I was rereading LOTCF and thought this panel made Cale look like a jealous girlfriend lmfao
Choi Han later says something along the lines of “since you told me to find her I put more effort into being friendly” and Cale thinks “you didn’t have to try that hard…” LOL
It’s just so silly to me (obviously Cale was just stressed about how the story was deviating from TBOAH but it’s still funny)
A/N: My rejected draft for the Our vow of Death ChoiCale Wedding zine! You can probably see the similarities in some of the scenes, since I was able to save them (though the pov is different!). My singular regret is that I couldn’t find the right way to put in the last section from here in the final draft, I really liked it (I am feral over possessiveness like that). It also was why I was having difficulties pulling this fic together satisfactorily, I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be from Choi Han’s or Cale’s pov, because the final scene only worked from Cale’s but the others were very Choi Han centric…. Ended up alternating for the final copy but you can see a what-if here…
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1
The door was locked.
Dumbfounded, Choi Han stared at the handle. This wasn’t his first time standing on Cale’s balcony, secreting his way in after midnight. He’d done it a million times before, at the summer house and other noble estates, at inns and castles and even the Mage’s Tower. It had always been a simple task to jump to Cale’s window and slip in. A harder one still to dodge Ron’s and Raon’s wary eyes.
Yet, today the door was closed, the curtains were drawn, and the handle refused to budge.
He gripped it lightly, careful not to break it, but it didn’t so much as wiggle either. Crossing his arms, Choi Han tapped his foot impatiently as he pondered his next move. While he was certain Cale wouldn’t mind if he broke in, this was the Henituse manor. The lord would definitely have something to say about it, and the last thing he wanted right now was to get on Cale’s father’s bad side.
No, his…father-in-law’s bad side.
Choi Han tried not to shudder at the thought. Even thinking the word felt unnatural. He glanced down at the ring on his finger, all too keenly aware of its weight and shape. They were married. He was married. He had a family now.
Something that he’d thought impossible, after all of those decades in the woods, after watching Harris village burn down.
Yet, the undeniable proof sat heavy on his finger.
A sudden tap broke his thoughts. Cale appeared on the other side of the glass, pushing back the curtains just enough to mouth something at him. The dim lighting made it hard to see his expression, but Choi Han was certain it wasn’t a happy one.
Maybe he was just as surprised by the locked door as he was. Miming opening the door, Choi Han shook his head.
Cale rolled his eyes and turned slightly, gesturing at the bedroom door behind him.
Did he want him to go through the door? Confused, Choi Han cocked his head and raised his hands.
Unlatching the balcony lock, Cale sighed. Before Choi Han could enter, he held out a hand to stop him. “Why are you sneaking around like a thief?”
Choi Han frowned. They both knew the answer to that question. “Ron.”
For a retired assassin, his instincts were too sharp. Regardless of when or how Choi Han had tried to enter through the bedroom door, Ron would appear from the shadows, a sly smirk on his face as he pointed out how late it was.
“That…” Cale sighed, running a hand through his hair. His expression grew exasperated as he extended his arm, splaying his fingers so that the gem-studded band was clearly visible. “What’s this?”
“Your wedding ring.”
“What does it mean?”
“…that we’re married?” Choi Han stated, perplexed by the line of questioning.
Cale exhaled heavily. “And what does that mean?”
When Choi Han didn’t answer, Cale took a step back and clicked his tongue as he gestured at the room. “I am your husband. This is your room. That is your bed. That door is your bedroom door. You can use the door instead of the balcony.”
“Ron—”
“Ron sealed the balcony doors himself.” Cale shook his head. “What did you both call it? A security risk?” He rested a hand on his hip and clucked again. “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he had seen this coming.”
“Oh.” Feeling a little silly, Choi Han rubbed the back of his neck. Really, what had he been thinking, entering like this? He glanced at the door and took an awkward step back. “Should I…go around?”
“Next time. You’re already here.” Cale tugged on his shirt, forcing him in. “There’s a few other things that I need my husband to do.”
My husband.
It was the first time he’d heard the words and it sent a shudder through his spine.
2
The hickey on Cale’s neck was obvious.
Sitting at the dining room table, Choi Han tried to look elsewhere, but his eyes kept drawing back to the bruise he’d left. Higher than the collar, a dark reddish purple that contrasted with his pale skin, it was impossible to miss. Even the servants, as they brought food from the kitchen, would discretely peek at it before looking elsewhere.
It was understandable. Before their wedding, Cale had always ordered Choi Han to leave his marks in places that could be easily hidden. Yet, last night…Choi Han flushed as he remembered Cale lying on his pillows, lazily tapping his neck with a finger as he told him where to bite. Or how Cale had dragged his teeth before giving a mark of his own.
He resisted the urge to touch his own neck, at the swelling that throbbed even now. Somehow, it felt even more real than the ring, a mark of possession unmistakable to all that he passed.
“You look exhausted,” Ron said, gently placing a cup of lemon tea in front of Cale. Despite his concern, his eyes were on Choi Han’s the entire time, as sharp as a predator’s. “Perhaps too much strenuous exercise at night?”
Choi Han flushed.
Raon burst into laughter as he ate, spraying bacon and ham everywhere. “Exercise? Human wouldn’t do that—he doesn’t like it. He’s too weak.”
Unperturbed, Cale picked up the cup. “Don’t talk and eat at the same time,” he gently chided.
“I can do both,” Raon grumbled, taking a giant bite out of a steak as though to prove it. “I’m a great dragon.”
“Great dragons do things one at a time.” Raising his eyes, Cale met Choi Han’s gaze over the cup and his lips curled softly. “As for the exercise…I don’t hate it, but it is wearing me out.”
Ron snorted as Choi Han sank into his seat, mortified.
“Shall I prepare something…vitalizing for lunch?” Ron suggested. Once again, he locked eyes with Choi Han and smirked. “Though…perhaps too much vitality caused this.”
“That…” Choi Han couldn’t even deny it. A disheveled Cale had said something similar this morning as he’d crawled out of bed and complained about his back. Maybe he had overdone it.
“You don’t hate it? You?” Raon stared at Cale before setting aside his food. Flying close, he hovered around Cale’s head and examined him. His paws patted Cale’s cheeks. He gasped, finally registering the discussion, “You’re tired, human!”
“Extremely so. I would like to spend the rest of the day in bed.” Cale grimaced as he drank his tea. “It’s even more bitter than usual.”
“Only the freshest lemons for you, my lord.” Ron smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes.
“What’s this?” Raon stopped patting Cale as he noticed the hickey on his neck. A dark energy started to pulse out of him, far too powerful for someone so small. “You’re hurt! Who hurt you?”
It was like watching a carriage crash in real time. Choi Han opened his mouth, but nothing came out. What could he say that wouldn’t make Raon angry at him? How could he even explain this to a dragon who still didn’t fully understand human relationships?
Unlike him, Ron didn’t have the same problem. He smiled genially as he fanned the flames. “Indeed, it appears to be a bite from a dog.”
“A dog? I’ll kill him!” Raon growled.
“That isn’t necessary,” Cale muttered, a warning in his voice. “Ron, don’t tease my husband too much.”
Any joy Choi Han might have felt at Cale’s words was immediately destroyed by Ron’s response.
“Nonsense, our primary duty is your safety,” Ron said blithely, as though he hadn’t a clue what he was stirring up. He gave Choi Han a sardonic smile. “You’ll help, won’t you?”
3
“You don’t think they’re following us?” Choi Han asked, peeking outside the window. He half-expected to see grey hair or a familiar flash of black scales. Despite Cale’s orders, he wouldn’t put it past Raon or Ron to secretly tag along on their honeymoon.
“I told them not to,” Cale stated simply, as though that were enough. Perhaps it would be, if they were ordinary beings.
Choi Han bit his cheek. While he could usually sense Ron, Raon was getting harder and harder to keep track of these days, especially as his dragon powers increased. “I thought they’d worry for your safety.”
“Who could get past you?” Cale asked, resting his hand on Choi Han’s knee.
“That—” Now that they were looking at each other, Choi Han was all too aware of just how close they were, of how their thighs and shoulders pressed against each other. The carriage was small but comfy and with each bump, he was reminded once more of their proximity.
The glint in Cale’s eyes didn’t help at all and Choi Han felt his throat dry.
“No one,” he managed to reply, tearing his eyes away and forcing himself to look outside the window once more, if only for a distraction this time. They were passing through Perthle now and the stone pillars were as numerous as ever, lining the streets and dotting every house. The last time they’d come here, they’d barely known each other.
“Do you want to make one?”
Choi Han blinked, surprised to hear those words from Cale. “I thought you didn’t like them?”
“I never said that.” Cale nudged his foot before raising a brow. “And you like them.”
He couldn’t deny that. Something about the little pillars appealed to them, standing defiantly as though to protect their owners’ wishes. “But…you still don’t believe in gods.”
“Yeah, well…” Cale shrugged. “This isn’t a deal with a god. It’s a promise with you.” He reached down, interlacing their fingers. “If I can’t have expectations for my husband, then who can I have them for?”
4
In the midst of a festival, the capital was lively. Banners and lights strung across the streets, bathing even the alleys in a warm glow in the middle of the night. The crowded roads were alive with music and idle chatter. People bumped into one another as they flowed from booth to booth.
Not a single one gave a second look as Choi Han and Cale wandered hand in hand. It was nice to have no prying eyes on them for once, to just be, as they explored. Still, Choi Han couldn’t stop himself from glancing up at the rooftops every now and then. Experience had made him wary; a scene like this was the perfect time for an unexpected attack.
“None of that,” Cale warned, squeezing Choi Han’s hand.
“But—”
“We’re in the capital. All of our enemies have been dealt with, and…” Cale listed off as he lightly gripped Choi Han’s chin with his free hand, directing his attention back down. “Even at your most passive state, you’ll notice something is off long before it happens.”
Choi Han pursed his lips. True as it was, he still felt uneasy.
Cale sighed. “I’m not here with my bodyguard, but my husband.”
It was funny. He’d heard Cale use those two words countless times now, but they still held some sort of magical spell on him. My husband. Would there ever come a time when he tired of hearing it? Forcing himself to relax, Choi Han eased the tension in his shoulders. “I’ll try.”
“You’ll do it,” Cale corrected. He glanced at a stall as they passed. “This festival feels familiar.”
“…it does.” Choi Han stiffened as someone bumped into him before quickly relaxing once more. “It reminds me of our time in the desert.”
“The dark elf village.” Cale smiled, tapping his chin. “I bet Alver is behind this.”
“He did a good job.” One of the stalls had a vast array of pocket watches, each more intricately designed than the last. Choi Han picked up one with a lotus motif, admiring how the small inlaid glass shards looked like a pond. “It feels just like it.”
“Not quite.” Cale hummed as he ran his finger along the spine of a leather-bound book. “We should go there too.”
There? The desert? How long had it taken them before? Actually, how long should it take them normally? This time they wouldn’t have a dragon to conveniently fly them directly to the village.
“…how long is our honeymoon?”
“As long as I want.” Cale smirked, his expression coy. “After all that hard work, we’re allowed a long relaxing time off.”
5
“…are you sure you want to come?” Choi Han asked again, glancing nervously at Cale as their carriage pulled up to the outskirts of Harris Village.
Cale opened the door and exited the cabin. “Obviously. Why else am I here?”
“This isn’t really a ‘honeymoon’ spot,” Choi Han added, following him out. The second he spotted the perfectly lined gravestones, his breath was sucked out of him, grief sucker-punching him once more. It had been years since the massacre, but he felt it keenly all the same.
There were some things you couldn’t move on from. Not really, not ever.
“I know.” Quietly, Cale held Choi Han’s hand. “You have met my family. I have yet to meet yours.”
Choi Han gripped his hand tightly. “You’ve been here before.”
“Not as your husband.” Cale gently tugged him forward, guiding him to the first headstone with a neatly engraved name. “Who did you say this belonged to again? The old woman who gave you bread?”
1
Choi Han rarely slept peacefully.
That was the one thing Cale had learned when they’d first started dating. The lightest sound would jolt Choi Han awake, regardless of where they were or how safe it was. On the rare occasions he did manage to sleep deeply, a nightmare almost always had him in his grip.
It had taken months for him to relax, longer still for him to just sleep. And now…
Cale smirked as he propped his chin on his hand, studying the slumbering man beside him. Choi Han’s expression was unguarded, his breathing light. The odd snore escaped his lips. When he gently tousled his hair, Choi Han didn’t even frown.
It was strange. They had been married for months now, but it was only now that it sank in that they were married.
Choi Han was finally at peace.
“My husband,” Cale whispered, slipping back into Choi Han’s arms. He rested his head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. He’d never felt possessive before, but somehow this man had a way of making him feel all sorts of strange and new emotions. “Mine.”
As though answering him, Choi Han’s arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and Cale smiled as he drifted off to sleep.
A/N: For the Our Vow of Death ChoiCale Wedding zine! Thank you editors for helping me through this fic, I had ideas and the ideas didn’t all mesh together properly without some pruning XD Sometimes a story just comes to me and sometimes it’s a fight and this one was trying really hard to get into the fight category. Anyways. I wanted this to be a “after marriage, 5 ways their lives changed and the 1 way it didn’t” (and initially it was 5 times it hit them that they were married, which…didn’t carry through well but still is here). Also love trying to write names down and discovering there are 3 different versions of it (and ao3 now telling me I’m not using the fandom ones at least). Bear with it.
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1. Ron
“The staircase is over there.”
Choi Han froze at the kitchen door. It wasn’t like Ron’s presence surprised him—with that new metal arm of his, it was impossible for even a former assassin to be entirely silent. Though Ron did his best. There was something unnerving about the way he slipped out of the shadows, a teapot in his hand as though he had been in the kitchen innocently brewing tea this entire time.
Neither did Ron’s warning take him by surprise. Whenever Choi Han tried to enter Cale’s bedroom, whether it was by his door or by slipping in from the balcony, Cale’s servants were more than eager to thwart him. However, usually Ron would wait until he was at least scaling the wall before appearing.
This was the first time Ron had stopped him before he’d even left the house.
When Choi Han didn’t say anything, Ron drawled, “Sir.”
Somehow that title was even worse than Ron’s habit of suddenly appearing. Choi Han couldn’t entirely suppress his shudder. Perhaps in front of others, in front of Cale especially, Ron would begrudgingly treat him with respect. But alone? With no witness? Squaring his shoulders, Choi Han turned around and surreptitiously checked Ron’s hands for a dagger. When he didn’t find one, he glanced at the door again. It was only two steps away. If he was quick, he’d be gone before Ron could even catch up.
“Or do you need me to guide you there.” Ron continued. He smiled, all teeth. “Sir.”
There was that drawl again, that slight pitch of tone that laced each word with poison. Choi Han forced himself to remain still. Cautiously, like a wild animal wary of traps, he replied, “I know where the stairs are.”
“I see you finally found your voice.” Ron poured warm milk into a small ceramic mug and set it on a tray. “I suppose even a mutt can bark.”
Choi Han relaxed somewhat; these were the familiar insults. Did he want a fight? No, Ron was clearly bringing up a midnight snack for one of the Henituses. More importantly, it was past ten now and Cale was waiting. Hesitantly, he asked, “What do you want?”
“From you?” Ron scanned him slowly. Deliberately. His nose scrunched, his lips curling into a sneer as he found him wanting. “Nothing.”
Another lie. He couldn’t entirely hide his bloodlust, though he was far better at it than his son. Choi Han had known the man for several years and he was still impossible to understand. In the distance, he heard movement, an impatient Cale tapping his foot on the floor, and tried again to slip away. “Good.”
Before he could put his hand on the kitchen door, Ron cleared his throat.
Choi Han stared at him.
Ron clicked his teeth, unable to hide his contempt now. “The stairs. Or do strays only behave like wild animals?”
“What about them?” Choi Han snapped. Maybe he did have time for a fight after all. Cale would understand if he took another ten minutes.
“I can only hope your stupidity doesn’t rub off onto the pup.” Ron sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. He carefully placed a sugar pot onto the tray. “A person enters their bedroom by using the door.”
Choi Han snorted. If it were that easy, he wouldn’t have spent the past year sneaking in. Taking the proper route only ensured that Ron and his son would immediately know he was intending to enter—
His bedroom.
Choi Han glanced down at his hand, at the simple gold ring that adorned his finger. It had only been a few days. He hadn’t realized just what changes getting married had entailed; the wedding band still looked out of place on his hand.
Their bedroom.
That wasn’t just Cale’s room anymore. That wouldn’t be only Cale’s room ever again.
Choi Han tried not to smile, awkwardly turning to the stairs. “Right.”
2 Raon
“Human.” Raon tugged Cale’s sleeves with a disgruntled expression. When Cale didn’t respond fast enough, he growled, “Human.”
There were many ways a baby dragon was the same as a toddler: tantrums, demands for attention, a stubbornness that could rival a bull’s. Unlike a toddler, a dragon could do far more damage when ignored. Parenting was tough enough without worries that the child might burn down a city in retaliation.
Hiding his sigh, Cale set down his letter and turned to the dragon hovering next to his face. Judging by Raon’s pout, he was more sulky than angry. At least he didn’t have to worry about his study being set on fire. “Yes, Raon?”
Raon immediately lit up when he heard his name. Another way he was like a toddler: so easily appeased. Cale wasn’t sure if he should be worried about Raon’s teenage years or not; when they first met, he hadn’t planned to stick around long enough to find out. Clearing his throat, the young dragon tried to hide his happiness as he asked, “Why can’t I sleep with you anymore?”
Cale’s smile froze. When he had first laid down this new rule, the two cats had immediately understood, so he had thought Raon had too. Could it have been pure luck that Raon never visited any of the nights Choi Han used to slip into his bedroom when they were dating?
“Choi Han is strong, but I am stronger,” Raon continued, petulance seeping into his voice. His cheeks puffed as he stomped on the air. “You only need me!”
“That’s true, you’re the strongest,” Cale started, preemptively buttering Raon up. “Choi Han isn’t there for protection—”
Raon snorted. “Of course he isn’t. You keep getting hurt!” Raon snorted, his gaze flicking to Cale’s neck, then back to his eyes. “I can guard you better, human.”
Cale resisted the urge to touch the bruises on his neck. In a fit of passion, it had felt…good, even romantic, to order his husband to bite somewhere visible. He hadn’t considered invoking the overprotective dragon’s wrath, ready to all but raze the continent at the slightest provocation.
There had to be an easy way to explain this. Cale just hadn’t thought of it yet, but he would. He had to.
The truth wasn’t suitable. He wasn’t quite ready to be a wealthy widower.
“Cale,” Raon whined.
A rare use of his name. The doomsday clocked ticked closer to midnight.
3 Rosalyn
The carriage was ready, Rosalyn’s bags were packed, and there was nothing more to do: no villains to fight, no rescue missions to run, no plans to execute. The wedding had been the only thing keeping her in the kingdom and now it was time to go.
It had been a while since Choi Han had to say goodbye to someone with no plans of reuniting, longer still since it had been someone he’d miss. And he’d miss Rosalyn—he’d known her as long (if not longer) than Cale. Beside him, Lark’s shoulders drooped as the same thoughts filled him.
It was the end of an era.
“Don’t be like that—someone’d think I was dying instead of going home!” She ruffled Lark’s hair, smiling softly at the pair. “It’s not like we won’t see each other again.”
Choi Han forced a smile. Perhaps he should just be content with that, especially since he’d known far more permanent separations, some without even the comfort of a proper goodbye. At least they were still in the same world, both alive, both happy and safe. “Are you sure you don’t want us to escort you home?”
“Who do you think I am?” Rosalyn scoffed, crossing her arms as she raised a brow. “I doubt there’s many who can face me now.”
“Still…” Lark shifted uneasily, a small whine escaping his lips. “You never know.”
“It’ll be fine,” Rosalyn repeated, rolling her eyes. She pointed at Lark. “Your siblings are expecting you.” Turning to Choi Han, she smirked. “And you’re in your honeymoon phase. Even if I wanted it, I doubt Cale’ll just hand you over.”
Choi Han flushed but couldn’t deny it.
“I’ll make sure to write.” Rosalyn paused, a thought hitting her, and she cocked her head as she stared at Choi Han. “How should I address my letters?”
He stared back blankly, not sure what she meant. “How?”
“Your name.” Rosalyn chuckled. “Choi Henituse Han? Or is it still just Choi Han?”
His last name. Choi Han tried not to smile. They had discussed it before the wedding, and while he had considered doing nothing, he had liked the idea of taking Cale’s last name, of anchoring himself to both the man and this world more firmly.
A Henituse would always belong to this land, after all.
“…Henituse,” Choi Han mumbled, his skin burning at Rosalyn’s knowing smirk.
4 Alver
“You look,” Alver paused, his eyes glinting with mischief in the crystal ball as he considered his words, “pale.”
Cale bit his cheek. Alver wasn’t the first person to notice, nor would he be the last, but still Cale had hoped that his image on the crystal ball would have been too small for the crown prince to notice. “I always look pale,” he retorted.
“True,” Alver agreed with a smile as bright as the sun. He clearly wasn’t going to let this go until he heard what he wanted. “Yet, you still seem paler than usual.”
The last thing Cale needed was Alver to needle him on his sleeping habits. Or lack-of-sleeping habits. “…I have had trouble resting recently.”
Alver smirked. His tongue dripped with honey as he sympathized. “I can only imagine. Though usually, my vassals look healthier during their honeymoon.”
It was strange that last year, they wouldn’t have been discussing this. While Cale hadn’t exactly been hiding his relationship with Choi Han, he also hadn’t been open about it either. Yet now…everyone knew. Even Alver had found time to attend the ceremony.
Cale forced a smile. The only way to deal with Alver was to unnerve him back. “Your Highness, I am humbled that the most dazzling star in the kingdom cares so much for someone as insignificant as me.”
“Insignificant?” Alver’s shoulders shook from a silent laugh. Unfortunately, after knowing each other for so long, he’d long grown immune to Cale’s silver tongue. Composing himself, he spoke more seriously. “You wound me. Of course I care about you.”
That had been unfair of him. They’d come a long way from their first meeting, and while Cale couldn’t always say he enjoyed Alver’s company, even he had to admit they’d long been friends. “I know.”
“Good.” Alver’s smile returned. “You should come to the capital for a visit. I will prepare rooms.”
“Oh?” Now this was more familiar territory. Cale interlaced his fingers, resting his chin on them. “In exchange for?”
“Nothing,” Alver denied. His expression hadn’t changed but his eyes were bright as they ran through their familiar song and dance.
“Nothing?” Cale repeated, raising a brow.
“I have yet to give you a wedding gift.” Alver shrugged dismissively. “Consider this but a part of it.”
“How generous of you, Your Highness.” Cale pretended to consider the offer before shaking his head with a soft sigh. “Unfortunately, I am busy for the rest of the year. As you have noticed, I am on my honeymoon.”
Alver’s brow knit. He sighed. “…there is a conference in several months,” he admitted reluctantly. “It would be…beneficial if you were there.”
Cale could only imagine who it was beneficial for. On principle, he refused extra work, particularly when it only made him increasingly involved in the complications of politics. However, there was something about loving Choi Han that made it harder and harder to refuse requests, especially from his companions. Something about his husband’s earnestness was rubbing off on him, and he hadn’t decided if it was a good thing or not.
“If I’m done my honeymoon by then,” Cale said.
It wasn’t a yes, but Alver perked up nonetheless, seeing through him. “I will prepare our best suites.”
Cale snorted. “That much is obvious.”
5 Lark
Choi Han breathed in, breathed out. A strong pine scent flooded his senses, and he smiled. Even after all this time, Harris Village still smelled like home. It had been too long since he’d been back here.
Luckily, this was the first stop of their honeymoon.
Stretching his arms above him, he warmed up in preparation for his daily morning routine.
“Hyung! Want to spar?”
After Rosalyn’s departure, Lark had returned to the village along with his siblings. Now he eagerly bounded forward to join Choi Han in front of the Henituse manor. Despite his energy, he stood taller than before, prouder. More confident. He was no longer the boy he’d been when they’d first met.
“Sure, but,” Choi Han’s gaze shifted towards the nearby graveyard, “after.”
Following his eyes, Lark caught on quick. “After…? Oh, it’s been a while.”
“Too long. There’s a lot to catch them up on.”
“That’s an understatement.” Lark laughed. “And here I thought you were here for a honeymoon picnic.”
“Picnic?” Bemused, Choi Han struggled to maintain a straight face. Just what had Lark’s imagination got up to this time?
Scratching the back of his head, Lark admitted in a mixture of confusion and embarrassment, “Well, I saw all that food you brought…I thought Vicross was preparing to feed an army! But Cale told me it was something he’d requested.”
Food? Choi Han’s brow furrowed in confusion. Faintly, he recalled spotting several baskets amongst their luggage, filled with fruit and wine. There had been far more than either of them would ever need. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time; Cale had made most of their travel plans and he’d been more than content to follow.
Yet…now he recalled what Cale had asked while planning: “Shall we greet the villagers together?”
He hadn’t meant it literally. No, he had meant it traditionally—specifically, in the Korean way. Showing respect for, honouring, one another through social acknowledgements.
Cale had planned to visit the graves together from the start. Not the way the people here did, with their bouquets and laurels, with their black clothes and solemn stares. No, he’d intended to do it in a way only the two of them would ever understand, with the rituals only the two of them knew.
‘Sweeping the tomb’ was something he never considered doing in this world. Yet Cale…
From the start, he’d always surprised Choi Han. Even after marriage, it didn’t seem like that would stop. A rush of warmth flooded Choi Han, leaving him breathless, his eyes wet.
“Hyung? What’s going on?” Lark asked, puzzled by Choi Han’s long silence.
He had to tear his eyes away from the second-story window, curtain fluttering in the morning breeze. Behind it, he knew his husband was sound asleep. With a soft smile, Choi Han explained, “Nothing. I just…remembered something from my homeland. What were we—oh. Sparring. We can do it later.”
If he was going to formally honour the family he’d lost in this world, he didn’t want to be covered in sweat and dirt. There was too much to do to prepare.
“Huh? But it’s only nine o’clock…” Lark called out, but Choi Han had already marched toward the manor, leaving him behind. Staring at his friend’s shrinking back, he mumbled, “Cale’ll sleep until at least noon…and picnics take a while…won’t it be midnight before we spar?”
6 Choi Han and Cale
Choi Han and Cale had been married for several months now, dating for even longer, and were many weeks into a very public honeymoon. Yet, as they walked down the streets of a small port town, no one would be able to tell by Choi Han’s antsiness.
There was a small distance between them, a gap far larger than Cale liked. And judging by Choi Han’s constant glances, he didn’t like it either. Was he trying to be subtle? If so, he was doing a terrible job at it.
When Choi Han peeked for the n-th time, Cale sighed. If he didn’t say anything, neither of them would enjoy the street vendors. Which would be a shame, since that was the main draw of this town. Clearing his throat, Cale asked, “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing,” Choi Han replied immediately. When Cale raised a brow, he flinched. He bit his lip. “Is…”
“Is?” Cale prodded.
“Is this fine?” he asked, as he shyly grabbed Cale’s hand. His eyes met Cale’s briefly before he averted his gaze.
About damn time. Cale snorted, interlacing their fingers. He watched as his husband’s ears turned a fetching shade of red. They had gone far beyond kissing; he could even see the edge of a hickey over Cho Han’s turtleneck. His own back ached from last night’s activities.
Yet, despite that, Choi Han always grew flustered at any public displays of affection. Would anyone believe they were married? His husband acted more like a schoolboy with his first crush than a married man.
It was troubling.
If he went at Choi Han’s pace, they wouldn’t even be dating by now. “You should have done that from the start.”
“Right.” Choi Han nodded earnestly as he squeezed Cale’s hands. “Next time.”
“Every time,” Cale corrected, lifting their interlaced hands. Keeping his eyes locked on Choi Han’s, he pressed a kiss on his skin, watching as he flushed endearingly.
No, the real trouble was that Cale liked it. Wanted more of it. Regardless of how their relationship had changed over the years and since their marriage, this was a constant.
“Now, we still have to procure my siblings’ souvenirs,” Cale said, pausing as he glanced at Choi Han. “Our siblings. Would you like to pick?”
Choi Han’s bright smile was the only answer he needed.
