What’s it Like Having Mornings with Them — gen 1 kings.
I find them frankly underrated and let’s say I have some favoritism.
Characters listed: gongseob ji, taesoo ma, changsu oh, jichang kwak
GONGSEOB JI — sneaking around like teenagers.
The wind blows gently outside of the temple walls, the fog evident from the mountaintop, the smell of incense and a particular expensive cologne that shouldn’t be in a Buddhist temple stir you awake.
Large hands envelopes your sides, heavy arm over your torso as he tugs you closer, his face strangely and peculiarly imbedded in your neck to be convinced that he’s just ‘sleeping’; that fake monk seems to enjoy pretending because every time you try to move away or try to gain a semblance of space he seems to hold onto you tighter, and you feel a particular huff on your neck that is closer to something of amusement than some sleepy grumble.
“Gongseob,” you mutter his name softly, voice still thick and heavy from exhaustion, dry as it is in the morning, yet despite it he didn’t bother to move. Staying still like a statue. You tap his arm lightly, no movement.
How aggravating, he has a certain knack and talent for that doesn’t he?
You try again, whispering his name to deaf ears, tapping his arm harder, to eventually hitting him. It earned a much fake cry of pain, extremely fake, as if you’re dumb enough to be convinced that someone like him where whispers of being some ‘Iron Fortress’ can’t withstand a hit or two. “Mm… good morning,” he smiles, that infuriatingly goofy and cute one, he looks like a satisfied cat if you thought about it in your hazy morning, blurry eyes, and the dim room, “That hurt, can you make it up to me?” He leans in even more, suffocating you from his hold that despite being ‘woken up’ has you still tightly in his arms, “You’re suffocating me bastard.” You wheezed out, slapping onto his shoulder before he lets you go with a chuckle, his hand still refusing to let you go.
“You’re so mean to me every morning, you’re not a morning person hm?” He hums, “If I spend every morning with you I don’t see why I should be.” he fakes a pout, his lips found your cheek, then to your much lidded eyes that are having trouble keeping themselves open, “Ouch. Can I get a kiss for all this cruelty?” You grumble in reply to his words, pinching his cheeks hard enough that it actually earned a proper cry of pain, a whisper onto the quiet temple walls, “In your dreams,” you mutter as you get up, “Is that so? Well I suppose we can sleep some more.”
He certainly has a way to keep you in your damn toes if he startles you awake by pulling you back into bed, “Gongseob,” your voice is more strained with annoyance, “I have to go,” he hums, completely ignoring your concern, “You fake monk— you really don’t care about getting caught huh?” he hummed some more; maybe learning boxing isn’t so bad if you get to hit this damn monk beside you that’s too pleased of his own mischief.
He taps your nose lightly, “You worry too much, it’s not like one of the other monks would do some rounds and find us,” you roll your eyes at his words, the urge of arguing is strong but also is staying in the nice warm embrace of his arms when the chilly air of the morning gives you a little shiver — fine. You’ll indulge him.
Then footsteps echo outside, some murmuring, then a knock on the temple door loud enough to make both of you scurry — you in particular hiding away while he pretends he’s getting ready for the morning.
He greets his fellow monk — a stretch really, he’s not much of a monk. His false pretenses of chatting and conversing, some fake promises and of course the questions about the stolen donations if he knew anything about it… he shrugs it off, muttering another lie through his teeth, a smile too bright for the morning on his lips as he bids his much very real monk counterpart farewell with a wave.
A few seconds passed, the heavy silence that hangs in the room evident, then the sound of the door being closed and then his much stiff body you manage to take a peak from the place you hid, he barely moved aside from his quiet breathing. Then he finally faces your direction to urge you from the spot you hid, “Close call, isn’t it?” He jokes, earning a much deserved slap on his shoulder, “This is your fault.” He chuckles softly, “Fine, fine, let’s sneak you out why don’t we?” He leans in to steal one more kiss, crazy bastard.
TAESOO MA — ash and soot; campfire cozy.
Cinder and charcoal still smell so strongly even as the night passed, the croak of a new day as the rustle of the trees doesn’t seem to bother you, nor hinder you in your much sleepy daze as a particular warmth engulfs you, and soft snoring reminding you of the much lovely evening of his much carnivorous diet.
He was insistent on taking you camping often, even if it was terribly cold at night, or staying in a tent, even if you’re half convinced there’s a dinosaur out in those woods and he’s too meat-hungry to be afraid or simply don’t care because he’s a ‘King’ or whatever.
He only managed to convince you because of the promise of sweet everything’s and perhaps some s’mores on the side of his unusual meat delicacy being roasted over the fire, you swear you can taste snake meat on your marshmallow but he says it’s all in your head, yeah right. But of course he can kiss those thoughts away, hold you close under the stars, and make you not mind camping all over again.
It really wasn’t bad, especially when he can make you laugh and escape the buzz of the world, hold your hand close to his chest and tell you stories, or maybe how he lets you play with his hair, or the soft moments of the night that seeps in the morning filled with that comfortable warmth of his arms around you, his breathing steady against your neck. The tent barely could be any sort of insulation from the still cold weather of dawn — what even made you wake up so early?
You’re comfortable in the man of your dreams, arguably. A respectful, fine-looking, rich man who is tall and owns the very ground you and he is sleeping with, you mean… what else is there really? Then you hear a rustle.
It was faint, almost imperceptible, then another follows it, you try to peek over the large man behind you who’s still sleeping soundly to even move and make any sort of noise, you seriously debated if you should wake your man or if you should just swallow down the fear and check it yourself.
Of course pride took over first, he looks too peaceful sleeping, who could blame you?
So with your wits and bearings you crawled over to the tent’s entrance, fingers trembling as you start to unzip slowly, making every possible horrible thing you’ll see the moment you peaked at the small opening you’ve made, just a small crack that you barely can see anything as the sun was just rising. Then you tried to open it a bit more, gently, and slowly, as if making too much noise might alert whatever is out there, your own breathing too loud for you to the point that you had to put a hand over your mouth — yet, despite your best efforts you still see nothing.
Maybe you were hearing things!
Then another rustle came outside. Much closer, nearer, and undoubtedly loud.
You had to stare back to the sleeping man behind you who is still, of course, sleeping. Earning a shaky sigh from you as you try to see anymore movement outside, you can quickly crawl to him for safety right? Right. Probably.
You unzipped more of the tent, trying to find what could possibly be outside, a bear? A wolf? You pray it’s a deer, you hope for all you can it’s not a snake — maybe no spiders too. Maybe if it is a spider you pray it’s at least the big ones where you can spot it instead of the creepy crawling tiny ones where it disappears if you look away — actually none of those options sound appealing.
You took in a deep breath as there’s a larger opening, one where you can easily see out of it this time, so with both fear and perhaps a bit of curiosity makes you take a peak outside to spot —- …
You were so scared for what? A tiny little thing? You breathed out a sigh of relief, hand to your chest as you fully take down the tent’s zipped doors with carefulness to not startle the little thing, you try to get a better view of it; hand fumbling beside you trying to find your phone, “Boo,” a whisper on the very shell of your ear startled not only you but the cute bunny hopping away from fear, a hearty lazy chuckle escaped him as you are rightfully annoyed at him, “Did I startle you?” His arms wrap around your torso to pull you in to the more warmer parts of the tent, a smile on his lips as he peers down above you, “You startled that rabbit!” you jabbed a finger at his face, “I s’posse so,” he shrugs casually, kissing your forehead, “I think I startled two though,” he hums, earning an inquisitive stare from you, brows furrowed as realization sinks on what he meant, “You!—“ you bit your tongue, “I was supposed to take a picture.” a pout was on your lips, earning a chuckle from him, pinching your cheek as he does, in which you retaliate by poking at the corner of his lips grinning at you, a grin you look longingly at, “I thought we both agreed on no phones?” you rolled your eyes at his words, now pinching his cheek, his stubble against your knuckles, “Where’s my phone anyways?” he hums, pretending to think.
“Taesoo…” you muttered his name in warning, in which he of course can’t help but laugh playfully at, he grabs something behind him to wave in front of you. Of course he hid it. “You’re one evil man, you know?” he hummed at the idea, “How about you open your phone,” you raise a brow at his words, jumping from his embrace as you quickly unlock your phone, eyes wide as you at your phone then at him, then back at your phone; a photo of a particular rabbit in multiple angles, some obscure but undoubtedly taken by a certain man while he was pretending to be asleep — you don’t have to catch the fact that he took some photos (and perhaps videos) of your hair all tousled up and looking like a mess.
You happily return to his arms, peppering his face in kisses, “Thank you Taesoo,” you say in between a kiss to his cheek, “You’re the best,” you kiss him again, “You’re never evil,” another kiss, “Mm… you don’t mind it’s not a proper photo?” he asks, face in your hands as you debate about his words, thinking about it, “I know you can grab me more, right?” your question sounds so cute and innocent but your smile tells him differently. A sigh left his lips, a weary, indulgent sigh. He smiles, “Of course.”
CHANGSU OH — domestic lazy mornings.
Sheets rustle, a squeak, then a groan escaped under the sheets of a much cramped bed.
Despite the size of the bed it’s not really useful when the little girl refuses to let go of her parents’ shirts and tightly trying to keep both of them in bed with her, hugging her designer bag tightly as well despite the cold metal clasps seem to startle her poor father awake every few minutes each time she stirs, the thin tank top of his is a regrettable choice for him to wear to sleep this time around. He should’ve known better. That’s his fault.
But why is his dear daughter leaving the bag against his chest when she happily sleeps tucked between your arms? This is obvious favoritism! His dear daughter who looks and acts like him, a 1:1 copy down to every single detail prefers you over him!— oh. Well. That makes sense, who does he kid. He also would prefer you over himself.
A sigh left his lips, then a soft chuckle. Stirring you awake as you try to rub your eyes without the sweet girl in your arms be disturbed in her quite affectionate sleep of holding onto your shirt tightly, “Good morning,” you greet him with a smile, the soft glow of the morning behind you, the sun hitting every curve and dip of your cheek to your face to the red of your ears, to the wisps of your hair to it being tousled, his eyes linger on the way your smile wrinkles slightly, the peak at your teeth, and for a moment he appreciates that.
He takes in every single detail, his own longing and joy, the rare moment of waking up with you, not before you, or after you, but in a manner where both of you are awake in bed, early enough to see the sun hit each other’s faces despite the curtains shutting the supposed sun — yet fate is funny, making sure his breathing stills, his own distraction, his own hazy lucid dream greeting him in the morning with a soft, ‘good morning’.
“Changsu?” you called out his name in worry, bringing him back to his reality — a better version of his dream, where your hand is on his face, where he can nuzzle and smell you — faint as it was. Breathing in the reality of your warmth against his, his eyes shut for a moment to appreciate this for a little longer, his own escape of reality, before opening them to meet yours. His eyes linger on your face, the worried pout, how you would’ve probably hover over him if Chunhee wasn’t between your arms sleeping soundly, how pretty you are in the mornings; he’s fortunate to wake up and see you first thing in the morning.
His own joy, his peace, his world.
Everything stops the moment he wakes up to you; “Good morning sweetheart,” a pet name already escapes his lips, with too much endearment and affection that it was dripping with infatuation and sweetness, his eyes already filled with that mischief and love that you have to shake your head at his own ridiculousness.
“Did you sleep well?” he whispered, a rhetorical question clearly with how you glow, “Mm… you?” you whispered back, watching his expression turn crestfallen with that signature frown of his on his lips, “Whad’ya think?” you snicker, already spotting the reason of his tiny bags under his eyes, his hair more of a mess than yours, the small pits of white peaking through the ink convinces you that maybe he sprouted more grey hairs while he’s asleep, “I told you to change,” you hum, earning a groan from him, Chunhee was grumbling in between the two of you as you stare at each other at the dimly lit room, the sun peaking under the curtains as your yawn escapes first then his follows, “And I told you… you should’ve hugged little Chunhee and I’d hug you both…” he murmurs in defense, annoying you first thing in the morning earning the roll of your eyes, his mouth already starting bright and early, “I slept quite soundly, thank you very much.” you huffed.
He chuckles, stirring the sweet girl in your arms as you quickly shush him, “Shushing me? Hm?” He leans in, uncaring for the cold bag that seeps through his shirt, his nose brushes against yours, lips inching away, “So feisty in the morning,” he whispered, lidded eyes heavy as a lazy smirk is on his lips, “So noisy in the morning.” you argued back this time, gaining a grin from him, he presses your faces closer, tilting his head slightly to have a quick peck on your lips, maybe more than a peck.
Angrily hitting his chest as a hand was placed on his lips, toddler nails scratching him as he pulls away from the delight of your lips, “Baba! Baba!” she screamed loudly, a ring on both of your ears at her anger as she keeps pushing his face away from you, hand clasped on his mouth, “Baba you’re so noisy.” He was in disbelief.
His own daughter? Chastising him?
Now the love of his life is laughing at him, holding his daughter, hugging her from behind as you look up at him in pure amusement, a sneaky little glint in your eyes as you lean down and press a kiss on the fat of your daughter’s cheek, “Chunhee~” you cooed at her name, “Is baba too noisy?“ she nods her head furiously, a big angry pout on her lips, cheeks puffed, “Do we want to kick him off the bed?” she nods even more.
Two of the people he loves with his entire heart? Going against him?
Both of you are so mean to him!
He throws the bag somewhere else, much to the cry of his evil daughter who is mean to him, choosing sides, arguably the wrong side. He pulls you in, a fake pout on his lips as he has his very much cruel daughter in between the both of you be suffocated in both of your embrace as he leans down, his lips jutted out, “Can I get a kiss for my booboo?” he tries to act cute, especially the angry fists of his daughter hitting him in the chest and the angry screams of ‘baba!’ erupts between the two of you.
You tap your lips, pretending to think about it, then you sit up, still tapping your lips as you hum in thought.
“Hm…” you leaned in, much to his excitement, and much to his daughter’s dismay as his hand covers her eyes.
Your breath fanning over his, your lips so close he could taste it, he had to fight back having his head lean in to catch your lips already since he’s smirking like a damn fool, all ‘hurt’ pretenses is gone. Then you kicked him off the bed, arms holding Chunhee as both of you giggled.
A prominent thud echoed through the room as he tries to climb up the bed, both of his light all huddled up together under the sheets, giggling still as you lightly poke Chunhee’s nose, he had to shake his head with a sigh.
“My, my, how cruel and sly.” he had to murmur to himself, “Both of my darlings conspired against me.”
He hums, crawling over the bed much to your stare and questioning before a yelp escaped both you and Chunhee’s lips as he lays down on top of both of you, a chuckle left his lips as he suffocates you both with his weight, much to your’s and his daughter’s frustration he’s unmoving. Endurance mastery being of help again as he smiles onto the sheets as he keeps getting hit by both of you.
These mornings he has, boring and cheesy… he’ll never have it any other way.
JICHANG KWAK — warmth under the sheets.
The warm rays of the sun hits your skin, dancing against it as you adjusted yourself from your bed, the sheets rustle and tousled, your hair in its own mess as you look around for a moment. Your eyes already well-adjusted, you feel wide awake, and the most insane part is that you still crave to stay in bed all the while full of energy.
Where did this even come from? You were on your elbows as you look beside you — ah.
Jichang. That snake-eyed man is sleeping peacefully beside you, still in his dress shirt that he barely managed to unbutton, your mind is slightly still foggy but you recall him being as sweet as pie last night.
You don’t really remember all the fine details but he definitely aided you in your restlessness, it seems in the expense of his own rest. That sweet mane he acts oh so mature for a person who should just be graduating his college years, how did he already become police? You sigh as you shake your head.
You look at his unkempt hair, the way the sun just hits his nose and lips, somehow even the celestial body refuses to disturb the peaceful man in his own slumber. The ray of light twists and bends against his cheekbones and cheek, dipping itself on his jaw, the disappearing onto the pillow under him. You hum in amusement as you fix his hair slightly.
Fingers gently moving the hair away from his face, his glasses seem to be beside his pillow, how careless of him.
That’s rare behavior, did he worry so much about your own wellbeing that he put too much effort on your own exhaustion than his? Such a saint of a man. You fix his hair a bit more, just before you place his glasses in a more secure area, like the bedside table beside him where you have to hover over him — a dangerous mission.
You breathed in, shaky breath as you try to reach the table without disturbing his side of the bed all too much, and when rationality and common sense hit you to put the glasses on your side of the bed well… you’re already far too gone. Far gone enough that you didn’t even realize he’s awake, so focused and distracted to even notice how his arms wrapped around you before you can deliver the glasses to their destination safely, you hear it clatter somewhere but you don’t know — well, how can you? You’re right under him.
His stare was less of familiarity but something similar to habit, his breathing heavy before it turns soft, a sigh escaping his lips then as quickly follows it is his face buried in your neck. His arms finding itself snug against you, his embrace borderline suffocating as he practically imprisons you — your crime? Well you have a rough idea on what.
“Already awake?” He murmurs against your neck, his voice laced with its own heavy exhaustion, “Mm… it looks about…eight? Eight in the morning?” You tilt your head to face his, hand against his cheek, “What about eight in the morning?” He tries to make a conversation and entertaining you still despite the current situation, huh? How sweet of him.
You try to face him properly, but with how tight his hold is he refuses to let you go, how both frustrating but childish of him, it was cute how he doesn’t want to separate from you, even by a minuscule to maybe… you don’t know, breathe. “Don’t you have work today?” you asked, yet the only response you received was his mumbles and muttering, his breathing steady against your neck as both of you stay there for a while.
He tilts his head after a few moments, his lips against your ear, “A break is needed sometimes,” he whispered softly, “Would you listen to me if I also didn’t take a break when I demand it from you last night?” He chuckles, but you shrugged him off, “I don’t know~…” you drawl out your words to tease him, “Maybe it’s my way to get you to take a break.” he scoffed at your words, kissing your cheek, “Mm… too bad, I guess I’ll keep you confined in my arms,” he laughs at your own sounds of protest.
“You snake!” you immediately accused out of him, jutting your finger in his direction, which he merely hums in agreement, “I’m the White Snake of Chungcheong after all…” he brushes your words off so easily, as if your bluff is nothing but a bluff — it was! Could he not indulge your on the spot creative thinking of getting him to take a break? You huff, “How’s work?”
The only reply you received is silence.
You grumbled in annoyance but not long after, “Horrible, go to sleep.” He demands, “Can’t, wide awake.” A sigh left his lips, pulling you away for a moment to grab something from the drawer, then a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “Are you sure you are wide awake?” You kissed him back, right on the nose, “Mhm,” despite the annoyance in his next sigh he looks quite pleased, “Read to me and stay here,” he passes the book to you, your own surprise as he lets you sit up but never truly escape his clasps, he’s laying on top of you practically as you flip open the book to its first page, as the first few words slip past your lips the man on your lap is already fast asleep.
Your words turn soft, a whisper into the air before you let the silence hang as you watch him sleep comfortably; you pull the sheets over him.
White Snake of Chungcheong… a fitting name for someone who chases your own body heat, his fingers always freezing, yet here he is on your lap stealing every part of your body heat and trying to make it his.
You play with his hair with one hand, his head subconsciously crooning against your touch, a smile on your lips as it’s your turn to sigh — a sigh of content as you flip the next page, mornings like these is rare.
And you’ll appreciate every second of it.
The mornings you wish you and him have forever.
Craving content for characters that have collectively 100 chapters must be a curse placed upon the world. A big sorry to Gongseob for having the shortest and Jichang for being rushed, I miss all four of them collectively.
This is not beta read, if it wasn’t obvious. I hope you all enjoyed reading this🐦⬛
