Jongho's steady breathing has him calming down from his spilling tears, but he fears facing the knight again. Weight is pressing down onto his fragile heart like it is glass, and it makes him feel weak.

"Do not worry, Yeosang. I promised you that I would come back."

He heaves himself by the urge to see the other's eyes and to detect the same sincere gaze like the one tinting his groggy voice. Jongho is smiling up at him when their eyes meet and Yeosang's heart flutters unknowingly when he feels a warmth spreading under his skin. It makes him feel better. Jongho reaches out to dry the tear away from his face, that had been tickling his cheek until now. The warm thumb of the knight caresses down the wetted lines the tears have created and his fingers are left to leniently hold around Yeosang's chin. The boy's lips are slightly parted when he sees where the knight's eyes leave to rest. The salted water is left to stick to his wetted eyelashes.

Then a deep embarrassment rushes in him when Jongho then touches his dark skin mark beside his one eye briefly, "I have never seen something like this before," he mutters as Yeosang feels the tip of his fingers caress the birthmark as if in true wonderment.

None of his braided hair is there to cover his eyes for the situation acting in front of him, but he wishes it had. Yeosang has never been very fond of the marks stretching from the corner of his eye to his hairline, that he is born with. They look like brutal scars, showing long times of suffering, he thinks, but no one has apparently paid any attention to this detail, besides the man laying here. The boy swallows skittishly as he can feel the fingers trail along his skin and his legs become numb on the ground he stands. He is staggering close, his eyes are pushing him down rather than pulling as Yeosang feels weight over his stiff back. But with his stomach being filled with fluttering butterflies and his skin feeling both hot and tingly of the pure finger touches drilling across his senses and his eyes being occupied with watching the knight's rather flawless smile - he can already taste the satisfying chivalry on the tip of his tongue, and it somehow has him feeling a torrent of bliss that he has known from the past. If he leans less than an inch more, he is not to save anymore, not when his lips will touch.

Before, he tears himself from the prying temptation and steps away from the bedside. His pupils are heated huge while his heart is trying to push through his chest in a vicious battle against his mind's aspiration. To distract himself, Yeosang heaves the sleeve of his shirt to dry his face from the dampness that still is left.

"Uh, I apologize for my rather distressed self..." the boy tells him, but his sentence does feel somehow hollow, "Jongho."

When he finds Jongho's eyes resting cozily upon his figure while he explains himself, he gulps and flicks his eyes to his boots, "Shall I find one of the healers?"

But Yeosang never sees the amused reaction pulling at the knight's face, when he leaves the chamber without any heard answer.

_____

From the moment the Crusaders have returned from their outing, nothing of Yeosang's daily routines has been the same. Yeosang leaves his concerns to that matter, as he is left without any creed and training in the ring to do. The atmosphere wherever he steps seems away, and when he passes knights in the corridors, they never look at him but instead at the floor, as if he was just a mere gust of wind.

As the boy sits by the long wooden tables in the feast hall, he senses the thick tension filling the air until it feels suffocating to breathe. Looking around to spot the blonde-haired knight anywhere, he is nowhere, and still, it seems as if everyone is coming here. Unlike the last time, this found place, not many are conversing among each other, and Yeosang has difficulty with understanding, considering that the injured knight has been the only one he has been talking with those past days. He has so many questions to ask San.

"Please, my association, have a seat and you shall be informed."

Startled, Yeosang turns his head, thinking that someone will finally tell him what is happening. By the tall table, sit the heads of this place, and Yeosang's eyes land immediately at Seonghwa. It is Lord Aitóre that speaks, and just like last time, he remains stiff and unsmiling.

"I received the message just a few days ago, that our brave knights had returned from their ride, and so, I have hurried myself back here again. But, I am afraid that those servings in the name of God, are never unharmful. And therefore, I must inform you that we have lost the ardor of people. One of them being Higher Commander Dál."

When those words leave the firm face of the Lord, Yeosang's feet turn cold. The hall is in complete silence and Yeosang's sight turns to the empty chair on the opposite side of Lord Aitóre than where Seonghwa seats.

"But for their strong determinism and will in the name of our Lord, they shall rest in Neorxnawang, the heavenly meadows where their souls will be granted forever peace for their fearless battling in the name of God," the man stops himself before raising himself from his seat and continuing, "I call it, that from this day, we shall not mourn anymore, for any loss has not been - we shall instead feel proud and celebrate for what achievements their bravity has brought us!"

And the Lord holds his glass high in the air as the knights cheer at his words. Somehow, Yeosang finds himself following the mass and doing as they do, even though he cannot keep from thinking how wrong this morally is.

The boy can feel how his mind trails off until he is not sitting in the great feast hall with those hundreds of other Knights Templars, but a place that feels unexplainable yet. Yeosang learns that there is something cruelty untrue luring in those misleadingly spoken words of this Lord.

______

While San is sharpening his stock of arrows with a solid piece of iron, Yeosang stares deeply down into the stiff thin parchment that rests upon his knees. The black ink swirls around each other until they turn into words, furthermore forming his deepest thoughts down into writing. Melancholy, he let his chin rest on his hand as the woe has drawn deep lines in his mind there currently is directed at all his worries regarding Wooyoung. They are a blend of memoirs and a diary that he has started writing ever since San managed to find pieces of parchment somewhere in the fortress that Yeosang never has gotten to know. His eyes curl around the paper before he looks over at the bench where the knight sits, fully occupied in his own work. Not that it minded anything if he is to look at what Yeosang is doing when the boy knows that San cannot write nor read any letters. That is one thing, Yeosang can call himself rather lucky to have learned; the world of letters. It is all written in Latin.

"San, have you spoken with Seonghwa those days?" the boy asks when he places the last period on the parchment.

He sees the knight shake his head when he steers at him, "No, I have not had the chance to do so. High Commander Park has been rather engaged in work here lately. I suppose you know," he replies while he reaches for a new arrow from the holster, "Emma has been awfully petty of that matter and I assume that he will be the only one to change her mood."

Yeosang is aware of that, and so, he hums at the other's words, "Yes, I just thought..."

San places another arrow down and looks up at the boy whose eyes seem to shake slightly in the contemplation of telling him his consideration. But that is to no worry when the knight pulls the strings to his famous smile that has Yeosang soothed.

He sighs and swallows his anticipation until he voices a piece of his mind, "I just thought that perhaps he would move on with my training. As before, per se."

The air falls silent and causes Yeosang to tighten his hold furthermore around the parchment in his hands before a startle echoes down his spine and fear dips down his eyes. San is sputtering in laughs, so much that he has to cover his mouth from sounding too loud - not that it helps the boy think - but enough to have the knight crinkling his eyes until they disappear. The boy stares at him in utter confusion and unsure if he misunderstood the choice of time.

"Of course not!" San exclaims when he searches Yeosang again. He still giggles into his hand and Yeosang would have found the sounds sweet, if he had not been that bewildered.

Then San stops and he draws in a heavy breath of air, "Sorry, I surmise that no one has told you that this passing week is for resting - that also means that no training will be done. Have you heard of the celebrations later tonight?"

No, Yeosang had not, but he soon would when San would be the one to drag him around at hours where he should have rested in his bed. This conversation has given him no true answers despite his trying.

_____

It is clear that the mourning time for the lost knights is over, Yeosang sees how the airs have changed from the moment he enters the feast hall for dinner. Everything seems as if he has invaded a whole different universe and he has to take a second glance across the mass to confirm what he sees is the truth. His eyes also tell him that he is late to enter and that the sounds of cheers have been going on for a good time already. Someone takes his shoulder and Yeosang swirls around to face the bubbly blonde knight who grins at him. At first, Yeosang does not notice his fairly red dusted cheeks, but when he does, he can not help but blush himself at the action of his other hand suddenly moving up his back.

Somehow, this celebration has brought women to the feast hall as well, who ordinarily never share their meals with the knights. They are spread around multiple tables, probably where they wish, but Yeosang's eyes do not fail to see what subtle movements from some of the men hide in the shadows.

"Sit down and have your meal! You must feel an unpleasant hunger," San says while he pushes the younger down on the wooden furniture. Empty mugs knock around, and Yeosang stirs at the sudden sound as he turns to look at San who shuffles around with the items and food filling the table.

He places a clean wooden plate in front of Yeosang and smiles, "Here, use this."

Yeosang shows his gratitude by nodding and he starts to fill the plate with the prepared dishes. He sees the many tall cans of liquids standing staggered in between, and he raises a brow and stops moving, instead glances down along the table.

"Have you tasted mead before? Shall I fill your mug?"

The boy drifts to the side as he leans to see San looking inquiringly at him. A strong bitter-sweet breath hits him and Yeosang has to keep himself from peeking down at San's lips when he graces them with his tongue. His blonde curls touch his eyes a bit.

"Mead?" Yeosang finds himself repeating with a thin voice that has him wondering if San even hears it.

San's eyes glint in the light from the candles along the wooden surface, "Intoxicants licurs, have you not had those before?"

He shakes his head when he knows what San is talking about. This is the first time Yeosang has been offered strong waters - something his father never has allowed him to, as he believes that the act would be rather sinning than something enjoyable.

"Oh, then this should be your first!"

San grabs one of the tall cans and starts filling one of the empty mugs. In the middle of his motion, he stops and downs what was left in his own mug, before filling that one as well. Yeosang can feel how an uneasy feeling settles down under his skin when he can smell the aroma of the liquor placed beside his plate. The knight gestures for him to take the cup.

"Try taste it," he tells him with an inevitable toothy smile that could melt hearts.

Yeosang carefully traces his fingers around the mug as he hopes not to spill any because of their shakiness. His mind is screaming as they collide with thoughts of how he should not do this. He is fully aware of strong liquid's aims, and stories he has heard all retell inferior experiences with those drinks. But he cannot say no, not when San sits there with his pretty rose-red cheeks and awaits him to taste the mead that he so nicely has bestowed him. Yeosang only wants to be kind, and so he lifts the mug to his lips and takes a sip. Then he wishes he had not.

For a moment he lets the sweetness sweep around his tongue. It is strong in its taste and even though he only took a tiny sip, it gives him a full mouthfeel with the flavor of honey. Yeosang swallows the drink in delight and he tells San how he thinks of its taste.

Throughout the evening, his cup is filled and emptied more than a couple of times. Regardless of his beginning slurring sight, he observes how the mood has changed. The giddy instruments there have been played in the corner, seem to be forgotten and some men have left with their arms tangled around some woman, others simply just out of their drunken state. Yeosang is leaning his head against his hand, as San keeps rambling nonsense with his pupils wide and hands retelling his words. On this point, Yeosang has given up on trying to understand what the knight means when he breaks out into a fit of giggles again. The boy has difficulty with appraising how drunk the blonde man is and flutters with his eyes when another sentence is brought upon him.

"Myay I'leave yu for 'momeént, 'reciuss!" San mumbles before getting up from his seat and stumbling away from the tables at legs that look as if he tries to avoid stepping on stones with bare feet.

"Sure," but Yeosang knows that San never hears him comply.

A sigh leaves his lips and he lets his eyes close when he feels the world sway around him. His action is short-lived, and a pull on his mind has him opening them again of pure intuition. The wax light sitting closest to his seat has burned down, and therefore the figure he sees is only dimly lit. The man avoids any questions before he grabs Yeosang's arm and pulls them both away from the feast hall that has turned into a drunken slumber.

Gradually as the stranger has them egressing the building, the lukewarm summer night embraces his being with the freshness needed to realize who actually is bringing him somewhere else; seemingly a place away from any other drunken knight.

"Jongho!" he exclaims as the fit outline is nothing to be false at.

The knight turns his head slightly to give him a smile, but words not a single word as they cross the apple tree by the stables. The missing verbal answer has Yeosang whining at the loss, but nevertheless letting Jongho take him to wherever in the darkness. It crosses his mind that this seems suspiciously a lot like the first time the knight dragged him away from the fortress, and the thought has a strike of fear erupting inside of him. But Yeosang says nothing when they already stand by the gathering of old oaks. Jongho must have led him the rest of the way to the big stones they sat on last time as well because he does not remember moving that last way. The pitch-black sky is filled with myriads of shining stars and Yeosang could count them all, even though they sit hidden underneath the huge old trees.

The strong waters seethe in his body, and Yeosang moves around to look at the Knights Templar. Then he stares. There is just something about Jongho that makes him different from everyone else, Yeosang believes, but at this given time, his rational mind is blurred with dizziness, and he finds himself moving without thinking. His hand lands on the man's thigh, and he watches how those hunting eyes suddenly collide with his own. His head is suddenly filled with every little idea or want that he has gotten around Jongho from the very first time they met, and they keep growing for every passing moment.

Yeosang is not sure of why he does it, but he brings his other hand to rest securely around the knight's arm before moving to straddle him. The boy does only see the way a sudden shock paints the man's eyes before his eyes flicker down across his fair skin to those filled lips. Jongho is tempting him - ever more than before, and the awaiting jolts ignite when he can feel those strong hands wrap around his waist. Yeosang moves forward.

The wind is delightful, and Jongho's breath smells of bitterness that he just desires to whirl into a sweetness. Slowly, he feels the fingers around him move him closer, while their subtle rubs make him urge further, and he has to remove his hand on the knight's thigh to not sit on it. Yeosang locks his feet on the back of the knight, and he brings the unoccupied hand to hold around Jongho's backhead as to steady himself. They are close and he is breathing the other's air that makes him wordless. He knows that Jongho is intoxicated, but how much will he never know. His fingers lightly dance above his skin until they find Jongho's warm cheek they still cup around, and he cannot keep himself from pulling certainly.

And Yeosang leans in to kiss the Knights Templar.

Even though this is far from his first kiss, the boy can still hear how loud his heart throbs against his insides at the pure act of only resting his lips against Jongho's. He closes his eyes while he finds unforeseen tranquility from the other that his soul keeps in memory. His body and mind fall into a wave of peace when he senses all the touches he is given from another human.

Jongho kisses him, and the sudden lip movement has Yeosang letting out a short gasp, as his chest hums in relish. His stomach reels around while he strains his fingers to the knight's dark locks of hair and pushes his lips closer to those sensing movements. Teasingly, Yeosang feels the other's hands tugging at the fabric where they hold around his waist, and the material slowly glides up from his trousers. He can tell that Jongho savors the touch of raw skin when a tongue slides past his lips to taste the lasting of the sweet liquid. Yeosang works himself up the knight's thighs, causing him to spire over him and blush to grow in his face. The sound of Jongho's groan repeats itself again and again in his head until the heat has him forgetting why he is here. Yeosang moves his hips again, feeling as the knight runs his hand up his chest underneath his thin shirt and their tongues stutter around each other. When he finds Jongho's groin buckle up against his clothed crotch, Yeosang stills his movement and retreats from the kiss to look at the other.

His one blue iris has turned into admiring airspace filled with shining stars that reflect what state of drunken mind he stays in as the brown one has darkened into the sins of the acts. Yeosang has always admired eyes the most, of the trueness of their stories they tell and now he will never stop finding Jongho's worshipping. His hungry heart throws him on waters he can never be saved from, and he lets himself sink deeper down to the only few words that have him go weak.

"Do not stop."

Yeosang's breath hitches at the lips that touch his warm neck with a tenderness that not even Wooyoung can do. The boy is unsure if it is the liquid swimming in his blood that has him feeling all those tinglings, but he forgets his wonders when his hips start moving by themselves again. Jongho's body is so manly, that he drools of the swelling muscles rippling underneath his palms every time his tense crotch rubs against Jongho's with no mercy at all. He listens to a groan echoing from his own throat when he feels Jongho's light kisses trail down to his collarbones and Yeosang fumbles with a hand to loosen the strings in the chest piece of his shirt. His arms are around the knight's bulky frame, fingers touching his strong back muscles through the fabric as he leans the side of his head against Jongho's. Heavy breathing blends with his low moans, as the knight works him addictively higher to a point where he cannot turn back again.

"J-jongho," the boy mewls before the man removes his lips from the hot skin and takes Yeosang's swollen ones in between his own with fingers holding around his chin.

His massaging hands going around the boy's pecs seems to fill up starvation and the lust seeps through every thrust he makes upward Yeosang's rolling crotch. The movements are rougher than before and they send blissful feelings to Yeosang's innards that make his hunger insatiable in a way he never has tried before. Jongho is attempting to deepen their shared kiss, but the sounds and quick breathings escaping their mouths make it impossible to do so. Instead, he tugs another hand to Yeosang's chest and starts groping with what feels like just the right pressure. If just another moment passes like this, Yeosang believes his heart will go through his skin and into the knight's hands.

He pulls at Jongho's belt and the strike they both feel makes him inhale sharply in response. Fabric harshly rubs against each other, and the wetness is nothing not to notice as Yeosang leaks through. Jongho keeps kissing him while he runs his hands around Yeosang's waist again as he thrusts up another time before groaning into his hot mouth and coming.

Sweat trickles down his temples while the knight seems to keep up their kissing and Yeosang tries not to think of how much he needs air and lets the other guide his lips. He opens his drowsy eyes when he feels a kiss against the corner of his mouth and hands retrieving from under his shirt, now stroking his damp hair softly. He perceives the little smile coating the knight's lips, and his worries about what has just happened, disappear before he even gets to think of them. A sigh leaves his lips gratifyingly and the boy is now resting his body against the firm chest of the knight, closing his eyes in loss of energy.

Yeosang has no sense of how long they stay like this, but when Jongho finally pulls them both to stand in the tall grass, he can feel how his cum trickles down underneath his trousers. Jongho seems to not care for his own matter, but his arms still around the boy, tells him that he cares about his issue. Without spelling any query, he bends down and lifts the boy into his arms. Yeosang is considerably smaller and much more petite than Jongho, making the weight easy for the knight to hold. Like this, he takes him back to the fortress.

The boy's sight gets blurry the more light they meet, but he feels something being wrapped around him before they enter the building. Voices of cheering others play around his ears, but when they move inside a chamber, they are gone. Yeosang lets his sight glide open a last time when Jongho kisses him lightly on the lips and then on the cheek, grinning widely. Those acts alone make him think that he really must be dreaming - perhaps even slipping into the other world. It surely must be because of the mead that San has been offering.

"Sleep well, Yeosang."

His eyes close to the world that is spinning around him, and the imagination of the Knights Templar, Choi Jongho, having his arms securely brought around his being.

⚔︎