Chapter Text
The night was cool. The taste of rain on his tongue was refreshing. He could hear the slight rustling of leaves, chirping crickets, and the occasional owl calling out to the moon. The stones beneath his hands were slightly damp, which left him feeling underway as he scaled the wall. The night felt too quiet for what he was about to do. Disrupting the peace would be a shame, but he had his orders and it would be for the good of his people.
Yoon Jeonghan had been sent by the liberation party to kill the horrible dictator committing heinous acts of terror to his people. A lithe, graceful, and accurate assassin who had made his name by killing corrupt leaders efficiently. It was a messy and dangerous job, but the underlying anger which fueled his passion kept him motivated.
This dictator has ripped his husband away from him because of his heritage. His soft and overly gentle and kind husband who had never done anything wrong in his life had been stolen away from him.
Revenge fueled him. For his husband and for what could have been his life.
His nimble fingers were easily seeing up his weapon, concentrating on putting the gun together and making sure it was something toward the window of the dictators room. He didn't know how long he's been waiting for, but he refused to fail.
An hour finally passed when the light flickered on in the room. He perked up, his finger resting beside the trigger and anxiously keeping his eyes on the window, tuning out all other distractions.
That seemed to be a poor judgement call as the barrel of a gun was pressed to the back of his head.
“Step away from the gun,” his perpetrator said, his voice void of emotion.
Jeonghan did as he was told, calculating how he could get out of this mess.
“Turn around. Let me see your have,” the man said.
Jeonghan did so slowly, keeping his hands open and to his side, turning to face the man who prevented him from killing the evil dictator.
His eyes widened at the person standing before him. Gone was the sight chubbiness to cheeks and replaced with high cheek bones, the once lean body now had broad, muscular shoulders, and a toned torso. His hair had been cut shorter, and earrings bedazzled his ears.
“Cheollie?” Jeonghan whispers out.
The man in front of him looks just as surprised, drinking in his appearance like a man who was starved. Jeonghan knew he also looked different. He had cut off his long brunette locks and bleached his hair. He also lost a bit of weight and packed on a few pounds of muscle.
“Hannie,” Seungcheol whispered out.
The two continued staring, Frozen in their disbelief. Jeonghan was sure that the dictator would kill his husband for being married to a man. Jeonghan had grieved his husband's death. To see him, alive and looking healthy was not something he ever expected to see.
“Baby,” Seungcheol murmured, “He said he killed you. How are you here?”
Jeonghan watches his husband lower his gun. Jeonghan reaches for him, taking the hand without the gun into his own, and squeezing it. Feeling that familiar warmth mixed with the roughness of callouses from years of hard labor which were foreign to the once delicate and soft hands he remembered.
There were purple bruises beneath his husband's eyes from a clear lack of sleep. His once pouty and plump lips turned downwards in a permanent frown. The once tan and smooth skin dull and rough from lack of care. The black hair that once shined and look so glossy was now haphazardly cut and oily, lifelessly hanging on his forehead.
“What have they done to you?” Jeonghan asks, moving his hands to the unfamiliar broad chest, firm muscles beneath his hands as he steps closer to his husband's body. “What did they tell you, baby?”
Seungcheol bows his head, “That you had been killed in the struggle, and if I wanted to protect my family I needed to join their side. I was mourning your death, vulnerable and angry, so I accepted. If I would have known-”
Jeonghan quiets him, quickly removing the escaped tears and forcing the other man to look at him. “They manipulated you. It's what they do. Don't blame yourself. You did what you had to in order to protect our family. You should feel no shame over that.”
“You were alive this whole time though,” Sungcheol said, a pained whine leaving him.
“How were you supposed to know that? How was I supposed to know you were still alive, hm? I forgive you, if that helps you. I will always forgive you because deep down you are still the same man I fell in love with as a teenager, and you are still the same man I decided to marry. You are my husband, and through thick and thin I will continue to love you,” Jeonghan speaks softly, trying his best to comfort the distraught and guilt ridden man in front of him.
“Are you here to kill him?” Seungcheol asks.
Jeonghan looks at Seungcheol seriously, “Yes,” he whispers.
“Do it and take me with you,” Seungcheol says, a hardened tone to his voice.
“You can't interfere with it. It'll be hard. You're trained to protect him,” Jeonghan warns.
“Why would I protect someone who told me that my husband was dead only for him to be alive and healthy this whole time?” Seungcheol asks, “Do it.”
Jeonghan gently squeezes Seungcheol hand, before turning back to his weapon and looking down at the window. He didn't know if his opportunity had left him, but the warmth and giddiness from having his husband so close to him filled him with a renewed energy. His husband's warmth moved beside him, keeping an eye out for someone attacking behind. They sat in silence.
It was an hour until dawn, the last hour before he would have to leave before his shield of darkness would be lifted.
A flurry of movement caught his attention. A servant girl opening the curtains. He waited. He breathed. He pressed the trigger.
The shot was quiet, but the resulting scream if the servant girl was not. Jeonghan disassembled his gun and packed it away, grabbing his husband's arm, “Come on. Time to go.”
The escape went smoothly, and Jeonghan thanked the training his husband had been subjected too. He was agile and quick. They reached Jeonghans car when the sun began peeking above the mountains. The natural light helped them drive out of the forest. Their labored breathing filled the car, as Jeonghan drove across the border and back to the safety zone.
Jeonghan looked at Seungcheol, there were glimpses of the boy he once knew, but an unfamiliar man sitting beside him.
“Cheollie, I never did anything with anyone…” Jeonghan starts.
“Even if you did, I wouldn't be upset. You deserve a happy life and to have someone love you,” Seungcheol says.
“I couldn't… They weren't you,” Jeonghan admits. “I couldn't let myself move on. I would lose the desire to fight this battle and I'm glad I didn't. It brought me back to you.”
“Even if I'm not the same person?” Seungcheol asks.
“Even more so. We're both changed men, Cheollie. It doesn't take away my love for you, and my willingness to learn about the new you too love you even more,” Jeonghan murmurs.
Jeonghan pulls up to a small cottage, nestled in between larger trees. “We'll go to my headquarters tomorrow. For now, we get cleaned up and rest.”
“Is this where you live?” Seungcheol asks.
“Yes, it's safe, secure, and it's mine,” Jeonghan answers. “Let's go inside.”
Seungcheol follows quietly behind Jeonghan. He unlocks the front door and disable the security system. Seungcheol closed the door behind him.
“You're safe here,” Jeonghan promises. “You could use a shower. Jesus, what did they do to you,” he murmurs unhappily, taking Seungcheol hand and leading him to the en suite bathroom. He runs the warm tap water, and turns to the man. “May I?” He gestures to the ratty clothing hanging off of Seungcheol body.
Seungcheol takes a second to nod to give his consent.
Jeonghans fingers nimble unbutton the shirt and push it off if his shoulders and of his arms, the material falling to the floor. It's even Jeonghan notices the necklace, a silver chain holding an all too familiar ring. The gold wedding band resting snugly on his chest. He picked out that band. He had it sized. He had it engraved. Jeonghan lifted the ring up, to look on the inner band to see the engraving of their initials.
“I was told to lose it,” Seungcheol says, interrupting the quiet. “It was the one rebellious thing that I did, keeping it.”
Jeonghan still wore his ring. W white gold band sitting prettily on his finger. He only took it off when he was in a job across the border. “I only take mine off when I cross the border,” Jeonghan says, moving to the jewelry box on his counter and opening it to reveal the treasured ring. He picked it up and showed Seungcheol.
Seungcheol takes the ring from him, “Your hand.”
Jeonghan gives him his hand, watching as Seungcheol places the ring back into his finger where it belongs.
Seungcheol takes off the chain and let's the ring fall into his palm. Jeonghan takes it, and slides the ring onto the finger with only a little give.
“I didn't realize how much I loved you until I was taken from you,” Seungcheol started. “The thought of you sustained me.”
“The same for me,” Jeonghan murmurs.
He returned to the task at hand, unbuckling the belt and remixing the cargo pants. Seungcheol tired off his shoes, revealing his bare feet. He removed the briefs, letting Seungcheol step out of the discarded clothing before moving him to the bath tub.
Seungcheol stepped into the water, groaning at the warmth, and easily sat down. Seungcheol looked like he was covered in layers of dirt and sweat. He picked up a rag and squeezed the mint and cucumber body wash into the towel before he pressed it onto Seungcheols chest and began rubbing the filth away.
“Hannie, you don't have to,” Seungcheol says.
“You're my husband, and you haven't bathed or relaxed in in who knows how long. Of course I'm going to,” Jeonghan answers.
Eventually, Seungcheol had to stand up and let the water drain. Jeonghan used the shower head to make quick with of cleaning and rinsing his husband's body. He filled the tub up a second time, now that Seungcheols buddy was clean, and could properly soak.
He wet Seungcheols hair, and began shampooing it. He lathered the shampoo into the hair, and let his fingers gently massage his husband's scalp. Soft moans escaped his husband's lips.
He rinsed off the suds before he put in the conditioner to take care of the ends and to soften the hair.
Once the conditioner was rinsed out, Jeonghan rose from his kneeling position to grab a towel. With the fluffy material sitting on the counter, Jeonghan watched Seungcheol breathing lightly. His skin glistening and clean. His hair once again shiny. He looked so much younger.
Seungcheol was wrapped up in the towel and a robe, sitting in front of the vanity. Jeonghan was easily trimming Seungcheols hair to where it was even and less choppy. He easily shaved the overgrown undercut.
Once his hair was fixed, Jeonghan applied toner to Seungcheols face and then a light moisturizer. Seungcheol watched Jeonghan taking care of him.
“While I grabbed the towel and robe, I made some stew and rice for us,” Jeonghan says. “The clothes for you are on the bed, get dressed while I rinse off,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.
Seungcheol watched Jeonghan enter the bathroom, and unashamedly peeling off his own clothes. Jeonghan had one been lean and delicate, but now the figure revealed toned muscles and a sturdy figure. The dyed blonde hair that had been cut framed his angelic face perfectly.
Seungcheol looked away and went to get dressed in the clothes laid out for him. A pair of denim jeans, a loose tunic like top, and a pair of socks. He dressed in the comfortable clothing, most excited about the cotton socks warming his cold feet. He padded into the living area, smiling at the familiar and unchanged decorating if his husband. The room smelled of stew, but more importantly it reminded him of safety, comfort, and family.
Jeonghan entered the room in a pair of say washed jeans, loose t shirt, and hair still damp. “Hungry?*
Seungcheol followed his husband to the kitchen where he was ladling the stew into a bowl. He gave him the bowl, before picking up another one and generously scooping up large portions of rice into the bowl. A spoon and chopsticks were given to him, and he was directed towards the table. Jeonghan joined him, placing a glass of water in front of him.
Jeonghans cooking had somehow improved or it could have been the neglect of not being fed regularly and not eating nutritious meals when he was fed. A home cooked meal was like a five course meal.
“Slow down, there's plenty left over baby,” Jeonghan says.
Seungcheol looked up at Jeonghan who was watching him eat. “You try not eating home cooked meals for two years and see how hungry you are. Especially when your husband made it.”
Jeonghan smiled, “There's plenty more where that came from.
They ate in silence. Jeonghan bringing the stew and rice over to them so Seungcheol could have as much as he wanted. Once Seungcheol finished, did Jeonghan clean up the mess.
Seungcheol was told to sit in the other room, and was told to rest if he could. Seungcheol sat in a leather love seat, sinking into the plush furniture. He listened to Jeonghan humming under his breath as he cleaned. Some things never changed.
Seungcheol watched as Jeonghan joined him in the room. They were cleaned and fed, and were alone and safe.
Jeonghan comfortably seemed himself in Seungcheols lap. Seungcheol pulled the man into his chest, letting his husband nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” Seungcheol whispers.
“Thank you for letting me,” Jeonghan murmurs back.
They had a lot to discuss, a lot to talk about and catch up on, but for now the two were happy to be in each other's warmth and fall asleep snuggled up together for the first time in years.