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It’s all one big misunderstanding. Because if there is something Changbin and Seungmin have in common, it is their inability to understand what the other is thinking.
It all began when Seungmin won the Harvest Festival competition. The annual sword fighting game of survival, where contestants duel—though not to death, just to victory—until there’s only one winner. And in the year that Seungmin turned 17, that winner had been him. His victory was a shock to everyone, and word of his talent travelled all over the kingdom: “Have you heard? A farmer’s boy won the Duels! He beat everyone, even the knights and the royal guard!”
He had fought in the game to earn the King’s favour, to get noticed. Seungmin wanted to join the royal guard. His family was poor, and if he could train well enough to earn a position in the Guard, he'd be paid well enough to provide for them. And well, he won. That was sure to get the King’s attention.
That was how Seungmin met Changbin. The King had put him in training with all the lords’ and barons’ sons, with all the promising youth who were fighting for a position in the Guard or to be named Knight. Some faces he saw were new, some he had recognised from the Harvest Festival. One of the latter was (as he soon found out) Seo Chanbin. The young man he'd duelled in the final round of the competition. The second place winner of that year's game.
But maybe that wasn't when it started after all. Maybe their misunderstanding started when Seungmin won again and again, then lost at other times, but always against Changbin, only against Changbin. The two of them were always toe to toe, neck to neck. The best of the best.
Nobody questioned it. Deciding which of the two was better would be tricky, and it came down to the moment just as much as it did to personal opinion, but this one thing, nobody questioned: the two of them were the best swordsmen in the entire Kingdom.
And maybe their misunderstanding began when (since they were the best) the King bestowed upon them the most important title within the Royal Guard: Personal Guard of His Highness the Crown Prince.
Seungmin remembers it clearly as if it were just the day before: meeting the Crown Prince for the first time. Him and Changbin were dressed in fine clothes for the occasion. Well, Seungmin was. Changbin was already always dressed in fine clothes to begin with. Seungmin was the outlier, the son of a peasant among noble youth. He remembers, as if it were yesterday, the odd look Changbin gave him. Seungmin knew the clothes didn't suit him, and surely Changbin thought it was a waste, fitting them for a farmer boy like him. Seungmin remembers the way his face burned with shame, and the way determination felt, settled heavily in the pit of his abdomen. He would make them see; the Crown Prince, the King, Changbin, all of them would see.
He deserved to be there.
They met His Highness in the gardens. Clad in the expensive clothes, they were led outside by the Head of the Royal Guard. The royal family was out for tea, and they invited the two boys to join them. The King congratulated them both.
Seungmin remembers the first words the crown prince ever spoke to him.
"This colour suits you well,"
Seungmin smiles at the memory, looking down at his uniform. Sky blue. That day was the first day he'd worn such a colour. It was reserved for the Personal Guards of the Crown Prince, after all. He remembers those words still, because it was the first time anyone had told him: this is where you belong. After all, who else would have told him such a thing if not Hwang Hyunjin.
"Look at him, being so deep in thought again, with that dumb smile on his face," Changbin's teasing voice pulls Seungmin from his reverie. "Thinking about your crush?" he pokes his elbow into Seungmin's side, who responds with an eye roll.
"Not all of us have enough free time to be thinking of such things, Hyung," he retorts. But he supposes Changbin is right, and he should be more focused on whatever is going on. Which, to be fair, isn't much.
There's a gathering at the palace, a diplomatic banquet that the crown prince was required to attend. Changbin and Seungmin stood on either side of him, ready to act should anyone try to pull something. Which never happened. Really, Seungmin thought, their job was more so just entertaining Hyunjin than actually protecting him.
"Binnie hyung, please don't start a fight," Hyunjin says simply, sipping on the sweet jasmine tea the servants have poured him.
"I'm not starting anything! He was distracted. I was merely stating facts. He's doing his job poorly," Changbin smiles at Seungmin, and there is a challenge in his eyes.
"I'm hardly the only one doing a poor job, Hyung. I'd say you're focusing on me more than on His Royal Highness," he says flatly, eyeing one of the servants as she scurries by them.
"Minnie, don't start too," Hyunjin sighs, setting his cup down. Someone takes it and moves to refill it.
Seungmin shrugs, following Hyunjin's cup with his eyes. He hears Changbin huff next to him.
"This is getting boring," Hyunjin groans. "Can you guys do your thing? I'm bored,"
Seungmin's eyes widen, and he abandons his cup-watching duties in favour of giving Hyunjin an incredulous look. "Here?"
Hyunjin shrugs, a glint in his eyes. "Why not? These old ministers deserve some actual good entertainment in their lives, no?"
Changbin snorts. Their eyes meet, and Seungmin is suddenly eager to do as Hyunjin requested.
"Alright," he agrees. "You're sharpening my swords if I win," he adds, his words addressed to Changbin.
"We have servants for that,"
"Don't worry, it's not that hard, I'm sure you'll figure out how to do it," Seungmin smiles innocently.
Changbin scoffs. "I'm not saying I don't know how to do it."
"Good! You can prove it after I beat you."
"If you beat me."
"When I beat you,"
"Girls, you're both pretty, now please , go entertain the masses," Hyunjin cuts them off with a roll of his eyes. He makes a shoo-ing motion with his hand, and the two guards exchange one last glance before they grab their swords and make their way to the middle of the banquet hall.
Hyunjin makes eye contact with his father, and gestures towards the two sky-blue swordsmen. The King smiles, and rises to his feet.
"Esteemed guests! For your entertainment tonight, please allow us to give you: the two most skilled duellers of our nation! They shall show off their talent for your enjoyment. Please cheer them on." The announcement is curt, and Seungmin has barely started stretching when already the attention of the room is on him. Well. On them .
Once the acknowledging cheers and applause dies down, Seungmin takes one last steadying breath. His sword is drawn. Changbin's eyes are on him. He isn't smiling.
Changbin doesn't smile when he fights. Ever. It's one of the only times where he's this serious.
Changbin is... loud, most times. Cracking jokes with the rest of the Guard. He's always greeting the noblemen and the lords who visit the Palace politely and warmly, like he's meeting a distant family member—and maybe he is, Seungmin doesn't know. He doesn't care. Changbin's carefree and vibrant attitude is unfamiliar and unattractive to him. He doesn't understand the jokes (Sometimes he doesn't even understand the words. The posh accent and the city dialect is still foreign to him, though he'd learned to mimic it well over the years.) and he only feels comfortable with cold politeness, bowing his head to everyone he knows he has to.
Changbin, most times, is in a world that Seungmin has no way of fitting into. Someplace unreachable.
But whenever Changbin's sword is unsheathed and pointed towards him, that world disappears. Everything disappears, along with his smile. And Seungmin finds himself someplace that only has room for the two of them.
The sounds of the people around them dull, fading to silence. All that remains is Changbin's eyes staring into his, and two swords about to clash.
Who moves first doesn't matter. Instantly, they're reacting to one another and the fight begins.
Seungmin faintly registers the sounds of cheers as the two of them dance around each other expertly, their movements, as always, in a perfect harmony. After all these years, he has become intimately familiar with how Changbin fights, and vice versa. He anticipates the next move the older man's going to make and is met with a parry on his counter attack. They can't land hits on each other anymore.
Which is why Seungmin gets the idea to stop fighting the way he always would. If he wants to do better than Chanbin, he has to stop being so predictable.
So on the attack where he's always moved the same way, hitting, parrying and stepping aside to let Changbin move closer before countering his attack—well. He does something else.
Changbin, as intended, doesn't anticipate his movement and his eyes go wide when he sees Seungmin take a step closer instead of away. The flat of Seungmin's sword clashes against Changbin's own, the blades crossing between them at an odd angle. They're at a stalemate.
Neither of them are quite sure where to go from here. They stand there for a second, panting heavily, barely a step between them.
But Seungmin isn't the only one improvising today. Chengbin's leg shoots out while they're having their staring contest, and he makes Seungmin lose his footing. He stumbles back, and—in his panic—moves without thinking. He grabs onto the first thing he can reach: Changbin's collar.
Their swords clatter to the ground along with them, both of them letting go of their weapon to try and soften the impact of their fall. Changbin still ends up crashing into Seungmin's chest, knocking the air out of his lungs.
"Fuck," they breathe out at the same time, at a volume that only they were supposed to hear. But the cheers in the room have stopped, a tense silence taking over.
That's embarrassing.
Changbin scrambles to his feet as gracefully as he can, picking up his sword to try and pin Seungmin down before he recovers. An easy win. But when he swings the weapon to point it at Seungmin, the younger man already has his own one in his hand. Metal meets metal and soon they're both back on their feet, the fight resuming.
They don't dare try anything new for the rest of their fight.
In the end, Changbin falters first. It's a tenth of a second, but it's one that Seungmin takes advantage of. He disarms Changbin swiftly, and the fight is over.
The room erupts in cheers, as if their earlier hiccup never happened. The ministers all raise their cups for Seungmin, and congratulations are yelled from all around him. They give curt bows, and Seungmin gives the King one deep bow, which is met with a smile and a nod.
He still belongs here.
They return to Hyunjin's side wordlessly. The crown prince is looking between them, doing his best to police his face from giving away any emotion. But Seungmin sees the smile he's holding back.
Changbin doesn't speak to him for the rest of the evening, which is par for the course. The older man is a sore loser, and has been one since Seungmin met him four years ago. So he thinks nothing of it.
Until Changbin walks into their shared bedchamber with a dark expression and comes to stand next to Seungmin's bed. He waits with his arms crossed, so Seungmin finishes the paragraph he's reading, then puts his book down. He looks up at the other guard.
"What is it?"
"What the hell was your little stunt today, huh?"
Seungmin rolls his eyes. "It's called improvising,"
"The hell do you need that for?"
"To beat you," Seungmin raises an eyebrow. He knows for a fact that Changbin is as aware of their mutual familiarity with one another's fighting style as he is.
"You're perfectly capable of that without embarrassing us like that in front of His Highness,"
"As if he gives a damn. He probably thought it was hilarious. Didn't you see him trying not to laugh?" Seungmin shrugs, standing up.
He pushes against Changbin's chest with the hand that has the book in it to make him move. Changbin steps aside to let him put the book on the shelf above their shared desk. (There's little study space required for the work of a guard.)
"Why are you so flustered anyway? Must be bad if you're complimenting me," he turns back once the book is in its proper place. Changbin frowns.
"I wasn't complimenting you."
"I seem to recall you saying I am perfectly capable of beating you," Seungmin smiles impishly. "Something you usually wouldn't be caught dead admitting, even though we both know it's true."
"True my ass," Changbin retorts without hesitation. He steps towards Seungmin. "I'm still stronger than you."
Four years ago Seungmin would have been scared. Because it was true. Changbin was stronger, though much shorter than him. He was also older and had been training longer. He knew more about the way the Palace worked. Seungmin always thought Changbin was, in many ways, better than him.
But not anymore.
Seungmin met his challenge head on, taking a step forward. "Are you though?" The question is teasing, and Changbin isn't smiling. Good, Seungmin thinks. Let him think this is a fight. In flights, they're equals.
"I don't think you're much stronger anymore. I've been training well," He says, and Changbin's eyes darken. Seungmin smirks. "Why do you even care so much? Are you really that desperate to show off, Hyung? That scared you'll look bad in front of His Highness ?"
Changbin scoffs. "You're one to talk. I'm not the one trying to impress him with my every breath," he says, poking Seungmin in the chest.
".....I'm sorry?" Seungmin's voice is quiet and cold.
"Isn't that it?" Changbin says, voice flat. "You always act like you're so calm, so cool, unshakable. But really, you're falling over yourself, trying to prove yourself. As if you'd need to," Changbin laughs bitterly. "We both know Hyunjin adores you. He's liked you from the start."
Seungmin takes a deep, steadying breath. It's all a misunderstanding. He's not sure when it began. When Changbin saw him blush, a deep crimson against the sky blue uniform; when Hyunjin told him the clothes, the role suited him. When he eagerly accepted every duel Hyunjin requested they do, doing his best to beat Changbin, to show him who's better. When he'd started learning how to read, asking Hyunjin to teach him when they had the time.
Seungmin isn't sure when it started. But he realises now that Changbin has it all wrong.
"Hyung," Seungmin's voice shakes with anger. How dare he. He's done everything, more than everything, to make him see. How dare he not realise. Seungmin swallows, willing himself to calm down. "I don't care about what Hyunjin thinks about me," he hisses out through gritted teeth.
Changbin glares at him, half angry, half confused. Because if there is one thing they're equally as hopeless at, it's knowing what the other is thinking. "Then what the hell is the point, huh? Why do you—"
"You," Seungmin bites out, voice coming out louder than intended. He takes a breath and lowers his volume. Every muscle in his body is tense. He stares Changbin down. "You, Hyung. You've never—You've never looked at me as your equal."
Changbin's expression changes with his words. His glare falters. Confusion flashes across his features, then realisation, then something Seungmin doesn't recognize. He looks at Seungmin, speechless, gaze flickering over his face like he's trying to read his mind.
"You... you're from a good family, you're smart and you're a damn good swordsman . I... would have been happy having even a small position in the guard. Because for someone like me, even that would have been a miracle." The words are spilling from his mouth now, all he'd been holding back suddenly rushing out into the open before he realises what he's saying. "You were perfectly suited for this job from the beginning; you already knew everything you needed to know, and you were good at doing all of it too. I couldn't—I couldn't even read!"
Seungmin recognizes the look on Changbin's face now. Concern.
"And I did everything, did my best. Yes, to prove myself. To everyone. Because when I got the chance to be here, to work in sky blue, with you ..." Seungmin swallows heavily. "I wanted to do it."
"I..." Changbin trails off, and Seungmin continues before he can.
"I just want you to finally look at me like you think it's okay for us to both be standing by Hyunjin's side. To wear our uniform. I—"
I want you to like me, Seungmin thinks, the realisation hitting him like a truck. His breath is knocked from his chest for the second time this evening. He takes a second to catch it.
"I want you to look at me like your equal," he whispers instead, casting his gaze to the ground.
Silence is all that exists between them for an agonizingly long moment. Then Changbin calls out to him, softer than Seungmin's ever heard. It makes his heart skip a beat.
"Minnie..."
His face burns at the affectionate nickname. He's used to hearing it from Hyunjin, and he's more than familiar with the mocking tone Changbin so often says it in. But this, the gentleness of the older guard's voice, is new.
"I've never seen you as my equal," Changbin says and Seungmin swallows. He is painfully aware of this. "I don't think I ever will, to be honest," Seungmin thinks he will cry.
Changbin's hand enters his field of vision. It's brushing against his skin gently, cupping his face and turning his head upwards until their eyes meet.
"I've always thought you were better than me. Better than everyone. And I won't ever be able to catch up to you." Changbin looks at him and Seungmin feels like he's seeing him for the first time. "I won't ever be able to... to be your equal, Minnie. You—you're far too great for that."
It's Seungmin's turn to gape like a fish, speechless.
"Hyung—"
"And also, I hate you," Changbin says, the (shy????) smile that adorns his features giving a stark contrast to his words. "For thinking so little of yourself in my name,"
"Hyung," Seungmin sobs, unable to hold out any longer. Relief washes over him in waves, and he feels dizzy. Changbin pulls him into a hug, and he collapses against him. He makes himself smaller to fit better into Changbin's arms, and cries. The older man holds him until he calms down, and then he holds him some more. He refuses to let go even when Seungmin starts pushing him away. He clings to him until Seungmin is actually getting annoyed, telling him to just let go already. Then he grins.
"See? Still stronger."
"I hate you,"
"Somehow I'm beginning to doubt that," Changbin says with a sudden air of seriousness, which has heat travelling up Seungmin's neck to then rest on his cheeks.
"Yeah, well." He does his best to remember how to feign nonchalance. "Just make sure Hyunjin doesn't start doubting it, or we'll never hear the end of it," he says, and Changbin doesn't respond. He looks over to see why, and sees the other staring at him.
"What?"
"You—Do you realise what you're implying?" Changbin smiles. A lopsided, lazy, teasing smile.
Seungmin blinks.
"No," he says, you know, like a liar .
Changbin snorts. He then grabs his pillow and makes his way to Seungmin's bed.
"What are you doing?" Seungmin asks, a couple notes higher than intended.
"Sharing is caring, move over," Changbin says, kicking him with his knee. Seungmin is too flustered to argue. He scoots over without much thought. Changbin throws his pillow on the bed next to Seungmin's and makes himself comfortable. He lies down like he owns the place.
"What are you doing?" Seungmin repeats, staring down at the other guard.
"We're having a moment. We're bonding," Changbin chuckles to himself before he adds: "Hyunjin would be proud,"
Seungmin rolls his eyes. He lies down next to Changbin without arguing further. They stare at the ceiling of their shared bedchamber in silence for god knows how long. It's the most comfortable Seungmin has ever felt around the older man, besides whenever he has a sword to his throat.
Odd.
They don't talk much that night. But Changbin is right. It is a bonding moment, and it definitely allows them to get closer.
It starts with the small things. Like the two of them sitting down after duels and actually talking about what they've done. They both start trying new things when they fight, some more successful than others; and they start discussing the new techniques afterwards.
Or like the way Changbin will nudge Seungmin when they're standing guard on Hyunjin's sides, nodding towards an odd looking figure. He starts doing this after Seungmin starts telling him everything he notices during banquets--which, Changbin realises, is a lot. Seungmin's ability to keep track of various guests shocks Changbin, but he quickly finds a way to work with it.
It starts with the small things, but slowly the two of them become a team. A unit.
And after a few more awkward steps, some of which are stumbles, they become something more.
When Hyunjin celebrates his twenty-second birthday, they stand guard for him. They watch over him together, listening to him chat with the crown princes from the neighbouring kingdoms. Seungmin watches one of the princes lean close to Hyunjin. He's nervous, but only until he sees them both erupt in laughter. He feels Changbin's gaze on him, so he looks over. The other guard gives him a knowing look, and reaches over to surreptitiously squeeze his hand in reassurance.
Seungmin looks back to Hyunjin, who's smiling at them both. He beckons them closer and whispers in their ears. When he's done speaking they straighten up with matching grins, making their way to the middle of the banquet hall.
The other crown prince, Felix, leans over. "I heard there was some gossip in your regions about these guards. What's going on with them?"
Hyunjin giggles, his eyes small crescents as he speaks.
"Haven't you heard?" He looks out at the two, who are already drawing their swords.
"The peasant Master Swordsman is having an affair with the Royal Guard's number one bigshot!"