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It is late at night, when the moon hangs high in the sky, that Nakyum awakens to arms tightened around him and ragged breaths against the crown of his head. His face is pressed into his lover’s heaving chest, nose filled with the scent of his perspiration. Panic sets Nakyum’s nerves alight, because he has never seen Seungho this way. Has he contracted a fever? Some sort of illness that—
“M-My Lord,” Nakyum taps his back, tries pushing against his chest, but neither yields results. “My Lord, are you quite alright?”
Seungho doesn’t respond; Nakyum’s not even sure he heard him. Seungho’s fingers clench tight around him, nails digging into his back almost painfully. Nakyum winces, and he thumps at Seungho’s back again. “My Lord!”
That seems to do the trick. Seungho gasps, and his breaths begin to slow. Nakyum breathes a sigh of relief, and he is about to ask what just transpired when Seungho crushes Nakyum to him. Nakyum splutters, the air squeezed from his lungs. His Lord can be a brute who doesn’t know his own strength sometimes, but those savage moments are typically reserved for their nightly jaunts. During the day, he’s as tender as can be, if not a little playful.
“Nakyum…” Seungho’s voice shakes. An ember of panic burns in Nakyum’s stomach again. “My Kyum…”
He repeats the name, breath shuddering. Each exhale is hot on the top of Nakyum’s head. His hands tremble against Nakyum’s back. His heart pounds against his ribcage, so loud that Nakyum could hear every beat. Fear thrums through Nakyum, because he’s not sure what’s happening, not sure what to say. It’s eerily familiar, though—
A sob wrenches out of his lord’s throat, and Nakyum flies into a frenzied panic once more.
“My Lord!” Nakyum cries, wrapping his slender arms around Seungho, rubbing at his back. Seungho convulses with every broken sob, each suppressed whimper. Nakyum whispers calming platitudes against him, willing his voice to keep steady despite the jump of his pulse and the blood coursing in his ears. “It’s okay now,” “You’re safe,” “I’m here.”
After what seems like an eternity, Seungho stills, and he breathes in deep and long. Nakyum begins to relax as well, but he does not stop in his motions, hoping to keep his Lord soothed.
“Are you feeling better now?” Nakyum asks, leaning back. But Seungho chases him, cheek nuzzled into his hair. “My Lord?”
“Apologies,” Seungho mumbles against his scalp, and Nakyum’s heart clenches at the slight waver in his words. “I must have woken you.”
“That’s fine. I’m more worried about you.”
“Don’t be. It was insignificant. You should return to your slumber.”
Nakyum bites his lip. It’s always like this; Seungho would always downplay his suffering, if only to grant Nakyum peace of mind. Except, it hardly works, and Nakyum ends up worrying anyway. “I will, if you would grant me one small request.”
A pause. Seungho pretending to consider it, perhaps. Nakyum already knows he would oblige. “Ask away.”
“May I see your face?”
Another pause. Then, slowly, Seungho peels himself away from Nakyum, and Nakyum’s heart shatters. Even in the waning light of the moon, he can see his pinched brows, the red rimming his eyes, the glistening rivulets running down his blotchy cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Nakyum cups his jaw to thumb away the tears, but Seungho turns his head, pressing a kiss to his palm.
“My Lord…” Nakyum whispers. “Would you like to… talk about what you dreamt?”
Emotion flickers across his face, one that Nakyum rarely sees. Utter terror. But it’s gone as quickly as it arrived, replaced with solemnness. “It was something that occurred a long time ago. It has no bearing on this present day.”
“What was it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Seungho closes his eyes, his broad hand coming up to grip Nakyum’s wrist, warm and secure. “It was the day I thought I lost you for good.”
Nakyum vaguely remembers Seungho saying something along those lines, when he was still sitting pathetically in his holding cell, awaiting his execution. About thinking that he’d lost Nakyum. Seungho shed tears then too, silently rolling down his face, and Nakyum wished, for the first time in a long while, that Seungho could forget about him and spare himself the heartbreak when Nakyum was inevitably punished. Seungho sacrificed so much for him, it wasn’t fair for him to endure this too.
“I do not know how you came to be alive. Lord Haseon had you thrown into the sea. I rode as fast as I could, but in such a vast expanse of nothingness, logic dictates that it would have been impossible to find you. Yet, I was determined to do so.”
Nakyum remembers that night, and tears spring to his own eyes. He could have died. Seungho could have died that day and it would have been all Nakyum’s fault. “My Lord, you shouldn’t have…”
“Seungwon found me, dragged me back. Dragged me away from you. Or where I thought you were. I could have been lied to, and you were somewhere else entirely. Lord Haseon played a rather clever game.” Seungho’s gaze meets Nakyum’s, and Nakyum holds it. Sees the sincere anguish in his eyes, as he dredges up those horrible memories. Memories that Nakyum wishes he could erase from his Lord’s mind. He doesn’t need to bear that burden, doesn’t need to remember the pain.
“I wandered the shores, hoping against hope that I could find a shred of you. Washed up, maybe. Saved by a fisherman’s boat. Life had no meaning without you around, and my days became bleak, wrought with grey. Even the waves looked inviting, if it meant that I could join you in the watery depths.”
“My Lord.” Nakyum dives at him, wrapping his arms tight around Seungho. Seungho sinks into his embrace, going limp against him. “Promise me you’ll never do that, even if I were to pass—”
“Do not say it,” Seungho growls, and Nakyum gulps. “That is something I cannot promise. Nakyum, we are bound in mind, body, and soul. If your life were to be extinguished, then I too will share the same fate. I told you once before: I cannot bear to live a life when you do not exist.”
“Then…” Nakyum clenches his fists. His Lord can be truly stubborn at times. “I have to be sure not to perish.”
It’s only then that Nakyum feels Seungho smile against him as he presses a kiss to Nakyum’s forehead. They stay like that, Nakyum curled into Seungho’s chest, their hearts beating as one. It isn’t long before Seungho succumbs to exhaustion. For the first time, he falls asleep first, arms going slack as his breaths even out.
Nakyum remains awake, biting his bottom lip. If Seungwon hadn’t found him that day, there is no doubt that Seungho would have walked into the ocean to his death. If he believed Nakyum was there, he would have strode forward with his head held high, no questions asked.
It’s Nakyum’s turn to cry, trembling against Seungho. Seungho remains asleep, but he pulls Nakyum in, if Nakyum could be any closer.
Under the light of the moon, rosy petals falling in the wake of the spring zephyrs, Nakyum and Seungho sleep.