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Jang Bonghwan had had a feeling that he’d go back one day.
At first, it had been a wish, a fervent dream that he was desperate to see realized no matter what. He wanted to return to his own body, his own time, and take back the master chef persona he’d built himself up to be. He had missed his fame, his freedom, his slew of exes and all the other women lined up to jump into his bed. He’d wanted it all back, at any cost.
But suddenly he had friends that loved him, a cause to fight for, a life he’d crafted. He had Hong Yeon and Court Lady Choi and that stubborn asshole, the royal cook Manbok. He had a father that was only sort of his, but he loved as much as his own.
He had a husband. Their baby growing in his belly. He had fallen in love.
It was then that his wish to go back had soured, rotted into a selfish dread that gripped his throat with so much anxiety he thought it would kill him. He didn’t want to go back. But this wasn’t his body. And even if he’d lived in it for several months now, it wasn’t his life.
He wasn’t surprised when he collapsed one day, on his way to visit the kitchens when a sharp pain lanced through his skull. He didn’t remember falling, or really anything beyond that initial stab straight through his nerves. He merely thought “ah, there it is” and was suddenly submerged in water.
It didn’t feel like normal water, if that at all made sense. It was bluer, almost glowy. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. He just felt like he was floating, his soul drifting in a vacuous space of nothing. The sight was too familiar.
Anxiety curled its burning talons around his throat, and he swallowed. He wasn’t even sure if he had a body, but the emotions still manifested in a way he could recognize. Either way, he was resolved to it, even as the dread sunk in. Even when he saw the floating body of Kim Soyong drift toward him, hair and hanbok floating around her in a haunting halo.
“Knew you’d come back,” he said, managing a small half-smile. In his time in Joseon, inhabiting the body of a woman he’d never really met, he’d found that he’d developed a strange affection for Kim Soyong. And it really was strange, because the old him would have felt something more sinful when his thoughts came to women. But nowadays, he rarely thought about women that way anymore. And with Kim Soyong, he only felt kinship. He loved her, in a way. Almost like a sister.
Kim Soyong smiled at him, the corners of her lips tilting up softly. “How are you, Jang Bonghwan?”
It was strange to hear someone call him by his real name. The syllables came with a bittersweet happiness. He shrugged, arms crossing over his chest. “Fine, all things considered. Almost froze to death in the woods, your cousin tried to kill me, I got shot, survived a coup while very pregnant… Still surprised I’m not dead.”
He eyed her carefully, taking in her expression. He thought she might be more happy once this moment finally came, when they came face-to-face at the end of the line. But she seemed subdued. “How are you?”
“Fine,” she echoed. “You lead an… interesting life. Korea was a shock, to say the least. I almost didn’t know what to do with myself.”
He had seen a few glimpses of her new life, just like she’d seen glimpses of his. It was truly impressive how well Kim Soyong had adapted. She’d certainly done better than him, especially considering she’d woken up in the middle of a police investigation. Still, it probably wasn’t a pleasant existence. He hadn’t exactly been good at making friends.
“Well, I’m sure you’re ready to have your life back,” he sighed, gesturing her over. “Let’s get this over with. You have to kiss me or something, right? Let’s do it.”
He braced himself, holding his nonexistent breath as he waited for her to drift over. She didn’t.
“I think we should talk,” Kim Soyong said, making Jang Bonghwan blink.
“About?”
“I…” She hesitated, glancing at him, uncertainly. The image of her was almost eerie, but beautiful, illuminated by a soft white light behind her. Like the sun was shining on the surface of the water, backing her. “Do you… want to switch back?”
“Of course I do,” he answered quickly, too quickly, and Kim Soyong raised an eyebrow. “I mean. Why wouldn’t I? You have my body and my life and access to the internet. And running water and air conditioning. And God, a fully stocked kitchen with ingredients from every corner of the world. All around, it’s a better deal. One with a higher quality of life and longer life-expectancy.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“You—” Jang Bonghwan stared at her. “What? What do you mean? You don’t want your life back?”
She bit her lip. “If I’m being honest… if we’re both being honest… it’s not mine anymore. And this one isn’t yours.”
That should’ve sounded threatening. By all means. An astral projection of the soul inhabiting his body was telling him she didn’t want to give it back. She had taken ownership of it, stolen it. But she was correct.
“What… exactly happened?” Jang Bonghwan finally asked, trying to stem the sudden anticipation building in his chest. “Why don’t you want to come back? I didn’t exactly leave you in the lap of luxury.”
“I made the most of it,” she answered flippantly, with a shrug of her shoulders. “Just as you did. I grew attached.”
“To what? My fame? My devastating good looks? My toxic reputation as a womanizer?”
“A woman.” She didn’t blink, her shoulders square. “I love her.”
“…Oh.”
She smiled at him then, head tilting to the side. “You mean to tell me you haven’t formed any similar attachments? I find that hard to believe. You’re pregnant, correct? You carry a royal child.”
Jang Bonghwan coughed, awkwardly turning his head so he wouldn’t have to look her in the eye. He still couldn’t really believe it himself.
“This new life you gave me,” she began, gathering her thoughts. “I don’t think I can give it up. I shouldn’t. That might be selfish of me, but I feel it would be a disservice to myself. I wasn’t happy as the queen-to-be. But I’m happy now.”
Her eyes shifted, looking at him briefly. “Unless… you really do want it back. It was yours first, after all.”
“I…” Jang Bonghwan paused, swallowed. “I don’t.”
She looked at him then. She smiled. “Then I think we’re in agreement. We stay as we are.”
Jang Bonghwan’s mind raced. “But you won’t miss your family? Your father? Hong Yeon or Court Lady Choi or…”
“I will.” She blinked, the space between her brows pinched ever-so-slightly. “Of course I will. Please take care of them for me.”
They said nothing for a long moment. Jang Bonghwan thought in silence, trying to come up with any further reason why he should refuse this. This shouldn’t be their choice. They were each 200 years removed from their own times, it wasn’t natural. But he wanted to go with it. So badly.
“Would you be happier? If we switched back?”
She waited for his answer. His silence was enough. The warmth in her expression made him feel like maybe this was the right decision. At least for them.
“Goodbye, Jang Bonghwan. Thank you for everything.”
“I’m glad you’re happier,” he finally said, his thoughts slowly catching up. And he meant it. She had been so miserable before, enough that she’d sought to take her own life. And now she was fighting so hard to live.
“Take care of my mother,” he added, throat closing. “And don’t fuck up my reputation, Kim Soyong. I worked hard on that.”
“Too late, women everywhere are already devastated.”
He chuckled, overwhelmed with the urge to hug her. But he didn’t. It might not have been a kiss, but somehow, touching her felt like the key to switch back, and they didn’t want that.
“Goodbye, Soyong-ah. I wish you the best.”
Her smile was the last thing he saw before he was enveloped in darkness.
Jang Bonghwan woke up before sunrise, the paper screen borders of his room tinted a pale blue with the coming dawn. He was on his back, covered in layers of thick blankets, brain still foggy from whatever astral bullshit he’d gone through.
Blinking into consciousness, he turned over onto his side with a groan, fighting off the remnants of a headache as his eyes settled on a sleeping figure beside him.
He easily recognized the red dragon robes of the king. Cheoljong’s head was barely pillowed on the edge of his bedding, body resting on the bare, wooden floor.
Jang Bonghwan studied him for a long moment, a smile pulling at his mouth without his permission. He felt warmth spread through him, unable to stop himself as he reached his hand up to cup the king’s jaw, thumb gently stroking his cheek.
“Jong-ie,” he said, tutting. “You’re shattering your reputation as a spoiled, idiotic king. Pull yourself together.”
Cheoljong stirred a little, muttering something as his eyes fluttered open, just a crack. He squinted at Jang Bonghwan briefly, uncomprehending, before he closed his eyes. And then they shot open again.
“My queen,” Cheoljong said, sitting up as his hand automatically went to press Jang Bonghwan’s tighter against his cheek. He leaned over him urgently, eyes flitting over his face. “You’re awake. Are you in pain? How do you feel?”
“Shhh, I’m fine.” Jang Bonghwan gave his best smile, patting his face. “I’m sorry I made you worry about me. You should be sleeping in a real bed. Or at least sleeping properly in this one. The bare floor is bad for your back and you won’t get any quality rest like that.”
“I don’t care about my back,” Cheoljong said firmly. He pulled Jang Bonghwan’s hand from his cheek and placed a kiss to his knuckles, rubbing warmth into them. “I needed to keep watch over you.”
Jang Bonghwan felt his chest swell. He suddenly wanted to thank Kim Soyong for letting him have this. He regretted not saying the words to her when he had the chance, but he had a feeling she knew anyway.
“I’ll call for the royal physician,” Cheoljong said, pulling away to fully sit up.
Jang Bonghwan tightened his grip on his hand. “I feel fine, I don’t need that right now.”
“But—”
“I just… can you lay down? At least pretend to get some sleep before you have to go to a royal council meeting or a lesson or whatever?”
Cheoljong studied him, and Jang Bonghwan tried not to let his face betray his emotions. Truthfully, he was desperate to hold Cheoljong, to know that he was real and this wasn’t some cruel dream he’d wake up from 200 years in the future. He wanted something solid, tangible. He needed Cheoljong to comfort him.
Finally, Cheoljong gave a small smile and carefully slid onto the bedding. Once he lowered his head onto the edge of the pillow, Jang Bonghwan wasted no time in tucking himself against Cheoljong’s chest, throwing an arm over his waist to tug him closer. In return, Cheoljong’s hand went to his back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, his arm a gentle weight that enveloped him.
“Get some beauty sleep,” Jang Bonghwan said, closing his eyes. “You’re uglier when you don’t sleep.”
Cheoljong’s chest shook with a chuckle, and Jang Bonghwan smiled.
They fell asleep not long after.
As the days passed, Jang Bonghwan slowly came to terms with the permanence of his new life. It was strange, but since his fainting spell, he’d felt a complete severance from Kim Soyong. Before, there had been a residual connection, one that let them glimpse each other’s lives and thoughts, even memories, but he knew now that she was gone. Her old body, her old life, was his alone. It was a loss, but also a closure. A new beginning. He’d miss her, but he’d always be thankful.
But the acceptance of this left him with several things he needed to come to terms with.
These things pushed themselves to the forefront of his mind when he finally managed to convince Cheoljong they should sneak out of the palace. After all the coup bullshit and the stress, they deserved a day off just to fuck around. It only took a little begging for Cheoljong to agree, and the two of them had dressed up in commoner’s clothes to get some dakjuk and visit the market.
Cheoljong didn’t say anything as Jang Bonghwan emerged from his rooms as Lee Saengmang, though he did give him a look as they left. While Jang Bonghwan did admit skirts were extremely comfortable and convenient, and he found satisfaction in dressing the part of the ethereal beauty that ruled the inner court, he felt a different kind of joy when he dressed as a man. He didn’t necessarily feel uncomfortable anymore in the body of a woman, but having the world perceive him as a man just felt more right.
Not only that, but he felt an even greater joy, almost excitement, when he caught Cheoljong looking at him as Lee Saengmang. He saw the way he’d looked him up and down, a smile pulling at his lips, and noticed the eager hand that grabbed his when they ran into the streets of Hanyang, both giddy and full of adrenaline at the prospect of doing something that would surely get their respective servants pissed at them. Jang Bonghwan even felt the unmistakable pressure of a hand at his back as Cheoljong guided him through busy streets, weaving them between heavy carts and customers trying to bargain. Sure, Cheoljong could’ve just been attracted to Kim Soyong’s body, but the idea that he wasn’t strictly attracted to Jang Bonghwan for that reason filled him with unparalleled happiness.
His time in Joseon had brought a slew of identity crises, for gender and sexuality alike, and Jang Bonghwan suddenly mourned his painful lack of access to Google. He had never considered himself to be queer until Cheoljong, but now he was mad at himself for his willing ignorance of the LGBTQ community. He’d never bothered learning before, being perfectly comfortable as a straight, cisgender man.
But now he supposed he was none of those things. At the very least, he was bisexual. Maybe even trans? Did transmigrating into the body of a woman 200 years in the past make him a trans man now? Time travel certainly didn’t help in making any of this less complicated, but he mostly mourned not having access to any help. Being queer at all was absolutely taboo at this point in history, so he could only scramble on his own to figure out just what exactly he was and what it meant in the tortured solitude of his own mind.
All Jang Bonghwan really knew for sure was that he’d stopped thinking about women. He had no desire to visit a pleasure house or pursue any of his past schemes to sleep with the king’s consorts. He only really looked at and thought about Cheoljong, someone who was most certainly a man. He’d denied it at first, had an entire crisis about having sex with the man and liking it, but eventually decided “fuck it, if I could die tomorrow, I might as well do whatever the fuck I want.”
“What’s bothering you, my queen?” whispered Cheoljong just a breath away from Jang Bonghwan’s ear as he absently inspected some ginseng at a stall. “I’m surprised that root hasn’t grown legs and walked away. You’ve been staring at it for ages.”
“Don’t interrupt my process,” he hissed back. “A good chef always checks the quality of his produce. I’m processing.”
Cheoljong hummed, leaning away as Jang Bongwhan hastily put the ginseng in his basket and pulled out some coins. “It’s getting a little late. Do you want to start heading back?”
“Sure, if you want to.”
Jang Bonghwan thanked the vendor and the two walked off, winding their way between stalls and the shopping crowd as they marched in the direction of the palace. It was still particularly crowded, even as the sky turned orange from the lowering sun, but apparently a new shipment of goods had come in from the south, so people were taking advantage.
As they left the bustling chatter of the crowd, Jang Bonghwan’s thoughts only got louder. He couldn’t help glancing at Cheoljong beside him, mind racing. He wanted to ask him, but a visceral fear had settled in his chest, clawing its way up his throat. He almost didn’t want to know the answer, but it killed him more not to know. Either way, he felt he should ask before he had to put on skirts again.
Jang Bonghwan came to a stop in a deserted street, the barest wisps of sunlight bleeding into dusk in front of them. Cheoljong didn’t take long to notice.
“My queen?”
“Cheoljong, can I… can we talk?” Jang Bonghwan steeled himself, took a breath.
“Of course.” Cheoljong immediately doubled back, coming to stand in front of him and placing their little basket at his feet. “What’s troubling you?”
Jang Bonghwan didn’t say anything at first, still trying to psych himself up.
“Is it… did you want to…” Cheoljong gave him a look, one that Jang Bonghwan knew all too well. “My queen, it’s not very safe to engage in that kind of activity in public, especially in a quiet backstreet like this… but I admit there is a certain appeal.”
Cheoljong stepped closer, their chests almost touching as he raised his eyebrows suggestively. Jang Bonghwan couldn’t help the huff of air that escaped him, a cross between a scoff and a laugh, placing a hand on the other’s chest to keep some distance between them.
“Is that all you think about? First the dusty bottom of that shitty storage chest and now here? What’s wrong with you?”
“I am merely in love, my queen. What crime is there in that?”
“Public indecency. Exibitionism.”
“Yes, but I’m the king, so what does it matter?”
Jang Bonghwan felt his chest loosen the smallest bit. “Whatever. Maybe next time. Look.”
He sighed, hand balling into a fist in Cheoljong’s shirt. Cheoljang lifted his own hand and placed it over his. He waited. Jang Bonghwan never appreciated him more.
He hated feeling so vulnerable, and the old version of him would have done anything, even chewed off his own arm, to avoid heart-to-heart conversations like this. He used to think emotions were a useless waste of time, but recent events had faced him with life-and-death scenarios and feelings and junk. Now it all came naturally. But not naturally enough that he suddenly knew how to handle it. There was still a steep learning curve and he hated it.
“Do you remember when I told you that I was a time traveler from 200 years in the future?”
“And that you’re actually a man trapped in Kim Soyong’s body?” Cheoljong’s mouth quirked up a little at the corner. “No, I don’t recall.”
Jang Bonghwan smiled a little, despite his anxiety. “Well, how would you feel if that were true?”
Cheoljong seemed to think it over, replying carefully. “And what do you mean by that? Feel about what?”
“How would you feel about… me?” Jang Bonghwan couldn’t help that his voice grew smaller. He felt smaller, unable to look his husband in the eye. “Knowing that I’m a man inside. That I’ve been a man since Kim Soyong threw herself in the lake that night.”
The alley was silent, but Jang Bonghwan felt the distant sounds of the street behind them roar in his ears. The amalgamated cacophony of street vendors, the crowd, rumbling carts, all pressed in on his eardrums. The soundtrack to a fractured moment in time where nothing about his life was certain. He felt like he was on a plane and his ears wouldn’t pop.
“My queen.” Cheoljong’s voice was quiet, a low rumble in front of him. “Have I done something to make you doubt my devotion to you? What must I do to prove myself?”
“No. It’s not that.”
Jang Bonghwan couldn’t really understand why he was like this. What happened to the man who would do anything for power? The one that agreed to marry the King, pamper the Grand Queen Dowager, carry a royal child, all for the chance at seizing power? What did it matter if Cheoljong loved him as a man or not? Why did it matter if he knew the difference?
He felt hands graze his elbows, warm palms running soothing lines up to his shoulders and back down again. “Soyong?”
“I’m not Kim Soyong!”
It came out louder than Jang Bonghwan had intended. The words rang in his ears, in the alley, bouncing between buildings with a harsh timbre. His heart was racing.
He stepped back, feeling the heavy absence of Cheoljong’s warmth and touch.
“I’m not her. Is the thing.” He tried to keep calm, but he was breathing hard and he wasn’t even doing anything. “I’m not Kim Soyong. I never was.”
He closed his eyes, hating himself. He was shaking like a leaf. He used to be a playboy, an absolute catch that anyone would’ve been lucky just to rub elbows with. Curse Cheoljong and his stupid, pretty face and his kind heart and his naive idealism. Why did one man have to be so viscerally identity shattering? God he needed therapy.
“So… Hypothetically speaking,” said Cheoljong carefully. “You’re asking me if my feelings toward you change? Knowing that you’re a man in a woman’s body. You’re someone else entirely.”
Jang Bonghwan nodded, eyes opening slowly. He just breathed, took in a deep breath and stared at their feet. He studied the woven basket below, filled with fresh ginseng and ginger and some pretty yellow silk that they wanted to make into clothes for the baby.
Cheoljong hadn’t tried to move away from him, so he considered that to be something.
He heard as Cheoljong took a breath of his own. “Well, let’s think about it this way. Hypothetically speaking, I was in no way attracted to Kim Soyong before she jumped into the lake. I was only attracted to her after the fact. Specifically, after getting to know the time traveling soul that entered her body. Hence, I’m not attracted to Kim Soyong, but the soul in her place. I held no previous attraction to the body itself, but I’m attracted to you now. Perhaps only because this body is now yours.”
Jang Bonghwan hated that Cheoljong could make his heart flutter like that. He used to be the one that would flirt and flatter the pants off his partners, but Cheoljong just had to be special. Asshole.
He finally looked up, eyes meeting Cheoljong’s steady ones. The sun was setting behind him, his dark silhouette stark against the red and orange hues of the sky. He almost blended in with the darkened buildings along the street, but his face was still distinguishable, expression earnest.
Jang Bonghwan swallowed.
“And what about when I’m dressed like this?” he asked, gesturing at himself and laying his hands flat on his own chest. “Does it change whether I’m dressed as a man or a woman?”
Cheoljong took a long moment to look him over, eyes slowly scanning Jang Bonghwan’s bare face, his clothes, the flat chest he’d used a lot of padding to achieve the illusion of. Jang Bonghwan felt himself flush, but he dared to let himself hope.
“No,” Cheoljong answered. “No, it doesn’t.”
It was a little easier to breathe now, though a twinge of anxiety and fear still remained. “So you’re okay? Being in love with a man?”
“My queen.” Cheoljong stepped forward, his words projected out with his whole chest. “I fell in love with your arrogance, your tenacity, your wit, and the way you talk back to me like I’m not the ruler of the country. I love that with you I am a man, not the king. And if you happen to be a man as well, that is of no consequence to me. I love the person you are, not the body you’re in.”
Jang Bonghwan’s heart fluttered in his chest, heat rushing up his neck. He scoffed, turning his face away.
“Shut up. You’re stupid. Stop talking to me.”
Cheoljong blinked. “All right.”
Jang Bonghwan huffed. He was still shaking a little, but now it was with relief. He couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face as he reached a hand up, adjusting the rim of his gat to hide behind. “You know, I wasn’t attracted to men before you. I used to be a lady killer.”
Cheoljong tilted his head. “Should I be honored or concerned?”
“Well I don’t do that anymore!” Jang Bonghwan balled his fists, stomped his foot. “I used to bed women left and right and was proud of it. Now look at me. Pregnant with the king of Joseon’s baby. Fucking insane. You ruined me.”
A hand hesitantly reached for him, Cheoljong’s eyes flitting to his stomach. “Is it… uncomfortable? To be pregnant? Is that why you were upset?”
“I…” Jang Bonghwan thought back. He often tried to decipher the weird feelings he had about being pregnant. It was all the weirder when he’d look down and see he was showing now. Another reminder that he didn’t have a male body.
“Well, yes, at first. A little. But I can live with it. I love you and I love our baby, so it’s fine. But after I give birth, we definitely can’t just have sex whenever we want. Unfortunately. But no way am I doing this again! We will make a schedule and you will follow it to the letter.”
He huffed, already daunted by the idea of making a sex calendar. “Damn, I wish we could invent condoms or birth control or something. I don’t think we even have the technology for that shit yet.”
Jang Bonghwan suddenly realized how much they’d have to abstain from sex once the baby was born, not even considering the time he needed to take care of the baby and for his body to recover from childbirth. He shuddered to think of it. He may be gay as hell now, but he was still a whore at heart. He was for sure going to take advantage of the full nine months where he didn’t have a period and Cheoljong would just have to be a good husband and deal with it.
And God, he really wasn’t looking forward to having a period again. That one time was the worst. It had easily become the most agonizing week of his whole life, and right now he was growing a human inside his uterus. He shuddered to think about giving birth, but period cramps were no joke and hormones were the devil. On God, he’d never make fun of women ever agai—
“Hypothetically speaking.” Cheoljong spoke, still staring at him. “If you’re a man that time traveled 200 years from the future, what was your name before?”
Jang Bonghwan felt something jump in his chest and settle in his throat. It took him a moment to register what had been asked of him. What it meant. “It’s… Jang Bonghwan.”
“…Bonghwan,” Cheoljang echoed, tasting the name with a whisper, and hearing that sent a thrill through Jang Bonghwan’s stomach. Cheoljong inched closer. “Bonghwan-ah, I would love you in any form, in any body. This, I promise you.”
Jang Bonghwan swallowed. He wanted to cry.
Cheoljong reached out, fingers gently curling in the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling him closer. Jang Bonghwan felt the warmth of his body slowly leech through their clothes.
This was too much. Emotions and open communication were still new to him and he could only stand being exposed to them for so long before he shut down. His parking meter was running out of minutes and the levels of sappiness coming from his husband were going to give him radiation poisoning. He couldn’t help himself as he opened his mouth.
“Even if I was a worm?”
The gears in Cheoljong‘s brain stopped turning, brows furrowing in utter confusion. It made Jang Bonghwan want to burst out laughing. “What?”
“It’s an important question. Especially with that bold claim of yours.” Jang Bonghwan cleared his throat, trying to at least feign composure. “Would you love me even if I was a worm? Torn from the body of Kim Soyong and doomed to squirm in the dirt and eat shit? Think carefully.”
Cheoljong scoffed, hands reaching for his waist and pulling him in by the hips. He didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely not.”
Jang Bonghwan beat both fists on Cheoljong’s chest, unable to stop the laughter that finally bubbled out of him. “You shallow bastard. I want a divorce.”
Cheoljong's hand reached up to take his gat off, letting it hang behind his neck. Jang Bonghwan’s followed.
“Your king prohibits it,” Cheoljong answered, pressing forward with a smile and a kiss.
Jang Bonghwan couldn’t say it. Maybe not now. But he totally would love Cheoljong if he were a worm.