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By the time he makes it back to Cheonjongo, it’s over.
The bodies of Lee Lim’s followers line the room. The moonlight is pouring down through the broken ceiling. There’s the crunch of glass beneath his feet and faint shouting in the distance.
He finds Yeong slumped against the base of the dais. There are tear tracks down his face and blood soaking his clothes. He’s not breathing.
No , Gon thinks wildly. No, not Yeong. This cannot be the price to pay.
He clutches at his Unbreakable Sword, fingers scrambling to find a pulse and when he finds nothing, Gon feels something within him shatter.
He’s not sure how long he stays in the between world. Time is without logic here, and meaningless to him in the face of his loss.
Gon knows he should go back; to which world he doesn’t know, but at least one of them. To confirm for himself that his uncle’s reign of terror was over. To bear witness of the fallout of changing history. To protect and rule as he was meant to. To find Tae-eul again like he promised.
He doesn’t do any of that. He kneels by the body of his oldest friend, where nothing can touch them and he watches a never-ending sunset.
Lee Gon is a man of science. He does not believe in deities and magic, but staring at Yeong’s still face, he finds himself praying.
In the end, prayers do nothing and so he must.
Gon goes to see Tae-eul, but he doesn’t approach her. She doesn’t recognise him, but she’s with Na-ri and her dad and a woman who can only be her mother. She looks happy, carefree.
He wants to walk up to her and hug her in relief, but he doesn’t.
Gon isn’t sure what he’s doing, or how long it will take or even if it will work at all. He’s not sure about anything other than he has to fix this.
He tells himself he’ll come back for her when it’s all over.
Part of him thinks she deserves better than this. She deserves someone who was here for her when her life has just been turned upside down, but that person can’t be Gon right now, not when Yeong isn’t in this world and he’s missing half of himself.
Using the gates was not an exact science by any measure and his first attempt lands him in a world where Yeong doesn’t know him at all.
He runs up to Yeong - clad in his Navy uniform and looking every bit the outstanding soldier he remembers the other being. But when their eyes meet, there’s recognition but no familiarity.
“Your Majesty,” Yeong bows formally. “We were not expecting to be honoured with your presence on board today.”
It’s Yeong’s voice, and his face, but it’s not Yeong, not his Yeong and Gon exchanges greetings with his heart twisting in his chest.
The second attempt, he doesn’t find Yeong at all, not after looking for a week. He tries to swallow the disappointment and he forces himself through another gate. It brings him to a Jo Yeong who is his friend, but not his guard. A Yeong that calls him hyung and smiles easier and it’s so sweet that Gon almost doesn’t want to leave.
He thinks back to those smiles to ground him when in another world, Gon is left staring at the grave of his friend, lost in the line of duty protecting him when he was 25. That one hurts something spectacular.
The attempts blur into each other and he loses count of the number and the faces and the crushing disappointment.
Something builds and builds in his chest.
He finds himself back in the palace and staring at Yeong who is giving him a quick rundown of the security plan for that evening.
Yeong is standing by his desk in the King’s study, back straight, but shoulders relaxed. It’s a sight he’s seen a thousand times, but right now, it makes Gon’s heart stutter. Yeong is still running through the logistics efficiently, simple and to the point, and Gon doesn’t hear a word of it, too busy staring.
His captain looks up and sighs softly. He looks a little exasperated and a little fond, an achingly familiar combination for Gon and he thinks, maybe this is it.
“Yeong-ah,” he says, chest tight. “You’re okay.”
The other man frowns slightly. “Of course I am. Are you alright?”
Whatever his expression was has Yeong setting down his tablet and stepping closer. When he puts a hand on the King’s shoulder, Gon melts into his touch.
“Maybe you should take a break from your math problem,” Yeong suggests.
Gon drops his pen dutifully, eyes never moving away from the other man’s face.
But then Yeong’s hand slides up and fingers curl into the hair at the back of Gon’s head, the thumb rubbing gentle circles against the skin of his neck.
Gon goes very still.
It’s not Yeong , he thinks at the same time Yeong leans down to kiss him.
He kisses back despite every fibre in his body screaming at him and he gasps when Yeong eventually pulls back.
His mind is white noise and his skin electric where Yeong’s touched him.
This was nothing like kissing Tae-eul and nothing like how Yeong usually touched him, careful, protective, concerned.
This was slow, purposeful and lingering. When the younger man pulls him up by the lapels of his jacket, Gon goes with him willingly and he finds himself with one hand against Yeong’s neck and another splayed across the captain’s right hip.
He should really stop, he thinks as Yeong leans further and further back against the desk, Gon leaning over him. Yeong huffs out a sharp breath as Gon tightens his grip on his hip unconsciously. He should really, really stop.
Yeong stops kissing Gon for a second to pop the top two buttons of his shirt and when he tilts his head back, Gon gets a view of that neck on display, those eyes looking at him in a way that his Yeong has never done and Gon feels heat curl in his gut and lick up his spine.
He’s got his hand on the bare skin of Yeong’s back and his mouth against that neck when the captain’s comms buzz and Yeong stops Gon with a gentle, but firm hand.
He straightens and tucks his shirt back in with an apologetic smile, and Gon stands there frozen as he watches the other give orders to his team in a calm, measured voice.
Later , Yeong mouths at him, with a promising smile.
Gon sits there staring long after the other is gone. His hand shakes as he pats his hair back into place and tries not to think about what could’ve happened, and what could’ve been.
When he makes it back into the between place, he still can’t quite catch his breath. He can’t bring himself to look at Yeong at all.
Gon almost gives up hope when he finally finds his Yeong.
He finds himself in Seoul outside Nari’s cafe and she smiles at him like she knows him. She asks him to tell Eun-seob to come over for dinner if he sees him. There’s a keycard in his coat pocket.
He doesn’t run all the way to the hotel, but it’s close.
The door of the suite opens for him and he’s stepping onto familiar carpet. The hotel room even smells the same as the last time he was here. Faint pine and a hint of Yeong’s cologne.
His heart is thundering in his chest.
There’s a click of a gun being cocked and he smiles when Yeong sees him and lowers the gun immediately.
“Pyeha, you’re back.”
He sounds surprised, but relieved and Gon crosses the space between them and pulls the other man into a hug.
He’s not prepared for the groan of pain from Yeong and he steps back in alarm to see the other man clasping at his shoulder.
“I’m fine, it’s nothing serious,” Yeong quickly explains.
Gon reaches out and pulls back the edge of Yeong’s shirt, jaw clenching at the purple-blue maring the captain’ skin.
Did this happen last time too , he thinks. How could I not notice he was hurt?
“Yeong-ah,” he breathes. “Did someone shoot you?”
“I’m fine,” his captain answers, waving a hand dismissively. “It was nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” he snaps, harsher than he intends. “You can’t keep getting hurt.”
The other man is frowning, clearly confused by what he deems an overreaction to a minor injury. “It’s part of the job. And I’m fine, I am still more than capable of protecting you if that’s what you’re worried about-”
“That’s not what I’m worried about!” Gon barks, furious.He grabs Yeong by the arms. “What do I have to say to get you to give a fuck about your own safety!”
Yeong sucks in a breath and almost takes a step back. The king never swore.
Even as he stares at Yeong, he knows it’s useless to reason with him. Yeong will always and forever prioritise Gon’s safety and wishes over his own wellbeing. He sees himself as expendable, merely a sword and shield to be wielded for the good of the king.
“I understand your concern,” Yeong says haltingly. “But it’s my duty.”
Gon knows what he has to do.
“Then maybe it shouldn’t be,” he says and Yeong’s eyes widen in shock.
“Pyeha?”
“Captain Jo Yeong, you’re dismissed from your duties as the captain of the royal guards,” he states, even if his gut twists at the words coming out of his own mouth.
“No. Don’t do this,” Yeong says, as if he knows what is coming. He probably does. Sometimes Gon thinks his friend knows him better than he does himself.
He almost takes it back at the look on Yeong’s face. But he thinks of Yeong, bloody and unmoving, bathed in sun, but skin cold to the touch.
“It’s my last order for you, Captain. Your services are no longer required.”
The devastation is instant and total.
Something like grief and fear blooms in Yeong’s eyes. His eyes are wet and his jaw is clenched so hard Gon is afraid he might break something. Gon forces himself to not look away even as the look in those eyes sear into him. He deserves this. Every world-shattering, soul-breaking second.
When Yeong finally speaks, his voice is even, but soft, hollow. “As your Majesty commands.”
Yeong swallows, then bows, deep.
Gon does not so much as breathe as he watches his best friend walk away, back straight and steps even. He closes his eyes and sucks in a desperate breath, then another and he’s crying before he realises.
It’s for his own good, he thinks faintly. I have to save him, no matter what.
In the end it was all for nothing anyway.
Yeong is so damn loyal that even without his duty, even against orders, he still manages to follow Gon that night to face Lee Lim, and he still ends up shielding Gon’s younger self with his body.
He still dies before Gon can make it back.
Gon doesn’t travel again for a long time after that one.
He sits by Yeong’s body and he thinks of things like Feigenbaum and Glaisher–Kinkelin constants. Things that make him think, but doesn’t make him hurt .
You have to stop, the rational part of his brain tells him. This is fruitless. You’re only hurting yourself and him.
You can’t stop. You can’t live without him, his heart pleads.
He finds himself in Seoul again, back in 2019 and Gon lets his feet carry him down the familiar streets. The neon lights and cool autumn wind feels like an embrace.
He’s not sure if Yeong is here in this world, and he doesn’t allow himself to hope that it might be his Yeong. Gon’s lost his way now and he lets the wind carry him.
It does lead him to Yeong in the end, sitting by the river with a cup of ramyeon. He goes to approach when someone beats him to it, sitting down besides Yeong and handing him a drink.
Gon blinks as he recognises the man.
Yeong doesn’t shift away when Detective Kang sits close enough that their elbows bump.
The other man looks much like Gon remembers, but the smile on his face makes him look younger.
Yeong smiles back.
It’s been so long since he’s seen it, Gon feels his heart skip a beat.
The detective leans over to steal a bite of ramyeon, but Yeong’s reflexes allow him to hold the cup out of the detective’s reach. Gon doesn’t catch whatever Kang Shin-jae says, but it makes Yeong chuckle and hold out his chopsticks.
The detective stretches after taking a bite, leaning back on the steps with a muffled groan.
Yeong turns in concern, reaching out, hands checking for injuries and Shin-jae covers Yeong’s hands with his own. Yeong doesn’t pull away at the touch and when Shin-jae leans up for a kiss, Yeong meets him halfway.
Gon turns away sharply, too late to avoid seeing what Yeong looks like kissing someone.
He remembers Yeong kissing him like that, that night in his study, a world and a lifetime ago. He’s hit with yearning, grief and possessiveness all at once and it makes his hands clench.
This is wrong , he thinks and a split second later before he can catch himself - Yeong’s mine.
He can’t begin to process that right now, so Gon turns and leaves and he spends hours just walking along the river, chest tight and hollow all at once.
The realisation that he is in love with his best friend is bittersweet. Something clicks into place in his life that Gon could never quite figure out - solid and definitive, an answer to a question that has eluded him his whole life.
The fact that it only happens now is unforgivable.
Gon thinks of the way Yeong looks at him when he doesn’t think the king is paying attention. The hesitant caution with which the other reciprocated to Gon’s displays of affection, thoughtlessly given and taken. The way he averted his eyes and retreated inwards when Gon chased after Tae-eul.
He was an idiot at best, cruel at worst.
Gon stops trying to calculate or plan. He simply steps through a gate, never more determined and thinking of Yeong, Yeong, Yeong.
He finds himself back in 1994, the night his father dies.
He thinks of what he might say to stop Yeong from going and he knows he can’t. He irrationally thinks of trying to knock the man out, but he knows he won’t win.
“Pyeha, I have to go,” Yeong says and it’s his Yeong. Gon knows it instinctively and against all logic. He’s stared into the same eyes a thousand times and he knows .
“Yeong-ah.”
He has replayed this night on loop a thousand times. The first time, he had saved himself, but Lee Lim and his traitors had gotten away and set in motion his acts of destruction. The second time, they’d stopped the traitors and saved his childhood self, but at the cost of Yeong.
What could he do? Was he doomed to always lose?
He reaches out and grabs Yeong a moment before they step into the chaos at Cheonjongo. It’s instinctual, and he pulls them into the shadows, arms locked around the other man.
Yeong looks at him in confusion and alarm, but Gon shakes his head. “Wait.”
Everything slows. He sees his younger self pick up the sword. He sees the way it slices his uncle’s hand. Watches as half the Manpashikjeok drop.
Yeong jerks in his arms trying to get free when his uncle grabs young Gon and presses the broken flute into his neck.
“Trust me.” He tightens his grip and he can feel Yeong take in a deep breath, and Gon knows how much it’s costing the captain to stay still.
His logic is flawed, he knows, but it’s all he has. If Yeong doesn’t have to protect him, he has a chance to look after himself.
He watches his younger self bleed.
“Shoot the ceiling,” he orders, releasing his hold on the other. “Now.”
Yeong reacts without hesitation and the glass explodes down.
They move without speaking, in sync and deadly. Yeong takes care of the traitors, eyes dark with anger and he moves faster than Gon has ever seen him.
Gon moves his way through the guards in an equally efficient manner, but his focus is on his uncle.
He shoots the man in the leg and then again in the arm.
“Who are you?” his uncle spits out, clutching at his leg. “I’ll destroy the Manpashikjeok if you take another step.”
Gon watches as the man picks up a heavy paperweight and holds it over the legendary flute. The flute that is the key to a thousand worlds, to endless knowledge and possibilities tantalisingly within reach.
He looks over at Yeong. Yeong who is bleeding from one arm and is limping slightly, but is still standing.
Gon tightens his grip and shoots. The flute shatters and his uncle screams in fury.
It’s as he told his uncle in another life. He doesn’t need eternity and infinity.
He already has everything he needs.
“You know what a week means right?” he asks pointedly as he steps into his office and sees a familiar figure standing by his desk.
“I believe I took a week off as you ordered,” his captain greets, calmly. “Your Majesty.”
Gon eyes him unimpressed. “A week is seven days. By my count it’s only been five.”
“I had assumed you referred to the work week.”
Gon sighs, and gives up on the argument. Instead he leans in to check the wound on Yeong’s neck. It’s healing nicely.
He notices the way Yeong’s eyes drop and his body tenses when Gon gets too close. He wonders how he never saw it before.
“Yeong-ah,” he starts and has to take a breath when Yeong looks up at him. “Thank you for being here.”
The captain frowns, too surprised to step back. “Pyeha?”
“Yeong-ah,” Gon says again, and he’s so close he can hear the little suck of breath from the shorter man.
He cups Yeong’s face with both hands and touches their foreheads together. “Yeong-ah.”
His captain’s jaw is clenched so hard that it must hurt. There’s fear in his eyes. Hope too.
It’s a confirmation of what Gon already knew and he closes the distance between them.
Yeong gasps against his mouth and for a second, Gon thinks he’s miscalculated. But then Yeong’s fisting hands in his jacket and kissing him back.
It’s different from last time. They aren't long-term lovers sharing a casual moment in between work. This time it’s desperate, uncontrolled, a heady mix of the forbidden and the repressed. Gon’s hand is shaking as he cradles Yeong’s neck and when they break apart to catch their breath, he sees that Yeong’s eyes are wet.
“What-”
He cuts Yeong off. “I love you.”
Yeong makes a small broken sound in the back of his throat and he looks like Gon just slapped him. “What do you mean you-”
“I love you,” he says again. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “I loved you in a hundred worlds and a hundred lifetimes, so stop doubting me and just accept it.”
Yeong still looks like he’s questioning Gon’s sanity, but there’s a soft look blossoming in his eyes, and his bottom lip trembles as he stares at the king.
“Okay,” he mutters. “Okay.”
This time Yeong is the one who leans in and Gon finally feels whole again.