonderful treat.

Had he done something wrong? Did she dislike French cuisine? Not a fan of the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra? Allergic to roses? Concerned about a potential fire hazard?

No. He could salvage this. He had to salvage this.

Gon reached inside his pocket for the box that held the ring. He had planned to propose later on, just after they had finished their meal, but it was the only thing he could think of that might just lighten Taeeul’s mood.

“Do you like it?” Gon asked, not pausing to wait for an answer. “It’s all for you. I know that I haven’t necessarily been the perfect boyfriend recently, and I know that when you entered a relationship with me, you were expecting the royal treatment, and I haven’t exactly been giving you that, so I thought that, to make up for it, I could create an evening that was truly special.”

“This is… too much,” she breathed, still looking at the room, paying very little attention to Gon.

“Not for you it isn’t,” Gon rebutted, taking her hand. She turned around to face him at that, glancing nervously down at the new point of contact before finally looking up at her boyfriend. “You mean a lot to me, Jeong Taeeul. I have waited practically my whole life to find you, and now that I’ve done that I never want to let you go again. I want to spend my future with you, rule my country with you, have a family with you, and grow old with you.

“That’s why–” Gon took a deep breath, and got down on one knee, pulling the box out from his pocket and opening it to show her the ring “–I’d like you to be my Queen, if you’ll have me. Jeong Taeeul, will you marry me?”

The musicians stopped playing, and the new silence was deafening. The only sound Gon could hear was the thundering of his heart, threatening to give away how unsure he was about this whole ordeal with how fast it was racing.

Or because he was nervous because he was excited, was what he told himself, because he was excited to marry Taeeul. He was. He would be, for her and for Corea.

Taeeul’s eyes shot open wide, and she raised a trembling hand to her mouth as she looked around the room, presumably looking for cameras, or confederates.

Of course, there were none. Gon had decided that it would make a bigger impact if he did all this himself, making the moment even more special than it already was.

“Gon…” she whispered, looking down at him, but she seemed hesitant to say what she was going to say next.

“Is that a yes?” he encouraged, smiling up at her with all the courage he could muster.

“Gon,” she repeated, looking around the room once more before leaning down, and–

And shutting the lid of the box.

And ruining Gon’s future in one small sentence.

“I want to break up.”

Chapter Text

“I want to break up.”

The words pierced through Gon’s ears to reach his heart, where they sat amplifying the following silence a hundredfold.

There was an awkward sense of apology in the way Taeeul looked down at him, but Gon didn’t care whether she was sorry or not. That wasn’t the point at all.

“I want to break up.”

She couldn’t do that. That was never in Gon’s plan. He had finally found Taeeul, had travelled across universes to find her, and from that moment his future was set in stone.

He was going to be with Taeeul. He was going to marry Taeeul. He was going to make Taeeul the Queen of Corea, and he was going to have children with Taeeul; legitimate heirs to the throne.

Breaking up had never been an option. He had already planned their whole lives out, had willingly sacrificed his happiness for his perfect life plan.

“Are you alright?” she asked, Gon’s silence evidently making her uncomfortable.

“Why?” was all Gon could say, and even then it only barely came out as a whisper. He was frozen still – his arm still held out with the closed box in his hand – save for a tremor engulfing his entire body that tricked his senses into thinking he was freezing cold. The room was warm, the temperature outside was fairly warm too, so Gon knew it was just himself.

Truthfully, he’d be surprised if his heart hadn’t stopped. His future was ruined anyway, so it wouldn’t have been a great loss for his body to have decided to give up the ghost, there and then.

“Oh, Gon,” Taeeul sighed, dropping down to his level and reaching out an arm to put round him, which Gon batted away. If they weren’t going to be together anymore, then he had no need to keep putting up with her touching him.

At least that was one good thing, but it didn’t feel like anything much.

She retracted her arm, getting the message, and just sat across from him instead, looking up to the ceiling as she gathered her thoughts into something comprehensible.

“I… I’ve been doing some thinking, this past week,” she started, taking a deep, shaky breath as she confronted Gon, who had finally collapsed into a sitting position of his own, “thinking about why I was still in this relationship. I don’t know what it is, whether it’s you or whether it’s me, but something’s been off ever since the timeline was reset. We got on so well before then, when we had the common goal of taking down your uncle, but I guess now we don’t have that… we’ve had time to slow down. We’re moving onto other things, and our lives are moving in different directions.”

“Do they have to?” Gon asked, his expression pleading, but Taeeul didn’t yield.

“I think they do. We both want different things – you want a queen, somebody you can take home and settle down with, but I don’t want to settle down just yet, or maybe ever. I want to stay here, in the Republic, solving cases and living a relatively simple life surrounded by my closest friends. I don’t want cameras in my face, the press picking apart my every move, and maybe it’s selfish of me to say this because I know you never had a choice, but I don’t want the royal treatment. Not really. I want to find someone who will treat me like I’m the most important person on the planet, sure, but I don’t want your life. It sounds like my idea of hell.”

“But I can get rid of all that for you,” Gon pleaded, “I’m the King, I can get you whatever type of life you want.”

“I won’t be able to stay here though!” Taeeul protested, becoming more sure in her argument. “Gon, please don’t try to argue with me, because I’ve already made up my mind. I want to stay here, and I want to see other people, people who don’t have to put their country before all else. With you, I just – all I want is for my boyfriend to love me, and with you I just can’t be sure of that. And I know that’s not your fault, I know you have to do what’s right, and that’s admirable, really, but it’s not what I want in a relationship. It’ll put a strain on me, it is putting a strain on me, not being able to trust that you love me for me.”

“I do love you though, Taeeul.” Gon’s voice was quivering, but he tried to keep himself firm since he was, at least, telling the truth. “I’ve loved you since I was eight years old, ever since I got your ID card. I wanted to be with you pretty much ever since I started to know what romantic feelings were.”

“Did you love me?” she countered, biting her lip to steady herself before she continued, “Or did you love the idea of me that you’d created in your head when you saw my picture? How can you have loved me since you were eight years old when we only met last year? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Are you expecting me to quantify my love?” Gon asked, tears of frustration springing to his eyes. “Love is a feeling, and all I know is I felt it. It’s always been you, Taeeul, I’ve never wanted anyone else to be my wife but you. I’ve turned down countless women over my life, because I knew I was looking for you.”

“You turned down other women for me, even before you knew me?” Taeeul clarified, and Gon nodded, hoping his act of devotion would help her change her mind. “Lee Gon, I say this with the highest amount of love and respect for you, but get a life! Go out into the world! Date women! Date men, if that’s what you want! Give yourself the opportunity to find out what it is you do want, don’t just hold onto me because you found my ID card as a kid. How do you know I’m the right person if you’ve never considered anyone else?”

“I have considered other people,” Gon refuted, “but it still has to be you! Please, Taeeul, give me another chance. I can do better, I can be better, I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted–”

“No, Gon. You can’t, because I don’t want you, plain and simple. Maybe you can get me what you think I want, but I know in my heart you’re not the one for me.”

“Then why did the universes bring us together? Why was fate so certain we had to be in each other’s lives?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Maybe to deal with your uncle. Maybe to bring each other a brief spell of happiness. Maybe to realise that what we thought we wanted in a relationship actually wasn’t what we wanted at all.”

“So now what?” Gon looked down at the floor, with no energy left to raise his head.

He had expended it all arguing for a cause he didn’t believe in, so it didn’t surprise him that he hadn’t ended up winning.

“I don’t know that either,” Taeeul confessed with a sigh, “I think it might be best for us to take some time apart, but aside from that…” she trailed off, with nothing else to say.

Time apart. That was something Gon had experienced an abundance of. Everyone he was close to, everyone he wanted to spend his future with, kept requesting time apart.

Gon kept hurting people. He had hurt Taeeul, well and truly, so much that she was leaving him alone. He had hurt Yeong, so the past week he too had been leaving Gon alone.

Was that just his destiny? To eventually be left with no one that loved him at all?

He was superficially loved by millions, but he would still end up alone.

He was cared for with the highest sense of reverence, but that wasn’t real care. Wasn’t real love. That was duty, and nothing more.

He would end up alone. He might find another wife, but he wouldn’t love her, and if she was a power-hungry gold-digger from his Kingdom then he doubted she’d love him either. Not the real him.

Taeeul didn’t care that he was the King. She loved him for real, not because of his status, and not because she had to. And now she was gone.

He would end up alone, and unloved, and that truth was too much to bear as his world was already crashing down around him. In losing Taeeul, Lee Gon had let his country down, and he would never find another woman as good a fit for him as her, and she wanted to be apart from him, and he had hurt Yeong, and could never be with Yeong, and it was just too much.

Gon hated showing weakness in front of others, had some kind of mental block that usually didn’t let him cry while others were watching, but as he sat in front of Taeeul he couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

His life was as good as over. Somehow, he would be expected to build himself back up from scratch, to pretend he was fine, and eventually find another woman he could pretend to love, but he was sick and tired of pretending, and he wanted it all to stop.

King Lee Gon had been pretending for twenty-six years, and he couldn’t do it anymore. Had no more pretending left in him.

“Gon?” Taeeul probed, “Are you ok? I’m sorry, I know this must be a lot to take in when you were expecting to be engaged by now, and when I said we should spend some time apart I only really meant a week or so to get used to not being together, I didn’t mean forever. I still want to be your friend. We still make a good team, the only difference is that I don’t want to force us into the roles of boyfriend and girlfriend, that’s all.”

And somehow, that was worse. She wanted to stay close, but not close enough that Gon could secure his country’s future? Not close enough that he wouldn’t have to find someone else to lie to?

At least if she hated him, he could write off their connection completely. Now he knew that if things had been different, he might have succeeded, and he was right to have hoped.

“Ok,” Gon conceded, his voice warped almost beyond recognition, “that’s fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll do that. No problem. No problem at all.”

“You’re lying,” she pointed out, though she sounded sympathetic rather than accusatory.

“I am,” he confirmed, “I’m letting down about seventy-seven million people right now, but I’ll fix it. This has to go both ways, and if you don’t want to be more than friends I can’t force you. I’ll just start again. Find another queen. For the Kingdom. Even if it’s hard.”

That’s the only thing he could do. He couldn’t run away from his duty, no matter how much he wanted to, and so he’d manage to get through it. At this point his reign was basically characterised by him sucking up his emotions and dealing with difficult situations. Maybe by now he might almost be good at it.

“Thank you,” Taeeul breathed a sigh of relief, “thank you for letting me get this off my chest, and for letting me go when I know it’s not in your best interests. You’re a really great guy, and whoever you do end up with is going to be very lucky to be on the receiving end of your love.”

“Do you really have to say such nice things as you’re breaking up with me?” Gon asked, struggling to accept what Taeeul was saying.

How could he, when whichever poor woman he ended up with wasn’t going to be on the receiving end of his love at all?

“I still care about you, dumbass,” she offered a smile, “and I really don’t like seeing you this upset. I’d offer you a hug, but–”

“Please don’t. That would make it worse.”

“Exactly. That’s what Yeong told me, and I’ll be the first to admit he knows you a lot better than I do.”

“I don’t deserve him,” was all Gon could muster in terms of a response before he started sobbing uncontrollably again.

He had hurt Yeong… for nothing. If Gon had known that Taeeul was going to dump him, he never would have bothered to propose, and Yeong wouldn’t have had to spend the past week thinking that Gon was about to push him away.

Yeong had assured Gon that the proposal would go well, even when it was in his best interests for it not to.

Yeong had so much faith in him, listing reasons why he believed no one could possibly say no.

Yeong had told Gon that if it was him that Gon was proposing to, he would have said yes. Without a shadow of a doubt.

But it could never be Yeong. And now Gon was going to have to find another wife, and hurt him all over again.

He should leave Gon alone. He had every reason to.

And yet he didn’t. Jo Yeong stayed by his side, because–

Gon couldn’t think it. If he let himself think it, then he would never, ever stop feeling like the most awful person in the whole multiverse.

“You do,” Taeeul told him, spreading lies like she was King Lee Gon, or something, “it’s obvious how much you love him. Your future wife will be lucky to experience that love too.”

But that was the wrong thing to say, because Gon would never love her like he loved Yeong. Would never love anyone like he loved Yeong.

He should never have admitted his feelings to himself, because now he knew that, he knew that his future would always be breaking hearts – very important hearts, that he wanted to hold close and protect instead.

Small children looked up to royalty. They wanted to be the princes and princesses they saw in Disney movies, without realising that the reality was not that pretty.

The movies only showed the glamorous balls and dresses and tiaras, without the responsibility that came with the finery. These princes’ kisses brought princesses back to life, and helped young girls go from rags to riches, and their most unorthodox relationships were with mermaids that lived with them on land by the end of the film anyway, passing as human with little issue.

All of these princes fell in love with their princesses. As it should be. As their kingdoms need, for them to carry on the line.

There was a reason that not one of them fell in love with the captain of their royal guard.

Gon could not win. There was no future for him that wasn’t in some way a compromise, and that didn’t hurt both himself and his best friend. His soulmate. His love.

While Taeeul watched, helpless, all he could do was cry. Cry about the crumbling of his future, and about the futility of his feelings, and about how, no matter what, he would always hurt the one he loved.

This was why kings couldn’t have feelings. They caused everyone involved far too much pain and heartache.

Gon wished he didn’t have to be King anymore. But he couldn’t do that. He had to rid himself of his feelings instead.

Eventually. Somehow.

Taeeul took the bus back home, leaving Gon in his expensive sports car, all alone. As he would be, now, for the rest of his sad, sad life.

It didn’t surprise Gon that he arrived back at her place before her. Her journey involved a multitude of pointless stops, whereas he could go back immediately in a car build for speed.

She had probably done that on purpose, so Gon could clear out before she got back. Smart girl. She really would have made an excellent queen.

But no. When Gon arrived back at Taeeul’s place, he had to make the walk of shame up to her door all by himself. He knocked twice, and then let his hand fall, having very little remaining energy to keep it up there.

Shinjae opened it. His eyes were as red as Gon’s.

At least he was going to benefit from all this, Gon realised. Shinjae could still give Taeeul the love she desired. They could make each other happy.

“You’re in luck,” Gon told him, with an apathetic chuckle, “she broke up with me.”

“She–” Shinjae started, bringing his hand to his mouth in shock “–Oh my God.”

Gon heard a sharp gasp from further inside the room as Shinjae reacted, followed by a series of loudening and quickening footsteps before Yeong appeared in the doorway too, looking just as emotionally wrecked as his friends did. He wasted no time in barging past Shinjae and wrapping Gon up into his arms, one of his hands gently cradling the back of Gon’s head, and threatening to make Gon cry once again.

“I’m so sorry,” Yeong whispered, as he rubbed Gon’s back, “I know how much you loved her. I’m so, so sorry.”

And that was it, and Gon was in tears once more, because Yeong still thought he loved her.

Jo Yeong, who had spent the past week hurting because he thought Gon was going to abandon him for Taeeul, still thought he loved her. And was comforting Gon anyway.

Gon did not deserve him. He had done nothing to elicit Yeong’s love, but he was receiving it anyway. For some reason.

Was that Yeong’s sense of duty shining through, taking on his role as the Unbreakable Sword, servant to the King?

No, surely not. Surely he could at least trust that Jo Yeong was Gon’s friend because he wanted to be, and not because he felt like he had to. They became friends before Yeong started worrying about duty and etiquette, so some of that must have carried forward into the present day.

Gon was not going to give himself one more thing to worry about. Not right now. Not when he already had more than enough to be dealing with.

“Don’t be sorry, Yeong-ah,” he whispered, as soon as he had regained enough composure to be able to talk, “really I should be sorry. I know the past week has been hard on you.”

“What? My pesky sore throat?” Yeong laughed, trying his best to lighten the mood, “In what way was that your fault?”

That got a laugh out of Gon too, because there was no way Yeong had misunderstood what he meant. Yeong wasn’t stupid, he must have known that Gon knew he wasn’t happy about the proposal, and yet here he was, feigning ignorance, just to keep Gon happy.

And the worst thing was, it was working. As it always did. Because Yeong’s comforting effects were just that powerful.

It was incredible, really, just how much Gon loved him. Though Gon knew exactly why he had never admitted that he was in love with Yeong to himself before last weekend, it still seemed odd to him that it was such a new development. He felt like he had been in love with Yeong all his life.

“You’re too good to me,” Gon murmured, earning a knowing sigh from his friend as he buried his tear-stained face in the crook of Yeong’s neck.

“I’m not,” Yeong whispered, pulling Gon tighter into himself, “it’s just that a lot of other people aren’t good enough.”

Oh, Yeong. Oh Jo Yeong, why did you have to go about your life being effortlessly perfect? How were mere mortals like Gon meant to stand a chance?

They stayed like that for a while, still stood in Taeeul’s doorway, neither making any moves to dramatically change their position. Shinjae disappeared inside, for a while, graciously leaving the two Coreans be.

For a few, stolen moments, Gon began to forget about Taeeul. He began to forget about his Kingdom, and about his new dilemma, because all he knew was Yeong. All he could see was Yeong, all he could smell was Yeong, all he could feel was Yeong, and all he could hear was the steady thumping of Yeong’s heart, smooth and even and alive.

Once upon a time, he had kissed Taeeul’s neck. He wasn’t sure how much she appreciated it at the time, but that gesture was sacred to Gon. To him, the neck was the most vulnerable, most precious part of the body, so for him to give hers that treatment of adoration was a gesture of love of the highest honour.

Though he tried not to show it at the time, the action terrified him. It felt raw, and vulnerable, and it created an unease that sat deep down in his chest for days.

Now, he was close enough to do the same to Yeong without tilting his head more than an inch. The prospect was alluring, and created a sense of excited anticipation within him, instead of fear. He wanted to bestow that high honour upon him, to show that he would love and cherish that most vulnerable part of him, and would get close to bring him pleasure, instead of pain.

But he couldn’t do that. They weren’t together, and it would be wrong to perform such an intimate gesture without asking.

It would just serve to delude him, anyway, that he could have a future with Yeong. If he had learnt anything recently, it was that delusions benefitted no one, least of all himself and his best friend.

Perhaps he could take captain_dreamland’s advice from a few weeks ago, and find a lesbian to make his queen. That way Gon could be open with her about what he wanted, and they wouldn’t have to pretend to each other to be in love.

How he could advertise he was looking for a woman like this, he realised, he had no idea. But he’d think of something.

However, if he did manage it… maybe then, he could tell Yeong. Come clean about his sexuality at least, to assure him that even with his new wife, he wouldn’t love Yeong any less, because he and his wife would be nothing more than friends.

That was way off in the future, though. For now, he supposed he could be happy enough in the knowledge that Taeeul breaking up with him might mend the fractures of Yeong’s broken heart, at least superficially. Enough for him to carry on as normal, and interact with Gon without fear of overstepping imaginary boundaries.

Gon had a plan. Sort of. It was a tenuous plan, but a plan nonetheless.

He could give his people what they wanted, as well as assuring Yeong that they’d stay as close as they were. It was a win-win situation.

Unless Yeong wanted to be closer than they were. Then he’d still be breaking Yeong’s heart.

But Yeong didn’t want that. Gon couldn’t let his own guilty desires cloud his interpretation of Yeong’s feelings. He didn’t trust himself to tell friendship and love apart with Jo Yeong, so he wasn’t going to try.

Yeong was probably straight, Gon decided. Most people were. And it would be easier if he was, because saving his feelings would be a lot less complicated if there weren’t any romantic ones involved.

Jo Yeong just cared for him, and that was more than enough. As long as Gon had that, he’d be alright.

Was what he was going to tell himself, anyway.

“I think you might need to go,” Shinjae nudged the pair of them, looking past Gon to the end of the courtyard. From the way Yeong tensed, Gon concluded that Taeeul had finally arrived home.

Not wanting to intrude any more than he already was, Gon took a step back from Yeong and straightened out his shoulders, gathering enough willpower and motivation to get himself back home.

“Shall we, Yeong?” Gon offered out his arm and attempted a smile, which probably came out more as a brief movement of the corners of his mouth.

Yeong took his arm, and Gon immediately leaned into his side, craving the comfort again after ridding himself of it just a few moments earlier.

“Let’s go home,” Yeong said, and Gon nodded his head in agreement with the sentiment before taking his first unsteady steps back towards Corea as a single man.

When they passed Taeeul, she didn’t acknowledge them. They didn’t acknowledge her, either.

Unable to resist, however, Gon looked back one last time to see Taeeul wrapped up in Shinjae’s embrace, and him lovingly caressing her back as he smiled softly down at her.

That must have been what he and Yeong looked like, Gon thought as he turned back around.

The only difference was that their hug might be the beginning of something new. Gon and Yeong’s would only be the continuation of something else, twenty-six years in the making.

***

As soon as Gon appeared on Taeeul’s doorstep, a light gust of wind away from falling to pieces, Yeong made a vow not to leave his side until he was on top form again, regardless of how much he protested.

Surprisingly, though, Gon didn’t protest at all. Didn’t bat an eyelid when Yeong slid his arms around Gon the second they entered his study, and kept them there until they sat down on one of the sofas, and didn’t move them even then.

Gon was sat in front of Yeong, and Yeong was behind him, resting his head on Gon’s shoulder.

It was stupid of him, really, to let himself stay this physically close to Gon. While primarily this arrangement was for Gon’s benefit, because his girlfriend who he loved to no end had just ended their relationship, Yeong would be lying if he said he wasn’t using it a little bit to patch up his own broken heart.

Finally, he could relax. Gon wasn’t about to marry himself off any time soon, leaving Yeong behind as he found a shiny new person to spend time with. Gon was going to stay with him a while longer, and Yeong wouldn’t have to torture himself with the knowledge that Gon had someone else he would rather be with.

When it was just him and Shinjae sat in Taeeul’s apartment, his feelings were a mess. Shinjae’s too – neither of them were helping each other, because the other’s pain was just a reminder that the glimmers of hope they had for the futures of their dreams were being snuffed out.

In all his time knowing Gon’s friends from Korea, Yeong had never seen Kang Shinjae as emotional as he had after Gon and Taeeul had left. Yeong supposed it made sense – Shinjae could hope for a future with Taeeul that was possible, so he had allowed himself to be far more optimistic than Yeong could ever dream of being, and Yeong knew just how dangerous that optimism could be. He had only experienced it for a couple of minutes, and he had suffered the consequences for days.

How lucky for Shinjae, that he could start building his hopes back up with more passion and vigour than ever before. Yeong could never be so fortunate. Though he hadn’t lost anything today, he also had nothing to gain.

Eventually, Gon would fall in love again. Cast Yeong aside once again. All Yeong could do was make the most of the time in-between, because he doubted he would get another respite like this the next time Gon proposed.

“How are you holding up?” Yeong probed, barely louder than a whisper so his question wasn’t too stark against the silence.

“Fine,” Gon seemed to force himself to say.

“Are you hungry?” he then asked, feeling a pang in his own stomach. He was going to eat in Korea, but neither he nor Shinjae had the strength to prepare something, or even bother to pick up their phones and order. Their stressed adrenaline had kept them going, but now that the coast was clear, Yeong was starving.

“No,” came Gon’s next monosyllabic reply.

Yeong rephrased his question. “Have you eaten anything?”

No reply. Then, after a brief wait, three slow, guilty taps on Yeong’s arm.

“I’m going to text Seungah to bring us something. Mind if I remove my arms for a second to use my phone?”

Gon shrugged, and Yeong took that as his signal to go ahead. He took out his phone and turned away from Gon – a habit, really, to protect his phone screen when it might incriminate him.

CHAT: You and Myeong Seungah

You:

Food for two in Gon’s study?

You:

Taeeul broke up with him, and I’m making sure he looks after himself

You:

But I also don’t want to leave his side

You:

You know how it is

Myeong Seungah:

his gf broke up with him???????? wasnt he gonna propose?????????

Myeong Seungah:

i mean yay for u but sucks for him

Myeong Seungah:

dont worry yeong, ill let the kitchen know and ull have some comfort food in no time

You:

Thanks Seungah, you’re a star

“All done,” Yeong told him as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Before he could turn back around, however, Gon was flinging his own arms around Yeong, resting his head on the back of Yeong’s neck. Still wanting to make an active effort to comfort him, Yeong resorted to gently resting his hands on Gon’s arms, moving his thumbs in tiny, repetitive circles.

And he let himself get used to the feeling of Gon seeking him out for comfort, cementing the feeling in his mind so he could draw on it in a few years time when they couldn’t do this anymore.

“You were taking too long,” Gon offered in way of explanation, “I was getting impatient.”

“I’m sorry,” Yeong soothed, not knowing how serious Gon was being, “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“It’s fine. You can make it up to me by staying here”

“Staying with you?” Yeong questioned. When Gon nodded, Yeong informed him, “But I was never going to leave.”

“Please don’t. Not just yet.”

“I won’t until you’re ready.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready,” Gon admitted, and Yeong tried hard to remind himself that no matter what he said, someday Gon would be.

“Then I’ll stay forever,” Yeong said anyway, ignoring his efforts at sanity. “I’ll stay here until we’re old, and you’re sick of me.”

“I could never be sick of you, Yeong-ah.”

“Don’t say things you know you don’t mean.”

“I do mean it!” Gon protested, “I enjoy being around you too much for that. And even if I didn’t, you could never be worse than being alone.”

“You wouldn’t be alone, you’d have your Queen by then. A way better queen than Taeeul,” Yeong then added, not wanting to make Gon feel any worse than he already did.

“She might not love me,” Gon pointed out, simultaneously pointing out that Yeong had failed in his mission, “Women from the Kingdom see me as the King. Taeeul saw me as Lee Gon. If my wife sees me as the King, Lee Gon would be alone.”

“I see you as Lee Gon,” Yeong reminded him, “so it’s not impossible for people from this world to see you as you are.” And fall in love with you, was how Yeong wanted to continue that sentence, but that revealed far too many of his hidden feelings to be a safe option.

“You’ve known me since we were children, before I became good at being the King. You’re an anomaly.”

“Still doesn’t mean it’s impossible. You can’t give up hope just yet, you’ve only been single for a couple of hours at most. You’ll find someone who loves you, I know it, if only because I won’t let you settle for anything less.”

“Good luck with that,” Gon huffed, shifting position slightly so it was his cheek that was resting against Yeong’s neck, and his head was facing the side. “She won’t love me if I don’t love her, and I don’t think I’m going to love her.”

“Because she’s not Taeeul?” Yeong queried, keeping his thoughts very much grounded in obvious reality.

“Because kings can’t bother with feelings. Duty has to come first, so feelings just hurt people. Most of all me.”

“That’s not true. You always told me how much your dad loved your mum, so he must have had real feelings for her.”

“And then he was devastated when she died, but he had to stay strong anyway. That must have hurt him.”

“Don’t you think it was worth it, though? Because even if there were low points, he got to experience the highs too?”

“I’m different to him,” Gon just said, with a tinge of what Yeong thought was disappointment present in his voice. “I can’t – I don’t want to be in love. It’d be easier.”

“Wouldn’t it just?” Yeong sighed, slumping forward slightly.

“Have you ever been in love?” Gon then asked, pulling Yeong ever so slightly closer.

What a question, Lee Gon.

Normally Yeong would lie, but with Gon so vulnerable he couldn’t bring himself to go through with it.

“Once.”

“Did she love you back?”

“No.” Yeong swallowed back the lump that was threatening to form in his throat before he continued. “They never reciprocated–” he paused, taking a deep breath before admitting to himself “–and they never will.”

Gon never would. Yeong couldn’t lose sight of that.

“But you’re Jo Yeong!” Gon protested, showing more emotion than he ever had since they got home, “Who would be stupid enough not to reciprocate your feelings?”

Yeong snorted, unable to quite believe his ears. Oh, if only Gon knew.

“You’d never guess,” Yeong said with a pained laugh, hoping that would be the end of this dangerous conversation.

It wasn’t, because his hopes for these kinds of situations were rarely realised.

“Was it Seungah?” Gon asked, because of course that was still who he defaulted to.

“No. Like I keep telling you, I’m not interested, and we’re friends.”

“Nari?”

“Still no.”

“Koo Seoryeong?”

“Definitely not.”

“Taeeul?”

“Gon,” Yeong sighed, “I sincerely doubt you’re ever going to get close. Guessing is going to get you nowhere.”

This quietened Gon for a moment, before he gasped sharply and leaned round as far as he could to look at Yeong’s face.

“Is it the Head Court Lady?”

“Absolutely not!” Yeong cried, the idea making him sick to his empty stomach. “Lee Gon, who do you take me for?”

Gon sniggered as he rested his head on Yeong’s neck again, snuggling up to his back and unknowingly warming Yeong’s heart as it became clear that he was doing a lot better than he was earlier. “She’s certainly someone who would never reciprocate your feelings.”

“Yeah, for good reason! She practically raised me, raised both of us! You’re disgusting.”

“I’m not the one with feelings for an old woman.”

“Neither am I! You are way off!”

“Whatever you say, Yeong-ah,” Gon mocked, “On a completely unrelated note, I’m your soulmate and I won’t judge, whoever it is. Even if it’s an old lady.”

‘Even if it’s a man?’ was what Yeong almost said, before he stopped himself just in time. Now that Gon was guessing, it was imperative he didn’t give that little detail away. Considering how close they were sitting now, and, well, literally everything else, it wouldn’t take a genius to make the leap from Yeong liking men to Yeong loving Gon.

“Trust me,” was what he said instead, “the person I love is of an appropriate age, I swear.”

“So you still love this person?” Gon asked, completely serious again.

Shit. This was feeling more and more dangerous.

“I do,” Yeong confirmed, because there was no use denying it now.

“Is that why your date with Ji – with Mysterious Ji Girl didn’t work out?” Gon then followed up, hitting the nail on the head completely.

Wait – Gon wasn’t about to say ‘Mysterious Ji Girl,’ just then. He corrected himself.

Suddenly, Gon’s arms around Yeong became suffocating, slowly squeezing the oxygen out of Yeong’s panicked chest.

Was Gon about to say Jihun, just then? Had he figured it out?

No, surely he couldn’t have. All of the names he listed for Yeong’s potential love interest were female, so he didn’t suspect a thing.

He couldn’t suspect a thing. Gon literally called his date ‘Mysterious Ji Girl,’ and that description didn’t fit Jihun.

It was fine. Yeong was safe. It was fine.

“It was.” Yeong tried to convince himself he couldn’t hear his voice still shaking. “My date guessed that I already had feelings for someone else. That’s how I messed it up.”

“Oh, Yeong-ah,” Gon lamented, reaching to hold Yeong’s hands in his own, “you’re going to break my heart. If you have someone you love, couldn’t you try and start something with her anyway? What do you have to lose?”

Everything. Literally everything. But he couldn’t tell that to Gon without giving the game away completely.

“I know they’ll never like me. I’m very much not their type, and they fully have their sights set on being with someone else. If I confess, I’ll almost certainly damage the relationship I already have with this person, and that’s worse than not being in a romantic relationship. At least this way I can still be close to them, one way or another.”

There. That was enough of the truth to still be vague enough that Gon couldn’t pin it down to himself.

Gon would never like him, not like that. And even if he did, by some miracle, what then? He still had a duty to his country to choose a Queen, and that would never be Yeong.

Maybe, if Yeong was exceptionally lucky, he could hope to get a few stolen kisses behind closed doors, or even sex if they were left alone for a while, but Yeong knew Gon, and he knew that Gon had too much heart, and cared too much to cheat on a wife he was meant to love with a man he could never have.

It wasn’t worth hoping for more than nothing. Of that, he was dead certain.

“Does she make you sad?” Gon asked, after a brief pause.

“Yes,” Yeong answered, and then, “no. Sometimes, but it’s my fault, not theirs. Most of the time they make me happy. Being around them is my greatest joy. It’s being apart that hurts.”

“I hope she sees reason. I don’t want you to be sad, and I don’t want you to be alone. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy,” Yeong told him, though he wasn’t sure to what extent that was true. “Being close to them is enough.”

“But you deserve more,” Gon pushed, “you deserve to have your feelings returned.”

Ha. If only.

Yeong wondered for a second how Gon would react if Yeong told him that he was the person he loved. Somehow he doubted he would be advocating so much for Yeong’s feelings then.

“Whatever you say,” was all he could say in response. He didn’t have the energy to fight Gon on this. Not when he was already working so hard to keep the parts of himself that agreed with Gon suppressed.

“Yeong-ah–” Gon started, trying to protest, before finally the multiverse decided to take Yeong’s side, and a member of the palace staff came in with a tray adorned with two bowls of kimchi jjigae, and two freshly baked brownies from the bakery near the palace that Gon loved.

Yeong breathed a sigh of relief, in equal parts because this conversation was over, and because he was finally going to have something to eat. He didn’t waste a second in grabbing his bowl and chopsticks and putting a large chunk of kimchi into his mouth, savouring the flavour.

After a few seconds, Gon reluctantly retracted his arms from around Yeong – though he still sat so their bodies were pressed up against each other as much as was possible – and reached for his own bowl, absent-mindedly stirring the kimchi around the stew.

“Aren’t you going to eat it?” Yeong probed, mouth still half full because his stomach was telling him that this was no time for table manners.

“I said I wasn’t hungry,” Gon said in response, staring down at his food with an expression Yeong couldn’t decipher.

“You also said you hadn’t eaten. Come on,” Yeong complained, “it’ll get cold if you wait too long.”

“I’m not sure I care. I let you get the food because I knew this wouldn’t be a fight I can win, but looking at it now, I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat without throwing up.”

“So teasing me about my love life wasn’t a good enough distraction for you then, huh?” Yeong sighed, offering a smile that he hoped was supportive, and not insensitive.

“Talking about your love life has got me thinking about your love life, and I think that’s made it worse,” Gon admitted, avoiding Yeong’s smile, and generally avoiding looking at him altogether.

“Ah,” Yeong breathed, turning back to his own food. Of course. Unrequited love – that was Gon’s life now. All his comments suddenly made sense. Every sentiment about not wanting Yeong to be alone, about wanting his feelings to be returned; that was him working through his own feelings, by projecting them onto Yeong.

For as long as Gon and Taeeul had been together, Yeong had resented their relationship. Had resented how it took Gon away from him, both in his ludicrous hopes and in reality, when even their friendship took a hit. Now, though? He felt incredibly guilty for ever wishing they might go their separate ways, because the toll it was having on Gon was unbearable to watch.

Yeong had half a mind to go back to Korea right now beg ask Taeeul to take Gon back, just to bring a smile to his face.

But he didn’t. If he did that, Taeeul wouldn’t be happy in the relationship, if she even agreed at all, and Yeong doubted Shinjae would ever talk to him again.

And now, as selfish as it was to think, he had Gon to himself. Gon who, eventually, would find happiness again.

He couldn’t let himself be pushed into a rash decision just because Gon wasn’t his usual self. That would be the least helpful thing to do.

“Is there any way you think you could be distracted?” Yeong asked, desperately seeking different ways to cheer Gon up, at least a bit.

“I doubt it,” Gon sighed, managing to stomach sucking the light covering of stew off the end of his chopsticks. “It’s very all-consuming.”

“Is there anything that might cheer you up a little bit, then?” Yeong tried again, attempting to playfully nudge Gon’s side.

“Lies. They’re practically a drug, at this point. A nice, sweet lie might do the trick.”

“What kind of lie? Can you tell one to me?”

Gon laughed sadly, grimacing before following through on Yeong’s suggestion. “Ok. How about this – we’re not in the palace, right now. I’m not the King, and you’re not Captain Jo. We’re just two guys who live together, in our own little place in the countryside, where no one can bother us. We don’t have any pressing responsibilities, we’re just happy living our simple life, and enjoying each other’s company.”

“Just Gon and Just Yeong,” Yeong realised, and Gon nodded.

“Exactly. Just Gon and Just Yeong. And we’re happy, because we have each other, and there’s no expectation to have anyone else.”

“I like the sound of that. It sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” The corner of Gon’s mouth tugged up as if it was about to smile, but it only lasted a split second before it fell again.

“I must say, though, Just Yeong is worried about his good friend Just Gon,” Yeong tried, finally earning some attention from Gon.

“He is?”

“Just Gon has barely touched his kimchi, and Just Yeong wants to make sure he looks after himself and eats well,” Yeong explained, raising his eyebrows at Gon, who looked too amused to be annoyed.

“Is Just Yeong going to do something about that?” Gon asked, a tiny but distinct sparkle in his eye.

“He’s going to try,” Yeong confirmed, wracking his brains to try and figure out how.

If the Just Yeong and Just Gon characters were how they were acting that day after Yeong’s date, then Yeong could safely say that Just Yeong had a lot more confidence than he did. He had a lot more optimism, too, and a far more relaxed relationship with the man beside him.

Just Yeong liked enacting tried and tested TV tropes with his best friend, and he had the balls to do it.

With that in mind…

Yeong took a deep breath to steady himself before picking up one of the pieces of kimchi from Gon’s bowl with his own chopsticks, and holding it near Gon’s mouth, smiling at him to mask how he was freaking out inside.

Gon stared at it for a second, before looking up to Yeong’s face, and then back down to the kimchi again, and for a moment Yeong could have sworn that the tops of Gon’s ears were a little pinker than they were before.

“Will this work?” Yeong asked, just seconds before Gon leant down and ate the kimchi off Yeong’s chopsticks, leaving Yeong in a state of shock.

He just did that. Lowly Captain Jo Yeong just fed His Majesty King Lee Gon, off his own chopsticks.

Though it was only Gon that time used to stop for, whenever Lee Lim crossed between worlds, Yeong wished it would stop for him in that moment so he could get up and scream with childish excitement and delight.

It took a couple of seconds for Yeong to collect his thoughts, and when he did, Gon was looking at him expectantly, like a sad, hungry puppy.

“See?” Yeong told him, barely containing his glee as he picked Gon up another piece, “You were hungry.”

“Only when you’re feeding me,” Gon said through his second mouthful of kimchi, beginning to smile for real as he got lost in the moment. “Just Gon loves doing stuff like this with his Yeong. He feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have Yeong all to himself.”

Ok Jo Yeong, don’t scream. Don’t scream! You know exactly what happened last time this ‘Just Gon’ and ‘Just Yeong’ stuff got too far.

He couldn’t let himself get too lost in the lie. His plan for getting over Gon was still stuck on his fridge, and if it had a face it would most definitely be frowning disapprovingly at Yeong right now.

Yeong didn’t care. He was making Gon happy, and that was making him ecstatic.

“Just Yeong feels exactly the same way,” Yeong confessed, picking up the next piece of kimchi from Gon’s bowl. “He’s living his dream right now, taking care of the man who brings him joy.”

“Just Gon and Just Yeong are made for each other, aren’t they?” Gon commented, choosing that moment to look into Yeong’s eyes with more sincerity and kindness and hope than Yeong had seen since–

Since that night. Seconds before they were the King and his Unbreakable Sword again.

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” Yeong half-heartedly agreed, unable to hold Gon’s gaze.

If he did, Yeong was concerned he might kiss Gon. Or start crying. One of the two.

“It does. And they have all the time in the world to spend together. Day after day, night after night. They don’t have anyone, or anything, that they need to get back to, and no one is around to watch them now.”

Maybe it was Yeong’s foolish wishful thinking, but Gon sounded like he was thinking about the exact moment Yeong was. About how he left, to go back to being the King, and all the duties that entailed.

And about how they were alone, right now. No Kingdom watching. Just Lee Gon, and Just Jo Yeong.

Was – was Gon offering? Was he offering what Yeong thought he was offering?

He couldn’t be. Gon had just broken up with Taeeul, for God’s sake, and had just spent far too long listing female love interests Yeong might have.

Yeong knew all that, and yet he couldn’t snuff out the little glimmer of hope that was beginning to form in his chest.

No, Jo Yeong. You knew better than to hope. How could you nurse Gon’s broken heart if you gave yourself another one of your own?

“Lucky them,” Yeong sighed, reminding himself of the truth more than he was replying to Gon, “to have such a strong and beautiful friendship.”

“Yeah,” Gon agreed, though Yeong’s wishful thinking thought it detected a hint of disappointment in his voice, “their friendship is amazing. Truly the envy of many.”

“You want some more kimchi?” Yeong asked, actively trying to steer the conversation away from places his imagination would start to work overtime, with the added bonus of trying to keep Gon cheery too.

Gon nodded, and Yeong provided, and they carried on like that until all the kimchi was gone, Gon thankfully taking the hint and not delving any deeper into feelings territory.

Yeong told himself that feelings weren’t good for Gon either, what with his newly broken heart, so it wasn’t totally selfish that he had stopped Gon in his tracks. Even if he had sounded disappointed.

Which Yeong wasn’t going to think too hard about. He was not going to do that.

No more thoughts, Jo Yeong. Why don’t you eat your brownie instead? Surely the taste of that will banish Lee Gon from your mind.

On his rational mind’s advice, Yeong took one of the brownies, and barely caught Gon saying, “Are you going to feed that to me too?” before he took a large bite out of it.

When he did hear Gon, he stopped dead in his tracks, the brownie still halfway in his mouth, held there as much by his teeth as by his hand. Slowly, Yeong turned to face Gon, hoping his eyes conveyed enough of a sense of apology.

“Yeong-ah,” Gon complained, “are you really going to start letting me starve now?”

Yeong started to move to protest, but before he could get very far Gon leaned forward and took a bite out of the brownie – that was still, by the way, very much in Yeong’s mouth – holding Yeong’s gaze the whole time he did so. He then leaned back and smirked as he chewed, surveying Yeong’s reaction with thinly-veiled amusement.

Alright Yeong, this was fine. This was just Gon processing what had happened with Taeeul, he couldn’t be held accountable for any actions he performed in this trying time. That little manoeuvre, that was Gon trying to toy with Yeong in a friendly, heterosexual way, because teasing Yeong was one of the few constants in Gon’s life that would exist whether he was the King or not.

It was not flirting. It was not motivated by any feeling that was more than platonic.

Though Yeong couldn’t get over how their lips had never been that close before.

“You’re leaving the brownie there?” Gon asked, prompting Yeong to quickly come to his senses and take his own bite, hurriedly putting it back down on the plate.

“No,” Yeong assured him, hoping that didn’t come out as panicked and breathless as he was feeling.

“Shame.”

Shame? Did he–

“That was fun. I might be able to stomach eating it all if I do it like that, if only for the look on your face.”

Oh, shit.

Yeong quickly abandoned the brownie completely, in favour of covering his face with his hands, tentatively peeking through gaps in his fingers to see Gon’s very amused grin.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Yeong-ah,” Gon drawled, clearly enjoying every second of Yeong’s suffering, “I know I can have that effect on people.”

“Aren’t you meant to be heartbroken?” Yeong protested, feeling his cheeks getting redder by the second.

“Yes, I am.” Gon pouted, and Yeong sincerely thought he might melt into a puddle of goo on the floor because this was too much. “That’s why you need to look after me, and feed me more brownie.”

“You’re getting way too much enjoyment out of this,” Yeong groaned, finally taking his hands away from his face and tentatively reaching for the rest of the brownie.

“Are you going to deny me enjoyment in my time of need? I’m weak, Yeong-ah, I’m at a point in my life where I have no concrete plan on how to move forward, and you would really deny me this chance to engage in a little lighthearted fun before I actually have to face my issues? I thought you were supporting the lying!”

“I guess I was,” Yeong conceded, mentally preparing for the fact that he was digging his own grave by letting Gon continue with this.

It was all for Gon’s happiness. All for his noble goal. Yeong could suck it up, just for now.

And so, though his rational thoughts were screaming at him to stop, his reckless desires won out, and he put the rest of the brownie halfway into his mouth, this time fully holding it with his teeth, and looked up at Gon in anticipation.

What the hell was he doing? Jo Yeong was meant to be the King’s fearsome Unbreakable Sword, and yet here he was, letting said King eat brownies out of his mouth.

It sounded insane. It sounded too good to be true.

It sounded like a scandal waiting to happen, if anyone decided to walk through the door.

But suddenly that didn’t matter, as Gon leaned down once more to Yeong’s level, taking it slower this time now Yeong had actually offered. As he moved in closer, all Yeong could see was that night, the last time they were Just Gon and Just Yeong, except this time Gon was going further than he did back then.

He was going further even than the last time he’d taken a bite out of the brownie, as he bit off pretty much all of what Yeong had left sticking out. Though it was light, and brief, for a moment Gon’s lips brushed against Yeong’s own as he bit down, and Yeong knew Gon noticed that too as he put a gentle finger to his lips as he pulled away, recreating the touch for himself.

Gon was smiling as he did that. He didn’t feel disgusted, or uncomfortable, or grossed-out at the thought of his lips meeting Yeong’s.

Yeong almost choked on the brownie that was left in his mouth. The scene was far too reminiscent of something Seungah might write in one of her fics, and Yeong subtly pinched himself to make sure he was awake, and definitely not dreaming.

He wasn’t dreaming. It was real. It was all real.

Had Yeong accidentally got a mix up on his Gons? Where this one was actually one from another universe where he had feelings for his Yeong?

The Yeong from that universe must be super disappointed now to have his Gon instead, if this was the treatment he was used to.

‘Maybe you should kiss him’ was the thought that Yeong couldn’t get out of his brain, no matter how hard he tried.

He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that! Yeong was not going to let his intrusive thoughts ruin his friendship!

“My turn,” Gon informed Yeong, snapping him out of his thoughts as he got the sense that Gon was about to do something even worse.

“Oh no. No!” Yeong protested, both as a reaction and a warning when Gon picked up the second brownie and put it in his mouth, raising his eyebrows invitingly at Yeong. “This is where I draw my line. You’re not getting me to do that.”

“Why not?” Gon said, his words muffled by his mouthful of brownie.

“It’s demeaning.”

“I did it!”

“And that was your choice. This is mine. No.”

“Fine.” Gon took his bite of the brownie, and frowned at Yeong after he put the rest back on his plate. “But just know that this way I’ll be having more brownie than you.”

“Fine by me. I want to make sure you’re well fed, remember?”

Gon frowned at Yeong for the whole time he took to eat the rest of the brownie. Yeong tried to be unfazed; that frown was victory for Yeong, as it showed he had won not only against Gon, but also against his unhelpful desires.

Was he proud of himself? Yes.

Was he a little disappointed that he didn’t go through with it? Also yes.

But Yeong was confident he had picked the better option, because while he had only barely survived Gon taking a bite out of his brownie, he knew he would never survive putting himself out there and taking some of Gon’s for himself. That would feel far too dangerous, far too naughty, and far too fundamentally wrong for someone who was meant to give to Gon, not to take from him.

***

Yeong stayed with Gon that night, of his own accord, because he wanted to.

Well, that wasn’t quite it. What really happened was that Yeong never made any move to leave, and Gon didn’t make any suggestion to him that he might like to do so, so they sort of just ended up together without either of them asking for it.

Gon didn’t mind. In fact, he didn’t just ‘didn’t mind,’ he was positively thrilled at the idea.

He dreaded to think what kind of nightmare might have been waiting for him otherwise. Maybe something about his entire world falling down around him, or about being trapped, condemned to a fate he couldn’t escape.

Or maybe he’d be rejected again. By Taeeul, if his subconscious wasn’t feeling creative. By Yeong, if it was.

Maybe he’d just be alone. No one around for miles when he started to suffocate, the last traces of air getting choked out of his lungs, the pain of which would then be accompanied by a stabbing–

“Gon,” Yeong whispered, eyes full of concern as they stared at him in the almost-black. “Gon, are you alright?”

‘Fine,’ Gon made a move to say, realising once he tried that no sound came out of his mouth.

He tapped twice on Yeong’s arm instead, not wanting to make his friend worry. He was fine, really. He was fine with Yeong by his side.

He was even more fine, after realising that maybe he had got ahead of himself for thinking that Yeong might like him, after all. His best friend completely brushed off Gon’s attempt to reference their almost-kiss, and repeat it with an actual one, and then he had seemed borderline disgusted at the thought of eating the brownie out of Gon’s mouth, like Gon had done with him just before.

Jo Yeong was probably straight.

And he had someone he loved.

That was fine. Good for him, right?

Except not, as he was so adamant that his love would never love him back.

Gon still couldn’t understand who in their right mind wouldn’t love Yeong back, not if they were age-appropriate. Yeong had everything! Money, good looks, and status, for those that looked for that in a partner, and the kindest, most genuine, most loyal, and most loving personality, for those that appreciated those kinds of traits instead. Whoever Yeong was in love with, he could offer them everything they wanted.

Unless that girl didn’t like men, Gon figured. Had Yeong got himself into a reverse captain_dreamland situation? Is that why he knew his love wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings?

Oh, Yeong-ah. How foolish, to fall for one of the few girls he couldn’t have.

‘At least that way you have him all to yourself,’ a selfish part of Gon’s mind whispered. ‘At least that way you can keep him by your side, regardless of any romantic attraction.’

Gon tried not to let himself be pleased by that thought. Really, he should be encouraging Yeong to go out and find happiness. Yeong wasn’t the King, he didn’t have to worry about balancing feelings and duty, he could go and marry, or not marry, whoever he chose.

But the truth was, even though Gon knew he couldn’t have Yeong, and even though he was desperately trying to make peace with that fact, knowing someone else held Yeong’s heart hurt to no end.

All of Gon’s fantasies about proposing to Yeong instead of Taeeul were now dashed, tainted with the knowledge that, like Taeeul, he would have said no. All the times he had reimagined their almost-kiss were tarnished by the fact that Yeong would have been uncomfortable the whole time, because Gon was no substitute for the person he really wanted.

It would be more difficult for Gon if Yeong liked him. It would make his future relationship decisions far harder, if he knew that he would be breaking Yeong’s heart by making them.

However, knowing that Yeong didn’t like him, not in that way, brought Gon an unshakeable sense of disappointment. Like realising his feelings, and getting closer to Yeong – all of it was for nothing.

Maybe sexuality was consistent across worlds. Maybe Lee Chul was a tyrant, and he forced Jo Muyeol into a relationship with him against his will.

If that was the case, Gon wondered what all the other Lee Gons that were Kings of Corea were doing. Whether they forced their Yeongs into relationships, whether they forced themselves into heterosexual relationships for the sake of the crown, whether they found love again with another man they liked, or whether they remained single forever, neither confirming nor denying any rumours circulating about them.

If the woman Yeong loved didn’t like men, then would she perhaps be open to marrying Gon? It was a sad thought, but Gon was desperate.

No, he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t do that to Yeong. That really would break his heart.

Maybe she might know someone, then, that Gon could marry?

It was certainly worth a shot.

“Hey Yeong-ah,” Gon whispered, hoping Yeong was still awake enough to listen.

“What?” Excellent! He was!

“This girl you love, do you think I could meet her? Please? I need to talk to her about something important.”

“You can’t do that,” Yeong told him, with a deep sigh. “Somehow I don’t think that interaction is going to work very well.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think you’d want to know.”

What? In what way would the interaction ‘not work?’

Unless – no, it wasn’t that. Gon had already established that Yeong held no feelings for Gon of any kind that progressed past those of friendship.

Then… oh. Oh God.

Was the person Yeong loved dead? And that’s why his feelings would never be reciprocated?

Oh, Yeong-ah!

Gon pulled Yeong into a tight hug, resting his head on Yeong’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he comforted, rubbing his thumb up and down Yeong’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Yeong-ah.”

“Don’t be,” Yeong responded, his voice trembling slightly. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I just – I just want you to know that I’m here for you, ok? No matter what. And I’m sorry for teasing you about this earlier. I didn’t even stop to consider–”

“Have you figured it out?” Yeong gasped, freezing still under Gon’s arms.

“I think I might have. And I’m really, really sorry.”

“Am I going to lose my job?” Yeong asked, his voice so quiet and so tentative it was barely audible.

“What? No, of course not, why would you lose your job over that?”

“Well,” Yeong began, “you know–”

“Yeong-ah. I value having you by my side too much to ever let you go. You know that, right?”

“I suppose so,” Yeong agreed, his breath catching slightly in his throat. He was shaking now, his body convulsing in the way it does when you’re trying to conceal that you’re crying.

Yeong was crying. Gon had reminded him of the woman he loved, and that had made him upset, and oh God, what had he done?

“Hey, Yeong-ah, look at me,” Gon instructed, backing off from Yeong a little to give him room to turn himself around to face Gon. He hesitated for a moment, steadying his breathing, before doing what Gon said and turning over.

Yeong looked absolutely terrified. That was the only way Gon could put it.

Was he worried that Gon was going to judge him? Gon was the last person that would judge him for feelings that refused to go away!

“Yeong-ah. You don’t have to suffer by yourself. If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here to listen, and I promise I won’t judge anything you have to say. You’re my Unbreakable Sword, and nothing will get in the way of that.”

“I really don’t think I want to talk about it with you. It feels wrong, on so many levels. But thank you anyway, for being so kind about it. You’re a really great friend, Gon! Better than I ever could have asked for.” Yeong tried to smile, but it was obvious his body just wanted to descend into sobs.

“You can stop being strong, Yeong-ah, it’s ok,” Gon assured him as he pulled Yeong back into his arms. “I know how hard this must be to talk about, and I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry,” Gon thought he heard Yeong say, but it was difficult to make out when Yeong finally let go of his feelings and quietly cried, burying his face in Gon’s chest as the tears kept on coming.

Gon stroked the back of his head, and held him close. When Yeong’s tears finally died down, he still held him close.

Gon held Yeong close for the rest of the night, and woke up to find him gone.

Leaving Gon alone, once again, with his thoughts. And his dilemma. And his duty.

***

Yeong went to his health check-up, hoping the doctors would be kind enough to deem him still unfit to work

They didn’t, because his life was still a cosmic joke.

So, as he turned up to work for the first time in weeks, Yeong pondered the pros and cons of putting himself in mortal danger again, just to be spared the cruel fate of having to spend his days around Gon again.

King Lee Gon, who knew.

King Lee Gon, who had basically told him that he would never return his feelings. Which Yeong knew. But which he had never had stated explicitly to him before, by the man himself.

And Yeong was meant to just go back to work, and pretend like everything was fine?

Gon needed him, he told himself. Gon was still recovering from his broken heart, and since he hadn’t cast Yeong out of his life forever upon learning that Yeong’s feelings went a little bit deeper than friendship, it was up to Yeong to help keep him company and keep him happy until he was over her.

They were still friends. Though Yeong knew that their dynamic must have shifted considerably, whether Gon intended for that to happen or not, they were still friends.

Somehow. By some twisted miracle, Yeong’s life hadn’t fallen apart.

But now he was living it, he almost wished that it had. At least that way he wouldn’t have to be around Gon with the knowledge that he knew his darkest secret, his greatest weakness, that he had never, ever meant to let out into the world.

When he arrived to pick Gon up for today’s schedule, his King looked up from where he was talking to Lady Noh and smiled – smiled? – at Yeong, as if nothing had changed, and as if he was pleased to have his depraved, perverted bodyguard by his side again.

No, that wasn’t quite right. When Gon looked at Yeong, there was pity in his eyes.

Yeong didn’t want pity. He could have managed hate, was expecting some level of hate or distrust, really, but pity?

It was demeaning. Gon knew Yeong was in love with him, and he felt sorry for him. How much more fucking pathetic could you get?

Not only did Yeong not want pity, he didn’t need pity. He had made peace with his feelings’ hopelessness a long time ago, and he didn’t need Gon coming in and acting like he wished he could do something about it.

Gon didn’t love him, and Gon didn’t care. Yeong desperately had to remember that, if he wanted to hold onto some shred of professionalism, and some shred of sanity.

“Yeong-ah!” Gon called and beckoned for him to come over, and God why did he seem so damn happy about seeing Yeong again? He should be revolted at seeing the face of the man who had used his good graces for his own selfish desires!

But Yeong went over to him anyway, because that was his job, and it was a dynamic he would have to get used to for the rest of his life.

“Captain Jo,” Lady Noh greeted him, with a warm smile of her own, meaning Gon obviously hadn’t told her about his unfortunate confession, “it’s nice to see you well enough to come back. I know His Majesty has been waiting eagerly to see you back in your uniform.”

“Head Court Lady!” Gon warned, snapping his head back round to glare at Lady Noh, before turning back to Yeong with a small chuckle and explaining, “It’s because I’ve missed having you as my guard, of course. You already know you’re my favourite.”

Favourite? Still?

Wait – the Head Court Lady didn’t know. He must be keeping up appearances for her. That’s all this nicety was, just waiting for the right time to break the news that Jo Yeong was unfit to guard the King.

That was understandable. Yeong could play along. If there was anything he was good at, it was staying professional no matter what.

“Of course,” he replied, shrugging on his unshakable Captain Jo persona, “my memory isn’t so bad that I’ve forgotten what you said to me a few days ago.”

“Should I leave you two boys to it?” Lady Noh asked, and Yeong wanted to scream no, anything but leaving him alone with Gon where he didn’t have to pretend to be nice for the witnesses, but because he was still pretending, and because he was Captain Jo again, he couldn’t say a thing.

“I think you’d better,” Gon affirmed, so the Head Court Lady left with a bow, cementing Yeong’s doom.

“So–” Gon began, clasping his hands together as if he was going to say something else, but stopping before he did.

“So?” Yeong raised an eyebrow.

“Welcome back, Captain Jo,” he offered, opening his hands in timid celebration.

Ha. “Bet you’re glad to be rid of Just Yeong, huh? That guy doesn’t know how to keep his shit to himself.”

Gon frowned. “That’s not what I said. All I meant was I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to work again, not any of that. I like Just Yeong too.”

Liar. He was just trying to save Yeong’s feelings, because he pitied him. Just Yeong was no good to Gon at all.

“You don’t need to be nice about it,” Yeong informed him, crossing his arms and frowning too. “I’m here to do my job, not beg for your compassion.”

“So this is about that,” Gon sighed, shaking his head a little. “I really am sorry about bringing it up, Yeong-ah, honestly. If I’d have known, I never would have talked about it at all.”

“Don’t be. My feelings are my fault, and my fault alone, and I assure you I have been doing everything in my power to move past them. You told me that kings can’t bother with feelings, and the same is true for the Captain of the Royal Guard. Today I promise to be all business, and nothing more.”

Hearing some of his own words reflected back at him seemed to affect Gon more than Yeong was expecting, as he furrowed his brow and looked at Yeong with… concern? Confusion? Hurt?

Hesitating slightly, Gon began to reach out an arm, which Yeong caught and held in place before it reached much further than his chest.

“Don’t,” Yeong warned him, “I don’t want your pity.”

“I’m not trying to pity you,” Gon explained, slowly and carefully as if Yeong was an ignorant child, “I’m trying to show care for you, because I want to make sure you’re alright.”

“Are you mocking me?” Yeong accused, tightening his grip around Gon’s grip as his body tensed.

“How am I mocking you?”

“By telling me what you know I want to hear! I already know you can’t make anything better, so you can drop this pretence of nicety and stop tiptoeing around the truth.”

“Do you want me to be mean about it?” Gon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That is what I was expecting, now you’ve had some time to think about it. You should at least be judging me to Hell and back for my vastly inappropriate choice of love interest.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Yeong-ah. Ever. At all. Especially not about love. I know how easy it is for the heart to want someone it can’t have.”

There was an air of sad longing in Gon’s eyes as he said that, and – oh God.

Oh, fuck.

Yeong had been so wrapped up in his own problems that he’d completely forgotten to consider that Gon was hurting over love too. And Yeong had just ripped open the Taeeul bandage again, because he was too damn busy being hurt himself to think before he spoke.

What was this, the second time he’d done that recently?

Why the goddamn fucking shit was he so bad at people? It really beggared belief!

“Look,” Yeong began, hurriedly trying to scramble some words together to cover for himself, “let’s just both try and be professional today, ok? We can attempt it together, I know I’ll be more motivated if I know that you’re with me, trying just as hard. But also don’t worry if it’s difficult, because I’m sure it must be, and so if being out and about is too much then just give me the signal and I’ll take you somewhere else, or I can call the whole thing off. Just – you’re well aware how much I – I care about you, so even if she makes you sad, you can remember that, or laugh about it maybe, or–”

“Yeong-ah,” Gon cut him off, laughing a little to himself before saying, “I think I’ll be ok. You’ll be with me, right?” Yeong nodded stiffly. “Then that’s all I need. Bonus points if I get to see you get a little happier and more relaxed, but I get that’s probably hard. Just having you by my side is enough.”

“And you’re sure you still want that?” Yeong queried, unable to quite believe his ears about just how nice Gon was being.

“Of course I’m sure. You’re my soulmate, my favourite person. That hasn’t changed since the last time I told you.”

Oh yeah, just kick Yeong’s soul in the gut, why don’t you?

Yeong definitely would have preferred it if Gon hated him. He had never prepared himself for a scenario where Gon didn’t hate him when he found out the truth, and his current reality just felt wrong.

His feelings were unprofessional at best, and immoral and creepy at worst. Yeong should not be receiving kindness right now.

He wanted to point that out, but figured that Gon would just continue to ignore him and be kind anyway, so he didn’t bother.

Despite everything, Gon still considered Yeong his favourite person. He didn’t deserve that at all. Had to remind himself that he didn’t deserve it.

For the first time, Jo Yeong, don’t listen to your King. You are not his favourite person. You fucked it all up beyond repair. Any kindness he is showing is out of a perceived sense of duty, with no real care behind it.

Gon doesn’t care. Gon hates you.

There. That could keep Yeong’s emotions on the straight and narrow, at least for a while. Pain, at least, was a feeling he knew how to keep under wraps.

“Come on,” Yeong ordered gruffly, dropping Gon’s arm and walking towards the door, assuming Gon would follow, “you have an event to get to.”

The event that they were to be attending was the final of the C League 1, which Gon attended every year, despite not particularly caring much for football. Unfortunately for him, his country did, and so because Gon wanted to make an effort for his country, he liked to make sure he showed his face at the important matches.

Yeong didn’t care much for football either, to be honest. A stadium full of drunk hooligans was not an atmosphere in which he enjoyed protecting Gon.

Still, though, that was all the more reason for him to be there, guarding his King no matter what. He was pleased to report that he had managed to get his emotions in check after he had first seen Gon that morning, and was now in full business mode, ready to do his job for the first time since the timeline was reset.

“Who’s playing today, Yeong-ah?” Gon asked as they walked the short way to the stadium, seemingly having got back to normal himself.

“Pyeongyang and Seongnam, Your Majesty,” Yeong informed him, preparing for protest in three, two, one–

“Your Majesty? I thought I told you to use my name.”

“I’m on duty, and would rather not cause a fuss. I’ll call you by your name when my shift is over.”

Gon pouted, looking down at Yeong with pleading puppy eyes, but Yeong wasn’t going to budge that easily.

“I’m ok with fuss,” Gon complained, “I told you I’d set the record straight, no problem.”

“The problem with fuss, Your Majesty, is that it makes you about fifty times harder to guard. This is my first day back after weeks off, so I’d appreciate it if I got a simple reintroduction.”

“Fine,” Gon conceded, “but this means you’re going to have to hang out with me after work today so I can hear it. Being called by your title all the time is terribly isolating.”

Shit. After work? Someone please shoot Yeong now and end his suffering, he didn’t know how much more of this he could–

The sound of a gunshot rattled through the stadium, shocking Yeong out of his thoughts and straight into action, pushing Gon down to the floor and covering him with his body before he really registered what he was doing, years of training kicking into action.

A quick look down showed that Gon wasn’t hurt, thank God. Shaken, maybe, but not hurt.

The rest of the Royal Guard also sprang into action, some focusing on protecting Gon, others focusing instead on finding whoever it was that shot the gun.

They didn’t need to look for very long, however, because the shooter soon stepped forward into Yeong’s – and Gon’s – line of sight, pointing the gun with shaking hands down at Gon, who took in a sharp breath when he saw the face of his attacker.

Jeong Taeeul.

No, Luna. It was Luna!

Was she still a threat, even after the reset?

Evidently so.

In an instant, every member of the Royal Guard had their guns trained on her, save Yeong, but only for a few seconds as he got up, positioning Gon behind him, and aimed his own gun at her head.

A depraved part of Yeong was relishing being able to point his gun at someone who looked exactly like the woman who had just broken Gon’s heart. Even if it wasn’t actually her, imagining it was proved to be extremely cathartic.

Luna was unfazed. She was glaring at Gon, who Yeong could feel stiffen behind him as she yelled at him, “Tell me what you did to Kang Hyeonmin! Tell me!”

Confusion flickered through Yeong’s mind before he realised.

Kang Hyeonmin. That was Shinjae’s name, in this world.

Shinjae mentioned that pre-reset him was friends with Luna, didn’t he? When they first reset the timeline?

And they had dropped him off in Korea. And left him there. With no warning.

No wonder Luna was pissed. They really hadn’t thought that through at all.

“You’re Luna, right?” Gon said from behind Yeong, his breathing loud and steady, suggesting he was trying to control it to keep himself calm.

“How do you know my nickname?” she exclaimed, not backing down in the slightest.

“Your Majesty,” Yeong whispered, “are you sure you should be talking to her?”

“She deserves it, Yeong-ah,” he whispered back, before addressing Luna again. “Hyeonmin told me. I know what this must look like, and I’m sorry. I can explain everything, if you’ll give me the chance.”

“Go on then,” she told him, softening just a fraction, but enough that Yeong could pick up on it. “Explain how Hyeonmin suddenly started acting weird, saying he needed to find the King, and then the next day headed to the palace and never came back. What the fuck did you do to him?”

“I can explain everything,” Gon promised, “but not here. Would you mind coming with me back to the palace?”

“Are you going to make me disappear too?”

“No. I promise I will return you to your home after we’re done. Get in contact with someone you know, if you want, tell them that they have my permission to request I be dethroned if I don’t get you back home by the end of the day.”

“I’ll do it in the car,” she relented, after taking a few moments to consider. With that, she put her gun away, and gestured for Gon to lead the way back to the car, which he did, nudging Yeong to follow him.

Yeong did, but unlike Luna he didn’t put his gun away, instead keeping it trained on the back of her head all the way to the car, even when Hopil and Inyeong made swift work of disarming her. Gon opened the door and got in, but when Luna tried to follow him, Yeong blocked her path.

“I’ll sit next to the King. You stay on the other side of me,” Yeong ordered, getting in next to Gon without waiting for her approval. Luckily for him, she relented without fuss, climbing into the seat beside Yeong and shutting the door behind her.

“Back to the palace,” Yeong then barked at the driver, and they were off, away from the football game and back towards home.

It was then that Yeong took a second to assess his situation.

He was sat in-between Gon and the person from this world who shared the face of the woman who just broke up with him.

Gon wouldn’t be comfortable with Luna, because he was still sensitive about Taeeul.

Gon couldn’t be comfortable with Yeong, because he’d just found out Yeong was in love with him.

Luna was angry at Gon, because she blamed him for Shinjae’s disappearance.

Luna probably wasn’t too pleased to be sitting next to Yeong either, considering he’d just pulled a gun on her.

Yeong was in the middle of this, for the hours it would take to get back to the palace.

Come on. It was his first day back, and this was what he had to deal with?

He deserved a goddamn pay rise.

“Were you close to Hyeonmin?” Gon asked, breaking the silence.

“I thought I was,” she sighed, staring out of the window. Then, after a couple of seconds, “You’re talking about him like he’s dead. Is he dead?”

“In a sense,” Gon mused, “it’s difficult to explain. There are still too many people here.”

“How can someone be dead ‘in a sense?’ You’re either dead or you’re not, one or the other.”

“Luna. I told you, there are still too many people here.”

“Don’t call me Luna,” she snapped, “I’m Koo Seogyeong to you.”

Yeong was about to reprimand her for her tone, but Gon subtly raised his hand in a gesture of ‘not now, Yeong-ah.’

“Alright, Ms. Koo. I apologise for not asking for your name earlier.”

Hang on – Koo? Shouldn’t Luna’s surname be Jeong, like Taeeul?

Unless she was adopted, Yeong supposed. Luna from the previous timeline didn’t appear to have any family, so perhaps if she’s different from before, a nice family took her in?

Well, nice might have been a strong word. If she just pulled a gun on Gon, she couldn’t have had a totally idyllic upbringing.

Remarkably, Gon appeared to be relatively unfazed that the person sitting to the other side of Yeong had just made an attempt on his life. And that said person was, for all intents and purposes, the same person that had just broken his heart.

Yeong tried not to consider the possibility that it was because Gon had just had his heart broken by Jeong Taeeul that he was past the point of caring about his life, and whether it continued. That wasn’t his Gon. He was a fighter, he struggled through the tough times and made it out the other side.

He was Yeong’s inspiration, in that regard. If Gon could make it through his shitty life and still manage to put on a smile, then Yeong could keep going while frowning.

That was sort of how they were behaving now. Yeong knew he was scowling, which he told himself was to appear intimidating in front of Luna, but was more likely the result of his near-constant bad mood, but Gon was smiling, and making polite conversation.

Gon was being nice, even to Luna.

No wonder he was being so nice to Yeong earlier. That’s just what he’s like, easily forgiving, able to exchange pleasantries with near-enough anyone, even if he had no reason to, and even if he didn’t mean it.

At least that meant Yeong could rest assured that Gon probably did actually hate him now. He really was just being polite, falling into his old kingly ways because he didn’t know how to do anything else.

That was helpful, really, to Yeong. If Gon hated him, they would eventually grow distant, and then his not-so-secret secret wouldn’t be true anymore.

With that in mind, Yeong wanted Gon to hate him. He was glad that Gon hated him. Positively fucking thrilled.

Sure, he’d have to spend the rest of his life pretending to be on good terms with the man that knew he loved him, and being hyper-careful of how his every action could be interpreted, but at least he knew for sure what Gon’s feelings towards him were. At least he had that consistency.

Consistency was a positive thing. Even if Yeong was struggling consistently, was suffering consistently, he knew what he was in for, and he could also get used to it. He wouldn’t have his expectations raised just so they could crash again, because he knew what he was getting. That was good.

And yet still, despite all that, Yeong found it impossible to deny that he yearned for the opposite. He yearned to be wrong, he yearned that somehow, the truth was that Gon really did–

‘Love’ was a strong word. Maybe at least he wanted Gon to give a fuck about him, a little bit more than he cared about the other seventy-seven million people in Corea. Yeong couldn’t deny that would be nice, but it’s also a thought he couldn’t let himself entertain.

He got the same treatment as Luna, now. That’s all he was to Gon.

Semi-consciously, Yeong found himself shifting away from Gon. Unable to stop himself, he sneaked a peek to his side to see if Gon noticed.

Judging by the flicker of pained confusion on Gon’s face as he met Yeong’s eyes, he did indeed notice.

Yeong pretended that he didn’t notice, however, turning back so he faced the front, and looking down at his feet.

Gon didn’t care. Gon thought of Yeong as nothing more than an employee. A sword, a tool to be used. Yeong had to remember that.

It was a long rest of the car journey back to the palace, Gon’s near-constant small talk an incessant drone in Yeong’s ears.

Usually he would sit back and let the timbre of Gon’s voice wash over him, soaking it up into his soul and letting it bring him a kind of calm, comforting joy, but he couldn’t let himself do that anymore, so instead he drove himself insane trying to keep his mind cold and professional.

But eventually, to Yeong’s utmost relief, they made it. The rest of the Royal Guard had followed them, so when they exited the car they were swarmed by people in black suits moving to guard Luna, and to protect Gon. Yeong took the moment to get lost in the crowd, to blend in and gain a small sliver of privacy, just for a few seconds, so he could exhale and release some of the tension that he had been holding in his body for God knows how long.

And then they were on the move, and Yeong was on duty again. Gon led Luna to his study and instructed the Royal Guard to wait outside, well away from the door.

Not wanting to repeat his past mistake when Taeeul first arrived in their world, Yeong stood with them, keeping his head bowed so as to blend in with his colleagues.

At least if he stayed outside, he could have a little relief from pretending like everything was fine.

“Not you, Yeong-ah.” Yeong looked up, and that was a mistake, because Gon was looking right at him so he had no option to feign ignorance. “I’d like you in here with me. You know about Hyeonmin, and I need someone to guard me.”

Of fucking course. Yeong should have remembered that his life was a cosmic joke, and he could never expect to get off this lightly.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Yeong sighed, resigning himself to his fate as he followed after Luna and Gon.

This was going to be the whole rest of his life.

Usually he could convince himself he deserved it. Yeong wasn’t sure he could, this time.

“So, Ms. Koo,” Gon started, after sitting down at his desk, “how familiar are you with the multiverse theory?”

Seriously? Gon was starting with that?

And on a related note – he was really going to tell her the truth? Yeong had assumed that he’d make up a very plausible lie and send her on her way, but apparently he was really going for it.

Could these tightly-kept state secrets really be entrusted to Jeong Luna, or Koo Seogyeong as she now called herself?

“What’s this got to do with Hyeonmin?” Luna questioned, and fair play to her. If Yeong didn’t know any better, he too would have assumed that Gon was about to go on a scientific ramble to stall for time.

“It’s got everything to do with Hyeonmin, actually. You’re going to have to take a few things I say at face value, but I can assure you, everything I’m going to tell you today is true. Captain Jo here can attest to that.”

“How do I know I can trust him to be objective about the truth? Everyone knows your Unbreakable Dog would let you take him from behind if you asked.”

It took all of Yeong’s dwindling strength not to go and knock her teeth out there and then.

He knew she didn’t know. Didn’t know about how Yeong really felt, and didn’t know that Gon just found out.

He knew that, but seriously, couldn’t she have picked slightly better timing?

Her words clearly made Gon uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat, trying not to tense but tensing anyway, and sneaked a look at Yeong that Yeong could only describe as pained.

And full of longing, he supposed. Longing for her words not to be true.

Until then, Yeong had been in control of his hurt, making it manageable, if only barely.

Not anymore, when he met Gon’s eyes. Because that was the first glimpse Yeong got into Gon’s true feelings.

It was one thing to tell yourself the man you loved couldn’t stand you. It was another thing entirely to know it for sure, and see it clearly in his behaviour.

Yeong wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. But he couldn’t, because he wasn’t Yeong, he was Captain Jo, and he had a job to do.

“I highly doubt that’s the case, Ms. Koo,” Gon informed her, clearly ruffled, “but I do understand your point. Unfortunately, you’re just going to have to trust us, because we’re the only two people in this universe that know what happened to Hyeonmin.”

Well, and Seungah. But Gon didn’t know she knew.

“Fine,” Luna conceded, “let’s say I’m going to believe you. Explain away, Your Majesty.”

“Alright. The timeline we’re living in right now is not the original one.” Gon paused to gauge her reaction, but from Yeong’s vantage point he could barely tell what her expression was. It must have been satisfactory enough for Gon however, because he continued, “I won’t go into all the details about the original one, because the only detail that is currently relevant is that Hyeonmin as you know him wasn’t in it. This was because when he was a child, he was taken into a parallel universe, and raised as his counterpart in that world, called Kang Shinjae. That’s how both Captain Jo and I first met him.”

“He did say that Hyeonmin wasn’t his name, when he went crazy,” Luna noted, surprisingly calm about this whole thing.

“When he ‘went crazy,’ as you put it, was when the timeline was reset to what you know today. Since Shinjae – or Hyeonmin, as you know him – was originally from this universe, he was taken back here, except he was one of a select group of people from across this world and that parallel universe that retained their memories of the old timeline. Unfortunately, that meant he had no knowledge of what his life was like in this world, and I regret to inform you that as far as I know, he never will. So when I said that Hyeonmin was dead in a sense, that’s what I mean. The Hyeonmin you know is gone.”

“Where is he now?” Luna asked, a slight tremor now apparent in her voice. This suggested she was being affected, which weirdly suggested that she actually believed him.

Perhaps she was willing to believe anything, after having been denied an explanation for weeks on end.

“The other world. Everything and everyone he ever knew is there, including the woman he loves. You in the other world, in fact. They’ve been close for years. And she’s newly single, so you can rest assured he’s happy.”

Yeong heard Gon’s voice tighten, subtle enough that Luna probably wouldn’t notice.

She didn’t. She was far too busy being affected by Gon’s words herself, despite also trying hard not to be.

“The other me is newly single?”

“That’s correct.”

“She’s an idiot for staying with her old boyfriend for as long as she did. How blind was she to ignore the great man she had in front of her the whole time?” Luna sounded as if she was struggling to maintain her composure, slightly more than before.

Gon laughed to himself, though Yeong couldn’t tell whether it was genuine or to mask the pain her words were surely driving into his chest. “I couldn’t agree more. Her old boyfriend was an asshole.”

If Yeong wasn’t on duty, he would have protested that claim instantly. Or maybe not, as it would have hammered home the fact that Yeong desperately desired to call that asshole his boyfriend, which is not what his relationship with Gon needed right now. Anything but reminding Gon of the fact that his best friend had severely betrayed his trust.

Instead, he tried offering Gon a concerned look, which Gon noticed, and ignored.

So Yeong wasn’t comforting anymore. Good to know.

“So that’s it, then?” Luna sighed, slumping slightly in her chair. “I’m never going to hear from him again? He’s just… left me alone?”

“I can send you updates, if you want?” Gon offered, trying his best to muster a smile. “I do have pictures, which I could easily give to you.”

“No thanks. I don’t think I want to know about his new life with rip-off me. Better to grieve, and then move on. If he’s not coming back, I’d rather pretend he was dead than know he’s out there enjoying himself without me.” She paused. “Is that selfish?”

“Not at all. I understand completely.”

Yeong understood too, and he desperately wanted to warn her that it wasn’t just that easy. If she loved him, which he figured she did from the way she was talking, then from Yeong’s experience it would be nigh-on impossible to properly move on, even when you’ve lost all hope.

Because somehow, he still loved Gon. Wanted to make sure he was happy. Wanted to make sure he was cared for, and loved in the deepest possible way. And Gon hated him, but Yeong still loved him. With every fibre of his being.

It would definitely, definitely be easier this way, Yeong kept telling himself. What was he if not used to loving with no love in return, with scorn and dismissal often taking its place?

Gon and Luna kept talking about Shinjae – Hyeonmin for a bit, but Yeong hardly noticed. Barely noticed when she left, if he was being honest with himself, and was being escorted away by a few of the guards waiting outside.

He only snapped back to reality when the smile that was plastered across Gon’s face dropped, and he slumped forward onto his desk, with his head in his hands.

“Your Majesty–” Yeong began, hesitant to make a move, but making one anyway out of his baseline desire to make sure Gon was alright.

“We’re alone, Yeong-ah,” he sighed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut for a second, as if trying to hold tears back. “Please call me Gon. I don’t – I don’t want duty right now. And now I get that saying that now makes this a duty and – God, this is hopeless. This is all so fucking hopeless.”

Gon’s breathing hitched in his throat, and if Yeong looked carefully enough, he could see that despite Gon’s best efforts, he was failing to hold the tears back any longer.

Yeong wanted – no, he needed to go over to Gon and help him, every muscle in his body was crying out to go and wrap Gon in the tightest embrace he could manage, but he forcibly reminded himself that Gon wouldn’t want his comfort anymore. It wouldn’t help. It would only make everything worse.

“What’s hopeless?” he asked instead, hoping that was reserved enough to not be uncomfortably intrusive.

“Everything!” Gon exclaimed, a mad sort of smile gracing his pained face, “Every fucking thing! I’ve fucked up with Taeeul, and in the process screwed my entire country over, I’ve apparently fucked up by letting Shinjae go back to the Republic, and I’ve fucked up enough with you that you’re calling me ‘Your Majesty’ again, and maintaining so much of a professional distance that you don’t even want to be close to me now, physically or emotionally!”

Oh.

Fuck. Fuck.

Yeong had only gone and done it again, hurting Gon by wallowing in his own damn misery.

Had he misread some signals, then? It wasn’t entirely unlikely, Yeong knew more than anyone else how terrible he was at all… this.

“Gon,” he began, desperately trying to salvage the situation, “I’m sorry, I–”

“Don’t you apologise, Yeong-ah, none of this is on you. This is what I deserve, really. I made Taeeul upset by not being able to assure her I was with her for love, and not duty, so it’s fitting that now I’m not sure about you. Maybe I misread everything. Maybe this whole time you were just saying what I wanted you to say, and acting how I wanted you to act. Maybe I fucked up so badly that you can’t bring yourself to do even that, anymore. And I wouldn’t blame you, I’ve been pushing you too far for God knows how long, and – Yeong-ah?”

Yeong couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t take Gon making claim after claim that was just wrong, on so many levels, so against his mind’s warnings he near-enough sprinted over to Gon’s desk and wrapped him up in his arms, trying not to cry himself.

He hardly deserved to be the one comforting Gon, after how distant he was being all day, but if Yeong wasn’t going to do it, then who would?

“I thought you knew,” Yeong whispered, putting all his effort into keeping his voice steady, “I thought you knew how much I–”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Figured that it would only make the situation worse.

Never mind the fact that his heart would stop beating before he ever uttered those words out loud to Lee Gon.

“I’m sorry,” Gon said again, and God, why was he apologising? He had nothing to apologise for! “I know, I swear I do know, I’m just not in my right mind right now, and…”

“I know,” Yeong soothed, gently rubbing the back of Gon’s head where Yeong was holding it close to his chest. “I understand. You haven’t messed anything up with me, I can assure you of that much. I’m still here, if you want me.”

“Of course I want you, Yeong-ah!” Gon managed to say, before his body was wrecked with another, more powerful wave of tears.

Shit. Yeong really had misinterpreted this whole thing, hadn’t he? If there was anyone that should be blaming themselves, it was him, and not Gon at all.

“You’re the only one I have left,” Gon continued, once he was able. “I can’t lose you too. But that’s not an order. That’s a request, from Just Gon, to Just Yeong. Please don’t leave my side. I don’t think I could cope without you with me.”

“I’m not going to leave,” Yeong assured him, “nothing is going to make me voluntarily leave your side.”

Evidently. Yeong had spent the whole day thinking Gon hated his guts, and he still hadn’t considered the prospect of leaving as being a real option.

“Voluntarily?” Gon questioned, his voice small, and open, and raw.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen. Something might happen to me in the field, and I might be injured so badly I can’t keep my position… or worse.” Gon made a move to wrap his own arms around Yeong then, perhaps in an unconscious effort to protect him from that fate. “Or you might decide you don’t want me around, and–”

“Stop that,” Gon ordered, grabbing the fabric of Yeong’s shirt as he balled his hands into fists.

“Stop what?”

“Talking like I’d ever not want you with me. Like it’s something that you’re considering might be possible. It’s not. It’s not possible. I need you. I want you.”

And Yeong couldn’t tell himself that was a lie. No matter how much his sense of self-preservation wanted to convince him it was.

What a concept, to be wanted. Yeong wasn’t sure he trusted himself to know what it felt like.

Maybe that was why he couldn’t let himself be selfish when he decided what capacity it was that Gon wanted him in.

‘Want’ was a broad concept. Gon might just want him around because he was good at his job.

Perhaps Gon was somehow satisfied with his friendship with Yeong, and that’s what he wanted to keep. Even if Yeong was shit at it, and kept hurting Gon the moment he started to feel a little sad.

That second one was already becoming too much for Yeong to handle, so he didn’t bother thinking about any more interpretations of Gon’s words. He had to stay composed for Gon. He was the one helping Gon, and he couldn’t ask Gon to turn around and start comforting him, not right now.

“I’m sorry,” Yeong said, though he was unsure if he would be able to promise not to do it again. “I’ll remember that.”

“You sound like you’re receiving an order. You don’t have to submit without argument just because I made a request.”

“That’s not what I was doing, honestly. It helped. I’ve… also not been in my right mind today, so my already faulty emotional-processor isn’t working at its usual capacity. I’m not sure I remember how to act like a person.”

“Is that–”

“That’s not your fault, Gon. I swear. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Look at us,” Gon laughed, “the Mighty King and his Unbreakable Sword, reduced to whatever the hell this is.”

“Humans?” Yeong offered, for the first time that day beginning to relax.

“Humans, exactly! Weak, puny, fucked-up humans. With feelings. Where did it all go wrong?”

“Gon. You’re allowed to have feelings. You’re sad about Taeeul, and everything hurts, and that’s ok.”

“But kings can’t–” Gon protested, before Yeong cut him off before he could finish.

“Then don’t be the King. Be Just Lee Gon, whose girlfriend just broke up with him, just as he was about to propose, Just Gon whose best friend was acting like a prick today and definitely contributed to him feeling shitty, and Just Gon who just saw his ex-girlfriend’s face be sad about someone she now can’t have, that’s not him. Be Just Gon, who needs a friend, and who doesn’t want to be alone.”

Gon pushed himself out of Yeong’s embrace so he could look up at him with his sore, red eyes, giving Yeong his first real view of his tear-stained face, his vulnerable expression that threatened to undo Yeong there and then.

“And you’re that friend?” Gon clarified, and Yeong tried not to let it sting that he even needed to ask. He’d be a hypocrite for feeling like that, after spending the whole day telling himself that Gon wanted nothing to do with him.

He held himself back from answering with ‘if you want me to be,’ knowing that Gon wanted him to be sure.

“I am. I want to give you that, of my own accord. Just Yeong, to Just Gon.” And Yeong believed himself, too. It felt more genuine than anything he’d felt for a good while. “I want you to feel, no holds barred. Can you do that for me?”

Yeong could almost see Gon’s internal barriers crumbling, one by one, as his shoulders slumped, curving his back instead of maintaining his perfect royal posture. He hung his head, letting his breathing get heavier and heavier, faster and faster, and shit, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea if Gon was going to–

And then Gon stood up and threw himself onto Yeong, letting his legs fall weak as he knew Yeong would hold him up – which he did – and burying his face into the crook of Yeong’s neck, letting his pent-up emotions escape in physical form.

“I don’t know what to do, Yeong-ah,” he admitted after a while, his voice raspy and sore. “I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t have any options left. None that are viable enough to be seriously considered.”

What could Yeong say to that? He knew better than to tell Gon to follow his heart – he was too much of a cynic to believe that was necessarily a true option for the King.

But if Gon’s head was scrambled, what other path could he take?

Instead of talking, he just rubbed Gon’s back and held him close, and hoped that would be enough for now.

“I guess I shouldn’t be complaining to you,” he then said, piquing Yeong’s interest. “Here I am, all cut up over a wrecked romantic future when you never even had one to begin with.”

Yeong took a sharp intake of breath, and then stopped breathing entirely as he waited for Gon to continue. Was he seriously breaching this territory? Talking about Yeong’s feelings for him as if they were a casual truth, and not something that had the capacity to change everything?

“I mean, at least I can still see the person I love. The person you love is dead, for God’s sake, and you’ve never been a snivelling wreck in my arms because of it.”

Wait, what?

Dead?

He very clearly wasn’t! Hurt, maybe, but not dead.

But if that’s what Gon thought–

An involuntary smile began to spread across Yeong’s cheeks as he realised just how wrong they both had been. Soon, even his face couldn’t contain it, so it manifested as a laugh that started out small, and then grew bigger and bigger until it filled up the entire room.

“What’s so funny?” Gon asked, still gloriously clueless.

“You don’t know!” Yeong cried, unable to contain his glee despite the previously melancholy atmosphere. “The person I love – you don’t know who it is!”

“I don’t? But when you said– I thought–”

“The person I love isn’t dead, Gon! They’re very much alive!” Yeong held Gon slightly apart from him so he could look at him properly, and show him just how much that was true, and just how pleased he was about it.

Even Gon seemed to have been snapped out of his earlier despair, as the only emotion Yeong could sense was one of intrigued confusion.

“She’s alive? So what did you mean when you were talking about how I couldn’t meet her?”

“It doesn’t matter now! Please don’t ask me any questions because I just want to ride this high! You don’t know! This whole day – this whole day it’s been eating me alive and you don’t know! God, I’m so happy I could kiss you!”

An awkward tension fell between them, and suddenly Yeong realised what he’d said.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have spoken so soon.

Gon was looking at him like – Yeong didn’t even know.

Yes he did. It was like he was last week, just before their almost-kiss.

Did he–

He didn’t want to.

Did he?

No, he didn’t. He didn’t.

“It’s a turn of phrase,” Yeong chuckled nervously, telling that to himself perhaps more than Gon, “you know.”

“Yeah, of course.” That look in Gon’s eyes was gone. Maybe it was never there. Maybe Yeong had imagined it, as he tended to do when it came to Gon’s feelings.

“Sorry, I – that was out of order,” Yeong confessed, not able to look at Gon’s face anymore. He missed that look. No he didn’t. Yes, he did. “You were being vulnerable, and you were hurt, and I just–”

“Yeong-ah, it’s fine. One of us needs some good news, right? And if today you were upset over a misunderstanding, I’m glad it’s been fixed. I like it when you’re happy.”

Yeong peeked a look at Gon’s face again, and he was smiling, despite everything. Softly. Warmly. As if he meant it.

Gon meant it. Gon liked it when Yeong was happy.

Gon wanted him.

It was a surprise to Yeong that his heart was still beating, because he could have sworn it was melting more and more the longer he let this thought set in. The longer he let the truth set in.

Gon didn’t hate him. Gon… probably cared.

No, that was too much. If he held that thought in his mind any longer, he might just end up screaming out the wave of emotions it brought. Maybe later, when he was in private. Not right now.

Still, though, he was happy. That was for definite now, for the rest of the day at least. Yeong told Gon as such, and Gon hugged him again, this time in celebration rather than as a tool for comfort.

They were hugging in celebration now? Yeong could get used to that.

“God, you’re amazing,” Gon breathed, talking so quietly Yeong wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear it or not. “You’re everything. And you’re staying.”

“I’m staying,” Yeong repeated, matching Gon’s whisper and grinning where he couldn’t see.

“In that case, I think I’ll be ok. I’ll find a way, as long as I have you.”

“Yes you will,” Yeong agreed. “You’ll have found a way anyway, whether I was there or not, but you don’t need to worry about that second option because you’ll always have me.”

Yeong wanted to say ‘I love you.’ He desperately wanted to say it, to tell Gon just how much he meant to him, to use it as assurance that he’d never want to leave Gon’s side.

But he couldn’t. He’d learnt many things today, one of which was that if Gon ever found out about Yeong’s feelings, however Gon reacted, Yeong would be a mess. Telling him voluntarily was suicide.

So instead, Yeong showed him. For the remainder of the day, Yeong stayed by his side. That night, Yeong stayed by his side. And the next day, and the next night, Yeong stayed by his side. And the next day, and the next night.

And the next day, and the next night.

It was bliss. Gon wanted him there.

Yeong never wanted to leave.

Chapter Text

Compromises were important in a relationship. That was a fact of life. No two people were ever going to agree on everything, or do things in the exact same way, or want the same things in their day-to-day routine.

Gon was not in a romantic relationship with Jo Yeong. His best friend was straight, and Gon himself might as well have been, considering what he had to do for his country. Throughout the past week, however, Gon was pretty sure he had got a taste of what his life would look like if they were in a romantic relationship. Had perhaps let himself slip sometimes and pretended that Yeong really was his boyfriend.

Now, in the most part this was fantastic. Gon didn’t think he had ever been snuggled so much in his life, even when both his parents were still alive and he didn’t care so much about people touching him. Spending his days with Yeong again was amazing, and spending his nights with Yeong was arguably even better, because when the door and curtains were closed and the light was off, it was very easy to pretend that they really were Just Lee Gon and Just Jo Yeong, with no Kingdom to please, simply enjoying each other’s company and unbridled love.

The only downside to having Jo Yeong as his almost-boyfriend – aside from the obvious ‘almost’ part of ‘almost-boyfriend’ – was that Captain Jo was a morning person.

Every single day, almost like clockwork, Yeong’s alarm blared in Gon’s ears at the ungodly time of 5:30AM, waking him up only to find his best friend getting out of bed, putting sports clothes on, and heading off to the gym by six. Apparently it was ‘important’ because he ‘needed to regain the strength he’d lost recovering from his injury so he could protect Gon to his full capacity’ or something stupid like that.

Unfortunately, when Yeong warned Gon he would be doing it, Gon had agreed to it because he knew how much it meant to his best friend, so he figured that even if it was annoying, it would be worth it.

And it sort of was, to be woken up again a couple of hours later by the sound of the shower running in his en-suite bathroom, swiftly followed by the glorious sight of Jo Yeong dressed only in a towel wrapped around his waist, beads of water from his wet hair that was plastered to his face dripping down his face and landing on his chiseled body, running across the curves of his pecs and his abs, and making Gon feel incredibly hot and bothered first thing in the morning.

It was a sight he could get used to, and he tried not to think about how his days of being able to see it were numbered.

Most days, when Yeong returned from his shower, that was cue for Gon as well to start getting ready for the day, so he could attend whatever events were in his plan for the next twenty-four hours.

Today, however, was Saturday, and pretty much straight after they went to Korea the first time after the reset, he had made sure to give both Yeong and himself Saturdays off so they could go to the other world unrestricted. This, of course, hadn’t been relevant to Yeong until now, so when Gon was brutally woken up at 5:30 again that morning, he decided to reward himself with another post-shower Jo Yeong before he told him that getting up wasn’t necessary at all.

It didn’t even take a second for Yeong to decide he wanted to go straight back to bed, still with wet hair, still only wrapped up in a towel – only a towel! – and go back to sleep in Gon’s arms, with the brief explanation of “Being back at work again is tiring.”

He fell asleep again in about two minutes, give or take, his head resting on Gon’s bare chest, his arms gently holding Gon’s sides, and his legs tangled in amongst Gon’s own. Gon’s explanation for taking his shirt off was that he didn’t want to get it wet, which was true to an extent, but really he just wanted to revel in having this insane amount of skin-to-skin contact with the man he loved.

The whole time Yeong was laying there, Gon could honestly say he was on cloud nine. It wasn’t every day that the universe gifted him with a whole morning to hold Yeong in his arms, unbothered by the outside world, and simply admire the sleeping beauty that had chosen to stay with him.

Sleeping like this, Yeong looked far more delicate than he did in his waking hours, with his hair now just managing to fall into his eyelashes, as it had been steadily growing for the past few weeks, and his lips gently moving slightly more open and slightly more closed, each time he took a breath.

If they really were together, Gon would wake him up when the time eventually came with a good-morning kiss, or two, or several. He would never be able to, but with Yeong here, right now, like this, he could construct a better mental image than he’d ever be able to otherwise, and that was almost enough.

One thing he could do, however, was gently run his fingers through Yeong’s drying hair, which was usually impossible thanks to Yeong’s impenetrable gelling. It felt strangely wrong for Gon to be able to thread it freely through his fingers, though in a very good way, so he made the most of the way it felt before it was another thing he lost forever.

At this close vantage point, it was very clear to see how the black of Yeong’s hair wasn’t quite black at all, and was interspersed with highlights of brown, and a little orange that caught the light, and – was that grey?

Pulling apart his hair so Gon could see the roots, it was clear that there were certainly distinct patches where his hair was coming through lighter, though the colour stopped consistently a couple of millimetres up, changing to his familiar black.

Yeong was dyeing it. Yeong was going grey, and he was only thirty.

They did say that stress gave you grey hair, didn’t they? Gon had read numerous articles at the beginning of the year about how scientists had finally found a pretty concrete link between stress and premature greying, but to think that it was happening to Yeong…

Gon hated that it made sense. Hated that he knew how much stress Yeong was under anyway with his job, and how Gon himself had actively added to that when he brought a murderous uncle and another universe into the equation. Yeong was his Unbreakable Sword, emphasis on Unbreakable, and he had never once heard Yeong complain about any of it being too much, but of course Gon shouldn’t have been foolish enough to believe Yeong’s silence.

He needed an out. Needed a break at least, a proper break, not one where he was recovering from a physical injury, and not one where Gon was still putting him through the emotional wringer.

Though Gon knew that Yeong was going to refuse, especially as he had only just got back to work, he was going to try and get him one. Get Yeong to spare a moment to look after himself for once, instead of solely looking after Gon.

That was a big step, though, for Yeong, and Gon knew that. It would be impossible for Yeong to turn around right now and agree to six months in Bali, away from the stress of the palace and his job and Gon, but perhaps he could at least convince Yeong to give himself today to properly recharge, and properly let loose, with no irresponsible king to worry about guarding.

It wouldn’t solve the problem. Yeong would still be stressed tomorrow, would still be working himself above and beyond his limit, but at least he wouldn’t be doing that today, as well.

Gon almost couldn’t manage looking down again, to look at the small patch of silver he had uncovered for himself. It was a physical marker that Gon had pushed him too far, and the fact that he was trying to cover it up was a different marker, showing that if Gon hadn’t noticed, Yeong was going to keep letting him do it without a peep of complaint.

For the nth time, Gon was taken aback at just how much he didn’t deserve Jo Yeong. His fearsome Captain, who would probably keep going for him even beyond the grave if he discovered a way to do so. His Unbreakable Sword, who got up at 5:30 every morning just to make sure he was strong enough to protect his King.

Yeong was probably disappointed in himself, Gon realised, seeing that his body was struggling to cope. Because he was a stupid, hard-working martyr, Yeong probably saw his grey hair as a personal failing that he needed to work harder at and push through, rather than a sign he needed to look after himself.

It wasn’t a failing at all. Yeong was still perfect, would always be perfect, and as much as Gon wanted to assure Yeong of this he knew that bringing this discovery up would probably do Yeong more harm than good, no matter how much Gon told him it was fine afterwards.

Instead, after checking that Yeong was still soundly asleep, Gon leaned his head forward and kissed the grey roots, in an act of both appreciation and apology for the stress that Gon knew was mostly his fault.

Though Gon knew the action was futile, as it wouldn’t fix anything, and Yeong wouldn’t even know it happened, it still made him feel a little better to know that, just for a moment, Yeong had been adored.

He quickly brushed Yeong’s hair back into a more natural arrangement after that, leaving no traces that his fingers or his lips had ever been there.

“I love you,” Gon whispered, resting his hands on Yeong’s back instead, gently moving his fingers up and down in small, repetitive circles, “I love you so much, Yeong-ah. I wish you’d look after yourself, but if I have to do it for you then I don’t mind at all, because I love you.”

They stayed like that as the minutes ticked by, Gon occasionally whispering words of love and adoration to the beautiful, perfect man sleeping on his chest, but mostly just soaking him in, appreciating every curve of his body, counting every mole and every scar.

There were too many scars. Not even the Kingdom’s best bulletproof vests could protect Yeong from every weapon, and every attack, and now his body was littered with an array of marks, telling the tales of a hundred fights and dangerous situations. The latest bullet wound was slowly joining them – though the others were fading, and were hardly visible from a distance, when Yeong came out of the shower every morning it was impossible to ignore the large pink welt on his chest, and the accompanying line marking the subsequent surgical incision, forever marking Cheonjongo onto his body.

Gon’s scar from that night was gone, now. It disappeared after the reset, but looking at Yeong, now, it was as if by going back and changing the timeline Gon had transferred that physical reminder from himself onto Yeong.

If they were together, Gon would kiss every one of Yeong’s scars, saving those healing ones until last so he could turn that awful night into something that could bring pleasure and love, instead of only destruction. He wanted to honour Yeong, and honour everything he’d been through, and it was incredibly frustrating and disappointing that he’d never be the one to do it, and he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure that anyone ever would.

But that was the King’s curse; to watch, but never to really touch. Even what he was getting right now was far more than he ever could have hoped for, and he should really be counting himself lucky that he got to steal this tiny sliver of intimacy from the future he could never have.

He wanted the morning to last forever, so he could push the inevitable rest of his life further and further back, minute by minute, second by second, until eventually it would just disappear off into infinity.

King Lee Gon, unfortunately, was never going to be that lucky.

“Your Majesty!” someone – Seungah, when he looked up – called out, opening the door to his bedroom, “Are you in here?”

“Shh,” Gon told her, holding a finger to his lips, “Yeong is sleeping.”

Seungah took a second to look at Yeong, then move her gaze to Gon, then back to Yeong again, a smile slowly forming on her lips. “I was actually going to ask you if you knew where Yeong was, because I wanted his help with something, but you know what? I might actually have got it covered now.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good. I’m pleased it’s all sorted. It is his day off, though, and I’m going to make sure he uses it, so I’m afraid I wouldn’t have let you take him anyway.”

“Don’t worry Your Majesty,” Seungah giggled, still looking down at Yeong where he was laid on Gon’s chest, “it wasn’t a work thing. More of a… personal project, that he gives me advice on sometimes.” She then paused, pursing her lips before asking, “So are you two living together now or what?”

Were they living together now? It wasn’t like they had discussed anything concrete, Yeong just sort of started staying over every night, and moved his toiletries over to Gon’s bathroom, and brought some of his clothes over as well, and a bunch of work stuff, and–

Oh God, they were living together! Actually properly living together! Like proper boyfriends!

“I suppose?” Gon offered as response, not wanting to get too excited in front of someone that didn’t already know how he felt, “We didn’t agree on anything in particular, it just sort of happened.”

“No wonder he hasn’t been replying to my texts,” Seungah remarked, surprisingly happy about that fact, “he’s been spending all his time with you, hasn’t he?”

“Yes he has,” Gon confirmed, “is that a problem?”

“Not at all, not at all! I’m really happy for him – he’ll kill me for telling you this, but I can guarantee you he is over the moon about the whole arrangement.”

“I’ve noticed.” Gon smiled down at Yeong, unable to stop himself taking in the sight as he reminisced about just how much Yeong had been smiling over the past few days.

“And you like it too?” Seungah probed, asking her statement as a question when Gon knew it was obvious that it was true.

“I love it,” he admitted, still only looking at Yeong. He had loved the week, but not nearly as much as he loved the man he spent it with. “I sort of wish we could stay like this forever.”

“Huh. Does Yeong know you think that?”

“I think he does,” Gon answered, though in actual fact he wasn’t entirely sure. Yeong must have picked up on that, right? At least enough to get it in a friendly context?

Yeong knew how much Gon enjoyed being Just Gon with him, and he had been on such a high having Yeong to himself all week that surely Yeong realised just how much Gon wanted this.

“Good. I’m glad, I think he deserves to know. You might even convince him to open up a bit,” Seungah laughed, and Gon hoped that if he continued along the same path for a while, she’d be right.

That’s all he realistically wanted for Yeong. To see him happy, and rested, and peaceful, and confident enough in himself to open up from time to time, before everything got too much and it had to force itself out instead. As with Yeong taking a holiday, that was definitely something that had to be worked up to, but it wasn’t like Gon hadn’t already been trying to encourage Yeong to let go a little.

He hoped it was paying off, even if the results were slow. Yeong deserved that much.

“That might take a miracle,” Gon joked, trying to keep up with her light tone, “but I’m trying. Unfortunately there’s only so much one man can do, even if he is the King.”

“One man and one woman,” Seungah corrected, beaming down at him. “I’m trying too, so I feel your pain, Your Majesty. When it comes to refusing to let people in, he really is quite something.”

“Isn’t he just?” Looking up at Seungah again, he added, “Thank you. For being there for him, I mean. It’s good that he’s got someone he’s close to that he doesn’t have to take orders from.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Your Majesty. I know he appreciates your friendship at least as much as mine, and almost certainly more. You have absolutely no idea how many of our conversations are about you.”

“I’m feeling too peaceful to argue with you right now, Myeong Seungah, but please know that I would if I had it in me.”

“Aw, is sleeping Yeongie having that effect on you?” she cooed, bringing both her hands to her heart and looking at the pair of them as if they were a cute puppy, rather than a couple of grown men.

“What can I say? He’s very powerful. Every effect he has on me is pretty overwhelming.”

“In a good way?”

“A very good way.”

“I see,” she said, as if considering something. “Say, Your Majesty, would you say that you loved Jo Yeong?”

Yes! Oh God yes! Gon could hardly fathom how much he loved Yeong!

“Of course,” was what Gon went with instead, because Seungah worked on his public image, so he needed to appear somewhat straight to her, “he’s my best friend, of course I love him.”

Yeah, he only occupied Gon’s every waking moment, was only his greatest comfort when times were hard, and even when they weren’t, and he was only the person Gon would devote his life to if he was given the choice.

“Best friend, uh huh.” Seungah seemed to be making a mental note of that. To avoid a possible future scandal, maybe, if Gon carried on indulging himself like this?

No, why would she be worried about that? She didn’t have any reason to suspect anything, unless–

“Seungah.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?” She smiled innocently at him, which Gon found very suspicious.

“Lady Noh hasn’t told you anything about me, has she?”

“She’s told me lots of things about you,” Seungah informed him, “it’s quite hard for me to do my job, otherwise.”

“No, not that,” Gon clarified, “I mean something more personal. Something you might have to work quite hard at to cover up, if it ever got out.”

“Is there something like that, Your Majesty?” she asked, with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Not at all,” Gon answered quickly. Perhaps too quickly. “No, I was just wondering. She likes to tease, and I just wondered if it had got a little out of control, and it obviously hasn’t. No need to panic.”

He wasn’t panicking. Seungah didn’t know, and he didn’t know why he had even thought, really, that she might have that idea in her head.

“Of course. Though if there is something you want to tell me, I promise I’ll keep your secret safe,” she assured him with a wink, glancing down at Yeong for a second before looking back up at Gon again.

No, no! She didn’t think–

“There isn’t.”

“Alright! But if there ever was–”

“There isn’t.”

“–you can trust me, Your Majesty.”

“Are you finished?” Gon sighed, grateful for Yeong’s presence to keep him grounded, and keep his emotions stable.

“I am. Good chat, Your Majesty!” With that, she breezed out of the room, popping her head round the door to give Gon another wink before shutting it and leaving him alone with Yeong again.

Perhaps he’d have to be more careful with his adoring gazes in future, if apparently the staff were getting suspicious.

The problem with that was he really didn’t want to hold back any of his love for Yeong, because he deserved to feel it all.

Perfect, beautiful, adorable Jo Yeong. The most lovable man in all creation.

Gon was the luckiest man in the world to be able to share even a fraction of his life with him, let alone have him nap on his bare chest.

How he still managed to get that, after everything he’d put Yeong through over the years, he really had no idea. But he wasn’t about to question that now. Why ruin a beautiful moment?

“I love you,” Gon whispered again, unable to contain himself. How could he, when he had Yeong with him, and it was perfectly safe to do so? “I love you, I love you, I love you. You’re so perfect. I love you. I love you. I have to say this now, before I can’t ever again. I’m so, so in love with you, Jo Yeong. You’re my everything. I love you to infinity. Is that possible? I’m not sure. Definitely more than a googolplex, and there aren’t even a googolplex atoms in the universe. Not even a measly googol, so my love for you is definitely more than the universe. I’d like to say it’s probably more than the multiverse too. God, it’s confusing having to factor in the multiverse now. Fascinating, though. Perhaps I should submit the Manpasikjeok for scientific testing. Or at least show some physicists round the Republic. I’d probably get the Nobel Prize in Physics for my discovery. I say ‘I.’ I know I went there first, but I’d definitely share the prize with you. Wow, my Yeong-ah, with a physics award. I’d never be more proud.”

“In what universe,” Yeong croaked, shifting slightly in his position as he slowly came to, “would I be getting a physics award?”

“Yeong-ah!” Gon exclaimed, though he was still speaking in a whisper so as not to frighten his sleepy Captain, “You’re awake!”

“And you’re crazy. Were you talking about physics the whole time I was asleep?”

“Not the whole time,” Gon admitted, before grinning. “I talked a bit about maths too.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Yeong groaned in his deeper-than-usual morning voice, gently slapping Gon’s shoulder. “You should make the subject of mathematics your Queen.”

“Oh, if only,” Gon laughed, earning a laugh from Yeong too. “Did you sleep well?” he then asked, as Yeong rubbed his bleary eyes, but made no move to get up.

“Like a baby. Or not a baby, they don’t sleep very well at all. Like a very tired Captain of the Royal Guard.”

“This is why we don’t get up at stupid o’ clock to go and do exercise,” Gon mock-chided, wrapping his arms more tightly around Yeong now that there was no threat of waking him up.

“5:30 is a respectable time to get up,” Yeong complained, very cute and very wrong.

“I’ve gone to bed at 5:30 in the morning. Waking up then is not respectable at all.”

“Who let you go to bed at 5:30?”

“Don’t worry, Yeong-ah, this was before your time in the Royal Guard. You couldn’t have stopped me, and I don’t think I could do it now, anyway. Your poor friend is getting old.”

“You’re not old,” Yeong protested, “you’re only in your thirties.”

“I’m getting wrinkles, Yeong-ah! Actual wrinkles!”

“You are not getting wrinkles.”

“I am! You can check for yourself, right around my eyes!”

With a huff, Yeong pushed himself up from Gon’s chest, leaving Gon feeling cold and bare for a moment before Yeong sat on top of Gon’s hips, legs straddling his torso, and leant forwards to inspect Gon’s face, pulling at the skin around his eyes with his thumb.

Yeong was still only wearing a towel. Gon frantically tried not to let his imagination go to dangerous places, since considering where Yeong was sitting he’d find out exactly what Gon was thinking.

“There are no wrinkles here, you liar,” Yeong said as he intently studied Gon’s face. “No wrinkles, and not even a single grey hair. You’re fine.”

Gon felt a stab of guilt as Yeong said that, knowing what he found out earlier. By Yeong’s own criteria, he wasn’t fine, and there was no way Gon couldn’t feel responsible for it.

“Hey, Yeong-ah,” Gon said, catching Yeong’s attention as he settled himself back down, snuggling into Gon’s side, “what are you planning to do today, now you’ve got the day off?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, staring into space as he thought about his answer, “stay with you, I guess? We’re not going to the Republic today, are we? Not after… last week.”

Yeong looked up at Gon apologetically – they had hardly mentioned Taeeul after their reconciliation when Luna left, so Gon supposed it was unsurprising that Yeong thought he’d still be upset by her.

He wasn’t, really. If he started thinking for too long about how he had no Queen then he certainly wouldn’t be on top form, but just the concept of not being in a relationship with Taeeul was… fine. It wasn’t like she was who he really wanted, anyway.

Gon gave Yeong a comforting smile to show that it was ok, though Yeong didn’t really look convinced.

“No,” Gon confirmed, “We’re not. But you could, if you wanted. Finally escape me for a few hours,” he laughed, but Yeong didn’t seem to see the funny side.

“I don’t want to escape you, I’m happy staying here,” Yeong told him, and that was all well and good, but Gon knew he needed the break! Gon would be the first to admit that he was a lot to deal with, and Yeong, more than anyone, deserved a break from his antics!

“Are you? Because I plan to spend the day locked in my study, trying to work out the number of atoms in the multiverse. It’s going to be very boring – not for me, of course, but believe it or not I am aware that theoretical physics isn’t really your thing.”

“I don’t mind,” Yeong said, not getting Gon’s point at all, “I actually quite like watching you work.”

The look on Yeong’s face as he said that, his eyes softening and a hint of red reaching his cheeks, was almost enough to make Gon relent. But not quite.

“As much as I’m incredibly flattered by that, are you sure? How often do you get an opportunity like this to just go and do your thing, without me holding you back?”

“Alright.” It was incredible, really, how fast Yeong’s demeanour changed from being content and happy to being cold, and reserved; the look that was so painfully normal for him. Had Gon made a mistake? “I get the hint, Gon. I’ll leave you in peace for a day, don’t worry.”

Shit! No–

“I didn’t mean it like that, Yeong-ah, it’s not that I don’t want you here at all, I’m just worried that you need a proper break, away from your job, you know?”

“It’s fine, Gon,” Yeong sighed, reaching down and squeezing his hand, “after Luna pulled a gun on you I’ve been meaning to kick Shinjae’s ass, anyway. It’ll probably be cathartic.”

“That’s my Yeong-ah,” Gon laughed, pulling Yeong in slightly closer, “always standing up for me, no matter what.”

“He’s had it coming for a while,” Yeong said in his most serious voice, before breaking character to laugh with Gon a few seconds later. “Are you sure you’ll be ok on your own, though?” Yeong then asked, looking up at Gon with wide, worried eyes.

Always, always worried. This was exactly why Yeong needed to get away from it all, and just be.

“I’ll be fine, I promise. If I’m working I’ll probably be so engrossed in the calculations that I won’t even notice anything is different.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Yeong breathed, his eyes going sad again for a split-second, before he noticed Gon looking at him and offered a smile. “You and your maths. It really is true love.”

Not quite, Yeong-ah. Someone far more important than mathematics held Gon’s heart, and Gon was holding him in his arms as they spoke.

“Won’t my future Queen be jealous?” was what he said instead, because there was certainly a chance she would be jealous of Gon’s true love. Taeeul evidently was.

“Incredibly jealous,” Yeong confirmed, trying his best to smile again. It didn’t work. It didn’t meet his eyes.

“Even maths will have to wait, though, because before any of that happens I need to have breakfast with my Yeong-ah,” Gon nudged him, changing the subject in an attempt to ease whatever discomfort Yeong was experiencing. “Do you think we should get it in the room? I don’t really want to move.”

“That’d be nice,” Yeong hummed, reaching his hand over and drawing lazy circles on Gon’s chest, “I wouldn’t mind staying a while longer, making the most of this.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Gon smiled, and Yeong smiled back, slightly more successfully this time. “I’ll let the kitchen know.”

***

So.

Gon wanted him gone, now that they had a day off.

Good to know.

Yeong’s ego needed pushing down a few pegs anyway, as after having that much quality time with Gon he was beginning to think that Gon might have been seriously enjoying his company. In that regard, this little solo trip to Korea was good for him. He needed to re-learn his place, for the – well, he had lost track of how many times it had already been. Apparently one thing Yeong couldn’t do was learn from his mistakes.

It was certainly difficult to remember that he was only a lowly bodyguard when he fell asleep in Gon’s arms every night.

But that was why he had been pushed away today. It was a reminder from the universe that he wasn’t, in fact, Gon’s Prince Consort, and was instead just someone useful that Gon kept around for when he needed comfort or protection.

And Lord knows Gon needed comfort this week. Yeong couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he’d feel if he was in a relationship with Gon, and he wanted to propose, but then Gon chose that moment to break up with him and cast him aside.

Well, in that hypothetical universe Yeong wouldn’t necessarily be surprised about that happening, but it would still be a pain comparable to a gunshot wound through the chest, except this time without the luxury of waking up in Gon’s bed afterwards.

Counting the entry wound, exit wound, and the wound from the incision from the surgery, that gave Yeong a grand total of seventy-six scars, from one thing or another. Yeong didn’t think that was nearly as bad as it sounded – danger was a part of his job, and it wasn’t even like all of them were caused by fights or shootouts. Some of them were from stupid accidents, like trying to climb up the swing set as a child, and falling and catching himself on the sharp edge of one of the bolts holding it together.

He wondered how many scars he’d have if he counted mental ones, too. Most likely a hell of a lot more.

Probably best not to dwell on that. He was fine! ‘Coping’ was pretty much his middle name!

That’s why it was fine that Gon had sent him to Korea on his own. It wasn’t a problem at all, because he’d just keep coping, just like he always did. Gon didn’t want him? No worries, just power through!

And to think Yeong had really believed him when he’d said that he wanted Yeong around. Pah. He should have known better than to be so foolishly optimistic.

At this point, he was hardly even bothered.

That was a lie. He was very bothered.

But he didn’t have time for that right now, he was going to go and see Shinjae and Eunseob and Taeeul, maybe, and he was going to have fun, and he was going to take Gon’s advice and get away from him for a while. Just go and be Jo Yeong, with no stupid feelings attached.

The door to Taeeul’s flat was already open when Yeong arrived, which he found incredibly suspicious. Had someone broken in? Were they in there now?

Yeong reached for his gun – which, ok, he shouldn’t legally have in the Republic, and he also shouldn’t really have brought with him on his day off, but truthfully he felt kind of naked without it – and slowly stalked into the darkened front room, looking for any sign of movement. There weren’t any signs of a struggle, which was positive, and there was no indication that the place had been ransacked, but sometimes it was difficult to tell, so he didn’t lower his guard.

A flash of movement caught Yeong’s eye, and he turned around immediately and pointed his gun at it, trying to get a clearer view of the intruder. They moved again, and Yeong held his ground as they reached their arm up, and – turned on the light switch?

The room erupted into colour, showing balloons, streamers, and a crudely-made banner that said ‘Happy Gon and Taeeul breaking up party!’ And Eunseob’s smiling face near the light switch. And Shinjae in the doorway, looking very pleased with himself.

“What,” Yeong began, putting his gun away after he realised there was never any danger, “and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck is this?”

“Can’t you read the banner?” Eunseob asked, remarkably cheery for someone who was just looking down the barrel of Yeong’s gun, “We’re celebrating Gon and Taeeul breaking up!”

“We honestly weren’t sure if you were going to show up or not,” Shinjae added, “but I’m very pleased you did. I don’t think it would have been the same without you.”

Yeong just stared at the both of them for a good five seconds, soaking all this new information in.

They had thrown a surprise party. For Gon and Taeeul breaking up. Ok. This was fine.

No, it wasn’t fine. In what universe was this fine?

“What kind of bad taste–” Yeong remarked, still unable to quite believe his eyes. “I have been comforting Gon for pretty much a whole solid week because of his breakup, he has been a wreck because of it, and now he has to rethink his entire life plan and start again from scratch to find a queen he wants to be with, and you guys are throwing a party? I can’t believe you! If you had spent even a minute in my shoes, seeing how much the love of my life has been affected by the love of his life wanting to split, you wouldn’t think twice before tearing this all down!”

“He’s really been that hurt by it?” Shinjae asked, “I figured he wouldn’t be so bad, considering…”

“Considering what, Kang Shinjae? Considering how much he’s in love with me? He obviously fucking isn’t, because this morning he decided he’d had enough of me, and sent me off to another damn universe to get some peace of mind! How’s that for true love?”

“Shit, Yeong, I’m sorry,” Shinjae awkwardly said, as Eunseob rushed over and wrapped Yeong into a hug, catching him entirely by surprise.

“What are you doing that for?” Yeong whispered to Eunseob, who appeared to be clinging onto him for dear life, “I ruined your party.”

“Don’t worry about it, Yeongie,” Eunseob whispered back, “we need to take it down before Taeeul gets back, anyway.”

Shinjae joined in the hug soon after that, catching Yeong even more by surprise. Why on Earth were they being so nice to him when he had just been a massive dick to them, insulting this party that they’d evidently put effort into?

“Alright, that’s quite enough,” Yeong protested when he was starting to suffocate, which was really only after a couple of seconds, “let’s just take this shit down and be done with it, if it has to be done before Taeeul gets home anyway.”

And so they did, Yeong finding comfort in the mundane, repetitive task of tidying up. It felt good to do something so obviously rewarding and obviously worthwhile, in stark contrast to his usual thankless, endless work. The banner disappeared first, and then the streamers, and then the balloons, and with the three of them working together it didn’t take long for the room to look – well, not tidy necessarily, but at least the same as usual.

After they were done, Yeong went and sat down on the floor. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for the formality of sitting on an actual chair or sofa designed for sitting, but the floor seemed like a nice, inviting place for a poor old Captain at his limit to sit down. To Yeong’s surprise, the others followed suit and joined him there.

“Sorry,” Shinjae said again, after they had settled, “it didn’t even cross my mind that Gon would have been affected so badly by this whole thing, because Taeeul has been doing surprisingly ok.”

“No shit,” Yeong sighed, rolling his eyes, “she went into last weekend knowing she wanted to break up. Gon went into it wanting to propose.”

“And you were upset about the proposal, last weekend,” Shinjae pointed out, incredibly unhelpfully.

“And it’s upset me even more to see Gon upset for a week. I didn’t know then that there was a worse option to watching him promise to marry someone else.”

“Isn’t this good, though?” Eunseob pointed out, wrong as ever. “He’ll be ok eventually, and now you don’t have to watch him love someone else. I know Shinjae’s been having a great time this week having Taeeul to himself.”

“Oh, I have,” Shinjae confirmed, a giddy smile gracing his lips. “I know she’s fine because she’s been completely unbothered when she thinks I’m not looking, but when I’ve been around she’s put on this act of being ‘so utterly heartbroken, oh Shinjae can’t you please come and give this poor woman some love?’”

“He’s sent me so many pictures,” Eunseob added, rolling his eyes. “They’re so couple-y they’ve honestly been reminding me of myself and Nari.”

“Well yay for you,” Yeong sighed, hanging his head, “getting to start something new and exciting with the woman you love.”

“Haven’t you been spending lots of time with Gon?” Eunseob queried, totally innocently, though Yeong still felt it as a kick in the gut.

“Oh, I have. All damn week, feeling like we’re getting closer and closer, sleeping in the same bed every night – I even moved my stuff into his bathroom, for God’s sake – and even this morning I fell asleep on his chest, but apparently it was all too suffocating for King Lee Gon, and he wanted some time apart. Which is fair enough, I guess, but my broken fantasies are crying out in pain right now.”

“I still don’t know what you see in him,” Shinjae commented, his judgement clear in his tone. “All he ever seems to do is fuck you over.”

“I don’t even know,” Yeong groaned, flopping backwards onto his back and hiding his face with his arms. “I keep trying to tell myself that hanging onto my feelings isn’t worth it, but then he goes and tells me that I’m his favourite person, or that he wants me by his side, and doesn’t want me to consider that he doesn’t want to be close to me because he always will, and then he smiles at me like I’m his everything, and lets me feed him kimchi, and holds me close to him like he actually never wants to let me go, and every single time that happens I fall back into the trap of thinking that maybe he really does care. And then all of a sudden he does something unexpected, like today where he kicked me out, and I’m left wondering whether any of it meant anything at all.”

“Is that what really happened today?” Eunseob probed, his concern evident. “He kicked you out because he was sick of you?”

“Well, he made up some bullshit excuse about wanting to give me a break from my job, but basically yes. He even said that he wouldn’t even notice I was gone.” Yeong laughed, a short, pained laugh, which he used to try and tell himself he wasn’t completely wrecked over this whole thing. “He said that while we were cuddling in his bed this morning. If he can’t even be bothered to admit he acknowledges me in an environment like that, then where would he?”

“Have you considered that maybe he meant his ‘bullshit’ excuse?” Eunseob offered, gently reaching out an arm in comfort, but the action of which just made Yeong feel worse.

“Then why would he say he wouldn’t notice my absence?”

“Maybe he was trying to reassure you that he’d be ok to let you go for a few hours. Gon’s bad at communicating like a normal person sometimes, but I’ve noticed he does normally mean well. I think he was worried that you’d be worried about him, especially if you’ve spent the past week glued to his side, making sure he’s feeling ok. You do worry about him a lot.”

“Or he’s just an asshole,” Yeong refuted, unwilling to let himself believe Eunseob’s words. He was not going to fall into the trap of believing Gon’s nice words ever again. He wasn’t.

“For once, I’m going to have to disagree,” Shinjae chimed in, making Yeong’s mental protection so much easier, thanks so much Kang Shinjae. “He’s definitely a dick sometimes, but he does care about you a hell of a lot. Not even Taeeul got the same kind of warm looks from him as you do, nor the same amount of tender care. She got kisses, sure, but never hugs that lingered long after they should have ended. Never the kind of treatment where he’d drop everything to wait for her when she was injured, pacing up and down beside the bed and having to be pretty much physically dragged around if he was needed anywhere else. I think… don’t read too much into today. I sincerely doubt he’s just turned round after a week of clearly loving you and gone ‘right! I don’t care about Yeong anymore. I’m going to send him away to another universe because I hate his presence.’ It wouldn’t make any sense for him to do that.”

“Stop that,” Yeong sighed, trying desperately to keep the fight within him alive, “if you keep going like that, you might just convince me that I’m wrong.”

“Wow, Yeong,” Shinjae mock-gasped, “it’s almost as if that’s the whole point.”

“I hate you sometimes, you know that?”

Shinjae laughed. “That means it’s working.”

“Fine,” Yeong conceded with a groan, “but if I get my heart drastically broken again, then that’s on you. And you don’t want an angry Jo Yeong coming after your guts.”

“Believe me, I know. Have you pulled your gun on all of us, now?”

“I don’t think he’s pulled a gun on Nari, yet,” Eunseob chimed in, talking in that dreamy voice that he only reserved for his girlfriend.

“I’ll have to fix that,” Yeong joked, earning a shove in the side from Eunseob.

“If you threaten Nari, I’ll–” he started, finding himself at a loss for words for his empty threat.

“You’ll what? I could take you, easy, and I know you know that.”

“I’ll make you look after the twins for a day! And I’ll tip Eun-bi off that something’s gonna be weird, so she’ll be scrutinising you all day long, so you’ll have to be me perfectly for a whole day. You’ll even have to smile.”

“That’s cold, Eunseob,” Yeong remarked, as he suddenly became aware that maybe he was relaxing, just a smidge. “Firstly, how dare you put me in hell. Secondly, I could hack it anyway, I did it for weeks while you were doing a very lazy impression of me in a hospital bed. I got shot without a vest on, and I was travelling between universes on the day I woke up.” Eunseob tried to protest about that not being healthy, but Yeong ignored him, enjoying being able to let loose like this far too much to be bothered. “Thirdly, I do smile. I’d probably smile quite a lot if I found I had reason to.”

“Yeah, Eunseob, haven’t you seen him when he’s with Gon?” Shinjae butted in, and though Yeong couldn’t see the grin on his face, he knew that it was there. “Smiles all over. He’s like a completely different guy.”

It was getting harder and harder for Yeong to keep his guard up about Gon. Joking about it with friends – talking with Seungah about him and making up fantastical scenarios was one thing, and he did enjoy it a lot – it was completely different. Almost… normal. That was what normal friends did, wasn’t it? Poke fun at their friends’ crushes?

Of course, Yeong’s feelings for Gon had progressed far past the realm of ‘crush’ a long time ago, but the point still stood. Though it was definitely annoying, it was good annoying, like when Gon teased Yeong about his height despite him really not being short, or when Gon threatened to behead him when Yeong had to force him to get out of bed to get to events, or–

“Look, he’s doing it now!” Shinjae exclaimed, pointing his finger right in Yeong’s face. “You’re thinking about him now, aren’t you?”

“I definitely hate you,” Yeong gave as answer, his persisting smile revealing how much he didn’t mean it. Not enough to encourage him to resort to physical violence, anyway.

“You’re really whipped, aren’t you?” Shinjae remarked, like a massive hypocrite.

“As if you’re not worse,” Yeong made sure to point out, leaning up slightly so he could see the outraged look on Shinjae’s face. “I just need to mention the name Jeong Taeeul, and–”

And Shinjae was smiling, a small but definite hint of a blush staining his cheeks.

“You both need to confess already,” Eunseob groaned, leaning back to lie down on the floor with Yeong. “You both go on and on about how in love you are, but as soon as you’re actually with the people you’re in love with, not a word. It went fine for me, and now I get to spend my days giving my beautiful Nari all the love she could ever want.”

“Please,” Shinjae said, “you can hardly lecture us when you technically never actually did the confessing. You in the new timeline just happened to have done it by the time we reset, so you basically got a free girlfriend without putting in any of the necessary work.”

“Well I obviously had the potential to do it, so my point still stands. It’s very freeing to be in the relationship, so I say you should just go for it. And then even if they say no, at least they know how much you love them. What could possibly go wrong?”

Oh, if only Eunseob had seen Yeong when he thought Gon had found out. There was no way in hell he was putting himself through that again – and that time Gon didn’t even really know! Imagine the consequences if Yeong was sure Gon knew!

“You know what?” Shinjae mused, “Maybe I will. Give her time to get over Gon properly – I don’t want to just be a rebound – but you’re right, what could go wrong?”

“She says no,” Yeong informed him, completely deadpan. “Because she now knows, she’s worried that this whole time you’ve been using your friendship to try and get in her pants, which will make her incredibly uncomfortable being around you. You, too, will also be uncomfortable, as you’ll be analysing your every action, trying to make sure it doesn’t come across as you coming onto her, lest you make her any more uncomfortable that she already is. This, however, is a setup that can’t last, and eventually it’ll all get too much for her and she’ll kick you out of her flat, leaving you with nowhere to stay, no job, very little money, no family to call for help, and to top it all off, a broken heart.”

“What,” Shinjae breathed, “the fuck. Was that?”

“It’s what could go wrong, if you tell her,” Yeong told him, not feeling any sort of emotion about it. He had spent far longer mapping out far worse worst-case scenarios for himself, so Shinjae’s seemed pretty tame in comparison. “It probably won’t come to that – you have a great connection with her, and she’ll most likely be open to trying a relationship with you, and even if not she’ll still probably like having you around enough not to mind that you’d prefer a romantic relationship – but it’s still a possibility.”

“Again,” Shinjae emphasised, “what the fuck?”

“It’s part of my job description to be aware of and plan for worst-case scenarios. Don’t take it to heart, my predictions rarely end up coming true. But sometimes they do, so it’s best to be prepared anyway. Do you have someone else you can stay with if confessing your feelings goes badly?”

“I haven’t thought of that, because I’m a normal human being. Are you telling me you have a contingency plan if confessing to Gon doesn’t go the way you want?”

“Of course not. I’m never going to confess.”

“Oh, Jo Yeong,” Shinjae sighed, joining Yeong and Eunseob lying down on the floor, “I long for the day I’ll be able to understand you. Do you really never want to give it a shot?”

“Never in a million years,” Yeong confirmed, more sure of that than he had been about anything else in his life. “Trust me, I’ve spent fifteen years doing the risk assessment, it’s really not worth it.”

“The fact that you’ve done a risk assessment proves that you’re already overthinking it,” Shinjae pointed out, full of blasé confidence.

“The fact that your relationship is completely socially acceptable means that the risk for yours is a lot lower,” Yeong reminded him. “Believe me, if I was a woman I’d have confessed to him years ago. But no, I got dealt the shit hand of being a closeted homosexual under a ton of public scrutiny anyway, without the added bonus of being in love with a straight guy who just so happens to be the actual fucking King of Corea.”

“Yeongie–” Eunseob started, but Yeong was on a roll, and there was no way he was going to stop there.

“I know what you’re going to say. ‘Didn’t you say that you actually have LGBT rights in the Kingdom?’ And yes, that’s true, and technically I shouldn’t legally be allowed to be fired for my sexuality, but unfortunately we live in the age of technology, and Gon always has to be governed by the court of public opinion, so if pretty much the whole country is asking for the weak-ass fucking queer to be removed from his position guarding the King, then who is he to disagree? While we certainly have rights in the Kingdom, it doesn’t mean that everyone’s opinions actually match them. The parliament is a disgrace, to be honest – Koo Seoryeong, for all her flaws, was at least trying to implement some positive changes, but she never even got close to being Prime Minister in this timeline, and now she’s in prison. I know for a fact that a good proportion of those guys would have me out in a second if they found out I wasn’t a perfect, strong, heterosexual young man.”

“Yeong,” Eunseob tried again, “seriously–”

“What? I need to have a little pride? I’m perfect just the way I am? Please. I’m not trying to put myself down, I’m just saying that I can’t be so reckless about disclosing my dirty feelings for King Lee Gon because there are a lot of very powerful people in my country that would tear me down because of them, and that’s just a fact.”

“No, Yeongie.” Eunseob seemed nervous. Why was he nervous? “Look up.”

A thousand possible scenarios running through his brain, each one worse than the last, raced through Yeong’s mind as he hastily pulled himself up to a sitting position.

Was it a bomb? A Corean paparazzo? A Corean paparazzo with a bomb?

It couldn’t be Gon, he couldn’t get through to Korea without the Manpasikjeok, right?

Thankfully not. When Yeong sat up, it was only Taeeul, standing in the doorway with a grocery bag in each hand, staring at Yeong with wide eyes.

Oh. It was Taeeul.

It was Taeeul.

Gon’s ex-girlfriend, Jeong Taeeul!

Fucking goddamn shit fuck!

She was the second-to-last person Yeong ever wanted to find out! And just after she had broken up with Gon too – she didn’t want to be reminded of him! Definitely not in a romantic context!

Yeong hoped whatever cosmic super-being was turning his life into such a joke was getting a real good laugh out of this, because then at least someone would be having a good time right now.

A silence fell across the room as Yeong stared at Taeeul, and Taeeul stared back at him, and Shinjae and Eunseob passed awkward glances between each other.

This was it. This was the day that Yeong was going to die.

He knew it was going to happen early – if the mortal danger from his job didn’t kill him, then the stress surely would – but somehow he never thought that this was going to be how it ended. Figured he at least had a couple more years left in him, after surviving Cheonjongo.

“Yeong,” Taeeul eventually said, securing Yeong’s morbid fate, “can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” he replied, because if he was going to get brutally murdered today, he wasn’t sure he thought it was worth trying to put up a fight to stop it.

Besides. It was his day off, apparently. He wasn’t going to fight on his day off.

So, resigning himself to his very short destiny, Yeong got up and followed Taeeul into her bedroom after she dropped her bags off in the kitchen, brushing off Eunseob’s whisper of “Good luck!” before he got out of earshot.

Taeeul closed the door, and they were alone. The perfect environment for axe murder. Or maybe she’d be more creative about it than that – she must have seen lots of murders in her time, Yeong realised, so it wasn’t a stretch to assume she’d have the necessary knowledge to recreate one.

After she shut the door, she walked towards him with purpose – a stabbing, maybe? – the determined glint in her eye keeping Yeong rooted to the spot out of curiosity more than anything else. When she got close enough, she threw her arms around Yeong, pulling him in close to her chest.

Suffocation, then? Gon must have told her about what his uncle did to him in Cheonjongo, so with that in mind, this method of death was rather fitting. Kill him with Gon’s worst nightmare.

But wait. Yeong wasn’t suffocating. He could breathe, quite easily actually. Then what–

Oh. Taeeul was giving him a hug. That’s what this was.

Huh.

Why the ever-loving fuck was she doing that? Yeong had just ranted on and on about the trials and tribulations of being in love with her ex, the man that she had just broken up with! It wasn’t a stretch from the way he was talking to assume that he’d been in love with him for a good while, so she should be positively fuming that Yeong had the audacity to be in love with Gon at the same time she was. She should at least be disappointed in him for hanging onto his futile feelings, despite knowing that Gon would never return them.

Yeong had spent the past half a year or so glaring at Jeong Taeeul, for God’s sake. Why on Earth was she being so kind to him now?

Tentatively, Yeong reached his arms round her body, gently placing them there in a feeble imitation of comfort because he was ultimately still incredibly confused about this whole ordeal, and didn’t want to commit himself fully to something he wasn’t sure about. This could still turn into suffocation, for all he knew. She still had time.

“How long?” Taeeul whispered, and Yeong knew exactly what she meant.

“Fifteen years.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed, pulling Yeong in closer, but still not suffocating him. Maybe he was going to survive today, after all.

“I’m sorry,” Yeong sighed, “I should have kept it to myself better. Please believe me when I say that I know up until last weekend he was yours – I never made any plans to infringe upon your relationship. At the end of the day, I’m happy if he is.”

That’s what he told himself, anyway. That’s what he had to keep telling himself, so he wouldn’t see the past half of his life as a total waste of time.

“That’s… not at all what this is about,” Taeeul told him, breaking away from the hug to look at him properly. Yeong met her gaze, intrigued more than anything else. Maybe it should have concerned him how little emotion he was feeling about this whole interaction. Unfortunately, he didn’t have it in him to care. “I – where do I even start?”

“Assure me you’re not homophobic before you let me down gently and tell me I’ll never have a shot? Believe me, I’m well aware. I don’t need someone else to tell me that.”

“I’m not even sure I fully agree with that, but no, that’s not what I was going to say anyway. More along the lines of – I’m sorry, Yeong, if I hurt you.” She sounded genuine. Looked it too; there was a strange, caring look in her eyes as she spoke to him. No wonder Gon fell for her. She would have done an incredible job of making sure he felt loved.

“No need to worry,” Yeong brushed her off, trying to muster a smile that only half worked, “you wouldn’t be the first.”

“That doesn’t make it any more ok!” she protested, as if Yeong gave a shit.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he informed her, actually managing the smile this time. “You fell in love, and you did it for yourself. You shouldn’t have worried about my feelings even if you did know I had them, because I never had a chance, but you loved him, and he loved you. Why wouldn’t you be his girlfriend?”

“I suppose you’re right–”

“I am right.”

“–but I still feel bad. Especially when I knew for a long time that nothing serious would ever come out of our relationship, but I still stayed in it anyway. I don’t know what I was expecting would happen, really. He was very clear about wanting to take me back to the Kingdom to be his Queen, but I knew from the outset that I would hate that. And yet somehow, I still let myself fall for him. Even though I knew it wouldn’t last.”

“I get that,” Yeong said, and he did. “He sweeps you off your feet, and shows you the world, and even when you know you can’t have him, you can’t help but want him anyway. It’s funny, he doesn’t believe in magic, but in that regard he’s the most magical person I know.”

Taeeul sat down on the bed, and patted the space on the duvet next to her to indicate she wanted Yeong to sit there. He did, and she put her arm around his waist, pulling him in close to her side.

“So this is why you knew so much about what you would do if Gon was your boyfriend,” she remembered. Yeong laughed to himself, having completely forgotten he did that after everything else that had happened since then.

“Yes, it is. I’m surprised you didn’t call me out back then, to be honest.”

“I did wonder,” she confessed, glancing over at Yeong with a guilty smile on her lips.

“I’m not surprised. I went very much overboard. Unfortunately because I tend to keep a lot of my feelings to myself a lot of the time, when I get invited to share them it’s like a mental floodgate has been opened, and I can’t stop them all coming out at once.”

“Do you want to talk about him more, then?” she asked, impressing Yeong with her naïveté.

Seriously, who the hell asked for a feeling dump? She couldn’t really care about all Yeong’s angsty crap, so why was she bothering to be polite?

“I always do,” was what he said instead, because his selfish mind was jumping at the chance to be listened to, “but I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Begin at the beginning, then,” she told him. “Was it difficult when he took me home?”

What a question, Jeong Taeeul. What a question.

Wasn’t the answer obvious?

“Does it matter?” was how Yeong ended up responding. It didn’t matter. It was done, now, and Yeong sincerely doubted Gon would want to go back and change that aspect of the past.

“I suppose not,” she conceded, before adding, “but I am curious. Not in a ‘I want to find out the gossip’ way, but in a ‘I want to be able to give you the right amount of support’ sort of way.”

“Do I need support? It already happened, and it happened a while ago. And honestly, looking back, it was probably a positive experience for me.”

Was that the truth, or a lie he was telling himself? Yeong wasn’t entirely sure.

“Positive?” she queried, evidently believing Yeong as much as he did himself.

“I learnt some important things that day, when you came into our world, riding on Lady Maximus in Gon’s arms. Up until that point – I’m sure you’re well aware that Gon didn’t have any dating history, before you came into the picture. Neither of us had anyone, really, no other people our age that we ever got close to, in a romantic sense or even in a friendship sense. We were close, though, or at least I thought we were. Over the years I even began to wonder whether Gon might have been… like me, you know? He’s under far more scrutiny than I am, and far more pressure to find a girlfriend, and eventually a wife, so I figured that because he had gone so long without even bothering to so much as flirt with the plethora of attractive women that came his way, maybe he too might have been harbouring secret feelings for his best friend.”

“That makes sense,” Taeeul noted. Maybe she thought agreeing with him would make him feel better.

It didn’t.

“I thought so,” he said anyway, not wanting to make her feel any worse than she already was for an action she really didn’t need to be apologetic about. “I used to fantasise about him catching me before I went home from work one day, after all the other guards had left, and telling me he’d always had feelings for me but was too afraid to tell me until now, for fear of what people would say. And then I’d assure him that I’d be there for him whatever happened, and I’d tell him that I loved him too, and then we’d hug, or kiss, maybe, letting out years and years’ worth of pent up emotions in a beautiful declaration of freedom and love. It’s childish, I know, but I desperately wanted it anyway. But then he disappeared, and after what felt like years of worrying about him, and trying to find out where he was, and far more tears than I’d like to admit, he came back with you.

“I learnt two things, that day, when I saw you in the woods. The first was that I had been wrong about Gon’s secret feelings. The reason he was never interested in any women wasn’t because he was ever in love with me, it was because he was always in love with you, and was waiting for you to come into his life. It wasn’t like he hadn’t shown me your ID card, so I knew exactly who you were, but until you showed up I never actually believed you were real. No offence. I also never thought Gon really believed you were real either, so whenever he said that he wanted to marry you I always thought that he was joking, or trying to stall for time and stave off any unwanted intrusive questions. Apparently I was wrong, and he really had been holding out for you the whole time, and I had spent my whole life twisting his words into something I wanted them to mean.

“The second thing happened a few moments later, when Gon told the Royal Guard to stand back, and I didn’t, partially because I was still in shock from my first revelation, but mostly because I thought I was different. If he ever did bring a girl home, I thought he’d at least want to introduce me to her as his friend, but that wasn’t the case at all. The other thing I learnt was that when it all came down to it, Gon would always just see me as staff, and nothing more. Just another faceless guard, one amongst many. I wasn’t ever special, and now that he had you I would never be special. Hell, I learned later on that I could be replaced by Eunseob and he’d be fine with it. And I had spent the past twenty-five years of my life thinking that I was irreplaceable to the King of Corea. I don’t know how I could have ever let myself be so foolish.”

When Yeong took a breath, he noticed it was shakier than he realised. There might have also been a tear running down his cheek that he hadn’t noticed slip out, so he wiped it anyway, just in case.

He wasn’t still upset by this. They were facts, and he’d had months to get used to them. It was pathetic that he was still struggling to get his head around them, and still kept slipping and believing they might be false.

Gon didn’t care. That was always the truth of the matter. He did not care. And Yeong couldn’t trust himself to be able to tell the difference, because he’d spent twenty-five years of his life getting it wrong.

Any time he thought that Gon thought he was more than an asset, a weapon to be used and tossed aside, he was always going to be wrong. He meant nothing to King Lee Gon. Even women he’d only known truly existed for a few days were worth more to Gon than him.

Yeong hastily wiped away another stray tear, and then another. He was not going to cry about this again. Not in front of Taeeul. Not anyway. He was stronger than that.

He was meant to be unbreakable. Gon’s Unbreakable Sword.

Swords didn’t have feelings. Yeong didn’t have feelings. Not ones that mattered.

Suck it up, Jo Yeong! Suck it the fuck up! Taeeul was doing this out of courtesy, not because she actually cared, so you should be making this interaction as easy for her as possible, and that involved not making her feel bad for you!

Yeong was feeling upset because of his own mistake, and it wasn’t up to Taeeul to try and fix that. Yeong’s emotions were something he had to regulate on his own. Something that he should be better at regulating, after having had thirty years of practice. Almost thirty-one, now.

Taeeul tried to pull him closer, but Yeong shuffled himself away, shooting her a glare to put her off trying anything else of the sort.

“Yeong,” she started, her unnecessary worry evident in the tremor in her voice, “are you–”

“I’m fine. Please don’t make it worse.”

“Worse?”

“You broke my heart, Jeong Taeeul!” Yeong laughed, though he wasn’t sure how much of it was secret crying disguising itself as laughter. He also wasn’t sure why he was saying this – he blamed himself, blamed himself, this wasn’t Taeeul’s felt, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel incredibly cathartic. “Everything I’d built up in my head, every good thing I used to tell myself to make my loveless life a little bit easier, you rode in and shattered it all! And I had to pretend like everything was fine, always pretend like everything was fine because I wasn’t meant to be feeling these feelings at all, and Gon expected me to support him, and I did, I really did support him! I supported you, too! I did everything I was supposed to do, and got kicked to the side as reward! I got the knowledge that the one person I thought actually gave a shit about me didn’t really care at all! And it’s not even your fault, it’s not even Gon’s fault, it’s mine for letting myself believe I might actually be worth it. I’ve fixed that now, though. I know I’m not, and I’ve made peace with that.”

Yeong’s cheeks were wet again, so he wiped them as best he could before giving Taeeul a smile.

He was fine. He was fine. Gon didn’t care, and that was ok. He shouldn’t care, really. Why would the King care about a lowly, replaceable employee? Yeong was well below Gon’s station, and he should never have expected to get anything from him.

It was Yeong’s job to serve his King. To give, without ever expecting anything back in return. He deserved to be beheaded for even thinking that he might deserve otherwise.

Taeeul was crying, Yeong noticed, once he could finally bring himself to look at her. Quiet, contained tears, that fell down her face and splashed on her legs, making tiny dark marks on the trousers there.

That was Yeong’s fault. He shouldn’t have lashed out at her, no matter how cathartic it was. Not when he really only had himself to blame.

Stupid, stupid, fuck-up Jo Yeong. This was why sharing his feelings was a bad idea. They were always too much, and always did more harm than good.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and why was she apologising? Yeong had hurt her, she was allowed to cry! “I – I can’t help it, I’ve been in the police force for years, spoken to so many different people, but I’ve never – you are worth it, Yeong! And I’m really, really sorry that I’ve made you feel like you’re not.”

“You didn’t make me feel anything,” Yeong informed her, trying to keep his voice as calm and as level as possible, “you just happened to be the catalyst I needed to help me realise the truth. It could have been anyone, or anything, really. My reality was always going to be the same.”

“But it’s not reality!” she protested, leaning forward and grabbing hold of his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Of courseyou’re worth it, and nobody knows that more than Gon. He never shuts up about you! I – I was in his bed, covered head to toe in injuries after escaping from Lee Lim’s men, and he couldn’t deny it when I joked that he liked you more than me. When we were out on dates, just the two of us, we ended up talking about you. Every time, without fail. You are everything to him, far more than I ever was.”

“That’s a nice thought,” Yeong mused, letting down his walls an inch to enable him to let the sentiment briefly warm his heart, “but I’m afraid I can’t let myself believe it. I’ve been down that path before, and I get hurt every single time. It’s not going to happen again.”

“Would you believe it if it came from Gon?” she asked, a fire of determination sparking behind her eyes.

Yeong considered for a moment. “I’m not sure. Maybe I’d be more likely to believe it, but at this point I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to accept it from anyone.”

“But is he the most likely?” she pressed, not backing down.

“Yes.” That was probably true. “I tend to trust that people can only really be certain about their own feelings, so I suppose it would have to be him if I wanted to believe that he might care.”

“Right.” Taeeul got up and strode over to her bedside table where a notebook lay, before tearing out a page and scribbling furiously on it with a pen she took out of her pocket. After she was done, she folded it up and held it out to Yeong, looking more confident than she had done before during this whole interaction. “Give this to him,” she instructed Yeong, “and don’t worry, I’m not telling him to do anything to pander to you. These are instructions for him to tell you something he has already told me. I just want you to hear it from him directly.”

Hesitantly, Yeong took it, putting it in his own pocket and making sure it was secure. It was still odd, he thought, that she was even getting so worked up about helping him.

Maybe it was too good to be true. Maybe she was pretending to be nice to his face, just to make it hurt more when she made Yeong give Gon instructions to confirm that he really didn’t care at all.

That would make far more sense. It was a truth that fit far closer to the information Yeong already had.

“Go back to him,” she ordered, when Yeong made no moves to react after receiving the note. “I don’t think I can stand the thought of you thinking so many wrong things for much longer.”

Ah. There it was. She couldn’t stand him. That sounded more like she was talking about Jo Yeong.

“Alright,” Yeong conceded, “I’ll get out of your hair. Thank you for putting up with me for so long,” he said as he got up and bowed, before leaving the room.

He ignored Eunseob and Shinjae’s attempts to talk to him. He ignored how Shinjae stopped trying when Taeeul left the room too, instead choosing to tell her that he’d packed away all her groceries for her, so she didn’t need to worry about those anymore.

He ignored how Taeeul told the others to leave him be, and the fact that they did just that, without bothering to question it.

Yeong shut the door behind him as he left, and headed back to the Kingdom, leaving one foreign world for another where he was just was wanted.

Gon would most likely be disappointed that Yeong hadn’t let him work uninterrupted for a few more hours. Yeong always had been a nuisance, ever since Gon had met him. No wonder he had preferred Taeeul in a matter of days.

Taeeul’s note sat burning through his pocket and onto his skin, sending a slowly-spreading sense of dread coursing through his veins.

Yeong couldn’t shake the sense that he was willingly signing himself up for pain, and was agreeing to it without a second thought.

No, that wasn’t it. He had already done that, twenty-six years ago, when he let a crying king dub him his Unbreakable Sword.

***

Gon had definitely made a mistake, when he sent Yeong to the other world.

Well, objectively no. He didn’t regret making the decision to give Yeong some time off, away from him, because Yeong desperately needed some time away from Corea to relax. That much, Gon was certain of.

But the problem was that he had got incredibly used to being spoiled with Yeong’s love and attention this past week, and being without him, even just for a couple of hours, was unbearable. He couldn’t concentrate on his calculations at all, because his attention kept getting drawn to the gaping Yeong-shaped hole by his side. In the end he’d given up trying to calculate the number of atoms in the multiverse, finding it far too difficult, and instead decided to work through some of his favourite problems again, to try and find a little bit of comfort in their familiarity.

It only half-worked.

How on Earth had he managed to go without Yeong by his side for a whole day while he was still on injury leave?

How on Earth was he going to be able to manage to hold out until Yeong came back, presumably quite late on this evening?

Gon didn’t believe in Hell, but if he did then he imagined that being there would feel something like this.

A knock sounded on the door to his study. Someone worried that he hadn’t had anything to drink for the past couple of hours, maybe? While his study door was locked, the palace staff were annoyingly aware that sometimes he could go for days without food or drink or sleep if he was left uninterrupted, so they always made a point of interrupting.

“Gon?” came the weak voice from behind the door, a couple of seconds after the knock. “Are you in there?”

There was only one person in the Kingdom – in this entire universe – that called him Gon.

Perhaps he should have been worried that Yeong was home a lot earlier than expected, but Gon was too elated to care. He rushed over to open the door with a joyous cry of “Yeong-ah!” before enveloping his favourite person in a crushing hug.

Yeong just stood there, unresponsive. That wasn’t a good sign.

Suddenly concerned about what could have possibly happened in the time between his departure and his subsequent arrival, Gon pushed Yeong back to arm’s distance, taking a good, proper look at his friend.

‘Bleak’ was the first word that came to Gon’s mind. Then ‘spent,’ and ‘hollow.’

That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.

What in the goddamn fuck had happened in Korea?

“Sorry I’m back early,” Yeong muttered, barely loud enough for Gon to hear. “I know you wanted to have the day to yourself, but Taeeul insisted on my leaving. She wrote you a note,” he added, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, which he then handed to Gon.

Gon took it and read it, his sense of dread growing with every word.

Hey asshole

Yeong thinks you don’t love him. More than that actually – he thinks you don’t care about him at all.

CHANGE HIS MIND!!!

“Yeong-ah,” Gon said slowly, trying to control his breathing to make sure he stayed calm, “before I say anything, can I ask you something?”

Yeong shrugged, so Gon took that as his sign to continue.

Bracing himself for the sort of answer he knew was going to come his way, Gon then asked, “How do you think I feel about you? And I want you to be completely honest with me – no telling me what you think I want to hear, tell me what you think, honestly, when you try and imagine an answer to that question.”

“So Taeeul is getting you to pander to me,” Yeong laughed to himself, though it felt more like a sigh than a laugh. “I figured as much.”

“She’s not doing anything of the sort, Yeong-ah,” Gon assured him, getting more worried by the second. “Her note was actually very vague when it came to telling me what I should do. I can say with every confidence that this is all me.”

“Sure.” Yeong frowned, and Gon could have sworn he felt the rip that tore in his heart.

“Yeong-ah,” he pushed, “can you answer my question, please?”

“I don’t think you’re going to like the answer.”

“Tell me anyway. There won’t be any repercussions.” Gon shut the door behind Yeong, giving them some privacy. “It’s just us now,” he added, “Just Gon, and Just Yeong. Telling me won’t affect a thing.”

“Alright,” Yeong conceded, taking a shaky breath before he finally looked Gon in the eye and told him, “I think I’m useful, up to a point. I try to be useful, anyway, so I hope I’ve achieved at least that. I think I’m useful because I’m good at my job, and my constant presence throughout your life has meant you’ve had to get used to me, so we certainly have a relationship imitating friendship, with inside jokes and such-like. However, at the end of the day I’m staff, and you’re my employer. I could be replaced and you’d still have someone to protect you, and someone to spend time with. It’s improper, and somewhat foolish of me to consider that I am anything more than an employee, and that you–” he winced slightly, before saying “–that you care about me as a person, rather than a sword you don’t want to break.”

Yeong tried to smile, but the trembling of his bottom lip gave away his very obvious true feelings.

Oh, Gon had fucked up. He had fucked up real bad, if this was what Yeong thought of their relationship.

He didn’t even think Gon thought of him as a person, let alone the person that Gon loved more than anyone else in the world.

Tears sprang to Gon’s eyes before he could really comprehend the gravity of the situation. It was one thing to hear it from Taeeul’s note, but to hear it from Yeong’s mouth that he thought Gon didn’t even care–

“I love you,” he blurted, unable to say anything else. “I love you, Yeong-ah.”

“No, you don’t,” Yeong laughed, a hint of mania tainting his voice as he pointed an accusing finger at Gon and strode over to Gon’s desk, putting some distance between the two of them. “You don’t. You can’t just say things like that after you sent me away to another universe because you were fed up of me.”

“Fed up of you?” Gon exclaimed, hurriedly following him, “I was trying to give you a break! I know how stressful I can be, and I know you’d push yourself to your limit and then further still if you thought that was what I wanted, so I wanted to make sure you got some time away – some Yeong-time, where you didn’t have to worry about me! I wasn’t fed up with you at all! I’ve loved every second we’ve spent together this week, and I’d live like that forever if I was being selfish and I thought we could!”

“Then why did you say you wouldn’t notice I was gone? Why would you tell me that, if I was meant to believe that you – that you–”

“I was lying, Yeong-ah! I knew you wouldn’t go if you thought I was going to be in any way negatively affected by your absence, so I lied to make sure you’d go through with it! But I noticed, Yeong-ah. I could hardly concentrate because all I could think was that you weren’t there, and it was killing me. You have no idea – absolutely no idea – how much I was willing the clocks to tick faster, just so I could see you again.”

“You still don’t,” Yeong protested, turning away from Gon. “I can’t let myself believe that you do. It’s easier for me – safer for me – just to assume that no one cares. It’s usually true. Keeps my hopes down, so that it doesn’t hurt when I’m eventually cast aside because I’ve outlived my usefulness. I got lucky with Taeeul. Managed to scrape a few more years of fantasy before you find your new favourite person.”

“You were always my favourite person–”

“Was I?” Yeong turned around, and a couple of tears were running down his cheeks. Gon wasn’t sure if Yeong had noticed. “Was I really your favourite when you’d just brought the love of your life back home, ready to sweep her off her feet and give her the world, and I wasn’t even important enough to be introduced to her as anything more than another Royal Guard! It was all fine for you, you had a pretty face to impress and have a beautiful, romantic moment with, but as thanks for being worried sick about you when you disappeared off the face of the planet, I got the wonderful gift of the knowledge that I was being demoted from your closest friend, your favourite person, to just another faceless employee.”

“Yeong-ah–”

“And you know what? I’m fine with that. It’s not like it changes anything. I was still going to devote my life to you regardless, because I – I care so much about you, Lee Gon. So it was fine. It is fine. You can do anything with me that you see fit, and I’ll do it because I want you to be happy, no questions asked. Even if you don’t care about me, so what? It wouldn’t be the fucking first time someone didn’t, and it sure as hell won’t be the last. You don’t need to worry about giving a shit, because I’ll stay with you anyway. No need to put any effort into it, because you’ll have me regardless until the day you tell me never to come back.”

“Is that your pitch, Yeong-ah?” Gon asked gravely, desperately fighting the urge to do something rash and undoubtedly make the situation worse.

“If you’re asking me if I’ve finished saying what I want to say, then yes. You don’t need to make up any bullshit like a love confession to get me to stay by your side. That’s just a given anyway.”

“Ok.” Gon nodded, making sure he was careful and composed as he took a step forward and began to reach out a hand.

Yeong flinched.

Yeong flinched.

If Gon wasn’t trying any harder to keep himself together, he would have sunk to his knees and sobbed, just at the sight of that.

Instead, he asked “Please?” and after a moment’s hesitation, Yeong nodded, letting Gon’s thumb gently caress his cheek as he looked in Yeong’s eyes and told him, “I’m sorry, Yeong-ah.”

Yeong tightly shut his eyes, scrunching up his face as he turned it away, in what appeared to be a last-ditch attempt to stay strong.

“I made a mistake,” Gon continued, hoping Yeong was listening. “I made so many mistakes. I made a mistake today, by asking you to leave, and I’m sorry. I made a mistake when I brought Taeeul home, and I’m so, so incredibly sorry. I could stand here and list excuses, say that I was just trying to protect her, or even that I was trying to impress her by being all commanding and king-like, but none of that really matters. Not when I’ve apparently ruined the best thing I’ve ever had.”

At that, Yeong looked up, his wide eyes shining with a distinct, unmistakable wetness.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, Yeong-ah. Knowing what I know now, I’m not sure I can expect you to ever believe what I’m about to say, but I’m going to say it anyway because there’s not much more left that I can do. Jo Yeong, Captain Jo, my Unbreakable Sword, I love you. You’re my best friend, Yeong-ah, my soulmate, and I hold you in such high regard that I can’t even fathom myself just how much I love you. I’ve always loved you – ever since you came to find me after my coronation, I’ve spent all that time loving you. God, Yeong-ah, you’re everything to me. Absolutely everything. My life is so much better than it could have been, just for the simple fact that you’re in it, and I’m so sorry that I’ve let you go this long thinking you don’t mean anything to me, because the truth is the exact opposite of that.”

The corners of Yeong’s mouth kept tugging down, though he kept pulling them back up again. He looked away from Gon again after he’d finished talking, tugging on the ends of his sleeves with his hands, and shuffling his feet uncomfortably as he pulled himself together.

Even the fact that he was still trying to keep composure was slowly driving a knife through Gon’s burning heart. He didn’t need to do that – he didn’t need to keep on being strong, when he every reason and every right not to be.

“Why?” Yeong eventually whispered, looking down at the floor. “Why do you–” he choked, slapping a shaking hand over his mouth before he could bring himself to say that Gon loved him.

“Do I need a reason? There aren’t any conditions to my love for you, Yeong-ah, I just love you. You’re just you, you just exist and my heart bursts with warmth. You smile, and I feel like the luckiest man in the multiverse to be able to witness it. I meet your eyes, and I want to hold you close and keep you with me, so that I may experience the lofty heights of happiness that I only begin to reach when I’m with you. How can I take a reductionist approach to loving you, how can I hope to break it down into its constituent parts to try and put together a causal explanation when loving you is holistic, and seeps into every part of my life, so much so that I can’t even imagine what I’d feel if I didn’t love you?”

“Isn’t it difficult?” Yeong countered, still unable to look up at Gon. “I know I’m not easy to – to – I know I’m bad at being friendly, and letting people in, and I know that people prefer to be around people they can connect with better, and I know I’m never going to be that person. I guess… why haven’t you chosen someone better?” he asked, biting down on his bottom lip and balling his hands into tight fists.

“It’s not difficult to love you, Yeong-ah.” Gon reached forward again and took both of Yeong’s hands, gently opening the fists so he could hold them properly. Yeong squeezed them tightly, as if someone was inflicting physical pain and he was struggling to withstand it. “I don’t know who got that idea into your head, but it’s not true at all. You’re so easy to love that it feels as natural as breathing. I haven’t chosen anyone better because there isn’t anyone better, not for me. Your not wanting to open up easily isn’t ever going to put me off – all it does is motivate me to love you more, and more and more in the hope that one day I might have given you enough to let you feel comfortable enough to show me the Jo Yeong underneath. And I can’t wait to meet him, even if it takes the rest of our lives for him to show his face.”

“What if you don’t like him?” Yeong blurted out, tearing his hands out of Gon’s to cover his face with them, wiping away more stray tears.

“I’ll love him,” Gon said, “Just like I love all the other layers of Jo Yeong. I will always love you, Yeong-ah, no matter what. No matter what it is you’re keeping hidden. You could be a serial killer and I wouldn’t love you any less. You’ll always be perfect. You are perfect, all of you. And I love you.”

“No matter what?” Yeong’s voice was wobbly, and his breath hitched in his throat.

“No matter what. I’ll never love you any less.”

Yeong nodded. Then he nodded again, and again, and he tried to smile, but it didn’t work, and he tried to look up at Gon, but he couldn’t, and he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

“I’ll love you even if you aren’t strong and put-together, Yeong-ah,” Gon said, and it didn’t take a second for Yeong to finally meet his eyes, see he meant it, and completely fall apart. His knees were the first to give way, sending him crashing down to the floor as his breathing got heavier and heavier and faster and faster until he not so much cried as screamed, releasing a raw, guttural, animalistic noise that seemed to rip out of his chest rather than come out of his mouth.

Gon couldn’t stand there without doing anything for longer than a moment, and so, hardly sparing a second to think, he found himself down on the floor too, pulling Yeong into his arms and holding him safely there. Yeong clung onto Gon like he would disappear if he didn’t, tightly clutching onto the fabric at the back of his shirt with so much force it threatened to rip the seams. But though he accepted the comfort, it did nothing noticeable to ease his pain as he continued screaming, releasing years of pent-up tension and worry in the form of the most heartbreaking sound Gon had ever heard.

All Gon could do was hold him close, rub his back, and whisper again and again that he loved him.

Each time he said it, Yeong clung a little tighter, and screamed with a little more force.

It was deafening, but Gon didn’t care. If Yeong needed to let this out, if this was the stress that he had been hiding, then Gon would let him scream until his throat was so damaged it could scream no more.

But eventually, he stopped, his breathing heavy and deep, his throat raspy, and his grip no less strong.

“I think,” he whispered, his voice more hoarse than before, “I think that’s the first time that anyone – that anyone’s said that they–”

“That they love you?” Gon completed for him, unable to quite believe the words coming out of his mouth.

Yeong nodded, and swiftly buried his face in Gon’s shoulder, his body convulsing as he tried not to descend into sobs once more.

“You can cry, Yeong-ah,” Gon reminded him, and then he did, the hiccough of his bawling unable to be contained after it was given that nudge of permission to be free.

“I’m going to kill your parents,” Gon muttered as he held him close, unsure as to whether he was talking to Yeong or to himself. “How can anyone let their child reach thirty without ever hearing that they’re loved?”

“Don’t do that,” Yeong protested, his voice almost unrecognisable through the chokes of his sobbing. “They’re good to my siblings, and I’d hate it if the twins got their happy family taken away.”

“Alright,” Gon conceded, chuckling fondly to himself at Yeong continuing to look out for anyone that wasn’t himself despite being in unfathomable amounts of pain. “But only for your siblings, and only because you asked.”

Yeong nodded, and for the first time since he’d got back from Korea, began to settle.

“I love you, you know?” Gon tried again, and Yeong curled into himself a little, covering his face as he buried into Gon’s side. “I’m going to keep saying it until you’re used to it, and then keep on saying it for the rest of my life. I love you, Yeong-ah. I love you. I love you.”

“Stop,” Yeong moaned, his voice muffled by his position, but that only fuelled Gon’s determination.

“I love you. You’re so, so loved, Jo Yeong. It’s not only me that loves you either – I spoke to Myeong Seungah this morning, and I’m utterly convinced she loves you too. The Head Court Lady too; you’re like her son, I know she loves you to bits. And Eunseob – Jo Eunseob, Yeong-ah! He loves you an insane amount!”

“Ok, I get it,” Yeong protested, looking up at Gon with sore, tear-stained eyes.

“Do you? Can you say it, then? Can you tell me that you’re loved?”

“I–” Yeong started, drawing a quick, sharp breath, “I’m – You–”

He buried his face in Gon’s chest again, lightly shaking his head as he whispered, “I can’t.”

“That’s ok,” Gon assured him, rubbing gentle circles into his back, “we’ll work on that. It’s not going to change how much I love you.”

Yeong started crying again, and Gon mentally kicked himself for not telling Yeong sooner.

He was angry at Yeong’s parents, but he himself was as much to blame. Who didn’t tell their best friend of twenty-six years that they loved them?

At least he was starting now, Gon told himself. At least he was making amends now. He could never make up for the last twenty-six years, could never undo the damage that had already been done, but he could at least tell Jo Yeong just how much he loved him, every day, for the rest of their lives.

He briefly considered going back in time with the Manpasikjeok and telling his younger self to start doing it, but if he did that then he wasn’t sure what the consequences were going to be. The timeline had already been messed with enough, and frankly the thought of changing it again, and the risk of losing something he had now, was far too much to bear.

That was cheating, anyway. That was just a way to erase his mistakes, instead of fix them.

Yeong was worth the effort of fixing them. Was more than worth it.

“Gon,” Yeong said, after he’d calmed down his breathing enough to say it. He looked up, and Gon smiled warmly down at him, gently encouraging whatever he had to say. “Gon, I – I just wanted to say that I–”

He gazed at Gon with pleading eyes, and Gon was pretty sure he knew what Yeong was trying to say.

“You love me?” he suggested, and Yeong hesitated for a second and closed his eyes before nodding.

“I’m sorry,” Yeong whispered, “I can’t – I’ve spent so long stopping myself from saying it that now I just… can’t. But it doesn’t mean I don’t. More than life itself.” He looked down, biting his lip, and Gon could see tears welling once again in his eyes.

“I understand, Yeong-ah,” Gon soothed, leaning his head down so he could see to gently wipe the silent tears that were starting to fall. “And I know you do. You don’t have to say.”

“But I want to!” he cried, leaning back from resting his weight on Gon so he could rest his hands determinedly on Gon’s shoulders. “Lee Gon, I – I – Agh! Why is this so difficult? I just need to make my mouth say three different sounds in a specific order; why isn’t it doing it?”

“Here’s an idea,” Gon started, a wide smile beginning to spread across his face as he just had what was possibly the best idea he’d ever had. “You know when I’m struggling to speak, we have the tap system, right?” he asked, and Yeong nodded, hooked onto his every word. “What if we add a new one? We’ve got two taps for ‘yes,’ three taps for ‘no,’ so how about four taps for ‘I love you?’ That way as well as it being easier for you, I can tell you secretly all the time, no matter where we are and who’s around us. How does that sound?”

As an answer, Yeong sprang forward and threw his arms around Gon again, tapping four times on his back.

I love you.

And then he did it again, and again, and again.

“I love you too, Yeong-ah,” Gon told him, a genuine smile plastered across his face. Yeong leaned back to look at him again, and he was smiling too, and looking at that one little display of happiness from the man he loved snatched Gon’s soul and sent it rocketing up to Heaven.

“No matter what?” Yeong asked again, for the second time that afternoon.

“I told you, no matter what. There’s absolutely nothing you can do that would make me not love you.”

“Ok.” Yeong nodded to himself, furrowing his brow for a second as he processed something that might have been that, or might have been something else unbeknownst to Gon. After a couple of seconds’ contemplation, he snapped to awareness again, and nervously held Gon’s gaze as he said, “I want you to come to my apartment. And I’m telling you this now, while I’m having the idea, so I can’t back out later. But you have to promise – you have to promise that right now you’re telling the truth. Because if you see, if you find out, and then you decide that you want nothing to do with me, I’m not sure I’ll ever recover.”

Yeong’s breathing was starting to quicken again, and he kept glancing down towards the floor, struggling to maintain this bout of confidence that he’d created for himself.

Was… was whatever was in his apartment really that bad? Gon had always wondered why Yeong was so adamant that he couldn’t go in, but he had never considered that the reason might be something so big that Yeong was worried he’d be rejected after it.

Was he hiding a dead body in there? An exotic pet that was illegal in Corea? A shrine devoted to worshipping Lee Lim?

Gon didn’t think he could bring himself to love Yeong less even if it was that. Yeong would have his reasons. Gon was sure that whatever it was that Yeong was so worried about would have a reasonable explanation.

“Yeong-ah.” Gon cupped Yeong’s trembling face in his hands, and told him, in no uncertain terms, “there is nothing, absolutely nothing that you could be hiding that would make me love you less. Nothing at all. Please, please believe me. I love all of you. Even the parts that you might not, I still love them, because they’re you. You’re my soulmate, forever and always. Nothing’s going to change that.”

With Yeong’s face in his hands like that, Gon wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Yeong until it was impossible for him to deny just how much he loved him, until all his pain was gone and replaced by the heady pleasure that Gon assumed came with kissing someone you really loved.

Of course, Gon wasn’t going to do that. In the real world, instead of Gon’s fantasy one, that would make Yeong feel incredibly uncomfortable, and that was the last thing Gon wanted to happen.

No, perhaps it was the second-to-last. The last thing Gon wanted to happen was for Yeong to think that all Gon’s declarations of love were because he ultimately wanted to get in Yeong’s pants, which wasn’t what he intended at all. With his whole heart, with his whole being, he had meant every single one.

“Alright,” Yeong nodded, scanning Gon’s face for traces of doubt that didn’t exist. “It’s not ready now, but tomorrow. I’ll go, and I’ll need a little time to prepare, maybe give me an hour just to be safe, but after that I’d like you to come.” He paused. “Please.”

“Of course I’ll come, Yeong-ah,” Gon assured him, pulling him into his arms again. “I’d love to come round to yours, whatever you’ve got hidden in there.”

Yeong made a face, before instructing Gon, “Don’t try and guess what it is. I want to do this properly, and I know I’ll give it away if you guess it.”

“No guessing,” Gon assured him, and Yeong put his arms around Gon and gently squeezed in thanks.

After a second, he excitedly gasped, and tapped four times, humming contentedly to himself as he did it.

“Did you just remember?” Gon asked, drowning in the cuteness Yeong was radiating.

“Shut up,” was the response he got, before he felt four taps again.

I love you.

Hearing – well, not so much hearing – feeling that sentiment from Yeong brought Gon an ecstasy that he hadn’t even realised he could feel.

Yeong loved him. Yeong loved him. He knew it, and yet it was still amazing to have Yeong tell him.

Even if it wasn’t romantic, it didn’t matter one bit. Yeong loved him.

He loved Yeong, and Yeong loved him.

How much more perfect could his life get?

Well, if he was someone else then there were certainly higher heights to be reached. If he wasn’t King Lee Gon, then he might like to run away with the man he loved to where they’d never be bothered again, and if his life was perfect then his Yeong would love him back exactly the way Gon loved him, and they’d spend the rest of their life as…

As partners, at least. As husbands, if Gon got really lucky.

That wasn’t his life though. Yeong was still straight, after all, so even if Gon never did manage to find a queen – heck, even if he was brave enough to come out and marry a man – he would never be in a relationship with the true love of his life. He would also never be able to run away, but that would always be bearable as long as he had Yeong by his side.

He loved Yeong, and Yeong loved him. That was perfect enough, for King Lee Gon.

Chapter Text

It took fifteen minutes for Yeong to prepare his apartment for Gon to visit.

Though he was showing him inside, he couldn’t show Gon everything, of course. The ‘Sexy Lee Gon’ calendar, for one, had to go. There was no way in hell he would be able to justify having that on his bedside table, especially not after Gon found out–

Gon was going to find out. Yeong was willingly inviting King Lee Gon into his apartment, and he wasn’t going to hide the majority of his collection of gay bits and bobs he’d acquired over the years. Most notably, he was keeping his very eye-catching pride flag on display, for his whole world to see.

And Gon was going to have to decide whether he really did mean what he said, when Yeong came back from Korea the day before, and he said – and he said–

Yeong could still hardly believe it. He couldn’t believe it.

Gon, he–

The man that Yeong loved with every fibre of his being, he–

To Yeong, he said–

It was too good to be true. Even if it wasn’t romantic, even if it was never going to be romantic, it was still too good to be true.

“No matter what,” Gon had said.

No matter what.

It was incredibly bold of Lee Gon to say that, when he didn’t know how many dirty secrets Yeong was hiding.

Well, technically it was only two. Only one, in – he checked his watch – forty-two minutes.

Forty-two minutes.

Yeong had forty-two minutes before his life might fall apart. If Gon was lying, or being overly optimistic, and he didn’t really – he didn’t mean it when he told Yeong “No matter what,” then his life as he knew it was going to end in forty-two minutes.

Forty-one minutes, he realised upon checking his watch again.

If Gon didn’t want him around after this, then Yeong would never forgive himself. He had tried to be very strict with himself, had been very clear that he was not going to fall for Gon’s sweet smiles and reassuring words one more time, but here he was, about to willingly lay a very fragile part of his heart bare, all because–

All because Gon had said–

All because Gon had said that he loved him.

Gon loved him.

He didn’t just want Yeong around because Yeong was paid to stay around.

He didn’t just tolerate Yeong’s presence because of how skilled he was at his job.

He wanted to stay close to Yeong, because he loved him.

Just the thought threatened to send Yeong into floods of tears once again.

Gon loved him.

Gon loved him.

Jo Yeong, for all his flaws, for all that he was a nuisance, for all that he did his best to distance himself from unwanted emotion, and for all that he failed at that anyway, was loved. By the actual King of Corea.

Ok, he was definitely crying. His breath shuddered as it came through his throat, and when he brought his hand to where his eyes were forcing themselves shut, it came back wet.

But despite it all, he was smiling. Smiling so widely his cheeks hurt with the effort, though Yeong hardly took notice of the pain. An ache from smiling too hard must be one of the most pleasurable pains one could experience in a lifetime, and Yeong was glad, and slightly amazed, that he finally got to experience it.

Gon loved him. He wasn’t just tolerating Yeong. He loved him.

What had Yeong ever done to deserve to be this lucky?

Perhaps he was about to ruin it all. Perhaps his sudden burst of confidence when he decided he was going to come out to Gon wasn’t confidence at all, but was instead his trusty self-sabotaging mechanism coming to ruin this new good thing.

It was certainly a risk. A huge, dangerous risk.

After all, Yeong could potentially be ending today with his face all over every tabloid newspaper’s website, and on their front pages ready for tomorrow. He might be trending on social media for all the wrong reasons, his DMs might be filled with hateful messages filled with homophobic slurs and death threats, and he might receive a call from the Jo family household saying that he’s not to even bother to try and interact with them, because they want nothing more to do with him.

Or perhaps Gon would give him the small mercy of not telling the press, but would instead subject Yeong to his own personal brand of hell, complete with assigning him his least favourite tasks for the rest of his life, ones that he’d be expected to complete with the knowledge that Gon is hating every second he’s spending with him, and the understanding that if he was to complain to anyone, he’d have to explain why Gon was making him suffer, and if today went badly then that was something he could not do.

Yeong spoke to people on the internet, sometimes. Under an alias, of course, as there was no way he could go creeping around the online GonJo community as the real Jo Yeong, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop going there in the first place. Seeing a pretty substantial collection of people support and celebrate the fantasy future he always dreamed of having gave him a sense of comfort like nothing else, and at least he could rest assured that if either of his secrets did reach the public, there would probably be some people out there that would support him.

One of those people once told him that he should consider opening up to Gon, because if Yeong’s Gon was anything like the real one – which, of course, he was – then he’d have nothing to worry about, because Gon loved Yeong, and they had a special connection that wouldn’t break regardless of sexuality.

Though these might have been the deluded ramblings of a fanboy who knew nothing real about Jo Yeong and Lee Gon other than what Yeong had helped Seungah put into her work, after what Gon said yesterday Yeong couldn’t help but feel like he believed the deluded ramblings a little more.

If Gon was – honestly, Yeong could hardly bring himself to think it – if Gon was supportive of Yeong’s sexuality, it wouldn’t change anything, but simultaneously it would change everything.

Yeong could openly mention finding a man attractive, and Gon wouldn’t bat an eye.

If Gon wanted to set Yeong up on a date, he’d do it with a man, and Yeong might actually have more of a chance of liking them.

When they spoke about their futures, Yeong could use the words ‘my husband’ to describe his future spouse.

Now that sounded too good to be true.

“My husband,” Yeong whispered to himself, savouring the way it felt in his mouth. Before he planned to tell Gon, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to claim that as a possibility, as there was no way he could keep a secret that big from his best friend, but now?

Well, perhaps it was still an impossibility. Getting a husband meant falling in love with someone who wasn’t Gon, and that didn’t particularly seem like it was on the cards for current Jo Yeong.

Still, though, who knew what the future held? Maybe he really would find someone else that made him almost as happy as Gon did, and he would make watching Gon love his future Queen almost bearable, and maybe their kids would be friends, if Yeong and his husband ever had them.

Did Yeong even want kids?

From the way he couldn’t contain his smile when he thought about himself and Gon raising the future princes and princesses of Corea, having them run around his feet and show him their scribbly drawings and call him dad, then yes, yes he did.

If he had children, no matter who it was he had them with, they would always feel loved. Yeong would tell them every day and every night, and would show them by supporting whatever it was they wanted to do – though not too much that he was overbearing and put on undue pressure – and by noticing if they were upset and finding ways to comfort and help, and by assuring them that they could always talk to him without judgement if they needed to, and that they would never be a burden, not on anyone but especially not on him.

Being able to do that with Gon was a fantasy. But perhaps, if Gon still wanted to stay close, his kids could have their Uncle Gon, that would love them just as much as their dads did.

Yeong flopped back onto his bed, the covers still made from the last time he slept in it, which was now over a week ago.

What on Earth was he even doing?

All Yeong was doing was coming out to Gon, why was he thinking about kids?

Maybe a part of him secretly hoped that if he told Gon he liked men, then Gon might confess the same. If he was lucky, maybe Gon would confess more than that.

Yeong wasn’t going to be that lucky. He was pretty certain he had used his whole lifetime’s supply of luck on yesterday’s conversation, but he had to admit it was nice to dream.

While Yeong was a world-leading expert on worst-case scenarios, he was pretty certain that would be the best one, if Gon really did take the opportunity to tell Yeong that he was in love with him.

It wasn’t going to happen.

It wasn’t going to happen.

But Yeong couldn’t shake the little voice in his head that kept telling him, ‘But what if it did?’

In – Yeong checked his watch again – thirty-three minutes, Gon might completely cut Yeong out of his life. However, in thirty-three minutes, Gon might also be telling Yeong the words he’d waited half his life to hear.

‘Jo Yeong, I’m in love with you.’

‘Yeong-ah, I’ve been keeping these feelings to myself because I never thought you’d return them, but now I know I have a chance I have to tell you that I’m in love with you.’

‘I have a confession of my own, actually. Everything I had with Taeeul, all the times I said I would marry her and that time I almost did, that was just a way of hiding my feelings for you. Yeong-ah, my Unbreakable Sword, my soulmate, I’m in love with you.’

Oh, if only. The chance of Yeong hearing that was so slim he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be visible under the most powerful microscope, but despite his rational mind’s protests Yeong couldn’t deny that the chance was still there.

And he would find out, in thirty-two minutes.

Thirty-two minutes alone with his thoughts, until his life might be over, or he gets the best news of his life, or something in-between.

Thirty-two minutes was a long time to spend alone with your thoughts, if your mind was as temperamental as Captain Jo Yeong’s.

He got up, already bored of lying down. He then smoothed out his duvet cover and plumped up his pillow, erasing any trace he was ever there.

He went to the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. Hydration was important, especially if he was going to be crying later, which he probably would however Gon reacted.

He did a quick check of his apartment, making sure any sign that he felt anything but friendship for King Lee Gon was safely locked away. It was, because Yeong had been very thorough the first time. Was always very thorough when it came to checking for safety.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were still a little red from where he was crying before. If he looked close enough, which he always did, it was very clear to see that his roots were beginning to peek through the inky black of the rest of his hair.

That was the one problem with essentially moving in with Gon. While being able to spend his evenings wrapped in Gon’s arms was incredible, and it really was something he wouldn’t trade it for the world, he was missing out on some very important hair-dyeing time.

At some point, Yeong would have to find an hour or so to excuse himself and do it, before the silver patches got so noticeable that Gon would call him out on it. That was a confrontation he really didn’t have the energy to engage in, especially not after what he was about to do.

It was probably ok for now, Yeong reasoned. It wasn’t like Gon would be looking for it, and Yeong was pretty sure it wasn’t noticeable if you weren’t looking for it, so he could probably go another day at least without having to mysteriously disappear for an hour to fix it.

Besides. Gon was going to have a far bigger concept to grapple with than just a few grey hairs. They were going to be the least of his worries.

How long did he have left?

Twenty-six minutes.

Still twenty-six minutes? Yeong could have sworn it had been longer than that since he last checked his watch.

Waiting like this, with nothing to do, was impossible.

He wasn’t going to check his phone. He had been actively avoiding it, in case Gon had tried to talk to him, but he could go no longer without the sweet distraction it provided.

Luckily, Gon hadn’t said a thing. But Seungah had.

Maybe she wanted his help with another fic? She did say she was starting another one, so he wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what she wanted.

CHAT: You and Myeong Seungah

Myeong Seungah:

YEONG!!!!!!!!!

Myeong Seungah:

yeongyeongyeongyeongyeong

Myeong Seungah:

u will never guess what his maj told me today

Myeong Seungah:

this was while u were asleep, he was lookin at u all fondly and he told me that he LOVED U

Myeong Seungah:

LOVE was the word he used!!!!!!!

Myeong Seungah:

i mean he did say that he meant it in a best friend way but YEONG u should have seen the way he was lookin at u as he said it

Myeong Seungah:

i honest to god think hes in love with u

You:

As for the first part, been there done that, Myeong Seungah. He might have also told me that – oh God I can hardly type this because my hands are shaking so much – but yesterday he might have also told me that he <3 me

You:

I’m sorry I had to resort to a heart because I literally can’t type it but you get what I mean

You:

In a best friend way, of course. He did make that clear, but still!! He told me that he would – no matter what!!!!

Myeong Seungah:

YEAH U DUMB BITCH

Myeong Seungah:

WHAT HAVE I BEEN SAYING FOR AS LONG AS IVE KNOWN U

Myeong Seungah:

OF COURSE HE LOVES U NO MATTER WHAT

You:

Ok ok I get it

You:

I am sort of… testing him. Very soon. In 22 minutes.

Myeong Seungah:

what r u doing

Myeong Seungah:

yeong if ur about to sabotage urself im coming round right now to slap ur stupid idea out of ur brain

You:

Aha well. I might be. Depends on how Gon reacts

You:

I’m gonna come out to him

Myeong Seungah:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Myeong Seungah:

HELLO IS THIS JO “no one must know” YEONG IM TALKING TO??

Myeong Seungah:

HOLY SHIT YEONG YES

Myeong Seungah:

U HAVE NO IDEA HOW PROUD I AM OF U RIGHT NOW

Myeong Seungah:

IM DOIN A LIL VICTORY DANCE IN MY CHAIR AT WORK

Myeong Seungah:

GO LIVE UR BEAUTIFUL GAY LIFE

Myeong Seungah:

i actually cannot believe this jo yeong u surprise me every time

Myeong Seungah:

i already know its gonna go amazing

Myeong Seungah:

and if it doesnt im not afraid of committing treason. and i will succeed where so many others have failed.

Myeong Seungah:

if he doesnt accept u, his best friend, literally a day after telling u he LOVES U, then the beheading will be totally worth it

You:

You do realise you’re talking to the Captain of the Royal Guard, right?

Myeong Seungah:

shit

Myeong Seungah:

*ahem* if he doesnt accept u then i will be a good corean citizen and definitely wont commit regicide

You:

Nice save

You:

I appreciate the sentiment though

You:

…will you come round with a hug if it doesn’t go well?

Myeong Seungah:

the fact that u even feel the need to ask is insulting

Myeong Seungah:

OF COURSE i will

Myeong Seungah:

it will go well though. i know it. *old lady voice* i can feel it in my bones

Myeong Seungah:

craP SPEAKING OF

Myeong Seungah:

i think lady nohs gonna have my head again if im on my phone any longer

Myeong Seungah:

GOOD LUCK!!!!! dont text me back, the notif will make her suspicious

Yeong laughed to himself, fully being able to picture Seungah trying very hard and failing very miserably to avoid Lady Noh’s watchful eye as she pretended to work. Currently she was meant to be making sure the fiasco at the football match stayed as under wraps as possible, but from the amount of times she had complained about how boring it was to scroll through endless news sites to make sure there was nothing untoward about Gon, he figured she had most likely been writing instead of working.

As long as nothing bad was obviously circulating, Yeong was pretty certain it was fine. He wasn’t going to complain about more Jogon Jogon fanfiction anyway.

Speaking of, he had a couple of messages from his GonJo internet people to reply to, one of whom would likely be very interested in what he was about to do. He also had fourteen minutes left to kill.

If he couldn’t spend it with the very people who would celebrate in the streets if they found out what he was doing, then how could he?

***

Gon was pacing rings around his study.

He tended to pace when he was stressed. It helped to channel some of his excess energy into a safe outlet, that wasn’t overworking his brain with overthinking.

Not, of course, that he wasn’t overthinking. He very definitely was.

There could be all manner of things hidden in Yeong’s apartment.

Maybe it was stacks of gold, that he had stolen from the palace vault.

Maybe it was a secret twin brother, one that he swapped places with from time to time to share the workload.

Maybe Yeong had a secret girlfriend, and Gon couldn’t go into the apartment before because he had too many pictures of her up. Perhaps she was going to greet him, when he walked in.

Gon would be fine, if Yeong had a girlfriend. He’d be totally fine. Maybe it was the same girl that Yeong said he loved. If it was, then Gon would be happy for Yeong. He really, honestly would.

Just… a teeny bit disappointed. Teeny tiny. Not that he had anything to be disappointed about, really, as he already knew that he was never going to be able to be with Yeong, but something about the thought of the lips he fantasised about kissing someone else, the heart that he yearned for giving itself to another, it didn’t quite sit right with Gon.

He knew it was selfish to want to keep Yeong to himself, despite never being able to truly have him. He knew that, but his heart didn’t seem to care. It just wanted Yeong. It desperately, desperately, wanted Yeong.

Honestly. Yeong had only been gone about three quarters of an hour. This level of pining after that short time of separation was pathetic, and was entirely beneath the King of Corea.

But God, he never felt like the King when he was around Yeong. If Gon didn’t know any better, he’d say that Yeong had waved a magic wand and put a spell on him, pulling him into his thrall so he couldn’t survive a minute without him by his side.

And Gon wouldn’t have it any other way.

Perhaps that’s what Yeong was hiding in his apartment. Maybe he was secretly a witch, or a wizard, or a warlock, or some other type of magical entity, and he’d been hiding his magic from Gon for this long because he knew Gon didn’t believe in it.

He’d believe in it if he saw it. He might try to explain it away as science, but he’d believe in it.

More than anything, he’d believe in Yeong. If Yeong turned round and told him that magic was real, Gon would believe him, because how could someone as perfect as Jo Yeong be created by anything other than magic?

Certainly not through genetics. Gon knew for a fact that Yeong hadn’t inherited any of those from either of his parents.

That might well be what it was, then. Yeong was magic.

Yeong was magic.

What was it, that Sherlock Holmes quote?

‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’

Though improbable, Yeong being magic must be the truth!

And suddenly, Gon took a moment to think about the conclusion he just came to.

What the hell was he doing?

If this was what three quarters of an hour without Yeong was doing to him, then he feared for the rest of his life. He’d go mad before he ever managed to find himself a queen.

He needed a distraction. Literally anything.

And though he could feel Lady Noh’s judging glare upon him, the words ‘You millenials and your technology’ ringing in his ears, he opened his laptop to indulge in just a little Jogon Jogon.

Or he would have done, if his attention wasn’t caught first by some very recent messages from captain_dreamland.

CHAT: You and captain_dreamland

captain_dreamland:

I feel like I should let you know that I am about to do something very brave, and very scary, and I partially have you to thank for planting the idea in my head

captain_dreamland:

You know how when we first started talking, you assured me that my Gon would be ok if I came out to him? Well, I’m about to put that to the test. I’m going to tell him.

captain_dreamland:

Not about my feelings, of course. That would still be suicide. But I’ve finally worked up the courage to tell him that I’m gay.

captain_dreamland:

Hopefully it won’t be the end of a very long friendship. Unless it ends by him coming out too and saying that he wants to be with me, but somehow I sincerely doubt that’s going to happen. Even if his girlfriend did break up with him since the last time we spoke…

captain_dreamland:

Ok to be honest a whole bunch of stuff has happened since the last time we spoke. Some things that I still can’t quite believe, and could barely type out to one of my irl friends so I’m not going to bother trying here. I need to keep calm, I’m going to do it soon so I need to be calm enough to handle it. I guess what I’m saying is – wish me luck!!!

You:

This is – Captain Dreamland, last time we spoke you were crying over the death of your relationship, and now you’re telling me this???

You:

I’m super pleased for you but ???????????

You:

What happened to that???????????

captain_dreamland:

that comes under the ‘whole bunch of stuff’ that has happened. We’re still very close friends – extremely close, really – and actually I’ve got the sense that he’s wanted to kiss me more since then? But I think that was just my imagination going crazy

You:

Well, I’m pleased you’re still close. And I’m sure you still will be, after you come out. Assuming that hasn’t happened yet.

captain_dreamland:

Nope, it hasn’t! I’m sitting around my place just *quaking* waiting for him to come over. He should be here soon, and as the minutes tick by I’m trying harder and harder not to regret every single life decision I’ve ever made

You:

I can almost guarantee you won’t. If you’re as close as you say, I sincerely doubt that something like who you’re attracted to will affect your friendship enough to significantly ruin everything. If you’re the Yeong to his Gon, then he’ll still love you no matter what

You:

And I wish I could stay online with you in the last few minutes before he comes, but I’m afraid I have somewhere pretty important to get to. I wish you the very best of luck, though somehow I don’t think you’re going to need it ;)

captain_dreamland:

Thank you anyway!!!! I’ll make sure to let you know how it goes!!!

Gon really did have to go. He had left it far too late, but in all honesty that was probably a good thing. That meant his thoughts didn’t have the time to go on long tangents as he rushed out of his study, and outside the palace, and all the way down to the Royal Guard’s apartments.

He was going to go into Yeong’s apartment.

He was going to go into Yeong’s apartment.

Finally, after years and years of wondering, he’d find out what was in there. Would find out what it was that made Yeong so adamant about not letting him in.

Yeong was, quite literally, letting him in. Despite his hurrying, he was able to take a moment to appreciate the beautiful poetry of that.

God, Yeong was perfect. He was so perfect and so magical that even small actions like this were fraught with hidden meaning, and Gon considered himself the luckiest man in the multiverse, that may or may not be larger than a googleplex of atoms because he still hadn’t got round to working that out, to be able to experience Yeong’s magic firsthand.

Whatever Yeong was hiding, he would still be perfect after Gon found out. Of that, he was a hundred percent sure.

Even when his hand was shaking as he knocked on Yeong’s door, knowing that, for the first time, he was going to be able to set foot inside.

“Yeong-ah!” he called into the apartment, cupping his hand against the door, “It’s me, Gon! I’m here!”

When Yeong opened the door, his face was as white as a sheet, leaving Gon to wonder for the millionth time if Yeong’s secret was really as bad as he feared.

Gon supposed he’d find out, in a moment.

“Put this on,” Yeong instructed him, holing out an eye mask that Gon assumed he intended him to use as a blindfold.

“I thought you were going to show me your apartment,” Gon queried, taking the mask anyway and putting it over his eyes.

“I am,” Yeong’s now disembodied voice told him. “I just want you to see one specific thing first.”

And with that, Yeong took his hand, sending sparks of electricity jolting through Gon’s hand and down his spine at the sudden unexpected touch.

Normally, even with Yeong, Gon could prepare himself a little for physical contact, because he could see it coming. Now he was blindfolded, he couldn’t see a thing.

If it had been anyone else that he was blindfolded with, Gon wasn’t sure that he would have liked it. Anyone could do anything to him, and he wouldn’t be able to stop it before it happened.

But this was Yeong. Gon was safe with Yeong. Yeong would make sure he didn’t fall, would make sure no one hurt him, and most importantly would stay with him, while he was vulnerable, and then when he wasn’t anymore anyway.

Gon was safe, even if he couldn’t see that it was Yeong that was holding his hand and leading him into his apartment. Even if he wasn’t prepared to hear Yeong whispering “Sit here,” accompanied by a couple of gentle nudges to show him where it was he was meant to sit.

Each one caught him off-guard, momentarily making his heart skip a beat, but it was ok each time because he knew it was Yeong, and Yeong loved him, and he loved Yeong, and the security of that knowledge turned the jolts of discomfort into jolts of crackling excitement.

Briefly, he wondered what it would be like to kiss Yeong while blindfolded. To have Yeong kiss him, all over his body, surprising him every time his lips made contact with Gon’s skin.

And then he didn’t do that, because what kind of friend thinks about their best friend kissing them when they’re about to tell them something very big and very important?

“You can take it off now,” Yeong told him after Gon felt him sit beside him on what he assumed was Yeong’s sofa.

He sounded incredibly nervous. Incredibly unsure. The shaking of his voice was making Gon feel scared, even more so than he wanted to admit to himself.

What if Yeong was a paedophile, for God’s sake?

He surely wasn’t. Yeong had assured him that the person he loved was age-appropriate, and Gon believed him.

So what was it?

He was going to find out.

Tentatively, Gon took off the blindfold, and found himself looking at Yeong’s wall.

Where he had hung a very large rainbow-coloured flag.

To which he had affixed several pieces of paper, each one containing a single syllable in very large font, that spelt out the message: ‘Surprise! I’m gay!’

Gon was vaguely aware of Yeong nervously tapping his foot, and the tapping getting faster and faster with each millisecond Gon spent looking at the words.

Yeong…

Yeong was gay.

Yeong was like him. All these years, and Gon had never known.

If Gon was anyone else, he would have had a real chance of being with the love of his life.

If Gon was a little braver, he might have been able to have what Lee Chul had with Jo Muyeol.

That is, if Yeong was willing to give up the person he loved to be with Gon.

The person Yeong loved was a man.

The person Yeong loved, what if he was–

“Gon?” Yeong breathed, staring at Gon with wide eyes as he broke him out of his trance. “Are you ok? Do you need a minute to process? Do you – do you still…” he trailed off, his whole body shaking slightly as he completed his question with four nervous taps on Gon’s arm.

‘Do you still love me?’

“Are you kidding?” Gon rhetorically asked, pulling his trembling friend into his arms, “Of course I still love you. No matter what, remember?”

“No matter what,” Yeong repeated, mumbling into Gon’s shoulder. “No matter what.”

“Yeong-ah,” Gon sighed, gently stroking the back of Yeong’s head, “if anything, I love you more. This was – my God, Yeong-ah, you’ve just done something so incredibly brave. And you do bravery for a living, I know, but this is a different kind of brave, and I’m so, so proud of you.”

“There was a lot that could have gone wrong,” Yeong admitted, the obvious tremor in his voice giving away just how scared he was. “You could have said you wanted nothing to do with me, and then you could have made it public that you were firing the Captain of the Royal Guard because he was a dirty homosexual and you didn’t want that kind of weakness infecting the ranks of the people trying to protect you, and then everywhere I went I’d be known as the queer guard that you rejected, and I’d either have to spend the rest of my life in hiding because the shame would be too much, or someone would kill me before I had the chance.”

And for the second day in a row, Yeong was crying. Large, powerful sobs that left Gon’s shoulder looking like it had been out in the rain, but Gon didn’t care one bit because he understood.

Gon was terrified of his people thinking him weak. He was terrified of them thinking him dirty, and unfit to rule. He was terrified of an uprising, of being dethroned, or possibly even killed.

There would be far more people that wanted him dead if he ever came out. That was just a fact.

And because of that, Yeong’s job would become far harder. Gon couldn’t do that to him.

He could, at least, comfort Yeong. And tell his best friend what he desperately wished someone would tell him, instead.

“You’re not dirty, Yeong-ah,” he soothed, leaning his head on top of Yeong’s and trying desperately not to kiss it. “You’re not weak, either. What’s changed, between a couple of minutes ago and now? I know you’re gay” – Yeong flinched as Gon said that, prompting Gon to pull him closer – “but that’s all that’s different. You’re not any less strong than you were then, not any worse at your job, and not any less qualified to be my Unbreakable Sword. Your sexuality hasn’t even changed; you were gay then, when you saved my life again and again and again, when you coped admirably well with the knowledge that there was another universe, different to this one, when you became the youngest ever Captain of the Royal Guard, when you endured rigorous training for that position when you weren’t even a legal adult – does me knowing your sexuality retroactively make that weak?”

Yeong shook his head as if Gon was seriously asking that as a question, and wasn’t just posing it as a ludicrous hypothetical.

“You’re so strong,” Gon whispered, partially to Yeong but partially to himself as he marvelled at his Captain, at his soulmate for what must have been the billionth time, “but it wouldn’t even matter if you weren’t, because I love you. And you always assure me that you’ll stay with me, but now let me assure you that I’m going to stay with you. I’m always going to keep you with me. And if this ever gets out – if you want to make it public, or even if it happens accidentally – however people react, I’m going to keep you as the Captain of my Royal Guard. No matter what people say, even if the stuffy politicians in my parliament take umbrage, frankly they can suck my dick, because I’m not letting them take you away from me. You got that?”

Gon’s choice language earned a laugh from Yeong, which he took as a good sign.

“If they did that then they’d have no right complaining that I was gay,” he joked, beginning to convince Gon that his crying was morphing into something much more jovial.

Now that brought a smile to Gon’s face too. Yeong was ok. This was difficult, and he had been worried, but now the bandage had been ripped off Yeong was ok.

For a second, Gon considered coming out to Yeong too. What did he have to lose? It wasn’t like Yeong was going to reject him, because otherwise he’d be the multiverse’s largest hypocrite.

But he couldn’t do that. This was Yeong’s moment, not his.

Maybe another time, Gon reasoned. After Yeong got comfortable in himself. It would be better to not give him too much to deal with all at once.

Instead, he decided to focus on making sure Yeong was as comfortable as he could be, after having bared this portion of his soul to Gon for the very first time.

“They certainly wouldn’t!” Gon agreed, laughing alongside Yeong. “They’d be the biggest hypocrites in all Corea.”

Yeong nodded in agreement, before snuggling down into Gon’s arms, tapping four times on Gon’s shoulder, and whispering, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Gon asked, returning the four taps and earning a squeeze of appreciation.

“For this. Letting me make a big gesture out of it. Your hug, the big speech. All my other ‘outings’ have been pretty underwhelming.”

“How so?”

A better question – how many other people knew?

“Don’t even get me started,” Yeong sighed, shaking his head, before promptly getting started anyway. “Seungah guessed, Shinjae guessed, Eunseob snuck around my phone and found out that way, I was coerced into telling Nari and she just said ‘ok,’ I found out I’d been telling my siblings pretty much since they were born, with Jihun it was just a mutual understanding, and Taeeul walked in on me yesterday complaining about the difficulties of being queer. I think that’s everyone. Well, I guess Jihun’s niece also knows? Shit, that’s a lot of people. With you, that’s–” he paused for a moment to count “–ten people, across the Kingdom and the Republic. But you’re the first I’ve chosen to have a proper ‘coming out’ with, entirely on my own terms. And I’m kind of glad it was you.”

“Is it selfish if I said that I’m kind of glad it was me, too?” Gon asked, earning a look up from Yeong with the most beautiful smile Gon had ever seen.

“Maybe a little bit,” Yeong laughed, “but it’s ok, if it was me in your position then I know I’d feel the same.”

If it was Yeong in his position then he’d be disappointed to know that he’d already told Lady Noh, twenty years ago. Hopefully not too disappointed, right? Yeong had only been ten at the time, and what Gon had needed in that moment was a mother. Or at least someone similar.

“That’s good,” Gon said despite that, then added, “but all those people know? All our friends in the Kingdom? And Seungah? And your siblings?”

“The only person I ever wanted to know was Jihun, and that’s because we met under the premise of being gay in the first place. With everyone else, it just kind of happened, and I couldn’t stop it. But yeah. All our friends know.”

“Hang on,” Gon gasped, suddenly coming to a realisation that wasn’t so much a realisation, but more of a confirmation of something he hadn’t let himself properly believe before, “was it Jihun you went on a date with? And that’s why he gave you his coat? And that’s why he seemed ever so slightly pissy the whole time we went to his house?”

Yeong froze, the constant white noise of his breathing stopping with a particularly sharp gasp, creating a tension Gon hadn’t meant to provoke at all.

But of course it did. Because Jihun looked like Gon. And Yeong was nestled in Gon’s arms. And Gon had just found out that Yeong was gay.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! Gon knew that Yeong had someone he loved, and he also knew that person wasn’t Jihun because he knew that Yeong’s date was unsuccessful thanks to his feelings for the other person. Yeong dating Jihun didn’t mean anything! Why did he even bring it up?

“I can explain,” Yeong breathed, and then without taking another breath said, “it was Shinjae, he and Eunseob were the ones who set me up for online dating and then Shinjae picked him out because I guess he thought it would be funny? And I suppose I was sort of curious because I wanted to find out what another version of you was like, because of course Eunseob and I are very different, and this guy grew up without being the King, so I agreed to it because I was curious, and that’s all.”

“Yeong-ah, it’s fine,” Gon assured him, gently stroking his back, “you don’t need to explain your dating history to me. Besides, I already know you love someone else, so if you went on a date with someone who has such dashing good looks–” Gon stopped to see if Yeong laughed, and he did, ever so slightly “–then I can only be honoured.”

“I kissed him,” Yeong confessed, “is that weird?”

Yeong kissed Jihun? Why that lucky bastard–

“It’s not weird at all. That’s like you finding it weird that Nari kisses Eunseob, when you and Seungah are just friends. You don’t, because you’re different people. Jihun and I, we’re different people. I’m entirely neutral about the whole thing.”

That was a lie. He was very, incredibly jealous. What had Jihun done to earn a kiss from Jo Yeong?

Gone on a date with him, Gon supposed. Told Yeong from the get-go that he was gay too.

Lucky bitch didn’t have to worry about a kingdom when he chose his partner. He could go ahead and kiss however many Jo Yeongs he wanted.

“Oh thank God,” Yeong sighed, relaxing again into Gon’s side. “I had completely forgotten about Jihun when I decided to do this, I hadn’t even begun to consider that maybe you’d work that one out.”

“It’s seriously fine. I already know you love someone else anyway, so I’m not going to spare Jihun a second thought.” Gon paused for a second, making another mental connection. “Wait – this is why you were so sure I would never guess who the person you love is, isn’t it? Because I kept guessing women, and the person you love is a man!”

“Yes and no,” Yeong mused, humming under his breath. “It’s partially because of that, and partially because you’re stupid.”

“How dare you say that about your King?” Gon exclaimed, earning a very amused laugh from Yeong. “Have you seen my IQ? I am certifiably far from stupid.”

“Fine,” Yeong conceded. “You’re just an idiot. When I said that Seungah and Shinjae both guessed my sexuality, they did that by guessing the person I was in love with. And they’ve known me… what, half a year? I mean Seungah guessed pretty much straight away, meaning that in this regard she is far smarter than you.”

“Sorry, they know who you’re in love with too? Yeong-ah, this isn’t fair! I’m your soulmate, surely I should be the first to know!”

“Pretty much everyone that knows my sexuality knows who I’m in love with too,” Yeong groaned, “not that I ever wanted any of them to find out, but of course I was never going to be so lucky. And I know it must be annoying, and I’m not trying to discredit our closeness or anything like that, but please, just let me keep this one thing to myself. It already makes me disappointed enough to know that I’ll never have him, and talking to you about it will just make it hurt even more.”

“Alright,” Gon assured him, trying not to sound disappointed, “you can have this. I won’t even try to guess. But if ever he’s making you sad, and you don’t want to talk but you do need a hug, my arms are always available.”

“Ok,” Yeong laughed, tapping four times on Gon’s chest, right near his heart, “I’ll bear that in mind. Thank you. That might honestly help more than you realise.”

“I hope so! If he’s not going to give you any love, then I need to give you double the amount to make up for it.”

Now this really got a laugh out of Yeong. He threw his head back, giving Gon a clear view of the wide grin gracing his lips as he shared his amusement with the world.

Gon wished he had a camera with him in that moment so he could attempt to capture the beauty of it, doing so in a way that meant he could revisit it over and over and create similar flutters in his heart every time.

He was so focused on that, he almost forgot to wonder why it was Yeong found that so funny.

Well, Gon supposed, it would be optimistic of him to believe that Yeong was currently used to the feeling of being loved, so the idea of being loved twice as much would most likely seem ludicrous. That was probably what it was.

In lieu of any explanation, Yeong climbed over Gon so he was looking down on him, holding himself up with only his left arm, and blocking out Gon’s view of anything that wasn’t Jo Yeong. With an amused smirk that threatened to do Gon in there and then, Yeong then used his right hand to pat four times on Gon’s cheek, scrunching his nose up in delight after he did it.

Gon’s entire universe was Jo Yeong. No, his entire multiverse was Jo Yeong. His face and his body were all Gon could see, his laughter was all Gon could hear, his touch was all Gon could feel, his scent was all Gon could smell, and his breath was all Gon could taste.

He was perfect. He was everything.

Unable to quite believe that Yeong’s existence was entirely real, Gon reached up a hand to cup Yeong’s cheek as he looked into his eyes and uttered the greatest truth in all the multiverse.

“I love you.”

Yeong closed his eyes as he leaned into Gon’s touch, letting out a sigh as Gon assumed his friend was savouring the moment as much as he was, before opening his eyes and looking into Gon’s with an ache of what Gon could only name as longing.

Gon wanted to kiss him. Wondered if that would satisfy whatever it was that Yeong was longing for.

And then Yeong shook his head, and the look was gone, and he nestled himself back down into Gon’s arms.

Did Yeong… Did Yeong want what Gon wanted, just then?

He might have been able to find out if he wasn’t such a coward.

Because now there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that was stopping Gon from trying the sort of relationship with Yeong that he yearned for, except his own cowardice.

‘Gon was in love with Taeeul.’ No he wasn’t, and Gon wasn’t entirely sure he ever was. And she had broken up with him anyway, leaving him free to date whoever he wished.

‘Yeong was straight.’ No, he wasn’t. Yeong liked men. Gon was a man. And sure, Yeong already had someone he was in love with, but he was adamant that this man would never like him back, so maybe if Gon offered to try a romantic relationship then Yeong wouldn’t be completely opposed to the idea.

Who knows, maybe Yeong would fall for Gon harder than the other guy. Gon didn’t know how the future was going to pan out.

Except he knew that wasn’t going to happen, because he was a coward. He wasn’t Lee Chul, who was confident enough to own his sexuality and marry the man of his dreams despite the difficulties that presented.

He was only Lee Gon. King Lee Gon, of the Kingdom of Corea, a country that had already had to deal with enough monarchy-related stress in Gon’s lifetime, and a country that didn’t deserve to deal with any more.

Gon had total freedom to confess to Yeong, to possibly start a relationship with Yeong, and yet he had no freedom at all.

Being the King was a privilege, some would say. Perhaps they were right. He never wanted for anything material, he never wanted for respect, he never wanted for power, but all that came at a price of his freedom, and it was a price that Gon was frankly tired of paying.

His father married for love. His father married a Christian woman, and even that decision was met with backlash because they decided to have a Christian wedding in a church, rather than a traditional Corean wedding in a palace.

But at least that wedding didn’t jeopardise the future of the royal line. Gon was living proof of that.

And he couldn’t, he couldn’t do that to his country. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t, he couldn’t–

But if he did, he might be able to have Yeong.

Only ‘might.’ Even if Gon confessed, Yeong could still say no. Yeong would probably say no. Who in their right mind would want to join the Royal Family, when joining meant signing up for never knowing a moment of true peace for the rest of your life?

Besides, Yeong already had someone he loved. He wouldn’t be interested in Gon, anyway.

Honestly, he’d only just found out his friend was gay, and now Gon was wondering whether Yeong would be into him? What kind of homophobic bullshit was that? They were friends, and nothing more!

There was still, however, that chance. Before, there hadn’t been any chance at all. Now there was. A tiny, dancing glimmer of hope, of possibility, that Gon had never been able to let himself entertain before.

Now he could. Yeong had the potential to feel the same way, even if he didn’t yet. Even if he never realistically would, the potential was still there, and now it was undeniable.

And Gon was too cowardly to grasp it.

His perfect future was right there, it was within reach!

But Gon was too cowardly to take it.

Despite how much that stung.

Tendrils of shame started to creep their way into Gon’s soul, freezing the warmth that sat there whenever Yeong was with him, as he was now. He could have this. He could have it. But he wasn’t going to, because he was a coward.

If he wanted to, there was nothing stopping him from telling the truth to Yeong.

‘Yeong-ah, I’m gay too.’

‘Yeong-ah, I’m in love with you.’

But he didn’t say either of those things, because he was a coward. They were very simple words, but Gon physically could not say them.

And he could make up excuses as to why, but the only real reason was because he was scared. Thirty-four years old, and still scared of what people might think.

What kind of a reason was that, not to be true to himself?

Frankly, a debilitating one.

In Cheonjongo, when Gon was eight years old, he had been scared. When he first became King, he was scared. When he realised he might like men, he was scared.

When he thought he’d lost Yeong, he was scared. Terrified.

If he confessed to Yeong, he could keep him forever.

Or he could lose him forever. And that would be too much to bear.

On instinct, Gon pulled Yeong closer into him, earning a startled intake of breath from his resting Captain.

“Do you feel freer now?” Gon asked, despite knowing the futility of seriously comparing Yeong’s position to his own.

“I think I do,” Yeong answered, pursing his lips slightly as he considered his answer, and making Gon yearn to kiss them even more. “I mean, it’s certainly a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. Now I don’t need to worry about whether you’ll accept me or not, because I know you do, and now I can describe any future partners I may have as ‘he,’ and ‘my boyfriend,’ or even ‘my husband,’ if I’m lucky enough to find someone willing to marry me.”

Lucky enough to find someone willing to marry him? Just hearing Yeong say that made Gon want to get down on one knee, there and then.

“Of course you will, if that’s what you want,” was what Gon said instead, because he was still a fucking coward, “I bet you’ll have the most handsome husband in all of Corea. Wait – no, the second most handsome, because it’s the man you marry that’s going to be able to make that claim.”

“I’ve not even been out of the closet for an hour and you’re already flirting with me?” Yeong laughed, playfully smacking Gon’s arm. “Me deciding to come out is not an opportunity for you to mess with me, Lee Gon.”

“I’m not messing at all, just telling the truth,” Gon shrugged, taking a little guilty enjoyment from watching Yeong squirm, and admit that Gon was flirting? “Your husband is going to be a very lucky man.”

“Gah, this is too much!” Yeong complained, hiding his face in the crook of Gon’s arm. “Hearing you talk about my husband like that – it’s something I never, ever imagined I’d hear.”

“You want me to do it more? Just imagine, Yeong-ah, your future husband is out there right now, somewhere in the world, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s going to marry the most beautiful, most amazing, most perfect man in the whole multiverse. He’s just going about his life, maybe he’s at work, maybe he’s out with some friends,” maybe he’d be holding you in his arms, right now, if he wasn’t such a coward, “and maybe, just maybe, he’s thinking about you, too. Wondering what you’re going to be like, with no idea that he’s going to win the husband lottery, quadruple-rollover, biggest prize they’ve ever seen.”

“Stop it!” Yeong protested, lifting up his head so Gon could see the huge grin spread across his face. “Stop boosting my ego like that! Honestly, you’re going to make me think it’s you that wants to be my husband!”

Gon almost told him. It was on the tip of his tongue.

‘I do want to be your husband. I love you. I’m in love with you.’

This was so stupid! There was literally nothing preventing him from saying that!

His country would survive, right? They’d get over it, given enough time.

He could just say it. Gon could just say it.

Say it. Say it. Say. It.

King Lee Gon you cowardly fuck, just tell Yeong you’re in love with him. Just do it!

“Yeong-ah, I–”

“It’s ok, Gon, I was joking,” Yeong laughed, his words ripping a deep fissure in Gon’s vulnerable heart. “I don’t actually think you want to marry me; I’m very well aware you’re straight, just because I’ve come out doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten that.”

Gon couldn’t do it. He couldn’t fucking do it. That was his moment, and he’d missed it.

Yeong probably didn’t want him anyway, not like that. Gon was foolish and reckless for even thinking that he should come clean.

For all intents and purposes, he was still straight. He was still going to marry a woman. He would still have to, really, however he felt about Yeong, and that was always going to be the truth.

Confessing was about the most selfish thing he could do, because where could he go from there?

‘Yeong-ah, I’m in love with you, and I wish I could be the one to marry you but unfortunately I can’t, because I have a duty to my people to find a queen.’

It was stupid, and pointless, and all it would accomplish would be changing Yeong’s perception of him forever, and potentially driving them apart when they’d just grown so close.

He’d just make Yeong uncomfortable, and that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

So he went along with Yeong’s assumption, because what other option did he have?

“I know, Yeong-ah, don’t worry. I’m honestly pleased that you’re feeling comfortable enough to make these kinds of jokes at all.”