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The grand conference had been a resounding success, or at least that's what the king kept telling himself as he exited the banquet hall. He had spent hours charming diplomats, delivering speeches, and smiling for countless photos. But as the night dragged on, something far less charming had started to build behind his temples: a throbbing migraine that felt like it was trying to hammer its way out of his skull.
By the time Gon and Yeong reached the hotel where they were staying for the night, the King of Corea was in no mood to do anything but collapse into the nearest bed. His normally impeccable posture had slumped, and the frown on his face was deep enough to make anyone who knew him well take a wide berth.
Anyone, that is, except for Jo Yeong.
Yeong, ever the diligent bodyguard, noticed the way Gon was rubbing his temples as soon as they entered their suite. The suite was, of course, luxurious—plush carpets, soft lighting, and a bed that looked like it could swallow a person whole. Always the best of the best for the king. But all Gon could see was the pain behind his eyes.
"You look terrible," Yeong observed bluntly as he set down their bags.
Gon shot him a half-hearted glare, though it was more of a wince. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."
"Are you going to try and sleep it off?" Yeong asked, already moving toward the mini bar in the corner of the room. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he figured water was a good start. He knew Gon wouldn't want alcohol, especially not in his current state.
"Yes, and preferably before my head explodes," Gon muttered, slipping off his jacket and dropping it onto the nearest chair. He didn’t even bother with the buttons on his shirt, instead tugging it loose as he shuffled toward the bed.
Yeong grabbed a bottle of water and followed him. "Here, drink this."
Gon took the bottle and tried to twist the cap off, but his hands were trembling too much to get a good grip. With an exaggerated sigh of frustration, he handed it back to Yeong.
Yeong took the bottle, easily unscrewing the cap and handing it back with a smirk. "You should’ve let me handle the speeches too. You’re clearly in no shape to do anything tonight."
"Keep talking and I’ll find something to throw at you," Gon muttered darkly, though the effect was ruined by the way he immediately slumped down onto the bed, burying his face in the pillows.
Yeong chuckled softly, shaking his head. He wasn’t used to seeing Gon so out of sorts, but it was kind of endearing in a way. It made him seem more human, more like the Lee Gon that only a few people ever really got to see. Yeong felt lucky to be part of the small group that go to see the real Lee Gon, not only the King of Corea. But it sucked to see him in pain.
After a few moments, Yeong retrieved some painkillers from his travel kit, knowing full well that Gon wouldn’t ask for them but would definitely need them. He approached the bed, sitting on the edge as he shook two pills into his hand.
"Here, take these," Yeong said, his voice softer now.
Gon didn’t even lift his head. "I’ll take them in the morning," came the muffled reply from the depths of the pillow.
Yeong rolled his eyes. "You’ll take them now, unless you want to spend the entire night feeling like someone’s drilling into your skull,” the last thing the young man wanted was to spend with a man who would probably complain and moan in pain all night long and make him. Don’t get him wrong, Yeong loved his stupidly handsome boyfriend but he was a pain to deal with most of the time sometimes.
There was a beat of silence, and then Gon slowly lifted his head just enough to eye the pills in Yeong’s hand. With a long-suffering sigh, he reached out and took them, washing them down with the water.
"Thanks," Gon mumbled, sounding slightly less grumpy now that he had taken the medicine.
Yeong nodded, setting the water bottle aside. "You should try to sleep. I’ll keep the room quiet."
As Gon settled back into the pillows, Yeong got up and started to dim the lights. He moved around the room with quiet efficiency, checking that the doors were locked, the curtains were drawn, and that everything was secure. When he was satisfied, he returned to the bedside and hesitated for a moment before reaching out to smooth a stray lock of hair away from Gon’s forehead.
"Get some rest," Yeong said softly, his hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled back.
Gon, who was already half-asleep, managed a small smile. "You’re too good to me, Yeong."
Yeong snorted quietly. "Someone has to keep you in line."
Gon didn’t respond, already drifting off to sleep, the painkillers doing their job.
Yeong watched him for a moment, his expression softening. There was something undeniably peaceful about seeing Gon like this, unburdened and at ease. It made Yeong’s heart swell with a quiet warmth that he rarely allowed himself to feel.
With one last glance at the now-sleeping king, Yeong moved to the armchair by the window, settling in for the night. He wouldn’t leave Gon’s side, not even for a second. The migraine would pass, and in the morning, Gon would be back to his usual self—composed, regal, and probably a little bit grouchy until he had his coffee.
But for now, in the quiet of the night, they could both rest. And that was enough.