Work Text:
In one of my afternoon strolls from the work office to my hotel, I happened to pass by one of the street stalls in the city. Quite strangely, a few articles caught my eye—a wooden pipe, a disfigured cake figurine, and old cans.
The pipe in itself was the most interesting.
I was caught with how the seller weaved her story—the pipe once belonged to an Asian aristocrat who stumbled in the cobbled streets, looking for a woman who stole her heart. The woman had told her that she was of this city; perhaps if fate allows, they could meet here again.
Yet several springs have bloomed, and countless winters fell, and their paths never crossed.
As a farewell, the aristocrat left her most beloved pipe in the library’s office where the woman said she worked, and disappeared. Whether the woman saw the pipe or not, no one said a word.
Needless to say, I bought the pipe, and I could hear your amused laughter in my head.
Only later in the night, when I played with the pipe, did I discover something much more than its history—or so what the seller shared to me. You might want to see it for yourself.
The figurine is for Konstantin. As for the cans, do as you wish with them.
Jung Leewon
(pictured in the postcard: Krakow’s St. Mary’s Basilica in the sunset, peaceful despite the busy market square, with several birds soaring to the skies.)
×
“But what’s so special about that old pipe?” Dmitri wonders, staring at it and keeping his hands to himself. “It’s just some old wooden long smoking pipe.”
A smile never leaves Caesar’s face as he gazes at the said pipe, ice-gray eyes alight with humor. “Oh, but that pipe is something else, all right.”
“What, other than the cheesy, cringe-worthy story behind it?”
Caesar chuckles, remembering the story. “Well, that one, yes. But just in case I haven’t emphasized it yet—my husband has a keen eye in catching interesting, captivating things. Have you seen those cans he bought?”
“Those ugly ones?”
Caesar’s smile dims a little. “Look at them harder the next time you see them.”
“Why on earth should I?!”
When Dmitri leaves the office, Caesar toys once more with the pipe, twisting the stem carefully. With two twists the stem breaks free, and with light fingers, opens the stem, and reads the barely-seen stanza carved inside.
×
Subject: (none)
My beloved husband,
Konstantin laughed for ten solid minutes when I handed him his figurine, almost losing hold of it. When I asked him why—how dare he laugh at your gift!—he only muttered something about your odd sense of humor, and how you’d like some things to be remembered.
Needless to say, he was in a good mood for the rest of the day—if the cakes he made that day, as well as the body count of his prey, were to be considered.
The pipe now sits on our shared table, by the way. The cans, on the other hand, are in the kitchen. Konstantin did not complain, only sighed and rolled his eyes.
Also, the organizations have begun with their crackdown attempts, regarding the case connected to yours. As per your advice, the Sergeyev will not make a move, nevermind if I itch to pierce a hole through that man’s head.
Why can’t I kill him again, my husband?
Summer passes by so slowly, as if time had stopped ticking when you left.
I miss you, too.
Your loving husband,
Caesar
sent 23:49, June 1X, 20XX
×
In the dim moonlight, the words are barely seen, but Caesar’s eyes catch them quickly.
It was only with the help of one of the Sergeyev’s employees that he understood the stanza engraved, and a smile returns to his lips once more.
Old friend, tell me,
When will a wild goose reach me here? [1]
×
“As per your orders, no one remained alive at that organization, and we seized all the assets that are of use,” Konstantin informs Caesar. “It’s quite surprising to note that this organization has been actually working separately from the parent organization for several years, although the possibility that this was the parent organization’s bidding isn’t ignored.”
“En,” Caesar nods absently, his gaze on the view outside the window. “Anything else?”
Konstantin swallows a sigh, knowing well what the other’s mind is preoccupied with.
“Yuri and Viktor are keeping a sharp eye on the Lomonosov, as you’re probably aware of by now,” he says. “No suspicious movement—at least, from the main family’s side.”
Caesar says nothing.
This time, Konstantin barely holds back a rather annoyed sigh. “Well, we can’t help it. The case stumbled on very important domino blocks, thus nearly crippling everything.”
“Must he be away for so long?”
“As Attorney Jung explained to me, he has to do everything he can so as not to get on the international courts’ bad side.” Konstantin shrugs. “Honestly, I’m surprised you actually let him work outside the mansion with only two of his guards.”
An almost-growl escapes between Caesar’s gritted teeth.
He can still remember the brewing argument he and his husband had that night, nearly escalating into another situation he’d rather not experience all over again.
Caesar still feels his maddening fear, his overwhelming urge to cage his Leewon away and never let him go.
As well as his frustrated helplessness knowing that if he did just so, Leewon might distance himself from him again.
“Doesn’t that go the same for you, Konstantin?” he mutters.
“I have to catch up on my classes,” Konstantin half-smiles. “Besides, if Attorney Jung ever catches even a hint of my presence, he’d kick my ass back home. Mercilessly, at that.”
Somehow, the truth in Konstantin’s words calms the raging jealousy in Caesar’s system. “So you’re not going to be where Leewon is for your…lessons with Leonid?”
“Oh, no. Besides, if Mr. Leonid sees Attorney Jung, he’d definitely rat me out, saying that I’m being an unfilial kid. That’s not gonna end well,” Konstantin scowls, and Caesar chuckles.
Just then, one of the Sergeyev guards enters the office, a small box in her hands.
“I found this in Attorney Jung’s office,” she explains. “There was no addressee written, or even name of the sender.”
“Have you informed Alec about it?”
“Yes, Young Master. Alec says there’s nothing suspicious inside, so he believes this is for the attorney, or for the Tsar.”
“I see,” Konstantin nods, getting the box. “Thank you, Nika.”
Meanwhile, Caesar gets his cutter from the drawers, quietly grabs the box away from Konstantin’s hands, and cuts the tapes to open the box.
“...what’s inside?” Konstantin turns back when Caesar doesn’t say anything after a long while.
Wordlessly, Caesar sets out the contents—a leaflet, several charms, small jars of adjika[2]and honey, and two postcards.
“...and all these honey because of my earlier gripe about authentic honey being so hard to find in Moscow lately,” Konstantin helplessly smiles. “But adjika?”
“Ah,” Caesar utters, remembering something, and laughs quietly. “He’s still on the chili paste discourse, I guess.”
“Chili paste—what?”
×
Subject: (none)
Dearest husband,
Perhaps it is because of personal bias, but I still prefer adjika more than gochujang. Then again, I might change my mind (again) when you come home and give me a taste of those lettuce wraps once more.
I received the report from Feofan through Alec, by the way. How did you convince them to be on our side? I’m genuinely curious.
The postcards are lovely, thank you—but the late afternoons spent with you in the back gardens, with you peacefully sleeping on my front, are still the best ones.
Come home soon,
Caesar
sent 18:30, June 2X, 20XX
×
“As per their leader, they’re willing to explain more about the whole fiasco—testify, if need be,” Iosif reports. “However, all evidence that will link back to the Lomonosov heir are all completely destroyed, and there’s just no way of retrieving any data.”
“I figured,” Leewon sighs, resting back on his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “No need to testify, though—I’m doing all that I can so the legal courts won’t be involved.”
“Can this be really solved through, uh, the ‘courts’ of the mafia?” Iosif wonders. “I mean, those courts are just basically kangaroo courts, but worse.”
“If the legal courts step in, especially the international ones, it’ll go out of control,” Leewon sighs. “Not to mention, the Lomonosov has a bit of an influence in those courts, similar to the Sergeyev. It will only get messier, and maybe start things that should never be started in the first place.”
“Right,” Iosif huffs, and sits down on the chair across the lawyer’s desk. “Ah, yeah. Do you still have those heaven-sent pastries sent by the Young Master? I’m hungry.”
“Hmm, I think Feofan took them all away—”
“That fucking brat!” Iosif quickly rises from his seat and stomps to where Feofan is hiding. “Show yourself, you sniping bastard!”
Leewon chuckles to himself, shaking his head, and places a small container of tarts Konstantin had sent exclusively for him on his desk.
The small bottle of vodka and box of cigars still remains untouched in Leewon’s makeshift shelf, the note stuck to the box strangely untouched by dust.
×
Sweetheart,
For nights you miss drinking and sharing a flame with me.
From your waiting, loving husband
×
The case is halfway done, but I will still meet several executives from various mafia organizations who were caught in the controversy. Quite fortunately (or not, depending on how you see it) one of those happens to be the head of the organization Konstantin’s friend, Pyotr, belongs to. Whether they will cooperate with us, that is yet to be seen.
In the next few days I’ll be flying again to a different country, their language I am not so fluent in. I hear you sigh—“ah, my little tiger, but when have you not learned anything?”
I hate saying this, but you really cannot force an old dog to learn new tricks.
Jung Leewon
(pictured in the postcard: the view of Tbilisi from Narikala Fortress in the morning)
×
“So that explains why I was very much encouraged by my eldest brother to see you and the Tsar personally,” Pyotr rolls his eyes. “As if my visit will influence Attorney Jung’s decision. Or the Sergeyev’s stance, I mean.”
Konstantin smiles at him. “It doesn’t hurt to try, Pyotr.”
“Whatever. Be honest—even if you do your bestest, there is just no way you can convince Attorney Jung.”
“Ouch.”
“Even Galina attests to it, pretty blondie,” Pyotr points out.
“...why are you the chosen heir again? Ugh.”
“Aw, I’m also your friend, by the way.” Pyotr grins teasingly.
“How fortunate,” Konstantin mutters, sipping his tea as Pyotr laughs.
On the other hand, the Tsar only watches them both, seemingly disinterested. As if he only spared a little of his attention to someone else because he had nothing else to do.
Not that the younger ones cared much. They were well aware of the fact that unless it meant a life-or-death decision, the Tsar never cared for anything except if it involved Attorney Jung.
“And how is your father trying to…appeal his own stance?” Konstantin asks.
“He has a stance?” Pyotr rolls his eyes again. “Honestly. They’re all just cowering from the Lomonosov because of Mikhail’s influence. Were it not for him, I’m pretty sure my family would have sided with yours.”
“But Gran—I mean, Mr. Mikhail is long retired from the mafia. On the political side of things, his influence isn’t as great as before.”
“Yeah, but between him and Vladimir, whom do you think those organizations would most likely rely on?”
“...fair,” Konstantin agrees. “They’re not planning to do something against Stepan[3], though?”
Pyotr snorts. “Please, Sergeyev heir. You’re the only mafia heir who isn’t even trying to kill him, especially after the fiasco.”
“Waste of bullets. And I don’t want my axes to be stained by the filth of that fool’s blood, thanks.”
“My goodness. No wonder that dolt is still acting like a donkey who drowned in wine.”
“Not after Attorney Jung stepped in, though.”
Pyotr hides the chills in his spine from his friend’s reminder with a laugh. “That was certainly memorable, all right.”
Just then, Alyosha enters the room, an unreadable expression on his face. Konstantin raises a brow in question, but Alyosha does not answer.
Instead, he hands a small postcard to the Tsar, whispers something, and quickly leaves.
Konstantin and Pyotr look at each other in confusion, while the Tsar intently reads the note on the postcard.
“Konstantin,” the Tsar says after a moment. “We’re leaving for Murmansk tonight. As for you,” he glances at Pyotr, “I hope your family will not regret their decision.”
Although a little bewildered at his words, both young men nod, and Pyotr immediately leaves for his house.
×
Leewon,
In each day that passes without you by my side, my sanity slips away little by little. Only with the knowledge that you will be disappointed by me when I let loose do I keep myself in check, somehow.
This is perhaps my insanity speaking, but even the evening chill in the Murmansk air reminds me of you. Then again, in whatever my eyes rest upon, I am always reminded of you.
Missing you so,
Caesar
(pictured in the stationery: Murmansk in the evening)
×
“The Sergeyev are still on the move, and they’re most probably in St. Petersburg by now,” Feofan reports, handing Leewon the stationery sent in the mail. “Kir and Kazimir have joined them, with Alyosha doing the recon.”
“Apparently, several organizations have thought the whole fiasco was because of the Sergeyev’s intervention, thus the attempted attacks in several of our remote offices. It seems that the Young Master and the Tsar are intent on ‘cleaning up’ the dirt left behind themselves,” Iosif adds.
“Has Vladimir done anything?” Leewon asks after a moment.
The two guards stare at each other, a slightly uneasy look on their faces. Leewon catches the answer they are reluctant to say, and sighs heavily.
“Truly the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” the attorney mutters, then stands up from his seat and pulls one of the documents on his desk.
“I shouldn’t have been so lenient with that foolish child, I guess.”
×
“Tsar!” Kazimir suddenly calls in the middle of the bullet storm in Novorossiysk. “A memo from the lawyer has arrived just now!”
“What?!”
Both Konstantin and Caesar pause, briskly walking to where Kazimir is. At the same time, the enemy stops firing out of nowhere, a bemused look on their faces.
“Interesting,” a cruel smile paints both Sergeyev as they read the memo through Kazimir’s phone. Konstantin raises his machine gun towards the enemy, his emerald eyes alight with murder.
“No one said about running away, however,” he says, grinning sharply. “Shall I remind you of the consequences of your foolishness?”
“Wait—!”
Konstantin pulls the trigger, and a merciless hail of bullets ravages what is left of the enemy.
“Oops, finger slipped,” Konstantin smiles. “I hope Stepan wouldn’t mind.”
“Leewon most probably would, you silly beast,” Caesar mutters, shaking his head.
“...ah, well.”
×
Subject: Explanations Needed
The two of you have a lot of explaining to do when I come home.
I only sent a memo that I reminded the current Lomonosov Head of their compliance agreement, and yet I hear you ended up committing a massacre anyway.
Jung Leewon 정이원
Jung Law Office
Moscow, Russia
sent July 01, 20XX, 12:16
×
To my angry little tiger,
It’s all Konstantin, not me.
I only followed your bidding.
I hope the roses are still fresh by the time it reaches you.
Your Caesar
×
“Eh? But Mr. Jung checked out from this hotel two days ago,” the receptionist tells the delivery man. “I’m sorry, we cannot accept deliveries to a guest who is not here anymore. Perhaps you should contact the sender regarding this…?”
“Uh…has Mr. Jung informed anyone of his whereabouts, at least?”
“I’m not sure, but one of his EAs told the manager that should anyone send him anything, we should let them know that they will be staying in Belarus.”
“...pardon?!”
×
“My, what coincidence!” Leonid sing-songs, walking beside Leewon and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I never imagined you going here, really.”
“I could say the same thing,” Leewon mutters, sending his guards a subtle look. “You must have too much time on your hands to stay here.”
“Change of pace,” he shrugs. “Eh, where’d your guards go? And where is my sweet summer boy?”
“I sent my guards to look out somewhere, and Konstantin is still in Russia,” Leewon answers indifferently.
“And you are to meet someone here, hmm?”
Leewon does not answer.
“Oh, he does!” Leonid laughs, carefree and amused. “And what does the Tsar say about this?”
“...nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“What ‘nothing’? That husband of yours has nearly prohibited anyone and everyone from speaking to you! Speaking of which, I don’t even see him.”
It’s a while before Leewon speaks again, this time between gritted teeth. “He has yet to know that I am here.”
“My, oh my!” Leonid’s laughter is louder. “Oh, naughty little one. Whatever shall you do once the Tsar follows you here?”
A smile that doesn’t seem like a smile ticks up the corners of Leewon’s lips. “Shouldn’t you be thankful that I lured your prey nearer to your rifle?”
“That wouldn’t do,” Leonid grins, a wicked glint in his eyes. “But since you are here, perhaps the chase will be quite worth my time.”
×
“The movement of the organizations embroiled in the fiasco are slowly but surely fading out in the neighboring countries, focusing now on the key cities here in Russia,” Yuri reports, setting down the documents on the coffee table. “The Lomonosov, on the other hand, is yet to make a stance on this issue.”
“Cowards,” Dmitri scoffs. “As if they would. That Stepan has no balls to admit his sins to begin with, and I’m pretty sure Vladimir is doing anything that he can to make everyone just forget it.”
“Are they just waiting for Attorney Jung to intervene once more so they can just pass all the stuff to him and they won’t have to do anything?” Konstantin frowns. “Very nice of them.”
“Shameless.”
“Is that connected,” Caesar says, ”to Leewon’s presence in Belarus?”
They all pause, turning to look at Caesar.
“Belarus?” Dmitri echoes in disbelief.
“Who on earth dragged him there?!” Konstantin exclaims at the same time.
“I don’t know, it was what the delivery person told me when he went at the hotel,” Caesar shows the message screen on his phone to Konstantin.
“...could it be the reason why Attorney Jung sent us that sudden message when we were cleaning up in Novorossiysk? I mean, several influential partners of the Lomonosov are located there,” Konstantin wonders.
“Or there might be another reason,'' Dmitri mutters. “Not when the second biggest KGB Headquarters is in Belarus.”
“...he wouldn’t go there, would he?”
×
Subject: URGENT
Leewon,
A word from you, and I will not fly right now to Minsk City. Or wherever you may be in Belarus.
Caesar
sent 00:01, July 5, 20XX
×
Subject: File Validation
Caesar,
You might want to check these files. Let me know your thoughts ASAP.
Perhaps this will make my work easier so I can go home sooner.
Jung Leewon 정이원
Jung Law Office
Moscow, Russia
attachment included: file_index_lomonosov.docx
sent 08:56, July 5, 20XX
×
Subject: File Validation
Darling Leewon,
Dmitri and Alec checked the file you just sent earlier, and it has been nothing but…surprising. Needless to say, it is now easier to track down those people who were involved in the case. I’m still leaving it up to you whether that foolish Lomonosov brat must be killed to pay for his crimes.
In other news, love. When are you coming home to me?
I love you,
Caesar
sent 12:01, July 5, 20XX
×
First two songs merge only either scales, halves, singles; last two hang focus. First two welcome tablets keeping case records; last two airproof both debris. [4]
Leewon
(pictured in the postcard: Oslo’s coastline in mid-day)
×
“The choices are clear,” Attorney Leewon Jung’s voice is colder than the Siberian winter storms, his eyes more so. “I believe you are well-aware of it, Stepan. But if you choose to be stubborn…”
“What?” The attempted haughtiness in Stepan’s voice is overshadowed by his growing fear. “You’ll sell the Lomonosov to the Sergeyev?”
“Not a bad idea, young heir,” the attorney smiles faintly. “But something worse than that.”
Stepan’s hands curl into fists, trembling slightly in anger and frustration.
“Perhaps there’s a better way to deal with this, Leewon,” Stepan’s father, Vladimir Mikhailovich Lomonosov, keeps his voice level. “This was a mistake—”
“A mistake that nearly ruined so much of the Russian economy,” the lawyer’s eyes narrow subtly. “Perhaps you understand the weight such a mistake carries, Vladimir?”
“But why should we care about the economy, anyway?” Stepan demands. “We are of the mafia, anyway! So what if the common people get affected?!”
“Stepan!” Vladimir exclaims.
Meanwhile, Iosif and Feofan, who are flanking the lawyer, glare menacingly at the young Lomonosov heir. Contempt is clear on their gaze, as if thinking less of him.
“Stepan Vladimirovich Lomonosov,” Attorney Jung says slowly, “are you the next mafia head who will lead the organization to new heights, or are you a spoiled young master who will doom the Lomonosov to ruins?”
The room’s temperature drops several degrees lower, and for a moment, it is winter all over again in Oslo despite being in the middle of summer.
Stepan and Vladimir obviously pale at Attorney’s—the Sergeyev’s Tsarina’s—frigid gaze at them, chills slithering down their spines.
“I am not going to lecture you on what a mafia heir is expected to be—that’s Vladimir’s job, not mine. And I definitely won't be reminding you of manners and boundaries, as it will be compromising, considering my current circumstances. But note this very well, Stepan,” Attorney Jung’s dark eyes meets Stepan’s wide smoky gray ones.
“The moment you commit the same mistake again, or any mistake that will put everybody in peril, I will not be this lenient towards you. Do you understand?”
Attorney Jung does not wait for them to answer as he rises up on his chair and leaves.
×
“Iosif,” Leewon says as he gets inside the sedan, “when’s the next flight to St. Petersburg?”
“In two hours, Boss,” Iosif quickly answers, starting the engine. “Should I book us seats?”
“...not yet,” Leewon ponders. “There is still one more thing to be dealt with before we return to Russia.”
“We’re not letting both the Tsar and the Young Master know of your return, Boss?” Feofan asks after a while.
“Not yet,” Leewon answers, eyes focused on the rearview mirror. “Get ready, Feofan.”
×
“—in other news, a car was found sinking in Operastranda, with unidentified men trapped inside, all dead. The police believe the victims have died because of the car’s explosion, with the suspect yet to be caught. Consequently, the local authorities advised locals and tourists that the Harbor Promenade will be closed for the time being until the case is resolved.”
“It is later on revealed that the corpses found, after a thorough autopsy, are of the top two most wanted criminals in Europe, charged with several counts of murder and arson—”
×
“There is no word from either Iosif or Feofan of their plans to return here, Young Master,” Alec answers. “However, the case is now in the final stages, so they might come back sooner.”
“Seems like Stepan finally relented, huh,” Konstantin says, slicing the fruits for his tarts. “And the rest of the organizations?”
“Perhaps out of fear of Attorney Jung, they have decided to withdraw. After all, he has significant connections with prominent prosecutors in the capital city.”
Konstantin snorts. “Interesting.”
The oven then pings, signaling that the cake layers are ready, and Konstantin quickly places the cake pans on the cooling rack.
“Where’s the Tsar, by the way?” Alec asks, passing the frosting to Konstantin. “I haven't seen him around lately.”
“Moping, duh,” Konstantin rolls his eyes. “Because Attorney Jung hasn’t sent him anything for the past several days. And considering that everything is more or less smooth-sailing lately…”
“I see,” a teasing smile brightens Alec’s face. “No wonder the refrigerator’s filled with pastries…”
“Oh, shush, you. The honey cake is for Galina, this strawberry one for Pyotr.”
“And the rest?”
Konstantin frowns (pouts) at him. “For everyone, of course!”
Alec bursts out laughing. “If you say so, Young Master.”
×
“—an executive meeting? Oh, okay, okay. Yeah. Lawyer Jung’s request is to keep everything hidden—oh, come on, Alec. Just work it out with Yuri, man! Or drag Alyosha in it—uh huh. Yeah. Got it, man. Thanks.”
“I was about to recommend Kir, he’s way better at handling stuff like that,” Feofan whispers. “But ah, well. In between Alyosha and him, Alyosha’s more seasoned.”
“Why did I forget that?” Iosif huffs. “Oh right, both the Tsar and the Young Master will be attending the executive meeting. Our plane will arrive in Moscow before the meeting ends, Boss—er, Boss?”
“Uh, yeah?” Attorney Jung blinks, as if pulled away from his train of thought. “When are we gonna board the plane?”
“In—”
“Good afternoon passengers, this is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 0831A to Moscow. Passengers requiring special assistance, as well as those with small children and infants, are requested to board immediately. Kindly prepare your boarding pass as well as your identification. Regular boarding will begin in fifteen minutes. Thank you.”
Attorney Jung’s expression remains placid, but both guards catch the subtle change and barely-there emotions in his face.
As well as how he tightens the large coat he is wearing around him.
×
Meanwhile, as Konstantin discusses the results of the investigation regarding the fiasco, Caesar absently plays with the hem of Leewon’s scarf loosely wrapped around his neck, the fountain pen resting above his papers.
Come home soon.
×
By the time Leewon arrives in the mansion, it is already late afternoon. The sunlight washes everything with its golden glow, creating a scene so eye-catchingly magical.
With final instructions to both Feofan and Iosif, Leewon immediately proceeds to the garage, picking his favorite sedan, and drives to where the executive meeting is held.
×
“We’ll see you next week, then.”
Caesar barely glances at them. On his hand is his phone, deliberating whether to call Leewon right now or not.
After all, it’s been almost a month since Leewon left for his business meetings to finish the legal proceedings…it won’t hurt to call him at least, right?
He’d had enough of postcards and emails. How foolish to even convince himself that those would be enough for him.
He is dying to hear his Leewon’s voice, see his subtle smiles and the hidden laughter in his eyes, feel him in his arms…
The yearning is just too much, even for him.
Especially for him.
“I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain” [5]
Konstantin remained behind, still discussing several matters to some executives, promising to be back before dinner. Viktor stayed with him, as well as Alyosha.
Caesar freezes as he opens the waiting car’s door, his heart stopping for one full second, and restarting again, thumping loudly against his ribcage.
He isn’t dreaming, is he?
He isn’t hallucinating, insane with wishes he can only obtain in his sleep—
Because there, on the driver’s seat, is his beloved.
His beloved, golden in the sunlight, beautiful and glowing. His beloved, head leaning on the wheel, a smile on his lovely dark eyes.
His beloved, missed and yearned for.
Caesar doesn’t waste time. Has had enough of wasting time.
Quickly he swoops down and crushes his lips against his husband’s, drinking in the wine to quench his thirst. He tastes sweetness and warmth, the first rays of the spring after the long winter.
“Leewon,” he breathes against soft, plump lips. “Leewon.”
“Hello to you, too,” Leewon chuckles, breathless and rough. “Has the meeting ended well?”
“Dull,” Caesar mutters, holding Leewon close to him and inhaling his scent. “So dull. And you—”
Only then he pulls away, wanting to have a closer look of the face he’d longed to touch again.
“...you have not rested before this?” Caesar grimaces. “Oh, Leewon. You could’ve just stayed at home and waited for us. Look at you, so exhausted.” A gloved thumb traces the faint circles under Leewon’s eyes.
“I’m fine,” Leewon slightly leans at his touch. “I’ll drive you home. Where’s Kostya?”
“Stayed behind, promised to be back before dinner,” Caesar closes the door, and kisses Leewon once more. “And I would rather you drive something else—”
“Quiet,” Leewon mutters, but Caesar hears the laughter in his voice. “Shall we?”
×
In the deep of the night, draped in silk sheets and shared skin, Leewon sleeps in Caesar’s arms, his head resting against his chest. His breaths tickle Caesar’s skin, warming the place within him that had gone cold in Leewon’s absence.
It’s been too, too long.
How has he survived night after night without his husband? How has he kept himself afloat without nothing mooring him through the stormy waves?
How has he breathed without his reason of being?
Caesar nuzzles against Leewon’s messy, soft hair, delighting in his scent mixed with his. Blissed out with the beating heart against his own, of the knowledge that he is home.
In the midnight silence he marvels, melts; surrenders at the overwhelming tides of affection he once thought he would never feel at all.
In the stillness he lets himself long, lets himself…lets himself…
Leewon whispers his name in his sleep, and Caesar’s arms tighten around his body.
×
Leewon,
My heart is with you, wherever you may be; do with it as you please, hopefully it reminds you of me.
Yours, always and forever,
Caesar