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matter of confidence

Summary:

"Ryeonju-nim," Gamyung said, blocking his way with his hand. "Your pockets."

"They're empty, Gamyung-ah," Ilso smiled, taking a step toward the other's hand, pressing it to his chest.

Notes:

Written for the fic secret santa somewhere in the autumn

Work Text:

Upon learning that Ilso had returned from the city, where he had been wandering in disguise, Gamyung immediately nodded to the servant who had carried out his errand and headed in the direction his master had returned into his mansion. Greeting took precedence over other pressing matters, at least when Gamyung himself was still at the base and not traveling on business.

For many reasons.

First, he greeted his master at the door, like the faithful dog he is.

Second...

"Ryeonju-nim," Gamyung blocked his way with his hand. "Your pockets."

"They're empty, Gamyung-ah," Ilso smiled, stepping toward the other's hand, pressing it to his chest.

He frowned, removing his hand from the other man's chest and stepping forward, blocking the way with his entire body. If he can't get any cooperation, he has no choice but...

"Then you won't mind if I search you?" he says politely, looking down at the other's numerous pockets.

"Gamyung-ah, just say you want to undress me—you don't need such silly excuses," Ilso purrs in his ear, leaning in close.

His hands clench into fists. Again, he's evading the question. Again, he's teasing, knowing that Gamyung won't dare accept the invitation. Again, he's looking at him like prey, eager to be torn apart and consumed, unbecoming of his rank.

"Ryeonju-nim," he repeats, "you won't mind if I search you? Stealing is unbecoming of your status. You can openly take whatever you like.

Ilso pulls away abruptly, flapping his heavy, richly embroidered sleeve in a displeased gesture. The other man's eyes reveal hurt, disappointment... genuine pain. This fuels his own guilt, the fear of doing something irreparable with his stubbornness and suspicions.

"Gamyuns, how low do you think of me?" Ilso squints dangerously.

"...Ryeonju-nim," he begins, but trails off at the other man's gaze.

"Do you really think I'm interested in such a low pastime as stealing from the common people? Who wouldn't be able to fight me back even if they noticed?"

Gamyung, despite the growing guilt that consumes him, meets the heated gaze, standing his ground.

"Ryeonju-nim, if that's the case, then you have nothing to hide."

"It's not a question of whether I'm hiding something, but rather what you're so persistently trying to verify!" Ilso waves his sleeve. "It's a matter of trust! And apparently, you don't trust me at all!"

And he walks away, past Gamyung, who's frozen by these words, toward his chambers.

A matter of trust, right?

Gamyung sighs heavily. Despite all the time they'd spent together, there were things he couldn't confide in his master about. As powerful, untouchable in his plans, and with an intellect far beyond mere mortals, Ilso was, there was something... childishly mischievous about him. A mind bored by the absence of someone worthy in everyday life invents new challenges and achievements.

And stealing is one of them. So is using excessive amounts of opium with servants. So is taking long baths. So is wearing makeup and jewelry. So is seducing Gamyung, whether successful or not.

Unfortunately, he's a simple man, and he can't always resist the base desire to touch his master, to touch someone so great that he will one day conquer all the central plains, so attractive, like the ideal of a man in a murim, so... perfect. He tries honestly, but his heart has long since been given to the same one to whom his loyalty lies—his master. Ilso.

...

He shouldn't have questioned other person's motives. He can't even touch the level at which his master thinks. He shouldn't have undermined the trust forged in blood and tears with his suspicions, which were probably unfounded. Has he ever caught Ilso stealing or engaging in other unworthy activities? Have his fears and suspicions ever been confirmed?

Gamyung needs to apologize.

For the broken trust, for all his doubts, for the ruined mood, after all. After all, Ilso had returned in such high spirits that he was practically glowing with contentment. When had he last been so relaxed and happy?

His heart was racing, urging him to go to the kitchen, grab a kettle and cups, make some tea, and immediately rush to the other's door. Holding a tray of tea and small pastries he'd grabbed from the kitchen with one hand, Gamyung opens the sliding door, decorated with carved patterns and paintings.

Quickly, not giving himself time to change his mind or ponder, not preparing words of apology, but letting them flow from his heart. Gamyung takes a deep breath, looks up from the floor, and freezes.

Trinkets on the table.

He hadn't seen them before.

Ilso looks at him with wide eyes, frozen, his hand in his pocket. Slowly, very slowly, the hand removes a small pendant of pure, almost transparent jade and places it on the table, among the other small treasures.

Gamyung looks.

He looks at the golden tray on his hand, at the golden Buddha statue on the other's table. At the ceramic bowls, at the elegant silver hairpin. At the teapot filled with Ilso's favorite tea, at the pendant with a portrait carved in stone. At his attempt to be an understanding right hand, at the reality the world presented to him.

"Gamyung-ah... I didn't steal from ordinary people," Ilso says, smiling proudly as he continues to lay things out on the table.

"Then where did this come from?" He gestures grimly at the loot.

"From martial artists, of course! Just small trophies after I defeated them. You should have known how pitifully they resisted!"

Gamyung closes his eyes.

Yes. Definitely. He shouldn't have apologized. He shouldn't have come here at all, so as not to ruin the image of the majestic Ryeonju-nim. So as not to allow himself to doubt the other's genius. Everyone has strange pastimes; isn't collecting trophies normal in the world of Murim? So Ilso's current hobby is no different.

Gamyung opens his eyes wearily.

"Ryeonju-nim, why are you hiding your loo... I mean, your trophies?"

"Gamyung-Gamyung," Ilso begins proudly, "You need to know when to boast about your achievements and when to hide them. I didn't reveal my identity when I went out into the city. Isn't defeat by an unknown warrior who hasn't yet made a name for himself more painful than defeat by the Head of the Ten Thousand Men Clan?"

"Your wisdom knows no bounds," Gamyung replies halfheartedly, still holding the tea in his hands.

"Gamyung-ah," Ilso smiles contentedly, "Come in and share this joy of victory with me. We need to drink the tea you brought before it gets cold! I'll tell you about every one of my victories in great detail!"