Work Text:
A king cannot appear ill or weak or unfit to rule. And although the palace often used illnesses as excuses for Lee Gon’s disappearances, the news were always communicated through carefully worded statements which were followed with the image of a young, healthy and safe monarch. An image that everyone in the palace worked to maintain.
For the captain of the Royal Guard, more than his work, it was his duty.
It’s a fact that Lee Gon is overly dramatic. He makes a huge deal of small things, he pouts, he demands everyone’s attention when he is in the room and he tends to exaggerate his feelings or even fake them - except when he doesn’t. Yeong knows his moves by heart; sometimes he falls for Gon’s acting, but that’s just to err on the side of caution. That’s not what matters. What matters is that he knows.
He knows when he has to divert other people’s – and even his own subordinates’ – attention away from His Majesty, he knows when close becomes close enough and he knows when he simply cannot pass on his shift to his sub commandant because he must stay and guard. And that’s what he does, since the price for failure can be too high.
Well, he does... as much as His Majesty lets him. Sometimes he watches by standing next to him, keeping track of every single detail of their surroundings. Other times, he can only see over the cameras, keeping open the line with his team for the moment he needs to give out orders. Most of the days, though, he is just there on the corner, silently waiting for the inevitable.
Lee Gon knows. When he is aware, given the opportunity, he will find one way or another of playing off his request for help as if it’s just one of his antics.
But it’s not always that he can.
A look, an involuntary movement or a staggering breath could be all the cue that Yeong may end up getting from a king struggling to keep up the pretences. It’s the signal that he, and he alone, ought to do something to fix the situation.
Which doesn’t necessarily mean he always makes the smartest decision.
The first reaction is always to cover it up. Be as discreet as possible while maintaining a resemblance of normalcy. People around them do not need to know what is happening while they work to mitigate the problem.
“Focus on driving only. That is best for His Majesty's safety,” he says, defining their course of action.
He should be the one to be focused on His Majesty's safety – and they should keep going, get to their next appointment without a fuss, without anyone else actually knowing what is going on. He hopes that creating this distraction will be more than enough to allow His Majesty to find his bearings. As long as he is not wrong...
His eyes glued to the right side mirror of the car, he keeps track of each movement Lee Gon’s hands do while fighting with the garments.
Twenty-two seconds. That’s how long it takes for him to figure out how to slide down the knot of his tie. Too long – and sweat is already beaming down his head. The forced breaths getting louder as he tries to pop open the top button of his new shirt, the one that he should have been able to get loose at least fifteen seconds ago.
“We are pulling over. Eyes on our surroundings.” Yeong commands over the comms, nodding for the driver to take the side lane and stop the car. No one dares to contradict the captain or to demand an explanation. Yeong opens the door, walks around and sits behind the driver.
Trapped on reliving memories from long ago, unable to draw a proper breath as if someone was indeed choking him, Lee Gon is unaware of who just sat beside him. There is no point in trying to get him back to the present before resolving what is triggering him. Acting as quickly as possible, Yeong pulls his pocketknife and cuts off the top two buttons of the shirt in a matter of seconds.
A gasp and the way Gon’s head falls backwards, eyes half-closed, tells him all he needs to know. Crisis adverted; despite the way his hands curl on his sides, despite him not saying a single word, the king will be alright.
“His Majesty ordered me to sit on the back. Not a word of this,” he tells the driver. He shouldn’t need to, it’s a Royal Guard’s duty to keep silent about anything he has seen or heard on the job, but Yeong can’t help but do everything he can to try and protect Lee Gon.
He glances to His Majesty one more time and holds back a sigh before using the comms again.
“Ho-Pil, reach out to the Public Affairs Office. We are going back to Gwangyeongjeon” is all he says. The fact they are going back should be more than enough for Seung-Ah to know they had to cancel the appointments for the rest of the day.
“Yes, sir.” comes the answer on his ear and soon enough they are on the move.
It doesn’t take them long to reach the palace.
“Ho-Pil, keep the perimeter.” Once again, Yeong nods to the driver, telling him to keep going and get inside with the rest of the Royal Guards.
There was not much for him to do but hold back and wait.
The King already hates to be touched and, although Yeong knows he can be an exception if needed, he can also perfectly imagine how much more triggering it can be if he does so when Lee Gon is not yet quite aware of his surroundings. His options for offering any measure of comfort are quite limited. He gives his silence, his company, his patience.
He waits until His Majesty comes back to, a raspy voice finally breaking the silence.
“Yeong-Ah...” Lee Gon blinks and squints, tries to focus a little more on the present. “Home...?”
“Yes, Pyeha. How do you feel?”
“I...“ he lets out an involuntary groan, bringing a hand to the scar on his neck before moving it to his forehead. “My head hurts.”
It’s not like Yeong does not expect some lingering effects of the last crisis, but he can’t help but worry; a frown showing up on his face.
“Can you make it to your chambers? I will have the Royal Physician to meet us there.”
“Yes, but no- no Royal Physician. Just get me some medicine.” He keeps going at the very moment Yeong opens his mouth to start voicing his objections. “Don't fret, Yeongie. I’ll be all right.”
“Fine,” Yeong sighs, resigned. He knows it’s true, he knows Gon will be all right, he just wishes there was something he could do to help it happen sooner rather than later.
He opens the door and gets out of the car, offering his hand to help Gon out. They walk through the corridors, Ho Pil keeping the distance enough to give the King his privacy.
“Next time, you’re driving,” His Majesty mumbles.
“So I won’t be able to ruin your outfit?”
Lee Gon looks down, only then seeming to realize the buttons that are missing. He glances back to Yeong and shakes his head.
“Ruin them all! It was a stupid shirt. Why do they make buttons that tiny? I should outlaw them. Too small.” He tries to play it off, emulating the sense of humor of his regular self. Yeong’s expression is enough for him to know he wasn’t very successful. He looks to the ground, sighs, and adds quietly: “Hard to open.”
And Yeong gets it. He understands perfectly well what Lee Gon is saying. Such a shirt should never have made into the King’s wardrobe. Tops should always be easy to vest and even easier to open and take off. Clothes are not allowed to bring up bad memories. If they do, it’s because they have failed.
“I’m sorry, Pyeha,” Yeong says quietly as they get to Gon’s bedroom.
“Now, Yeongie, don’t be like that. It was...” his eyes soften and he takes a step forward, not necessarily to intrude into Yeong’s personal space, just to be closer and look him in the eye. “I’m glad you were there. You did well.”
“Hyung...” his feelings end up spilling into that single word Yeong hasn’t used in years. He didn’t expect this much, it’s a rare occasion when Lee Gon gives voice to his appreciation of Yeong.
“And... after today, we both deserve some rest, hm? Go home, get some sleep.” Lee Gon squeezes his shoulder and forces a smile before walking away. Yeong doesn’t move.
It could very well be a ruse - Lee Gon sending him off to get a chance to disappear again. Yet, something on that voice, something on the way he had been acting told Yeong he could trust. Trust not the King he had just spared from a public meltdown, but trust the man he had swore to protect.
“Unless... do you want to stay here? With me?” Lee Gon’s voice is quiet and it sounds uncharacteristically unsure. For once, though, it seems like he is not trying to get Yeong to pity him; just to make an honest choice.
His Majesty leaves for the bathroom without giving enough time for Yeong to think of an answer, but the fact that he asked was more than enough for Yeong to decide. He opens the bedroom door long enough to tell Ho-Pil to keep his post.
He gets himself busy checking the bedroom all over again, making sure there aren’t any hidden threats implanted there while they had been gone.
“Come to bed,” Gon’s voice interrupts him just after he found one of Lady Noh’s talismans behind the curtains.
Yeong hesitates but does not object, approaching and offering the King the red envelope he holds.
“She won’t give up,” Gon scoffs. “Anyway... tell me what you saw today.”
It’s not a strange request and Yeong knows very well he is not asking about what happened afterwards. It’s Gon’s way of distracting his wandering thoughts, of asking for help to get his mind to focus on something else instead of drifting towards that awful night covered in blood.
“Did you notice who was accompanying Captain Huon in the church?” Yeong sits on the bed and starts with someone they had both known and knew the history, just relevant enough to grab his attention. And he goes on talking about them, his voice low and calm allows Gon to relax, slide down in the bed and synchronize his breathing to the cadence of his words.
“Yeongie,” Gon interrupts him at some point. “Would you... lay down?”
“Pyeha…” this time, Yeong is ready to object, especially since His Majesty did not make that into an order.
Gon closes his eyes, breathing in. His expression carefully trained to mask the contempt he felt for the title, in particular at a time like that; to hide how hurt he actually was by the distance that always existed between him and everyone else, even the people he actually wanted to be close to. And maybe, just maybe, he hides it all too well, hides it from the one he shouldn’t be hiding from.
“What if I wasn’t? If I was just Lee Gon?” And Gon could be merely teasing him, as he had done so many times in the past, except there was no mirth behind his eyes. “Would you? Would you like to?” There was a vulnerability as if he was afraid of being misunderstood or... rejected? The man who claimed to own everything around himself, even Yeong, was opening himself to the possibility of, for once, accept a “no” for an answer. No matter how much would hurt him.
But the truth was that pushing him away would hurt Yeong much more.
“...yes.”
Gon nods without a word, reaches out and gently takes his hand. Yeong cedes, sliding down to lay next to him, face to face.
“So, uh, Captain Huon...” Gon prompts him to continue his tale. “How can you watch all that and not burst out laughing in the middle of the church?”
Yeong smiles.
“Years and years of practice.”
“I know,” Gon says quietly, looking right at him.
They are a lot alike, not because they grew up together, but because of the responsibilities they have, to the others and to each other. For all that His Majesty acts like a spoiled brat in private, every second he is under public eye must be well thought, every act calculated, his genuine emotions rarely being shown.
“You would,” Yeong says quietly, very much aware that His Majesty did not let go of his hand when Gon moves his thumb to caress it.
“Do you want to get some sleep?”
“Close your eyes, Hyung.”
As Goes does so, with his free hand Yeong gently touches his face, caressing it until they drift off.