Archive of Our Own

Yoon-ho doesn't believe the rumors at first.

A giant ant, twice the size of a cottage, spotted lurking around the border villages? It seems more than a little far fetched. He's used to hearing of monsters like jackals and orcs— has killed too many to count, in fact. But an ant? Ants are tiny and generally harmless. He could squash a whole colony of them beneath his armored boots.

So, the first time the report reaches his desk, he puts it away and doesn't think much of it. Probably a hallucination. No one was hurt, and the villager in question was quite shaken. According to the report, they weren't sure what they'd seen either. Yoon-ho chalks it up to one too many late nights at a tavern and moves on with his day.

Over the next few weeks, he receives similar reports a few more times. From multiple villages that border the forest come whisperings of the ant. There's nothing consistent about the rumors at all— sometimes it's a white ant, sometimes it's red. It's a little bigger than a cottage, it's as large as a whole mountain. But it's always the ant. Yoon-ho doesn't know what to make of it. Still, he shelves the reports and moves on. Just to be certain, he sends a small group of knights to investigate, but there's bigger things to worry about— like the new clan of orcs popping up in the south and terrorizing one of the port cities. He travels there himself with an entourage of knights and takes care of the problem within a week.

That's what his job is, after all— to protect the people, to dispose of the beasts that crawl from the shadows of the wild. The ant rumors are just that— rumors. His knights found nothing at the places where it was supposedly spotted. He'll tackle the actual monsters and leave the maybe-ant, possible-hallucination to those frivolous mages in the Mage Guild. He and his knights have better things to do.

It's when word of the the first death reaches the capitol that it becomes impossible to ignore. Son Ki-hoon hands him the report, unusually sober. The victim was found partway into the forest, as if they had been dragged there. A chunk had been taken out of the body, the marks reminiscent of pincers. Yoon-ho leaves it on his desk and extinguishes his lamp before reaching for his greatsword.

"Get the horses ready," he says to Ki-hoon, who falls into step next to him. "We're moving out."

It's one ant, presumably. They'll get rid of it, confirm there are no others in the area, and give the people some peace of mind to hold a proper funeral. If Yoon-ho can get in a clean kill, he may even be able to separate some body parts to bring back for examination. Just another day on the job.

Instead, they return empty handed.

Days of combing the forest had turned up nothing. To make matters worse, the journey back had occurred through heavy rain and mud that made the ground slick. Yoon-ho's knights are exhausted, hungry. He's not much better himself.

It'd be impossible to get any rest, however, when he's this frustrated. He's no stranger to failure, but even the most unsuccessful hunts turn up at least some sort of clue. They'd found nothing, not even a scent or a mark in the ground. It's like the ant, or whatever it is, had just vanished.

"You'd think that something white and taller than the trees would be easier to find," one of his knights had said. Evidently not. Yoon-ho spent the miserable ride home stewing in frustration, going over the days in his head. All that effort, all those hours spent combing every inch of forest, for nothing. Now, back at the barracks, the sight of the initial reports scattered on his desk only make him angrier.

Yoon-ho orders his knights to get some rest, then storms off to the training grounds. If he wants to get any sleep tonight he needs to let off some steam. Unbuckling his armor, he grabs a training sword and begins attacking a dummy. Swing, thunk, swing, thunk. Sweat dots his forehead. He ignores it and keeps attacking.

Maybe it was a rumor after all. A hallucination. Maybe that poor person was murdered or attacked by wolves, and Yoon-ho had just been sent on a wild goose chase— ant chase— whatever. Nearly a whole week wasted, and nothing to show for it. He's not sure how he's going to present this case to the castle. Best case scenario, the court will laugh at him and tell him to go home.

Swing, thunk. Swing, thunk.

"My, my. What did the dummy do to offend you?"

Yoon-ho straightens and wipes the sweat off his brow. He scowls. "Go away."

Red flashes in the corner of his vision. He refuses to turn his head— refuses to meet the gaze of the one he knows will be standing there. "I'm busy right now. You can go bother someone else."

A chuckle. "Are you really busy? It looks to me as if you're mauling that poor dummy. Don't get me wrong, though— it's very impressive. I suppose there's a reason why they all call you the White Tiger."

Unable to bear it any longer, Yoon-ho turns. It frustrates him, how he never wins this game. He tells himself every time that he won't do it, he won't look. In the end, he always does. He can't help it.

Archmagus Choi Jong-in flashes him a dazzling smile from where he's leaning against another dummy. He's dressed as annoyingly fancy as always: that glaringly red cape, that luxurious fur collar, those ridiculous boots that lace all the way up to his knees. His rings sparkle gold in the late afternoon light. His hair almost seems to sparkle, too; it shifts constantly between pink and ruby and pale, rosy gold.

It's maybe the second or third time Yoon-ho's seen his hair exposed; usually, he has on that ridiculously large hat that matches his cape. Yoon-ho catches himself staring and quickly tears his gaze away. He scowls at Jong-in. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," Jong-in says pleasantly. "I was just checking in. How was the hunt? It was an ant this time, right?"

"How do you know about that?" Yoon-ho demands, even though he's not really surprised. The mages always seem to know what the knights are up to— by contrast, Yoon-ho couldn't tell half the things that happen within the Mage Guild. It annoys him more than it should.

"One of your captains is friends with one of my mages," Jong-in says. "Word spreads."

… Right. He'd forgotten about that. Ki-hoon seems to be one of the few knights who actively enjoys being around the mages and is friends with quite a few of them. He seems to have a particular admiration for Jong-in, of all people.

Yoon-ho doesn't get it, honestly. He's not blind to the fact that Jong-in is objectively beautiful, nor is he too prideful to admit that Jong-in is an incredible mage, one who casts fire magic with ease and can command the attention of hundreds with a mere snap. His well of mana is supposedly endless; his charming smiles actually are. He's the people's favorite for a reason and the leader of the guild for a reason.

It's just— he's so damn annoying. He and his mages operate mostly outside of the royal family's governance, so more often than not, Yoon-ho and his knights will answer a distress call, only to find the mages there, already cleaning up. And with the way Jong-in always smirks and tells him better luck next time, Yoon-ho knows he's doing it on purpose. It's like he knows exactly how to piss Yoon-ho off and takes pride in doing it all the time, which is exactly why Yoon-ho needs him to leave, right now. He's trying to unwind, not get even more frustrated. Besides, it's always difficult to focus around Jong-in.

"The hunt went fine," Yoon-ho says. Maybe if he answers his questions, Jong-in will leave. "There was no ant. I'm starting to doubt there ever was."

"Not a very successful hunt, then," Jong-in muses. He pushes off of the dummy and takes one, two steps forward, his cape swishing. His eyes seem to shine orange in the light. "A shame. Perhaps if you'd had one of us with you, it would have gone differently."

Yoon-ho scowls. "Don't oversell yourself. It was probably just a rumor anyways. I don't think your fancy little abilities can help with that."

"Perhaps it is a rumor, sure." Jong-in shrugs elegantly. His lips curl into that familiar, infuriating smirk; Yoon-ho has spent years trying to figure out how to wipe it right off. "All I'm suggesting is perhaps a little magic could help you locate it. If it is real. I've heard it's supposed to be quite terrifying."

"Sure," Yoon-ho mutters. He turns back to his training dummy, unable to stand gazing at Jong-in's smirk much longer. Why is it so damn hot today? Using his shirt to wipe some more sweat off his brow, he continues, "If that's all, you can leave. I'm busy."

"Need to let off some steam?" Jong-in's footsteps draw closer, instead of shrinking away. Yoon-ho almost growls. "Let me help."

"You're not helping," Yoon-ho snaps. He glares at Jong-in, who merely smiles, smug and fox-like. There's a faint flush on his cheeks that wasn't there before. Strange— though it is an annoyingly hot day. He has no damn clue how Jong-in is still wearing that cape.

"I mean it, Yoon-ho. Let's spar." From his thumb, Jong-in removes his ring and flips it like a coin. It shimmers into a golden spear, dotted with red gems. Jong-in catches it easily and points it at Yoon-ho, the tip a hair's breadth away from touching Yoon-ho's chest. "Unless you're scared of losing to me?"

Oh, that's a challenge. Yoon-ho has never been one to back down from those— especially if they're from Jong-in, of all people. "In your dreams," he growls.

Jong-in's lips curl.

They meet in the middle of the training space. Yoon-ho has his own greatsword again, and he grips it tightly, readying himself. He's never sparred with Jong-in before, but he's fought spear users. They tend to be quick and light on their feet, but heavy blows will slow them down. Perfect for Yoon-ho's own weapon and fighting style. Jong-in won't win. It'll be a clean, easy victory, and then Yoon-ho can finally go eat and return to his room to rest.

(He's also fought with Jong-in before, on missions where the knights and mages agreed to work together for safety. He's spent more time than he's willing to admit watching Jong-in fight, the elegant way he moves— to learn, of course. He knows what kind of mage Jong-in is, so it's likely his melee fighting style will at least be a little similar.)

Jong-in unclasps his cape and drapes it over a dummy, leaving him in nothing but a loose-fitted white shirt. He undoes the top button. Unbidden, Yoon-ho's gaze is drawn to the flash of his collarbones as he moves closer. He's never seen Jong-in without the cape. It occurs to him, suddenly, why Jong-in must wear it all the time— to give himself a bigger, more intimidating silhoutte. Without the cape, he's suprisingly slender.

It's the kind of build that some of the junior knights would scoff at. Yoon-ho knows better. Jong-in is notoriously sly and manipulative, like a fox given human form, and Yoon-ho wouldn't put it past him to play dirty.

"No magic," he warns as Jong-in gets into position.

Jong-in smiles. "Of course. I wouldn't want to push you too hard. You've had a long week."

Yoon-ho glares at him, annoyance simmering in his veins. "Do you ever shut up?"

Quick as lightning, Jong-in darts forward, the point of his polearm jabbing at Yoon-ho's chest. Yoon-ho barely manages to dodge in time. He throws himself to the side at the same time that he brings up his greatsword, deflecting Jong-in's attack. Their weapons meet with a reverberating clang of metal on metal.

It's fairly easy for Yoon-ho to use his strength and push up and back, knocking Jong-in off-balance. He quickly goes on the offensive, forcing Jong-in into defense as he attacks again and again, trying to create an opening for himself. Jong-in's not as strong as him, but he's quick. He darts left, right, light on his feet, parrying Yoon-ho's blows instead of taking the hits directly.

Yoon-ho grins, delighted. It's been a long time since he's had such a fun opponent. Many of his knights fight the same way he does, having been trained under him, but Jong-in— Jong-in has a completely different style. It's unexpected; it keeps Yoon-ho on his toes as they weave around each other, weapons clashing. Jong-in's reach is better, but Yoon-ho's blows are heavier. It's an even match without consideration to their individual skills.

Of course, though, Jong-in's a mage, not used to melee combat. Yoon-ho doesn't have to wear him out by force— if he's patient, Jong-in will make a mistake. He just has to bide his time until then.

Just to speed it up, Yoon-ho decides to taunt him. Distract him, the same way Jong-in's always distracting him with the shine of his rings and his smug smiles. "Is that all you got? I thought the Mage Guild was supposed to be all-powerful. And their leader can't even win a simple spar."

"Am I not living up to expectations?" Jong-in says. He sounds slightly breathless, Yoon-ho notes with satisfaction. "My deepest apologies. Perhaps if I were using my magic, you'd be singing a different tune. But of course, I want to give you a fair chance."

"I'd beat you regardless."

"Is that so? Seems like you can't even beat me right now." Jong-in darts left, swinging his spear, and— there. Yoon-ho delivers a swift kick to the side of his calf and Jong-in collapses with a startled yelp. He recovers quickly, though, and rolls to the side before Yoon-ho can try and pin him down.

His spear rolls away in the dirt. Jong-in pushes himself to his feet with one hand and makes a beckoning motion with the other; the spear flies right back into his hand.

"That's magic," Yoon-ho accuses.

"So sorry," says Jong-in, not sounding sorry at all.

Asshole, Yoon-ho thinks, but he's having too much fun to really be upset. He charges at Jong-in again and they continue exchanging blows, up and down the training arena.

Yoon-ho sees the moment when Jong-in begins to tire, when his movements grow just a bit clumsier. It's impressive that he's held up for this long, to be honest. Yoon-ho almost wants to praise him. Instead he times his blows just right and waits for the perfect opening to slam the flat edge of his sword against Jong-in's torso, using just enough force to knock him down without injuring him. Jong-in falls, and Yoon-ho pins him down with a boot on his chest before he can try and squirm away.

"I win," Yoon-ho declares, sinking his sword into the dirt next to Jong-in's head.

Jong-in doesn't say anything for a moment, too busy catching his breath. His hair spills across the ground in silky strands of pink— or is it red? Yoon-ho can't quite tell. It always seems to be changing colors, shifting subtly between hues of rose. He stares for a moment too long.

"That you do," Jong-in says, at last. He doesn't sound particularly upset at having lost. That familiar smirk stretches slowly across his pretty mouth as he gazes up at Yoon-ho through his long lashes. "You're quite the impressive fighter, Yoon-ho. Your nickname suits you."

"Of course I am," Yoon-ho says, his cheeks hot. Really, why is it so stuffy outside today? "It's my job. And stop talking about my nickname."

"You don't like it?" Jong-in asks, something teasing woven into his tone.

Yoon-ho scowls. For a while now his knights have taken a liking to comparing him to a tiger— because he's such a ferocious fighter, they'd explained. It's not that he minds the nickname, but it is a little embarrassing when they keep bringing it up. Now even the mages know about it, apparently.

"It's fine," he snaps. "I just don't like you."

Jong-in laughs, soft and breathy. He's panting a little, still. There's a smudge of dirt on his nose, and Yoon-ho feels the inexplicable urge to wipe it off with his thumb.

… What?

He needs sleep if he's thinking thoughts like that. Yoon-ho takes his boot off of Jong-in's chest and lowers a hand to help him up. He tries not to focus on the cold press of Jong-in's rings, the way his fingers fit perfectly between Yoon-ho's own. Seriously, he needs to get some sleep.

"I suppose I should get going," says Jong-in as he crosses the arena and starts to refasten his cape. "Are you feeling better now?"

Yoon-ho yanks his greatsword from the dirt. "Yes," he admits, reluctantly. "You're not a bad fighter yourself."

"A compliment from the royal knight himself? I'm flattered," Jong-in says, his lashes lowered, the corners of his lips pulled into a coy smile. Yoon-ho turns his gaze away. Jong-in is a dangerous man to be looking at— something about him has a way of distracting attention, of making Yoon-ho's thoughts stutter and his chest go tight.

"Sure," he mutters. "Don't you have things to be doing?"

Jong-in's laugh is low and soft. "So eager to be rid of me. Alright, I'll go. Have a good night, Yoon-ho."

Yoon-ho doesn't watch him leave. He knows if he does, that ever-growing, irrational part of him will want to ask Jong-in to stay, to go for one more spar. And it will win, someday.

Within the next two days, three more dead bodies crop up, all with the same wounds as the first. Once again, Yoon-ho gathers his knights and heads straight to the scene. Once again, they find nothing. Days of searching yield not a single clue. By now, the ant is seeming less and less like a hallucination and more like a concerningly intelligent beast. Some of the villagers Yoon-ho talks to report seeing it in the woods, watching with beady eyes.

No one has ever seen it kill. The dead bodies are simply there one morning, dragged partially into the forest, just like the first. It's the ant, it has to be. If not, then it's something— something out there that's killing people without a trace. So where the hell is it?

Yoon-ho returns to the capitol even more frustrated than last time. He beats up three training dummies before exhaustion wins over and he returns inside. The reports are all laid out on his desk; he grips the sanded edge of the wood as he glares down at the parchment.

He knows what his next step should be. It's just that he damn well does not want to take it.

The Mage Guild is powerful. Their ranks consist of every kind of mage imagineable, from the ones who can light up the night sky with a snap of the fingers to the ones who can heal injuries with little more than a murmur. Yoon-ho's certain that there must be someone in that guild who knows tracking magic, or has invented a device that can help with tracking. All it would take is asking for their cooperation.

Which— Yoon-ho has no doubt that they would give it easily. For all the Mage Guild likes to be secretive and shady, for all they can— and often do— operate in the shadows, they have the same goal as the knights in the end. Protect the people, defend against the magic beasts that threaten the kingdom. Beyond the borders, deep in the forests, is the realm of monsters. Every day the line threatens to creep inwards; every day, the knights and the mages beat it back. It's a burden both groups bear. Yoon-ho knows the mages would not turn him down if it were a matter of safety.

The problem is not potential disagreement. The problem is that it would require calling a meeting, which would require him talking to the kingdom's most obnoxious, infuriating man.

But there is no other choice; they have to find this ant before any more people are killed. The meeting has to be called. Which, to be fair, doesn't mean that Yoon-ho has to be happy about it.

He sends the message in the morning and receives a reply by afternoon. The mages are punctual, if nothing else. And so, the very next morning, Yoon-ho gathers two of his captains, Son Ki-hoon and Cha Hae-in, and heads for the guild.

They convene in the library on the very first floor, a room even larger than the training arena. The walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, packed tight with books. Candles have been suspended in the air. A circular table has been set up in the very center of the room, as always. Jong-in is already seated, as always, his hands crossed beneath his chin and his expression settled into a perfectly charming smile.

Yoon-ho takes his regular seat across him. Next to Jong-in is a blonde woman he remembers as Gina, another powerful mage. On his other side is Byung-gu, a healer Yoon-ho's known since they were both children. Not even he is safe from the guild's nonsense, because Yoon-ho's noticed that he's progressively become more and more of a little shit over the years.

Still, Byung-gu's one of his oldest friends, so Yoon-ho offers him a smile. Byung-gu grins cheerily back.

"Welcome, welcome," says Jong-in. The brim on his hat casts a slight shadow over his eyes. Yoon-ho's long suspected he wears that damn thing purely for theatrics, because not a single other mage has one nearly as ridiculous. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"It's an honor, Archmagus," Ki-hoon gushes immediately. It's like there are stars in his eyes. Yoon-ho can't blame him, not really— Jong-in does have a way of capturing attention. It's something about his eyes, maybe, and the way they shimmer with the slightest hint of gold. Sometimes Yoon-ho can't quite tear his gaze away either.

He tries not to react as those eyes fall on him, peering at him from beneath long, long lashes. "I read your letter. I understand the situation is urgent, so I won't dawdle. I just have one question for Captain Cha." Jong-in's gaze falls on her. "If I'm remembering correctly, you were given a choice between mage and knight when you were first considering between the two groups. Either would have accepted you because you demonstrated excellent swordsmanship, but you were also a natural tracker."

"That's correct," says Hae-in. "It didn't help. I was not able to detect any traces of the beast. Perhaps I wasn't searching for the right thing, but… I am positive I could detect nothing."

"Interesting," Jong-in murmurs. He looks contemplative. "I remember I tested you myself. You scored very well; you could easily have been one of our top trackers had you joined us. The fact that even you could not detect it leads me to believe that there's something else going on here."

"You're saying that you can't help?" Yoon-ho demands.

Jong-in blinks at him. "Oh, no. Rest assured that's not what I'm saying at all. I just think that sending out our best trackers would probably not turn up much better results if even Captain Cha had no luck."

"What are you suggesting, then?" asks Gina, crossing her arms. "Get to the point."

"Gina," Ki-hoon hisses, looking mortified. Gina just shrugs.

"A little patience, please," Jong-in says, pouting a little. Gina side-eyes him, completely unaffected. Ki-hoon, meanwhile, looks ready to melt into a puddle.

Yoon-ho tugs at the collar of his shirt. He'd chosen to go without armor today, which has turned out to be a smart idea. It's rather hot in this room.

"We could try," says Byung-gu. "Perhaps one of our trackers with more training would be able to find something."

"Of course there's always a chance, and we can try," Jong-in agrees. "But I do believe we're missing part of the puzzle, and we won't truly be able to resolve this issue until we find that missing piece."

"Could it be that it's smarter than most of the beasts we typically see?" suggests Hae-in. "Perhaps it's concealing itself in some way. In which case we'd have to find a way to lure it out."

"Maybe it's because there's so many of us," Ki-hoon says thoughtfully. "Maybe it knew it couldn't fight off all of us, so it chose to stay hidden."

"I believe you're correct, Captain Son," says Jong-in.

Ki-hoon bolts upright in his chair, his cheeks flushed. "Y-you know my name?"

Jong-in smiles genially. "Of course. I've heard all about your talents."

Ki-hoon opens his mouth, then closes it. He nods frantically, looking as if someone had just doubled his pay and gifted him an entire estate. Gina side-eyes him, too.

Jong-in laces his fingers and rests them flat on the table. "Here's my suggestion. We work together to bring a much smaller force into its territory. Hopefully, with less of us there, we'll be able to lure it out. Use ourselves as bait, so to speak. Then, once it emerges, we take care of it."

"How big of a group, though?" asks Gina.

"And is that not extremely dangerous?" adds Hae-in. "We know nothing about this creature. There has to at least be a way for the group to retreat and call backup if necessary."

"Signal flares," Jong-in says. He holds up a finger. "Here's a new suggestion, actually. I can go in alone. It seems like this creature is fond of targetting solo travelers, so it makes the most sense for one person to enter first. I'm the Archmagus, and I have a way of signalling for backup quickly."

"That's ridiculous," Yoon-ho snaps, at the same time that Byung-gu says, "No way."

… Hold on. Yoon-ho knows why he doesn't want Jong-in to go in alone. Why doesn't Byung-gu want Jong-in to go in alone?

"Respectfully, sir, that makes no sense," Byung-gu says, furrowing his brows. "I know stealth magic, and I can heal myself. Wouldn't it make more sense for me to go in first?"

"Not necessarily," Jong-in says simply. "You can't signal as easily as me, and we don't know if stealth would help you. If it comes down to a life-or-death scenario, I am the one who stands the greatest chance of surviving."

"That's still stupid," Yoon-ho says, scowling at Jong-in. "Like you said, we know nothing about this creature. It could be resistant to magic for all we know. What are you going to do then?"

"Have you forgotten our spar so quickly, Yoon-ho?" Jong-in asks, tilting his head, a ghost of that pout from before flickering over his face. Yoon-ho's cheeks heat. "You know I can fight without my magic."

Yoon-ho shakes his head. Get it together, damn it. "Not as well as me," he counters. "I'm going with you."

"Why?" asks Jong-in.

That makes Yoon-ho pauses, his mouth parted around words he hasn't formed yet. Why, indeed?

The easy answer: It makes the most sense. Two people isn't much different than one, so Yoon-ho tagging along likely won't ruin the chances of luring the monster out. Plus, there's always the chance that it has some sort of magic resistance— Yoon-ho being there would be a buffer. They would cover each other's weaknesses, him and Jong-in: might and magic, both raw strength and raw firepower.

The answer that he doesn't want to give, the one that sits heavy in his gut, the one he doesn't know what to do with: He cannot bear the thought of Jong-in dying in those woods without anyone to save him. Every muscle in his body rebels at the idea of a future with no Jong-in, a future where someone else sits in the chair across from Yoon-ho, someone with an unfamiliar hat and no rings and no sly, infuriating smirk.

(And he doesn't know why it matters so much. They're not friends. If anyone asked, he'd tell them that he hates Choi Jong-in, that he finds him to be the most frustrating, annoying man to ever live. It shouldn't matter who the Archmagus is. Except it does, except he doesn't want it to be anyone else, and he just— he doesn't know why.)

In the end, Yoon-ho goes with the easy answer. The other one is too heavy, too clumsy. He doesn't know how to verbalize it, doesn't know how to explain it other than that tightness in his chest when he looks at Jong-in. In the end, he says, "It's the smartest option. We cover each other's backs. We find the monster, and if it's too much to handle, we retreat and call backup."

"I don't like it," says Gina. "You're both leaders. It'll be hell if anything happens."

"Archmagi have died on the job before," says Jong-in, grimly. "So have knights. I agree with Yoon-ho— this makes the most sense."

No one complains. Byung-gu meets Yoon-ho's eyes across the table; he looks concerned, almost frightened. Yoon-ho is remembered of the days in their youth, when Byung-gu had told him that he was too reckless, too prone to charging right into a battle with no consideration for his own safety.

He'd like to think he's grown out of that a bit, now. Still, just to reassure Byung-gu, Yoon-ho mouths, I'll be fine.

Byung-gu doesn't look convinced, but he says nothing.

"Right," says Yoon-ho, and he stands. "There's no time to lose. Is a day enough for you to get ready?" This he directs at Jong-in.

Jong-in tilts his head and smiles at him. "Don't be so worried, Yoon-ho, you'll get wrinkles on that handsome face. We'll meet you tomorrow at dawn."

Handsome face— what? "What the hell," Yoon-ho says, out loud, his cheeks blazing. "What did you just call me?"

Gina shakes her head. Byung-gu ducks his away, but Yoon-ho swears he sees a ghost of a smile there.

Jong-in's eyes glow sunfire gold. The corners of his mouth curl; unbidden, Yoon-ho's thoughts cut to the curve of his bottom lip. If he pressed his thumb to it, would it be soft? If he—

Yoon-ho shakes his head, his heart leaping. What is— what the hell is he thinking? He must not have gotten enough sleep last night.

"Oh, nothing," says Jong-in. He stands too, extending an arm out to the door. "Shall I walk you out?"

"We're fine," Yoon-ho snaps. He needs to get out of here before he starts thinking more things that he shouldn't— before the glow of Jong-in's eyes and the curl of his pretty mouth starts begging Yoon-ho's attention again.

Jong-in's laughter echoes softly around the library as Yoon-ho turns to leave.

At dawn, they meet before the stables. Yoon-ho mounts his horse and notices Jong-in sliding onto another horse, right behind Gina. It makes him raise an eyebrow. He knows Jong-in has his own horse; maybe it's injured. Not that it matters.

He watches as Jong-in settles a hand on Gina's shoulder. In light of early morning, his hair seems to glow a soft orange, fringed with gold and pink. One of these days Yoon-ho will figure out what color it actually is. Or maybe Jong-in, the dramatic bastard that he is, cast some sort of spell on his own hair to make it like that. Yoon-ho wouldn't put it past him.

Then Jong-in settles his hat more firmly on his head, casting shadow over most of his hair. Yoon-ho quickly tears his gaze away. God, he needs to get a grip. It doesn't matter what damn color Jong-in's hair is; what he really should be thinking about is how they're going to kill this ant.

The ride is quieter than most, given how many less people there are, but it's lively nonetheless. Byung-gu, their dedicated healer for this mission, rides alongside Eun-seok, both of them talking and laughing far too loudly this early in the morning. Jong-in and Miss Gina are debating the best style of capelet to wear. Yoon-ho rides in silence, trying to tune out all the conversation to focus on coming up with a plan.

There really isn't much to be planned, though. They have next to no information, not even an accurate reading on how big this monster might be. What if it's not an ant? Or what if there's multiple of them, and Yoon-ho's sending himself and Jong-in into a death trap?

He shakes his head and grips the reins more tightly. No use ruminating on the unknown. Every mission is a potential death trap; when he thinks of it that way, this one isn't much different. They'll tread carefully. He's worked with mages before— granted, none of them were Jong-in, but surely the experience will help. And Jong-in knows how to hold his own, too. They'll make a solid pair.

Still, he can't quite quell the unease that bubbles in his stomach. They break for a quick lunch, and by early afternoon they've reached the right location. Yoon-ho dismounts, hands the reins over to Ki-hoon, and instinctively holds out his hand to Jong-in.

Before he realizes his mistake and can snatch it back, Jong-in takes his hand. He's smiling, the bastard— more of a smirk, really, the one that always seems to make Yoon-ho's mouth dry and his thoughts falter. "Oh? How chivalrous," he murmurs.

Yoon-ho scowls. "Shut the hell up. I'm just making sure you don't break your neck."

"Do you really think so lowly of me?" says Jong-in as he slides off the horse's back and lands elegantly on his feet. He's still gripping Yoon-ho's hand. Yoon-ho should pull away, he really should; instead he stands there, useless, as Jong-in leans in. He's short enough that Yoon-ho has to look down slightly to meet his gaze, and close enough that Yoon-ho can count every single one of his eyelashes— can see the small scar on the bridge of his nose, right beneath where his glasses sit. His eyes dance between red and fiery orange; some stands of hair have escaped his bangs and are brushing up against his eyelids.

Yoon-ho wants to tuck them neatly away— to press his hand against Jong-in's forehead and sweep his bangs aside, exposing more of his mesmerizing eyes.

In a whisper, low enough that only Yoon-ho can hear, Jong-in says, "But I'm flattered, really. What an honor to be assisted by a knight as handsome as you."

He takes it all back. He's going to kill this man.

Dropping Jong-in's hand, Yoon-ho takes a step back. "You're ridiculous," he snaps.

Jong-in laughs. "Am I?"

"Yes."

"Mm, I don't hear you complaining."

"Well, I'm complaining now." It sounds weak even to Yoon-ho's ears. He can hear Byung-gu cackling, drowned out only by Jong-in's own chuckles. He adjusts his glasses, flashes Yoon-ho a devastatingly smooth wink, and starts to rummage around in the horse's saddlebag.

Yoon-ho hates him, he swears he does. Jong-in is nothing but infuriating and annoying and ridiculous and—

Jong-in turns to gaze at the forest. The light illuminates his profile, highlighting his perfect lashes in gold. Yoon-ho feels his breath catch.

(It goes like this: Yoon-ho doesn't like Jong-in, he swears. The man is tolerable at best. But sometimes— all the time, really—

He's so devastatingly beautiful that it hurts to look at him. And Yoon-ho doesn't know what to do with the way Jong-in's eyes make his thoughts falter, the way he keeps trying to figure out what color his hair is when he could be thinking about literally anything else. He doesn't know what to do with the breathlessness that strikes him when Jong-in laughs or makes a witty joke or flashes one of his rare smiles that aren't for the public, the ones that are softer around the corners and reveal his dimples.

It's that simple, really. Yoon-ho swears he doesn't like Jong-in, swears that the man is horrible and annoying and everything else. But swearing is not the same as meaning. He can promise his dislike all he wants, and still— still his heart will leap whenever Jong-in's eyes meet his.)

"Well," says Jong-in, and he turns back to Yoon-ho. He's no longer smiling; seriousness has settled over his face. It's the grim determination of a warrior about to (almost) singlehandedly fight a monster no one has seen. "Shall we go?"

Yoon-ho hefts his greatsword. He takes a deep breath, trying to settle himself, trying to focus. He'll need all of it for this mission.

"Right," he says. "Let's go."

The forest is deathly quiet.

That's the first sign that something is wrong, and Yoon-ho can't believe he hadn't noticed it before. Maybe his knights were talking too much; maybe the crunch of horse hooves through branches had concealed the silence. Now, walking through the underbrush, he feels his skin prickling with anxiety. It's too quiet.

They'd laid out some semblance of a plan during the ride, when the idle chatter had reached a lull. Hunting during the hours of twilight would be risky, but also most likely to yield results. Most beasts are nocturnal; odds are that this one is too. Yoon-ho's not a fan of the idea of having to fight when it's dark out, so he'd pushed for a retreat by the time night fell if they hadn't found it yet. Jong-in had agreed.

It means they have a couple of hours to try and track this ant down before pulling out for the night and trying again tomorrow. Yoon-ho keeps his hand on the hilt of his greatsword as he walks, ready to unsheathe it at a breath's notice. Jong-in's fidgeting with the collar of his fancy cape. He'd be the picture of calm if not for the nervous way his fingers twist through the fur.

Yoon-ho can't blame him. Being in this forest puts him on edge, especially this close to dark. He's not afraid of monsters, not anymore, but…

"Captain Cha was right," Jong-in says after a while. "There really isn't a single trace of any beasts."

"I didn't know you could track," Yoon-ho says.

Jong-in glances at him. "It's not my strongest suit, but—"

"The great Archmagus, admitting he has a weakness? Color me surprised."

"Well, I'm a fire mage primarily," Jong-in replies, sounding more amused than offended. "Naturally I'm not the best at tracking. What about you, Sir Tiger?"

"Don't call me that," Yoon-ho grumbles over Jong-in's laugh. "How do you expect me to track?"

"Don't cats have a good sense of smell? Good eyesight?"

Yoon-ho glares at him. He almost forgot how good Jong-in is at making him feel enraged. "I'm not a cat, you asshole."

"You're fluffy like one," Jong-in muses, delicately hiding his mouth with his hand. Yoon-ho is so, so certain he's smirking behind his palm. It makes him want to grab his wrist and yank his hand away and then—

And then… what?

(He ignores the part of his brain that whispers, kiss him. The part that itches to take Jong-in by the wrist, pull his hand aside, and kiss him until he can't breathe. That part of him isn't sane, anyways, if it's yearning to kiss his rival and number one annoyance.)

"Whatever," Yoon-ho mutters. "Just stay focused."

"I am focused," says Jong-in cheerily. But he stops talking, and Yoon-ho focuses back on the forest around them, trying to ignore the urge to say something, to provoke Jong-in just to hear his voice. It's too quiet without him.

Hours of careful exploration later and still, nothing shows up. They stop in a clearing, and Jong-in leans against a tree, his arms crossed. It's late afternoon now; the sun, from what Yoon-ho can see of it through occasional gaps in the dense leaf cover, has begun to dip lower in the sky. They'll only have a bit longer before twilight arrives, and only a little longer after that before heading back.

"Do you think it has a den? Or some sort of lair?" Jong-in asks, gazing up at the branches. "It's supposedly rather large. Perhaps we've missed it."

"For something so large, it's sure been hell to even get a glimpse of it," Yoon-ho grumbles. He paces slowly back and forth, unable to stand still. "Maybe it's not one ant. Maybe it's multiple. Maybe it isn't even an ant."

"There is a… distressing lack of information." Jong-in twitches the brim of his hat. He pushes off from the tree and stands, hands clapsed together. "But we can still hope it will be lured out once it grows darker. Have some patience."

He's been having patience, and quite frankly, he's reaching the end of his rope. Still, Yoon-ho keeps his mouth shut and keeps pacing. Jong-in's right, admittedly. It'll be more likely to come out when it's darker, whatever it is. They just need—

Crack.

Yoon-ho moves on instinct. "Get back!" he barks, shoving Jong-in against the tree and drawing his greatsword for defense. He scans the forest wildly, searching for the threat, the—

Oh.

It's a deer.

The deer, startled, disappears back into the underbrush, and Yoon-ho's left standing there, scowling and thoroughly embarassed as Jong-in bursts into laughter behind him.

"Shut. Up," he growls. Sheathing his sword, he turns to glare at Jong-in. This, of course, does nothing to deter him— Jong-in only laughs harder, his eyes screwed shut, his mouth parted in open delight. He's so annoying, so damn frustrating, so damn beautiful. Yoon-ho wants to kiss him so badly it hurts.

"I hate you," he grits out instead. Lies, lies. His heart is thumping— maybe from the adrenaline, maybe from the sight of Jong-in laughing so openly. He can't tell. He should step back, should get away from Jong-in and pretend none of this happened, but—

"You're so cute," Jong-in comments, and there's something strangely warm in his voice. Yoon-ho almost thinks it's fondness, but that can't be right. "I don't need protection, you know, but I appreciate the gesture. What a true knight you are."

"I was just startled," Yoon-ho snaps. "I don't care what happens to you." More lies. He needs to stop lying, but the other option is telling the truth, and if he's being honest with himself—

(If he's being honest with himself, the truth scares him. The truth is that Jong-in leaves him breathless and wanting. The truth is that Yoon-ho wants to kiss him; the truth is that he doesn't really care, anymore, how annoying Jong-in is, because without it he wouldn't be Jong-in. The truth is that something about Jong-in— something about the curve of his mouth, the shine of his eyes, the color of his hair— makes Yoon-ho want to ask him to stay just a little longer. One more spar. One more drink over the feast table. One more… anything.

What does he do with that?

He and Jong-in, they're not— they're not anything. They lead separate lives, separate groups. And the knights have never gotten along too well with the mages. Yoon-ho shouldn't want to kiss him or hold his hand or any of the things he wants to do.

Life, though, seems to have a funny way of making him want it regardless.)

He's been quiet for too long, and Jong-in notices. Laughter subsiding, Jong-in holds out one hand, as if reaching for Yoon-ho's. "Yoon-ho. Are you alright?"

Yoon-ho looks away, his stomach twisting into knots. He doesn't know why he's so nervous all of a sudden. Just— play it off. Be normal, damn it. "What makes you think I'm not?"

"You didn't sound nearly as upset as usual when you said you don't care what happens to me," Jong-in says, almost teasing. "I'm starting to think you really do."

And what if I do? Yoon-ho thinks. But his throat dries around the words. In the end, he swallows them down and says nothing.

"Yoon-ho." Jong-in's voice comes softer this time. "Come here."

He shouldn't. He should walk away. He should tell Jong-in to keep going, tell him they need to get a move on if they're going to find this ant. Instead, Yoon-ho takes a jerky, hesitant step closer to Jong-in. Then another.

Jong-in's hand lands on his cheek. His rings are cold, but his fingers are warm against Yoon-ho's skin. "Don't tell me I'm right," he murmurs. For once there's not a hint of a tease in his expression. His eyes hold Yoon-ho's, painfully earnest.

Without thinking, Yoon-ho leans into Jong-in's palm. He closes his eyes; his heart is pounding. He should back up. He should back up. He—

He doesn't want to.

"And if you were?" he asks. The first non-lie, the first truth he's said. He forces the words out past the lump in his throat, past the nerves that claw at his lungs.

He hears Jong-in's breath hitch, just slightly. It gives him the confidence to open his eyes.

Jong-in's looking at him, and for the first time, Yoon-ho can see everything— all the emotion in his gaze that he usually covers up with a polished, perfect smile. Jong-in looks hesitant, almost afraid, almost— hopeful.

"Then," he says softly, "I'd ask if the flirting worked."

Yoon-ho nearly laughs. "Is that what you call pissing me off every single day?"

"I don't know. Did it work?"

Yes. Yes, it did. You annoy the hell out of me, but I can't be mad because it's you doing it. Maybe I've liked it from the start. Maybe I just like you.

"No," Yoon-ho says. A complete lie.

Jong-in seems to notice, because he smiles, slow and pleased. "Mm. I see." His hand slides down, trailing over Yoon-ho's jaw. "I'll keep doing it, then."

Yoon-ho's thoughts dissipate like smoke in the air. He manages to choke out, "You're the worst."

Flirting. Is that what all this has been? All the snide remarks, the smirks, the subtle jabs that get Yoon-ho fired up every time. Jong-in's got a damn weird way of flirting, if that's the case. Yoon-ho hates that he still likes it.

"I don't know. Seems like you like it."

"Shut up," Yoon-ho says. And when Jong-in opens his mouth, Yoon-ho moves on instinct, crowding Jong-in closer against the tree and kissing him.

Jong-in makes a soft, pleased sound, threading his fingers through Yoon-ho's hair to pull him in. His mouth is warm, warm like his hands and his devastatingly beautiful magic. He's short enough that kissing him like this is already puttting a bit of an uncomfortable crick in Yoon-ho's neck, but he can't bring himself to pull away to adjust. It's like having honey for the first time; Yoon-ho tries to commit it to memory— the press of Jong-in's lips against his, the warmth of them, the softness there.

(It's the closest to bliss he's he's ever felt. Why hadn't he done this sooner? Had he really been so afraid?)

He's not sure who pulls away first. A small, guilty part of him curls in satisfaction at the way Jong-in's breathing a little more heavily, as if trying to catch his breath. His cheeks are faintly flushed; he looks more disheveled than Yoon-ho's ever seen him. It's beautiful. He's beautiful.

"Now you're the one trying to distract me," says Jong-in, peering up at Yoon-ho through his lashes and smirking. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Shut up," Yoon-ho says, again, and kisses him again. Jong-in laughs into his mouth, and god, if that doesn't make Yoon-ho want to keep him here, just the two of them in this forest, kissing him over and over until he's breathless and laughing.

In between kisses, Yoon-ho reaches up to remove that stupid hat and properly tangle his fingers through Jong-in's silk-smooth hair. "You've got some nerve, trying to flirt with me by pissing me off. I thought you were just making it a goal to annoy me daily."

"Oh, I was," Jong-in says, smiling. He's so ridiculous, so utterly infuriating. Yoon-ho can't believe he likes this man. "You're cute when you're annoyed."

"What kind of flirting method is that?"

"Yoon-ho," says Jong-in, exasperated, and he drags Yoon-ho down again, pressing their mouths together. Yoon-ho drops the hat. Whatever. Fuck the hat; he has more important things to be doing right now.

"Don't drop my hat," Jong-in protests as he pulls away. Still, he makes no move to get it. "I was going to say— I called you handsome on multiple occasions. You're a bit dense, you know. I—"

Yoon-ho cuts him off. With a kiss. Jong-in makes a small noise of protest but leans in anyways.

They really shouldn't be doing this. They're here on a mission, and they don't have much time left. The rational part of Yoon-ho knows this; the other, much less rational part— and this is the part that's winning by a mile— doesn't give a shit. It would take a giant killer ant to pull Yoon-ho away from Jong-in right now, anyways. Might as well wait for that to happen.

So he kisses Jong-in again, and again, as if each one could make up for all those gazes, all the times his attention drifted, all the times Jong-in smiled at him and Yoon-ho couldn't figure out why. All that lost time.

It's alright. He'll make up for it, somehow.

It turns out that it doesn't quite take a giant killer ant to pull Yoon-ho away from Jong-in. It does, however, take far more willpower than he wants to admit.

At least Jong-in looks just as flustered. Yoon-ho tries not to let his satisfaction show as he watches Jong-in shuffle around his collar to hide the new splotches of red and purple on his neck. "Not a cat, he says," he mutters.

Yoon-ho snorts. "Deal with it. Your fancy collar can keep it hidden."

Jong-in pouts at him, then swiftly refocuses. He snaps his fingers, igniting a small fire in his palm to give them more light to see by. "We have a bit more time left befor dark. Do you remember which way your team went last time?"

"That way," says Yoon-ho, gesturing. "So we should go opposite." Getting lost isn't a problem; the mages had set up a lodestone at camp, and Jong-in's been keeping a careful hold on its other half.

They start walking again, and Jong-in walks a little closer to Yoon-ho than before, and Yoon-ho tries not to feel too happy about it. They're on a mission, damn it, and now that the haze from earlier has cleared, he's a little embarrassed that he'd just made out with Jong-in the middle of the forest. That's not— it's not exactly a shining example of chivalry.

But Jong-in seems happy about it, so he'll keep his mouth shut. He can't pretend like he's not stupidly giddy about it, too.

"I'm curious," Jong-in says after a moment, breaking the comfortable silence. "What did you think I meant when I called you handsome?"

Yoon-ho startles when Jong-in bumps up against him, fingers slipping through his own. His cheeks heat, but he locks their palms together and squeezes gently.

(If this is what it's going to be like from now on, he has no complaints.)

"I… thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me," Yoon-ho admits.

"By calling you handsome," says Jong-in, slowly.

"Shut up. I know it sounds dumb now."

"You're so oblivious sometimes," says Jong-in. He sounds fond. "Do you even know how long I've been in love with you?"

"No." Yoon-ho looks at him— squeezes his hand. "How long?"

"I didn't say I'd tell you," Jong-in replies.

"You— you're such a jerk."

Jong-in laughs, and Yoon-ho can't even be upset. Not with how happy Jong-in looks when he's laughing, not with the way his shoulders shake and his eyes curve into crescents.

They walk for a moment longer before Jong-in leans his head against Yoon-ho's pauldron. "Would you believe me," he says, quietly, "if I said it's been since the beginning?"

Since the beginning— that must have been at least three, four years ago. When Yoon-ho, freshly leader of the knights himself, shook hands with the newly appointed Archmagus of the Mage Guild and first found himself wondering what color his hair was beneath that ridiculously large hat.

He'd said the usual greetings, the usual pleasantry. Choi Jong-in, in response, asked him— politely, but also with an obvious curl of amusement in his voice— if he'd ever been to a tailor.

Looking back, Yoon-ho supposes he had worn a rather… ill-fitting shirt to the ceremony that day. Still. It sounded somewhat like an insult, so he'd scowled and snapped back— something about that stupid hat, or the excess of rings adorning Jong-in's fingers. Jong-in's lips hard curled into a smirk, and he hadn't left Yoon-ho alone ever since.

Now, he glares at Jong-in. "You're telling me I've been stupid for that long? Was the first thing you said to me you trying to flirt, too?"

"Yes," Jong-in says. "I thought that was exceedingly obvious."

"I thought you were mocking my shirt."

"Think a little harder, Yoon-ho."

"Well, I know that now," Yoon-ho grumbles, flushing. "I… didn't mean to wear something so fitting."

Jong-in snickers. "Don't apologize. It was a welcome sight."

"Was it," says Yoon-ho dryly. Jong-in hums in agreement, soft and mellow.

Yoon-ho tries to think back. He doesn't know when it started, exactly— doesn't know when he started to feel as flustered as he was infuriated by Jong-in's teasing, doesn't know when the breathlessness began to strike, doesn't know when it become difficult to tear his gaze away from Jong-in whenever he was in the room. Maybe it happened slowly, quietly— so steadily he never noticed its onset. He can't remember. Did Jong-in's presence ever bring genuine anger, or was that just another lie he told himself?

Maybe he's always liked him. Maybe Yoon-ho's a bit of an idiot. He doesn't know.

But he's here now, holding Jong-in's hand, and he won't let this slip away. Once they've returned to the capitol, he'll court Jong-in properly, with flowers and jewelry and everything else. Jong-in would probably like that, fancy bastard that he is. Yoon-ho will buy him all the rings he wants if they can keep having this.

Lost in his thoughts as he is, it takes him a moment to notice that Jong-in has lifted his head off of his shoulder and is staring sharply into the trees to his left. It takes Yoon-ho another long moment to pinpoint what, exactly, he's looking at. A dark opening, like a cave, half-hidden behind some thick bushes. There's something ominous about it. Yoon-ho instinctively reaches for the hilt of his greatsword before forcing himself to relax.

"What is it?"

"That cave," Jong-in says slowly. "I'm getting a bad feeling from it."

"Looks like a bear cave," Yoon-ho says. He's fought plenty of bears; they're vicious but not too terrible to defeat. This cave may well be home to some— a responsible knight would clear it out, but…

It's strange. He's never gotten this sort of feeling during any of his missions before— this odd, itching sense that something is wrong. It looks like a regular bear cave, and Yoon-ho doesn't know why it feels so much like it isn't.

"What if there are no bears inside?" Jong-in says. "Maybe some other creature is using it as a home." He glances meaningfully at Yoon-ho.

Yoon-ho weighs their choices. Either they enter and check it out, just the two of them, or they go back for backup first and risk losing the location. If they go in, there's always the chance that it is just bears, or it's a cave that's been long abandoned. There's also the chance…

"Look," says Jong-in quietly. He curls his fingers, making the flame flare brighter. It illuminates something large and almost sparkly lying near the entrance of the cave. An exoskeleton.

"I think we've found that damn ant," Yoon-ho says grimly. This time he does draw his greatsword. He doesn't ask Jong-in if they should go in— he knows what the answer will be.

Jong-in drops his hand, slips off his ring, and summons his spear. Together, they step into the cave.

The entrance tunnel is not very long and fairly straight, and it only takes a minute of walking before it opens up to a chamber. It's pitch-dark, save for the faint glow of Jong-in's fire bouncing off of the nearest walls, but even still Yoon-ho can tell it's a large space.

"Hold on," says Jong-in, and he flicks his fingers upwards. Fire arcs towards the ceiling of the cave, weaving together and forming a flickering chandelier. The light illuminates the chamber, confirming Yoon-ho's supsicions. It is massive— and it's filled with eggs.

"Shit," Yoon-ho says. Eggs mean more ants, and eggs also mean there must be at least two that are already grown— which then means there might be even more. How many of these damn creatures are out there? How have they been so difficult to find?

Jong-in's mouth flattens into a grim line. "We'll have to destroy them all."

"Yeah." Yoon-ho walks over to the nearest egg and kicks it, hard. The steel of his boot leaves a slight crack in the shell. It's tough. This'll be a pain. Not to mention that even if they destroy all these, there might be more. Yoon-ho will have to execute a wide search and destroy any other nests— if they can even find them. Had they simply gotten unlucky those first few times, or are these ants capable of hiding their nests, somehow?

A sudden hissing noise makes Yoon-ho snap his head up. He turns towards the mouth of the chamber, right as a shape emerges from the shadows of the tunnel. It's the ant— massive and white, with beady pink eyes and razor-sharp pincers. It's watching them. Yoon-ho isn't someone who scares easily, but something about the way its eyes land on him makes his stomach twist with anticipation.

Jong-in backs up, standing next to him. "Did it follow us here?" he whispers. "Or did we just happen to find this place while it was away?"

"I don't know," Yoon-ho says, and something inside him tells him that the ant did follow them— that they've had a stalker this whole time. It doesn't matter. He takes a deep breath to quell his anxiety and hefts his sword. "Doesn't matter now. Let's kill this thing."

The ant, which had been silent up until now, lets out a screech and scuttles towards them, shockingly fast. There's no time to think. Jong-in runs to the left as Yoon-ho charges forward and meets the ant in the middle, slamming his sword against its pincers.

It's a miscalculation. The ant's exoskeleton is shockingly hard, and it throws Yoon-ho off-guard. His sword slips; he barely manages to duck away before the ant's pincers snap down on the space where his head just was.

Yoon-ho stumbles, trying to find his balance again as the ant rears its head around. Its hiss turns into an outraged screech as a fireball smashes into its abdomen. Smoke curls into the air. The ant staggers, and the distraction is enough for Yoon-ho to plunge his sword into a thin crack between its plates of armor. Something thick and gooey spurts out, splattering onto Yoon-ho's armor; he ignores it and stabs deeper.

With another screech, the ant swings its body around, dislodging Yoon-ho's sword and sending him stumbling. The next thing he knows, something slams into his chest and knocks him down. Pain flares in his side. He hisses, breathless, as the ant looms over him.

Move. It's going to attack, move, move—

A spear plunges into its eye. More goo splatters onto the ground. The ant screeches and rears back, giving Yoon-ho enough time to stagger to his feet and back away to catch his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jong-in standing with his pointer fingers crossed, fire swirling around his wrists and hands. His eyes are glowing orange and gold behind his glasses, like a firestorm swirling in his irises. There's soot smudged on his nose.

Yoon-ho thinks— rather stupidly, considering the situation that he's in— that he's never seen anyone look so beautiful.

"Its underside is probably sensitive," Jong-in calls. "I'll try to restrain it for you." He sweeps his hands out, and the fire surges forward, cinching tight around the ant's legs. It screeches and lurches back and forth, trying to break free.

Yoon-ho can see sweat dripping down Jong-in's nose, can see how hard he's clenching his jaw in concentration. Whatever he's doing, it must be difficult magic. There's no time, then. Yoon-ho charges the ant. It wriggles harder and one leg manages to break free. The ant swings at Yoon-ho; Yoon-ho parries the strike. As ant rears up, still struggling, he jabs his sword upwards with all his strength and stabs right into the underside of its abdomen. It's like cutting through stone; he grits his teeth and cuts a smooth line through its armor anyways.

The ant collapses. Goo seeps rapidly across the floor of the cave. Its legs scrabble as it tries to get back up, only for another fireball to hit it right on the injured side of its head. This time, when it collapses again, Yoon-ho sees the sliver of a gap in its exoskeleton, where its head connects to the rest of its body.

He hefts his sword. With all his remaining strength, he brings the blade down and decapitates the ant.

The cave falls silent, save for his own labored breathing and the soft scrabbling of the ant's twitching legs against stone. Yoon-ho, panting, stares at them until they stop moving— until he's sure the creature is well and truly dead. Only then does he shake the goo off his sword and sheathe it back at his hip.

Jong-in walks over to him— staggers, really. Whatever he'd done to restrain the ant must've taken a toll on him. He's panting, too, and his face is shiny with sweat. He's still the most beautiful person Yoon-ho has ever seen. Without thinking, Yoon-ho grabs him by the shoulders and crushes him to his chest.

(He doesn't know how to say that a small part of him was afraid— afraid that one or both of them would end up like their predecessors, killed on the job, brought home as bodies, if they were lucky, or bits of fabric and armor if they weren't. He doesn't know how to say that when the ant was poised over him, ready to strike, he'd thought that it was the end.

He doesn't know how to tell Jong-in that, new as it is, he's terrified of losing what they have now. So he holds Jong-in, burying his face into his hair, and Jong-in doesn't complain— merely tucks his face into Yoon-ho's chestplate, even though that can't be comfortable, and snuggles into his hold.)

Who lets go first, Yoon-ho doesn't know. But they separate and silently get to work disposing of the eggs. Yoon-ho crushes them one by one with his sword while Jong-in carefully burns away small groups of eggs. By the time they're done, Yoon-ho feels more exhausted than he can remember, and Jong-in looks ready to pass out.

In mutual understanding, they slump against the wall to rest before heading back. Yoon-ho unbuckles his armor, leaving himself in just his undershirt. Jong-in takes off his hat, tucks himself beneath Yoon-ho's arm and rests his head against his shoulder. His hair is ticklish against Yoon-ho's neck; Yoon-ho makes no move to dislodge him.

They remain there for a long, long time.

When they finally return to camp, the entire group crowds around them, wide-eyed with simultaneous panic and relief. Apparently, when night had fallen and they hadn't emerged, people started to get concerned. A search party was about to be sent out when someone spotted them returning.

Food is distributed. Yoon-ho strips himself of his armor, hugs Byung-gu, and wolfs down dinner. The rotation for watch tonight has already been agreed upon; Yoon-ho is not on it. Everyone agrees that he and Jong-in need rest. Which is just as well— Yoon-ho doubts he could lift his sword against even a goblin, and Jong-in is already half asleep.

Even still, Jong-in— being a ridiculous idiot— tries to offer himself for night watch. Gina tells him, calmly, to go the hell to sleep. Jong-in makes an offended noise, which is a bigger sign of his exhaustion than anything, because normally Jong-in would simply smile and make a snarky comment right back. Instead he's swaying on his feet, unable to even argue back against Gina.

How ridiculous. I hate him, Yoon-ho thinks, unbearably fond. "Jong-in," he calls. "Go the fuck to sleep."

"So crass, Sir Knight," Jong-in says, frowning at him. But his eyes are soft, and he dips his chin in a nod. "Fine. But if there's any trouble—"

"There won't be," Byung-gu says calmly. "Please get some rest, sir. You too, Yoon-ho. Healing magic won't help you with exhaustion, you know."

Worn out from the fight, Yoon-ho passes out as soon as he lies down and sleeps right through the night. He wakes up sore all over, but still feeling far more refreshed than he had last night. After an early breakfast, the group packs up camp and gets ready to head back. Once back at the capitol, they'll analyze maps and plan expeditions to find any more potential nests. For now, Yoon-ho needs a break— and a drink or two at his usual tavern.

This time, when Yoon-ho mounts his horse, Jong-in comes up to him, resting a hand on his knee and peering up at him with a coy smile. "Mind if I ride with you, my knight?"

My knight. Yoon-ho clears his throat, trying not to flush. There's people around, and he has a reputation to maintain. "Whatever," he mutters. "Get on."

Jong-in raises a single, delicate eyebrow.

Yoon-ho will kill him one day, he really will. Cheeks burning, he extends his hand, and Jong-in's smirk softens into a pleased smile. His fingers thread easily through Yoon-ho's own, and Yoon-ho uses it to help Jong-in onto the horse behind him.

Jong-in wraps his arms around Yoon-ho's waist. His stupidly large hat keeps him from leaning in too close, but Yoon-ho still feels the warmth of him against his back. It really shouldn't affect him as much as it does, and yet—

He's happy. There's nothing else to it, really. Jong-in's sitting behind him, the most mundane thing in the world, and Yoon-ho wouldn't trade it for anything.

It gives him the courage to tell Jong-in, quietly, "When we get back, and everything's sorted out, I'll buy you flowers. And something else to wear that isn't your dumb hat." And I'll court you properly, court you like you deserve.

"Is that a promise?" asks Jong-in playfully.

Yoon-ho grins. "Of course it is. I'm a knight. Not shady like you."

"What a gentleman," Jong-in murmurs. Yoon-ho feels the light touch of his fingers against his jaw, and it almost makes him fall sideways off the horse. Damn it. That's the second time Jong-in's done that, and it really shouldn't be affecting Yoon-ho as much as it does.

"You suck," he tells Jong-in, who's laughing quietly. "I take it back. I'm not getting you anything."

"What a shame," says Jong-in, still laughing. "And here I was looking forward to it."

Yoon-ho shakes his head in exasperation. He lied, again— but it's alright. He knows that Jong-in knows it's a lie. Once they're back— once everything has been sorted out, and the ants have been cleared, and a day comes when they're both miraculously free— he'll take Jong-in to that fancy tailor shop with the expensive fabrics, the one his junior knights keep talking about. While Jong-in is browsing, Yoon-ho will sneak out to buy him some flowers, and they'll walk to the lake and enjoy the sun. A proper courtship for the man Yoon-ho wants to spend forever hand-in-hand with.

And the hat, of course. He'll buy a hat— one that isn't twice the damn size of Jong-in's head. He has no clue how Jong-in even manages to pull it off. Magic, maybe. Probably.

But first, getting home. And then the flowers, and the hat, and everything else.

Yoon-ho can't wait.