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Mingi nearly screamed in fright when he felt a large hand suddenly coming to rest on his shoulder. He turned around, his long blond hair cascading down his back, his fists raised and his heart up in his throat as he readied himself for a fight, already blaming himself for leaving his sword in his quarters since he was off duty... but the lovely face that his wide eyes fell upon had him dropping his defensive stance at once, although his erratic heartbeat wasn’t so easy to appease.
“Yunho…” Mingi breathed out, his hoarse and low voice at complete odds with the shrill and most undignified yelp he’d barely been able to muffle upon the other man’s arrival.
“Such a warm welcome,” Yunho remarked, his lips curling up in a teasing smile, “I am honoured.”
His hand, which had slipped off Mingi’s shoulder when he’d spun, came down to rest in the curve of the man’s waist, slim but defined enough to give Yunho’s long fingers all the space they needed to comfortably settle on the small of his back. His touch was warm on Mingi’s body, through the white and flowy shirt he was wearing, and there was a hint of possessiveness in the squeeze of his fingers that made Mingi’s heart beat faster again, although for entirely different reasons.
“I… I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” came Mingi’s softly-spoken excuse, his eyes staring into Yunho’s to convey his sincerity, even though he already knew that the other man wasn’t hurt by his reaction to his sudden presence.
It was true, too: Mingi had come to their secret spot in the gardens much earlier than the time at which he and Yunho had agreed on meeting. Certain that he would have this corner of the garden wholly to himself for a while, since no one ever bothered to walk all the way up to the small clutter of willows standing away from the main path, he had allowed himself to drop his guard, and his thoughts to wander. He had been distracted, engrossed by the small bird building its nest in the branches above his head, and too lost in his contemplation to hear Yunho’s quiet footfalls on the grass.
He would have recognised them in an instant, had he been paying attention. He knew the rhythm of the man’s steps, determined yet light as he walked, quick and nimble in swordfights, elegant at balls, but slow and careful when he moved with Mingi in his arms. This time, however, he had not noticed Yunho making his way to him, certain that he had at least another half-hour before they could be reunited in the tranquillity of the gardens.
Mingi raised his hands, callused by years of handling swords and daggers, while delicate in their handling of the things and people he loved most. He cupped Yunho’s face between his fingers, his piercing eyes seeing beyond the beautiful features, softer than his own sharp angles, and he brushed a thumb underneath one tired eye, moving up to smooth the line of worry between his eyebrows. He looked up, glancing at the silver coronet that rested atop Yunho’s hair.
“How was your meeting with the king?” he asked, although based on the exhaustion in the other man’s demeanour, he feared he already knew the answer.
Yunho’s shoulders tensed at the question but he closed his eyes when Mingi’s hands caressed them in slow, circular motions, coaxing his muscles to relax.
“My father is slipping away more and more,” he muttered, “We disagreed… Again. We couldn’t reach an agreement, not even a compromise, even though the whole council stood behind me. We chose to adjourn the meeting so that he could rest…”
Mingi sighed at the words. Silently, he gathered Yunho’s hands in his own and brought them to his lips so that he could kiss the prince’s knuckles – a gesture of deference and loyalty and, in their case, of support and intimacy. Yunho’s father was growing old and in his dotage, his decisions were starting to make less and less sense, when they weren’t downright terrible for the people or put the kingdom at risk.
Yunho did as much damage control as he could, taking the brunt of his father’s anger when he opposed his decisions, but there was only so much the Crown Prince could do when the king refused to step down or even hear him out, convinced that his son was plotting against him to inherit the throne faster.
“I don’t know how much longer it will take before one of the councillors hires someone to make an attempt on his life,” Yunho added.
His voice was calm, almost detached, but the anguish in his eyes ripped Mingi’s heart apart.
“I can speak to the Captain of the Guards,” he said hurriedly, eager to bring peace to Yunho, willing to help in any way he could to alleviate the burden on the prince’s shoulders. “I can ask Hongjoong to put me in San’s unit, so I can protect your father too, if you want. I promise I won’t let any harm come to him, I…”
“No!” the prince exclaimed, interrupting Mingi so vehemently that he was startled into silence.
Yunho quickly reversed his grip on their hands so that he was the one squeezing Mingi’s fingers, so tight it was almost painful, although not as much as the raw fear the young guard could see in the prince’s gaze.
“No,” Yunho repeated, his voice softer now, “I know… I know he needs more protection than he already has but… I’ll have Hongjoong transfer Jongho to my father’s men. I trust them with my life, with my father’s, but you, Mingi… You, I need by my side. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You will never have to find out,” Mingi promised, and he stepped right into Yunho’s space, wrapping him in a tight but tender embrace that the prince desperately needed. “I’m here, my love. I’m right here.”
Yunho had always been taller than him, still the prince managed to make himself seem smaller, to curl onto himself and into Mingi’s arms. He didn’t cry, yet Mingi could feel the way his whole body trembled, shaking under the weight of the kingdom’s fate, the councillors’ schemes and his own worry for his father’s health.
“Come here,” he whispered in Yunho’s ear as he slowly bent his legs, trying to kneel on the ground without relinquishing his hold onto the prince so they could settle onto the grass of the gardens together. “Sit with me, come on.”
It took a little while, but Mingi eventually managed to manhandle Yunho into sitting on his lap, then he slowly reclined his back until he was lying down among the daisies and fallen willow leaves, taking the prince down with him.
“You’ll stain your shirt,” came Yunho’s mumbled murmur against his chest, and Mingi laughed.
“I really don’t care right now,” he answered.
He ran his fingers through Yunho’s soft hair, smiling at the little sound of pleasure that escaped the prince’s lips at the touch. He had closed his eyes, breathing deep into Mingi’s white shirt, and he wondered if his scent was a comfort to him, the same way he felt at peace when he buried his head into Yunho’s pillow on the rare mornings they could spend together in the prince’s bedroom… before Yunho had to attend meetings and he had to report to the Captain of the Guards.
If Hongjoong knew just how closely he watched over the prince’s nights, wrapped around him in his bed instead of standing guard at the door… but no one knew. Mingi and Yunho constantly made sure of that, meeting at the far end of the gardens or under the cover of the night, limiting their interactions to stolen glances when in broad daylight. Mingi was grateful enough that, when he was on duty during the day and not at night, his role as one of the prince’s guards allowed him to never advert his eyes from him, to never stand too far. He was glad that no one would blink at the obvious admiration in his gaze as his eyes followed Yunho across the throne room and the corridors of the castle.
Mingi gently removed the coronet from Yunho’s head, so that the prince could rest against him more comfortably. He set it down on the grass, away from them, and he smiled when he noticed the minute shift in Yunho’s posture, the way his back relaxed and his body sagged a bit more against his own, as if taking off the coronet had also taken the heavy weight of his responsibilities off his shoulders.
In this very moment, lying down on the ground with the man he loved in his arms, Mingi thought they could almost pass for two regular young men, lovers who needn’t concern themselves with the world’s expectations. Sometimes, he wondered what such a life would be like.
When Yunho stifled a yawn, sleepless nights and restless days spent worrying about the kingdom catching up to him, Mingi wrapped his arms a bit tighter around the prince.
“Rest,” he whispered in his ear when Yunho tried to move away from him, certainly unwilling to fall asleep on his chest – no matter how comfortable a pillow – in the middle of the gardens and the afternoon.
“I can’t,” Yunho answered, his tone filled with regret.
He didn’t put up much of a fight however, and soon, he lay back down, pressing his lips to the hollow at the base of Mingi’s throat, between his clavicles, where the wide collar of his shirt fell open and revealed his smooth skin. He closed his eyes, trying to resist the tempting offer of Mingi’s warmth splayed beneath him.
“I have…” he started, before he had to clear his throat, “I have treaties to sign, meetings to arrange, and…”
“Ten minutes,” Mingi interrupted him before he could list everything he had to do, from his own responsibilities to the added duties of his sick father. “You take ten minutes for yourself, to close your eyes and do nothing but breathe, and then I’ll escort you back to the meeting halls myself.”
“Promise?” Yunho whispered, perking up at the prospect of having Mingi’s company for a little while longer. “Even though you are not on duty today?”
“Promise,” Mingi repeated after him, muscles clenching as he strained his neck so he could have his turn at kissing Yunho, which he did, softly, earning a grin for his trouble, then he collapsed in the grass again, breathless. “Rest now. I’ll watch over you.”
“You always do,” Yunho whispered, his voice turning into a soft, sleepy sound already, and he burrowed deeper into Mingi’s embrace. “Thank you. I love you.”
Mingi’s gentle I love you too fell flat as Yunho gave in to sleep impossibly fast, missing the other man’s answer in the process, but Mingi didn’t mind: it would only give him an excuse to pepper the prince’s beautiful face with kisses interspersed with soft I love you once he woke up… in ten minutes, he’d said.
He’d make it twenty: Yunho needed the rest. Twenty minutes, Mingi thought as he looked up at the trees and their branches swaying in the wind, dappling sunlight onto Yunho and him, no more.
(The plan failed spectacularly as Mingi fell asleep too, lulled into slumber by the sweet chirping of the birds above his head. Yunho was the one to wake him, almost one full hour later, with gentle caresses through his long hair and a far too endeared smile dancing on his lips, one that Mingi was quick to erase with his own mouth.)