Chapter Text
“Your Highness.”
A brutally-scarred hand reached across the distance to hover over the young king’s head, which was resting on a large pillow. And with the barest of touches, the hand brushed a stray piece of hair away from his forehead, tickling his cheek just the slightest bit. It was achingly gentle. However, the king still scrunched his nose in mild discomfort, shifting slightly on the bed, blearily opening his eyes like a kid silently peeking open a closed door.
Yoo Joonghyuk wistfully remembered those carefree days.
But he had more pressing matters to think about. His touch was so light, he didn’t expect the king to awaken. In fact, with how his officials have been running the young king ragged, he should be knocked out cold for half a day. At the very least.
Well, Yoo Joonghyuk should know by now that his younger stepbrother was full of surprises.
Despite the faint moonlight filtering in through the window, the king shouldn’t be able to see his face. Yoo Joonghyuk could leave now and slink back into the shadows from whence he came. However—
“...Hyung?” the king muttered, his breath nearly a whisper.
Ah. Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Yoo Joonghyuk smiled at him despite the way his heart cracked. His Dokja, his. Yoo Joonghyuk's chest suddenly felt as though it was caving in. “It’s me, your highness.”
The young king gave him a bright smile, though it was weak due to his grogginess. His starry eyes blinked ever so slowly. “Are you real?”
Yoo Joonghyuk allowed himself to press his hand against Kim Dokja’s cheek in full. His hand, which had shed so much blood, was touching something so pure. It was deplorable.
“It’s just a dream, my beloved.”
His expectations were again upturned when Kim Dokja simply leaned into the warm touch, lips stretching wider. He closed his eyes again, peace clear in every part of his face. “I love this dream. My favorite.”
The pain when Yoo Joonghyuk had a sword run through his abdomen could never compare to the ache that filled his chest at that moment. He suddenly wanted to take Kim Dokja far, far away— lands away from any kingdom that could corrupt him further. He wanted to hide him, keep him safe. He wanted a sacred home that could bear their love, where no one would bother them. They could do it. It was possible.
...But it wasn’t.
After all, Kim Dokja made his choice back then. And Yoo Joonghyuk would respect it. Because that was the least of what Kim Dokja deserved.
However, he could not bear to abandon him. Just as Kim Dokja could not bear to abandon the people, as self-sacrificing as his little brother was. Like a magnet slowly drawing to a natural pull, Yoo Joonghyuk found himself stuck by Kim Dokja’s side once again.
“I’ve just drawn you a bath. You had another long night.”
“I did,” the young king mumbled sleepily. “My older brother is so thoughtful.”
Was he? Yoo Joonghyuk could only stay silent, jaw clenching.
He carried Kim Dokja to his bath, candlelight flickering to life as they passed the entrance. It cast a gentle glow onto Kim Dokja’s skin, which was smooth and soft due to the rich soaps and oils that he was undoubtedly being spoiled in. Yoo Joonghyuk resisted the temptation to kiss the skin as he undressed Kim Dokja, whose head was lolling in exhaustion as Yoo Joonghyuk maneuvered him. He tried not to find it endearing.
By the time Kim Dokja’s body was carried into the hot bathwater, Kim Dokja was fast asleep again. His breaths were soft and deep, much like earlier; the only difference was that the tension in his limbs were gone, as if they had all dissolved into the water. Yoo Joonghyuk silently prayed that each night from then on would be the same, though he knew it was hopeless. He hoped, anyway.
He scrubbed Kim Dokja’s body thoroughly, each touch like a gentle lullaby. Yoo Joonghyuk could not sing for the life of him, but he wondered if Kim Dokja could hear the words in his heart anyway, like sweet melodies that would guide the most restless heart to sleep. I love you, they would say. Even when we are apart. Even if you never look at me again. It knows no bounds.
When the young king was eventually put back to bed, his lips were gently pressed with another’s. Then the shadows were consumed by the dawn, and only light remained.