Chapter Text
Jeonghan stole frequent glances at the man before him, scanning him up and down.
He was trying to explain something but the next time he tried to listen, he realized that he had been zoning out and plainly staring. He just could not, for the life of him, understand the attraction that he instantly felt the moment he laid eyes on the famed young historian. This has been their fourth meeting so far and could barely focus on his own work because he could just not stop looking. For years, he thought he was just the type of person who doesn't get attracted to anyone and he enjoyed that. While his friends agonized over their relationships—how to present themselves to the people they're attracted to, how to impress them, pining, the pain of one-sided attractions, breakups—those were things that he never had to worry about.
He knew what the concept was, it had been explained to him. But feeling it for someone he had only known for about a month, communicated for less, and seen for even less, was something that he recognized but not completely comprehend. "Jeonghan, are you listening?" He turned to him, but all he could register were his long lashes and annoyingly perfect skin. In contrast to his pale complexion which was even paled by his lightened hair, Seungcheol had a pink tint underneath and it made him look like he was literally glowing. If that was part of what you see when you're attracted to someone, he wasn't really sure.
"I'm really sorry, sir," he shook his head to clear it, as if that was going to help.
Seungcheol groaned. "I'm not forty, we're the same age, please don't call me sir."
When he smiled, the pinkish tint underneath his skin was pushed up against his skin and Jeonghan felt himself drift again as he watched his skin turn redder. "But you're my senior..."
"Please, I don't mind," he insisted.
Choi Seungcheol, at twenty-nine years old, was already one of the most celebrated historians in the country. He jumped so many grades and finished his Masters Degree at twenty-three, and for his PhD dissertation, he managed to invite a Korean-American Archaeologist to inspect and dig a little at an old noble family's residence and found so much information. His main findings included poems, buried pottery, wood-carvings, and unsent letters all traced to Prince Consort Yoon, father of Great Queen Nari. More historical writings made by multiple family attendants were also unearthed, all discovered within soy jars buried underneath the main residence, as if they were intentionally hidden.
Before then, all historical texts focused on his daughter who grew up to become history's most beloved royal. She had always been known as intelligent, compassionate, beautiful, kind, just, and immensely talented who was seen as the King's main adviser who saved them all during the Great Famine. Many point to her upbringing as the main source of her benevolence but little information was available of her mother, Princess Sunbin, and even less was known of her father, Prince Consort Yoon. All that was available about him was that he was the son of the Minister of Justice who then became Prime Minister upon his marriage to the Princess. He was known for representing the King for distant travels and interacting directly with the poor, a little bit about his childhood was known but aside from those, nothing else. His research, therefore, opened an entire part of Queen Nari's background and upbringing and stirred up the entire academe.
Jeonghan remembered that. Seungcheol had been so ahead of everyone else that he had only been in his undergrad when this happened even though they were the same age. Now that Jeonghan was a History PhD candidate himself whose research revolved around the reign of King Goon and Queen Nari, and he was rumored to be back from teaching in Columbia, Jeonghan grabbed the chance.
"I'm sorry," he scratched his nape awkwardly, uncharacteristically shy. "I'm a little sleep deprived, I'm wasting your time."
"No, it's fine," he whispered and leaned closer to Jeonghan.
Sure, because that was supposed to help him focus more.
He brought the large family tree that was printed in an A0 sized paper. "Let me start again," he breathed to resume speaking but he paused to consider something. "Or would you like to take a nap first, or eat?"
"No need," he shook his head. "I'm going to pay attention this time, I promise."
"If you're sure..." he sighed. He refocused on the family tree. "Here's Queen Nari, then her parents, Princess Sunbin and Prince Consort Yoon. You said you were going to focus on her upbringing?"
"Yeah."
"I think you should focus on her father's side then, he was the one who raised her. Princess Sunbin lived in the palace."
"Yeah, that's exactly why I reached out to you," he frowned. "I knew that I had to focus on Prince Consort Yoon but you're the only one who has actual in-depth research about him. Most of your work isn't available in the university archives and your books are too expensive." He smiled at him sheepishly.
"And you thought reaching out to me would be easier?" He didn't mean it negatively, Jeonghan saw by the smile playing on his lips.
"My thesis adviser said you were approachable if I just tried."
"Well," he shrugged. He was plenty approachable. "I like sharing my research but a lot of Professors like to snub it for now." He heard about it. It was common in the academe. Someone this young, discovering something this big, not everyone would take it in a stride. He received a lot of criticisms and a lot of people questioned his research, especially regarding Prince Consort Yoon's background. They preferred a different interpretation of the poems and the journals but Seungcheol insisted on his own interpretation. Jeonghan read excerpts of letters Prince Consort Yoon intended to send to a painter only known as Master Choi, paired with his poems and journal entries regarding their walks in the rapeseed fields during afternoons, bathing together, sleeping beside each other, and his utter heartbreak when they were separated... if those two weren't in love with each other then he'd shave his head.
"They're all stupid," Jeonghan grumbled, which made Seungcheol giggle. "They sit at the same table as the writers of Troy who made Patroclus and Achilles cousins."
Seungcheol kept giggling which made Jeonghan less annoyed. "It wasn't even completely old language," Seungcheol supplied. "He literally said 'he is my air and I haven't been breathing since the sea took him away' and they wanted me to interpret that as deep friendship? That would be a disservice to history if we refuse to see, right?"
"Exactly!" Jeonghan barely even noticed that he had been leaning in close until they were shoulder to shoulder.
"You're either a kiss-ass or you just get me," Seungcheol muttered.
"Maybe a little bit of both?" he tilted his head towards him.
Seungcheol stared back. After a while, he blinked and stared back at the family tree. "I can only discuss up to the family tree right now since I have a class in a few hours. But I can meet you for coffee tomorrow..? If you can?"
"I am available..." he muttered absent-mindedly, just appreciating how pretty he was. "For coffee, I mean, not in general."
Seungcheol seemed taken-aback. "You're not?"
What is he trying to ask? Is he trying to ask if Jeonghan was single?
"I mean... uhh... for coffee and tomorrow I am."
"But... in general?"
If he assumes that this was dating-related he is surely going to make a fool of himself. Oh god, this is what Soonyoung meant about his struggles of trying to seem normal in front of someone who makes his insides churn and do things. Play it safe, Jeonghan, play it safe.
"All around...available. Everything about me… available." Nice save.
Seungcheol nods thoughtfully, biting his lip. "Okay, good."
Okay, good? OKAY, GOOD? Oh, he's going to think about this all night.
"So, uhh," Seungcheol tried to go back to what they were talking about.
"Prince Consort Yoon, or, as we've discussed the first time to break the ice, has the exact name as you do, Yoon Jeonghan. Was born as the older child of Minister Yoon Gyosun, Minister of Justice then Prime Minister, and Lady Yi Injung of the Gyeonggi Yi clan. His younger sister Yoon Nari died at the age of fourteen due to an alleged suicide through jumping off a seaside cliff. She was betrothed to the then Crown Prince. When she was alive, Prince Consort Yoon was isolatedly studying in the Gyeonggi mountains and was taught by Buddhist monks. But then after the death of his sister, his father continued his political ambition and remained interested in marrying into the royal family so he was pulled out of the temple and brought back into the noble household." Seungcheol explained in a deep, calm tone. This much, Jeonghan knew. He also knew some details about his refusal and rebellion through insisting on covering up half of his face, which Seungcheol continued to discuss.
Before Seungcheol did his research, information on Prince Consort Yoon skipped from here to his time in the Imperial Capital.
"There's no available information for about seven to ten years of his life, and I always believed it was crucial," Seungcheol scrunched his forehead in thought. "His medical records showed that he was very healthy when he started living alone but right before he married Princess Sunbin, he developed sleep problems and was often said to have a lot of nightmares. His general melancholy, according to Queen Nari's accounts, made her often unsure if she was causing his pain."
Jeonghan considered that on a psychological standpoint. "Do you think she acted perfectly because she wanted to make him happy, or was he just so good at raising her?" Jeonghan pursed his lips. "Or both?"
"I'd go with both."
Seungcheol seemed to have suddenly gotten an idea and pulled out a big notebook from his bag and flipped it quickly. Unfortunately, right then and there, the warning bell for quarter to three rang throughout the school. "Oh, fuck, my class it at the other side of the campus."
"Tomorrow, then?" Jeonghan didn't want to see him go but they've known each other for a month. He was in no place to ask him to stay and shit.
"I was excited to share it with you," he pouted, and if anything, it endeared Jeonghan even more. "But yeah, tomorrow. I'll text you the address, hmm?"
"Sure, Cheollie." He blinked. The nickname slipped out by mistake.
He probably looked terrified because Seungcheol smiled at him right away. "Cheollie," his smile was so wide his dimples sunk right against his cheek. Fuck, he's so cute. "I like it. Call me that from now on."
--
He was definitely overdressed.
He had no idea what's gotten into him when he wore the flowy white dress shirt when he was going to the local university cafe but it was too late to change now. Seungcheol was already on his way, lugging books and the rest of his materials with him.
He was painfully cuter today, Jeonghan wanted to cry. His pale blue sweater was almost swallowing him whole and he was wearing black-rimmed glasses and he had the strongest urge to reach for his face and squeeze it like a stress ball.
Fucking adorable.
But he looked even more overdressed.
"Did you teach class in a hoodie?"
"No, I changed at home," he sat down across Jeonghan and struggled with all his books. "I think I brought too much."
"I'll buy you coffee or tea, what do you want? Jeonghan offered, overly fond.
"Oh, that's fine, you don't have to."
"You're doing me a huge favor, it's the least I can do."
Seungcheol smiled in resignation. "Do you have any suggestions?"
"I can choose for you?"
"Sure."
Jeonghan came back a few minutes later with his favorite flavor of black tea while Seungcheol pored over one of his notebooks. "Here."
He looked up with his wide, shining eyes and flashed Jeonghan one of those smiles that made him want to hide in a broom closet then cry himself to sleep. "Thank you," he took Jeonghan's wrist and pulled him to sit beside him. "Look at this, this is what I wanted to show you yesterday."
Jeonghan almost sat on his lap and for a second, he kind of felt sad that he didn’t land on the observably comfortable thighs. "I suddenly connected something," he took one basic college history textbook and opened it to the chapter on Queen Nari. "Here, she announces that she was going to go on a few days of mourning for the death of her Master Choi, her childhood painting teacher whom she respected immensely. At this same time, if you tracked the journals of Lee Jihoon, senior attendant to the Queen, the Prince Consort went into a deep mourning for reasons he did not completely specify. He said he cried day and night, refused to eat, and didn't sleep. If you track the rest of his entries, a few months later, there's one that says "in one of their old conversations, I have heard His Excellency say, 'you must know that if you die, my heart will die with you', watching His Excellency now, nearing his own end, I think back to it. The painter must have brought his heart with him to the afterlife."
Jeonghan frowned. In his years as a History major, he had come across countless love stories, but nothing pained his heart more than this did. "Master Choi and the painter from before his marriage to Princess Sunbin are the same person?"
"I think so," he nodded. "Master Choi replaced him while he was away but there was no evidence they ever met."
There was a gentle squeeze on Jeonghan's arm, and it was then that he realized that Seungcheol never let his wrist go. While the gears of his brain turned, he squeezed his arm on equal intervals as if Jeonghan was his personal stress ball. "And there's more, I need more evidence to back this up, I might have to visit North Korea for this."
"Why?"
"Because Prince Consort Yoon was buried in Pyeonan."
"The Imperial Capital is in the South, right? Well, Joseon, at least. Why would he be buried way up North?"
"Exactly," when he said that, he squeezed Jeonghan's arm once more, like his questions excited him. "There had been a big argument about this because Queen Nari insisted that he be buried in Anju although that would mean he would be separated from the Imperial Family buried in Gyeonggi, and his own family buried in Deokjeok-do."
"Why would she do that?"
"Guess," he smiled excitedly. "Clue, on his tomb, Queen Nari inscribed, 'may death finally reunite you' which was weird because Princess Sunbin was still alive."
Jeonghan finally pieced it together. "Wait…" unconsciously, he put his hand over Seungcheol, and pressed it in excitement, too. "The painter is buried in Anju?"
"The painter and his entire family is buried in Anju."
"Oh, they were so dating!"
"Right? Right?"
For an entire night, they kept talking about Seungcheol's research and they analyzed Prince Consort Yoon's life in relation to his upbringing of Queen Nari. Jeonghan took notes; he wasn't that incompetent of a PhD candidate, of course his brain worked sometimes even in the presence of a mind-stopping, hot, genius historian.
After they've had pasta at the cafe for dinner because they refused to move from their spot, Seungcheol consciously gnawed on his own lip, worrying it. "Hey, Jeonghan."
"Yeah, Cheollie?" He was just going to pretend Seungcheol going red upon his use of the nickname wasn't an ego booster to him.
"I'm sorry I talk too much," he sighed. "I usually am not this talkative but it's… exhilarating, you know? To be talking about things you care about to a person who doesn't seem to mind." His shy eyes glanced at him occasionally, unsure whether he should maintain eye contact. "You don't mind, right?"
For some reason, Jeonghan got a surge of unfound confidence. Maybe it was the tight grip that Seungcheol had on him for most of the day, or the way he blushes when he talks to him softly that encouraged it, he didn't know. He took a stray strand of his thick black hair and tucked it behind his ear. "I love listening to you talk," he replied in all honesty. "You can talk my ear off any day, it's music to me."
If possible, Seungcheol turned even redder.
--
One night, approximately five months after they met, Seungcheol and Jeonghan were finally done with the meetings. Even though he had plenty of information during their first few weeks of discussion, they kept meeting since Seungcheol volunteered to help him with the research for his dissertation. Jeonghan's adviser had approved of his current track and finalization was on its way.
But that also meant that they didn't have to meet anymore. The last few months had been the best of Jeonghan's life. He had been doing what he loved and learning it with a boy who made his insides turn to straight-up mush. To be honest, he thought the attraction was physical and therefore temporary but the more he got to know Seungcheol, the more he talked to him and experienced his brain, the more he wanted to take him somewhere where they could watch the stars only to watch him there.
"So…" Seungcheol had his hands on his pockets while he walked Jeonghan to the graduate dorms. Shivering in the late-Autumn cold. "You don't need to see me again after this."
Jeonghan hesitated. He didn’t have to. But he wanted to. "Yeah."
"What do you plan on doing tomorrow?"
"I'll probably just work at the library, get some pages down… Although it does get kind of cramped in there this time of year." How do I fucking tell him I still want to see him again? Why is this so hard? "You?"
"I'm gonna grade papers!" He beamed, like that was the most exciting thing in the world. "Do you want to work on your dissertation at my office? I have a fridge."
Oh, he's so much better at this than I am.
--
"There's this one song that he wrote," Jeonghan looked up. When he is thinking hard, sometimes Seungcheol mumbles to himself.
"Huh, who?"
Seungcheol jumped in surprise before laughing shyly. "Oh, it's nothing," he shook his head but reached for the side of his table anyway and took out a well-enclosed stack of papers. "We found this with all the others," slowly, he turned the papers towards Jeonghan.
Jeonghan smiled. Something I could help Cheollie with.
Seungcheol immediately noticed and tilted his head at him adorably. "What?"
"These are traditional music sheets." The weird curls and dots may look random to normal people, but not Jeonghan. "These are played on a daegeum," he leaned in closer, already imagining the tune in his mind. "I know how to read and play these."
"Really?"
"Yeah, but my dad is better at this. He's a music historian. When I was young, he'd figure out what it sounded like by letting me play it."
Seungcheol had an expression that he couldn't decipher. "That's so…"
"What?"
“Can I say it?” Seungcheol is breaking all the preconceived notions Jeonghan had of him. First, and most obvious of them all, when he heard Historian Choi Seungcheol, the first image of his mind was almost similar to that of his Asian Heritage Professor, hunched, stocky, balding, and mean. He wasn’t completely expecting the tall jock who looked like he could slam Jeonghan against any surface. Not that he’d be complaining if he actually did that. Second, he expected this tall jock to be one of those pretentious coffee scholars who considered school as a part of his dark academia aesthetic, he knew that type. But Seungcheol was a hardbound-lugging, map-making, giggly nerd. He was perfect.
“Say it.” He demanded, squeezing his knee affectionately in the process.
“It’s hot! Okay?” Seungcheol kept on giggling shyly, eventually opting to hide against his shoulder.
Jeonghan felt like floating. It was the combination of the sound of his laugh, the hand on his back, Seungcheol’s face against his shoulder, being called hot, and confusion about why the hell Seungcheol thought that way, that basically sent him to another dimension and out of his small professor’s office. “You think that’s hot?”
“Don’t ask me anymore,” he fake sobbed and he could feel the heat against his skin as Seungcheol blushed furiously.
“Okay, okay, I won’t,” he patted the back of his head in an attempt at comfort. Instead of pulling away, however, Seungcheol relaxed and hugged closer. He wrapped his arms around Jeonghan’s waist and buried his face even further into his neck. Jeonghan gladly extended his arms way around him to comfort him through some soothing motions along his back. “Are you okay?” He asked in the softest voice that he could manage.
“Yeah, yeah, I am,” he could feel his breath fanning against his skin and it tickled but he didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to scare him away. “Just dead tired. I’ve been up all night trying to make arrangements for the North Korea trip. It’s so hard to get a clearance.”
“They do allow it for historical studies, right?”
Seungcheol tilted his head a little to the side so he wasn’t completely buried against Jeonghan’s neck. “In theory, they do, we only get denied for tourism purposes and academic purposes are sometimes granted but the process is tedious.”
“Do you need any help?” He tilted his head down to look at Seungcheol’s face.
Seungcheol simply stared back—and in about one breath, leaned forward to kiss, but stopped short, lips hovering close. Jeonghan stopped breathing, a drumroll drumming in his chest. His brain blanked and all he could see was his expectant face, expression questioning, asking for permission. Considering that he wanted to kiss Seungcheol the first time he laughed at Jeonghan's obscure history joke about the Maginot Line, it wasn’t completely difficult to decide that he did want to meet him halfway.
Before he could, however, two soft knocks startled them both into jumping away from each other, right before one of Seungcheol’s co-teachers came into the room to offer him some cake from his office. When he was gone, Jeonghan sighed, it was also time for his meeting with his own thesis adviser. “Cheollie, um…”
But he beat him to it. “Let’s get coffee? Tomorrow?”
“We can work?” Jeonghan tiptoed around.
“Or we can… go on a date,” Seungcheol blinked. “If you want to.” Seungcheol swiped a stray strand of hair away from his forehead.
Jeonghan’s breath hitched. “Yeah,” he exhaled. “I want to.”
Blinking himself back into focus, he took his things and looked back a little to wave goodbye to Seungcheol. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow, Jeonghan.”
--
Jeonghan had not completely processed that he just went on a date with Choi Seungcheol until he was walking him to his door inside the dark, dingy, and eerily quiet graduate dorms. "Do you plan on staying here for long?" He's just going to pretend he wasn't completely aware that they had been holding hands the entire time. Seungcheol's hands were cold, but they were big and strong and he had Jeonghan's hand completely clamped in his.
"When I finish my PhD I'm going to move to a nicer apartment uptown, I think," he said, smiling. "I've been looking... this is me." They stopped at the door labelled 6-G, and it was ultimately time to say goodbye.
Seungcheol frowned but he tried not to show his disappointment too much. "I had a wonderful day with you," he clasped his hand in his and pressed a very light kiss against the skin there. "Ever since I met you I've always been enamored of you."
"Me, too."
"You've always been enamored of you, too?" Seungcheol joked.
The giggle out of Jeonghan’s mouth was immediate and he wasted no time pulling in Seungcheol to press their foreheads together, his eyes fluttering close as he tried to drink it all in. The touches, the feeling, the sighs. The drumroll is back, thundering harder than ever against his ribcage, threatening to break it open.
To calm the storm, he finally pulled Seungcheol by the waist and allowed their lips to find each other in a warm, gentle kiss. His mind blanked, the constant stream of screaming whenever he was near him all cut to silence and all he could think of was the feeling of Seungcheol kissing him. His hand moved from Jeonghan’s shoulder to find shelter against the side of his neck, pulling Jeonghan impossibly closer.
Jeonghan’s lips parted slightly which Seungcheol took as his chance to deepen the kiss, pressing him flush against his dorm door. Jeonghan wanted to keep kissing him, to keep breathing him in until he had no air left in his lungs.
But Seungcheol pulled away, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry I went too far.”
Jeonghan shook his head. “No,” he cupped his face in his hand. “You didn’t go too far.”
He smiled, still breathless. “I’m glad,” he pressed another kiss against Jeonghan’s cheek. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
They stayed like that for a while, occasionally giving each other very soft kisses as they whispered quietly. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"See you tomorrow."
--
Jeonghan stared at Seungcheol who had been zoning out, staring at a distance as he studied every single evidence he gathered from Prince Consort Yoon's tomb after his trip to Anju in North Korea. Jeonghan pulled him into a hug and chuckled at his very spaced out reaction to being pulled. "You're tired, you should rest. History is done, there's no time limit to discovering the past."
Seungcheol sighed and leaned against him. "How do you always know what to say?" Considering all the times his words stumbled in front of him, he wouldn't say words actually come easy to him. But the comfort Cheol brings to him was more than enough to give him the necessary amount of brain power to say pretentious shit. "I feel so at ease because of you."
"That's the least I could do for you. You're making me so happy."
However, Seungcheol scoffed. "I don't think I can do that."
"Cheollie," he put a finger under Seungcheol's chin and tilted it up to him. “Do you remember when you said you hoped Prince Consort Yoon Jeonghan had a happy ending?”
“Mm?”
“Believe me, you gave this Yoon Jeonghan a very happy ending.”