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It wasn't that Choi Han disliked the way Cale-nim called him.
Far from it.
Any way the man deigned to call him was fine. His lord always spoke his name with a grudging affection laced with exasperation.
So what wasn't there to like?
To hear the little hitches in his voice every day, his smiles and soft grumbles?
It was just...
Discovering that Cale-nim had been Korean too had felt like a blessing.
Like a shared secret between the two of them. A small piece of familiarity that Choi Han could indulge in.
Was allowed to.
Well, the fact that the prince-nim knew it too was a little less fortunate, but Rok Soo had been happy to let him know, and that was all that really mattered.
Still, Choi Han couldn't help but feel just a tiny bit disappointed when he learned that his nephew had been closer to Cale-nim than he was.
That Choi Jung Soo had known Kim Rok Soo first.
Had shared a lifetime with him back in their old world.
That he had once been part of Cale-nim's life before him, and that he still mattered to him so much even after death.
That he could be called family, even if Cale-nim never allowed himself to admit it out loud.
It was petty, he knew, to feel jealous over something as absurdly simple as that.
To know that he shouldn't feel that way about the dead. To know that those memories had been what kept Cale-nim sane back then.
But he wanted that acknowledgment too.
The prince-nim had his own form of it, after all. A relationship that Cale-nim more often than not used to his gain.
A shared and exasperated secret that included no one else.
So why couldn't he?
He never said it out loud, though. His throat simply refused to let the words out.
And he was fine with it.
Really.
In all the ways that mattered, he was younger than his lord anyway. Decades in a forest did not maturity make. So why should he sulk over something like that?
He had Cale-nim.
The him of today and then later.
That was enough.
It was more than enough.
(Had to be.)
So there was no reason to—
“Han hyung.”
Choi Han stilled.
...Huh?
He blinked.
What did he just hear?
Had that been a mistake of the tongue?
But Cale-nim only ever called him “Choi Han,” and the man was far too meticulous to simply say it wrong.
There was no way that—
He turned around with a swallow, desperate to make sure he hadn't heard wrong.
“Cale-nim,” he began, eyes twinkling despite himself, heart racing a thousand miles per second. “W-What did you just say?”
Cale-nim didn't move.
He was still working on his papers, head tilted as if he hadn't heard him. His hum almost absent.
But Choi Han knew the man far too well by now to be fooled by that act.
The way his lips curled minutely was a dead giveaway.
The slight furrow of his eyebrows, too.
And it wasn't like Raon could have said it. The word was far too foreign for him.
And his snores too loud on the couch.
“Isn't it just your imagination?” Cale-nim mumbled, a touch annoyed. “I was just trying to understand this symbol and—”
“Rok Soo-ah.”
The man accordingly shut up.
Just like he always did when his true name was said.
His head somehow lowered even further, ears just a little bit tinted pink.
(A sight that he jealously kept in his mental library of Rok Soo's expressions. His nephew would be proud.)
“...Hyung,” he repeated.
It was too quiet for anyone else to hear.
But it was loud enough for Choi Han.
Cale-nim's flustered expression left no room for doubt. His hands went to his hair, scratching at it in embarrassment.
Choi Han's smile was so wide it hurt.
All of those tiny flusters that made Cale-nim exactly who he was.
Made him so lovely to him.
“Yes, Rok Soo-ah?” he beamed, his entire body lighting up.
Cale-nim muttered a quiet “shut up,” but Choi Han was far too happy to care.