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When Cale drinks, it's with someone nearby. He has no need to drink alone really, because it's for a performance.
Ever since learning of the brand Elves Blood-- an extremely potent alcoholic wine-- he made sure to always keep a bottle. Raon held on to it well.
"Choi Han," Cale leans his chin on his fist, staring. "Have a drink with me."
His knight coughs and looks away, shuffling his feet where he stands by the door.
"Cale-nim, I would, but…" Choi Han eyes the bottle of Elves Blood on the table. "My tolerance isn't much."
Cale hums. It made sense, since Choi Han's body aged so slowly, he was effectively still 17. He turns to Ron. "Fetch a light wine from the kithen. Something sweet."
Ron's gaze lingers on Choi Han for a moment before bowing his head.
"Yes, young master Cale."
It was a brief response that fit Ron's character. He didn't idle long before exiting the room.
Choi Han finally settles in the chair across from Cale, spine stiff and ramrod straight.
They all knew that Cale could get drunk off of Elves Blood— but that was only because Tasha let it slip to Ron, and Ron mentioned it near Raon, who confidently spoke about hiding away the beverage Cale was weak to. Cale had yet to indulge himself in their presence yet; only keeping it on hand. It was surprising that Choi Han would be his first— second, choice to see Cale in such a state. Besides the crown prince, of course.
Ron arrives with two wine glasses and a bottle of something expensive looking: lined with gold foil and tastefully encrusted with gems. Not enough to be obnoxious, just enough to be a sign of wealth, as was the spending tastes of the rich. Still, it was clearly a good bottle of wine.
Choi Han calms his nerves as Ron pours the wine glass in front of him half fulll. It was slightly translucent, purple more so than red. The fragrance was pleasant too, fruity and sweet, just as Cale had requested.
On the other side the butler's skillful hand pours Cale's glass with a deep red wine, its color being deceiving to its depth. It almost seemed like it would suck you in and devour you if given the chance. Choi Han could smell it all the way across the table due to his sharp senses. It was bitter and acrid compared to his own yet it relayed a distinct and unique sweetness without fail.
Cale puts the lip of the glass to his mouth without hesitation, and his top lip becomes stained as the liquid surges onto his tongue. It tastes exactly the same as last time; the trait of a good manufacturer. He swallows and breathes, wondering if the way his body relaxes is because the alcohol working quickly or because of a placebo effect.
Choi Han fiddles with the stem of his wine glass, not really drinking so much as fidgeting. Without his sword— which Cale had instructed him to leave on the floor— he couldn't rely on the steady weight of it by his side.
Cale sips on his wine for a moment— not thinking about anything. His mind grows hazy and limbs weaken, and he begins to drift away from his partner sitting on the other end of the table. Not actually; he wouldn't ignore the person he invited, but his awareness is not as astute as normal.
Choi Han decides to start drinking from his cup too. He lacks the effortless grace that Cale seems to exude even though he, too, doesn't have a past in noble etiquette. No, he grabs onto the widest part of the glass with his hand and holds it crudely. He would've been more comfortable with a whiskey glass, or something solid and wide without as many variations to hold it from.
Though he could have copied Cale— who delicately wields the stem of the glass with confidence— he does what makes him comfortable in this moment. He isn't someone who knows how to delicately hold anything other than Cale and even that is done fervently. A wine stem would probably break if he had any less control than he did.
"Do you like it?" Cale prompts. His eyes are beginning to fog. Despite that, his words come out as clearly as they do when he's sober.
"It's… nice." Choi Han decides.
The taste is mellow and sweet, with hints of something oaky, giving it a subtle aroma of nature. Still, the cup settles more easily in his hands than against his lips or on the table.
"You haven't drank since arriving in this world, have you?"
"No," he corrects. "I've drank with the vice captain and his subordinates in the Henituse estate before."
"Mm," Cale hums, "What did you drink?"
"Beer. Rum too, I think."
"Did you like it?"
"… I didn't." He didn't like the taste of it. He didn't really like hanging out with them, either, but it was okay. He knew that his emotions weren't all there when he had drank with them, which is why he had felt disconnected from the happy atmosphere. He had appreciated that they chose to include him.
"Next time you want to drink, come to me or Ron." Cale swirls his dark red drink in his glass, staring into it instead of at Choi Han. "You can take some wine from the cellar again, like today."
Choi Han smiles, sipping at his wine, knowing that what he actually likes more than the wine is drinking with Cale.
"Yes, Cale-nim."
Satisfied, Cale breathes out hot air and sets his glass on the table. He had already managed to drink half of it by the time he realized what he had done— on account of speaking lightly, allowing him to unconsciously sip on it in the absence of conversation.
The flush in his face was nothing compared to the growing heat in his stomach from the warm alcohol.
"You deserved a better first drink." The words spill from his mouth on accident. He was just wishing that Choi Han didn't have to drink bad tasting alcohol for his first time. He was over a century old, yet he ended up drinking cheap alcohol with the knights in the county. The experience must've soured his view of drinking.
"Do you like drinking, Cale-nim?"
Choi Han takes the opportunity to ask.
"Well… I don't dislike it." Cale stares into his wine. He refrains from consuming the rest of the contents. It tasted good and felt good, and he was subconsciously drawn towards it. Still, he hadn't taken the bottle out until now. It was because he didn't care a lot about alcohol.
"Alcohol is… not effective, for me." He drags his finger along the rim, being careful not to lose control of his weak arm and knock the glass over. "While others forget the night before, I always remember. So it's difficult to act like nothing happened."
He swallows the saliva in his mouth. The lingering taste of wine, bitter and a little sour, settles on his tongue more firmly. The smell in his cup is alluring but he taps his fingers on the table and looks up at Choi Han instead.
"I can always remember the feeling of dizziness, the flashing lights and heavy music, even the sticky residue on the bottom of my shoe that stuck against the floor every time I took a step."
"When was this?"
"Company event," he explains simply. "They wanted to see what I was like at a party. Even an apocalyptic party."
Choi Jung Soo had been hung off his arm, speaking incoherently under the loud speakers on the dance floor, and Lee Soo Hyuk was observing them both from his spot at the bar. The event was made hastily, an attempt to create a sense of normalcy to cope with the death looming over their heads. Cale didn't know if it worked, in the end, and all he got by the end was a headache and a drunk Choi Jung Soo in his lap. Lee Soo Hyuk took a picture with the flash on.
Cale always remembered everything, no matter what.
So he didn't like drinking.
"Oh," Choi Han gasps quietly, "I know that. It's in the memories I received from Jung Soo."
"Is it?" Cale looks down at his glass. The red liquid tinted purple shines with a glossy finish. It was difficult to even call it wine with how dark and smooth it is.
He picks it up and lets it slide over his tongue. Instead of swallowing, he holds the sweetness in his mouth, savoring the taste. Knowing that when he lets it go, his mind will grow a little more hazy. A little more fuzzy.
Choi Han says softly.
"He was happy."
Cale hears that, and as if he weren't listening, swallows the alcohol, expression neutral.
"Right."
It was right. He had been happy. Choi Jung Soo, and…
He takes another sip. It falls down his throat and warms his stomach.
His flush deepens. The glass becomes a little more empty.
"Cale-nim, can I ask a question?"
At that, Cale pauses. Closing his eyes, he sets the base on the table with a 'clack."
"Yes."
"Do you ever want to… go back? If you could."
A Record plays in front of his eyes. The memory of the day in the maze, when he dreamed of his worst fear. Coming back to the company, thinking everything that had happened was nothing but an illusion.
It was too late to imagine a world where this wasn't his reality and first priority.
"Would you?" Instead of answering, he reflects the question back.
"I wouldn't."
Choi Han had already come to terms with this. For him, it was also his reality. Time had changed them both, and it was impossible to go back to how it was.
Cale blinks slowly. His mind sways with memories and Records.
He gets the urge to pour the rest of his wine on the floor. If it would break the replaying Records.
So he tips the glass over the edge of the table and lets it fall, red as blood, purple tinged but only just so.
It falls in a cascade and paints the wooden floor with a familiar color.
Blood is something that just can't seem to stay inside him. The frustration burns in him, deep in his stomach and congealing in his lungs, a fire that fights to suffocate him in all of his thoughts. He can't just drink and swallow the blood which he coughs, he can't swallow the wine and savor the taste. Whether it be his life force or wine, it pours out of him endlessly.
Choi Han calls his name in confusion but Cale stares at the fountain, the stem of the glass connected to his fingers like an IV and draining him of his blood. He drains the cup of all its contents.
"Choi Han." His name come out a little slurred, a little broken.
Choi Han had stood up at some point in his worry.
"I don't think about what if's."
The stem of the glass, thin and delicate like his pale wrists— where blue veins revealed themselves behind the translucent skin— remained between his fingers mysteriously. It was strange. He had always been used to losing everything, no matter how hard he held onto it. Yet in this world, no one leaves him even when he opens the door for them.
Just like the wine glass.
It remained in his hand even when he knew it should fall.
An impulse filled him at every moment that he held onto the glass, which had not fallen from his fingers, telling him to let go. If he let go before it fell, he would be the one that let it shatter. Not due to his incompetence but because he allowed it to.
The heavy end of the glass angles to the floor, tilted downward from when he emptied his drink. The cup's center of gravity was naturally inclined away from his hand, but he managed to hold it. Even though it was heavy and his hand was weak, and his mind fading.
He knew that it shouldn't be in his hand.
So his fingers opened up from where he held the stem and it toppled from its stable position in the air.
The natural event that should've occurred afterward would've been a crash, a shattering of glass so impactful it would be impossible to mend. It would be broken into so many tiny pieces that it could never be put back together again— a predictable outcome. A wine glass, thin and inflexible, would never beat the hard wooden floor.
The glass found its way into someone else's hand instead.
"Cale-nim! Are you okay? Why did you let go?"
The glass is put back on the table. Choi Han steps into the blood on the floor without caring and holds onto his hand.
"…" Cale exhales.
His breathe is hot. He swallows the saliva in his mouth and finds it dry.
He asks.
"Should I hold onto it?"
He didn't specify what he should be holding onto. However, his hand was slightly gripping Choi Han's hand with a weak strength. His eyes were not on the glass but on their hands together.
"Am I allowed to hold it? Even when it should fall?"
He wanted to ask this question.
It burned his throat more than the wine, or any alcohol he had ever drank.
"It's always fallen, no matter what I did. It fell even when I should've been the one to fall. Now that I am holding something else, should I let it go?"
His hand trembled in Choi Han's palm. Cale didn't look at Choi Han's expression and just looked at his weak hand, which couldn't hold the wine glass without wanting to let go.
Choi Han bites his lip. Cale doesn't know what he looks like.
His face is flush but his lips are pale, with apathetic eyes that had lost their light. Even when he was holding the wine glass, he seemed scared of it falling, yet he was the one who let it go.
Just like how he always pushes people away.
Choi Han isn't good with words, but he feels the need to say something.
He tries to put strength in his voice. "You can hold it, Cale-nim."
Even though he had said something simple and abstract, Cale's eyes shake with insecurity and surprise. He would never let himself be seen like this in a normal scenario. Maybe he had wanted to drink because he wanted this reassurance, even if he didn't know it himself.
"… and if you can't," He continues carefully, "Then we'll help you hold onto it. So you never have to let go again."
The empty wine glass, stained red with a hint of purple, remains on the table as a proof of this will.
"So… tell me when you're too weak to hold onto it. We can hold it together."
Cale raises his eyes to look into Choi Han's obsidian eyes, reflective and as sharp as volcanic glass, but soft to Cale alone.
Cale blinks slowly.
He raises his other hand and lays it on top of that black hair. Choi Han was foolishly kneeling in the spilled wine on the floor like it didn't matter if his clothes got stained.
"… Sure."
His voice comes out sober and serious and Choi Han blinks in surprise.
The moment passes, just like that.
Cale's eyes unfocus again?and the next time he speaks he slurs his words together a little.
"But its too bad that the wine got wasted."
His face warm, Cale removes his hand from Choi Han's head and lays down on the table, closing his eyes. The cold wood felt nice against his forehead.
"Hyung— I mean, his highness said to not break any more bottles… because it's expensive. Yet I just… poured it on the floor."
"Doesn't Cale-nim have a lot of money though?"
"I can only get it through the prince… The producer is particular about who he sells it to."
Cake grumbles. "Don't they know who I am?"
Choi Han smiles and pats Cale's shoulder. "Wouldn't they make you some wine if you exposed your identity?"
"… Annoying." He swears. "They'd definitely be annoying, I can tell."
"You can tell?"
"Stupid chill…" he mumbles vaguely. The truth was, he would always get a bad feeling when he wanted to meet the producer of the wine. He would also get a chill on the back of his neck and head, so he accepted the wine from the crown prince without making a big deal about it.
Choi Han hears Cale talk about the 'chill' and worries.
"Are you cold?" He takes off his cloak, determined to give it to Cale, but stops when he notices the wet spot on the bottom, from where he had been kneeling in the puddle. He silently puts the cloak back on. He wouldn't stain Cale's clothes with the wine.
"No, 'm hot." His words come out muffled as he rubs his cheek on the cold table. "Stupid wine… stupid hyung— huu, crown prince."
He hadn't drank as much as last time— a fourth of his cup ending tragically on the floor— but he was still unpleasantly warm. When he made it to the bed with Alberu, he had wanted to remove his outer shirt at least, but his arms wouldn't cooperate.
They likely wouldn't cooperate today either.
Ron was outside the door, but it was too much to make him come in here and see the chaos.
"Choi Han…" He raises his head, a pink mark on his cheek from pressing it against the table. The next words that come out of his mouth stop Choi Han in his tracks. "Would you take my shirt off?"
Choi Han suddenly wished he had drank more of his wine. Was it too late to top off his wine glass and chug it?
"… Of course, Cale-nim." He wasn't able to in the end.
Cale turned sideways in his chair, leaning his temple against the tall wooden back. His mind swayed with the movement. The longer the alcohol was in his system, the stronger it became, even thought it was already incredibly strong. He hadn't noticed it when drinking with Alberu but he had gotten progressively more drunk through the night, even after he had finished his glass.
The seat, which was plush and comfortable, made his legs grow numb.
"I'll unbutton your vest now."
Choi Han had to get closer to Cale to reach the buttons. Cale quietly stared at him while he fumbled with his hands, using too little force to pull the fabric. He tugged at it only for the fabric to rip instead.
"It's okay." Cale says before Choi Han can apologize. It seemed that even though he was drunk and his eyes were pinned on his face, he was still carefully monitoring his movements. "Keep going."
It's not like Cale was worried about the clothes. He just wanted it off— even if he had to convince Choi Han to tear it apart if he couldn't take it off carefully.
Choi Han ended up undoing all of the buttons with only four casualties.
"Good job."
He compliments the knight absentmindedly. It didn't occur to him that Choi Han was making mistakes with his strength that he usually doesn't. He just thought that, for someone struggling to control his strength, it was impressive that he only ripped four buttons.
Making sure to breathe— and hoping Cale blames the alcohol for the slight blush in his cheeks(and maybe it was)—he slides his hand between Cale's head and the chair, letting him lean into it so that his shoulder isn't pressed against the back of the chair. Choi Han starts to extract his arms from the vest.
Cale's cheeks are numb, so he doesn't mind the warmth of the palm cradling his face. His neck has lost its strength now, so he relaxes into that hand, unaware of his wrecked appearance.
It doesn't make sense for Choi Han to be holding Cale's face, one arm removed from his vest and the other falling from his shoulder. Cale uses his calm but distant eyes to stare into Choi Han's face, and it has always been impossible to tell what he's thinking, but it's even more so at this moment, when his eyes seem to be full of only Choi Han. Was he also like this with Alberu? He felt sympathy for his student, who would be on the other end of this intense gaze. At the same time, Choi Han felt himself relishing in the attention.
He slips the last of the vest off, leaving Cale in a white shirt complete with a ruffled front. It looks thin, but Cale makes the message clear by raising his arms in the air that the shirt has to go as well.
"…"
Choi Han wisely keeps his silence. He desperately wished to negotiate with the drunk red head, however he sees those thin arms sway in the air, resembling trees in a storm and quickly executes the idea.
"Cale-nim, I have to undo the knot in the back of your shirt first." He carefully grabs Cale's hands and lowers them into his lap.
Cale looks upset at that. For a moment, Choi Han thinks he's going to take back his request, but Cale nods with a heavy head and takes away all hope of getting out of undressing him.
Choi Han ends up tearing the thin strings tying off Cale's shirt and it all comes undone, loosening Cale's shirt beyond what he had intended and allowing the shirt to slip off of the young masters shoulder, exposing flushed, pink skin.
Choi Han fumbles. He rips the shirt almost in half in his attempt to keep it on Cale.
Then, the cherry on the cake, Cale raises his arms in wait for Choi Han to take it off completely.
Choi Han has never, never, been so red in the face. This…
He bites his lip and takes the bottom of Cale's shirt into his hands, pulling it over his head in a seamless motion. It was incredibly easy due to the torn manner it was already in.
Then he promptly sinks to his knees as if falling and covers his face at the sight of Cale's pale back, neck covered in a red blush and muscles flexing as he brings his arms down, and turning to check on Choi Han when he suddenly becomes quiet.
"…?"
"… Cale-nim," he finally manages, pitifully looking up at Cale's questioning eyes. "Do you really need to go without a shirt?"
Cale blinks slowly. "But… Choi Han," languidly speaking, he turns his body to face him. Revealing to Choi Han the expanse of his chest. "You ripped my shirt. I can't put it on anymore."
Choi Han screams internally. Yes, this was his fault. It was all his fault, and this is his punishment.
"I could… get you another one."
Cale breathes out and finds the air to be uncomfortably hot still.
"In a minute, then." He bows the back of his head onto his chair. "I'm still… too warm."
Choi Han could tell— Cale was flushed down to his collarbone and red to the tips of his ears, looking similar in shade to his long red hair. It made Choi Han scream, again, but louder.
Choi Han stands up suddenly and turns to Cale's closet.
"I'll get you a shirt then and call Ron—"
He stops. Cale's weak hand managed to grab onto the edge of his cloak at the last moment, fingers holding on stubbornly even when they get stained in the aftermath of when Choi Han kneeled in wine.
"Wait," and if there was a chance that Choi Han hadn't already been driven to madness then the sight of Cale holding desperately to his cloak, halfway off of his chair and half dazed eyes pointedly staring at him with all of the intensity that they can muster— then he had no choice but to spiral into it as soon as he did.
"You should finish the wine in your cup, first."
Choi Han is sure that Cale said something after that, but it gets lost as he marches to the table, slams the last of the wine in his glass, and for good measure he chugs the rest of the bottle too.
"…"
Cale wants to frown at that. Did Choi Han get sick of drinking with him? Or did he just really like the wine?
Choi Han blushes furiously as he wipes the trickle of purple wine from his lip, suddenly wishing he hadn't been given such a weak alcohol. Next time he drinks with Cale he would make sure to take a sip of that Elves Blood. He was halfway in his mind to licking it off the floor to erase the memory of Cale holding onto him.
"I'll go get you a shirt now Cale-nim." This time Choi Han to too far from the drunk red head to be caught. He makes sure to grab a light but concealing shirt, and carefully fits it over Cale's head while trying to submerge himself in the faint haze brought about by the entire bottle of wine that he drank.
Cale fits into the shirt well, not needing anything more to fasten it, which Choi Han is grateful for since he's sure that if he had had to tie a knot then he would be soon visiting the closet again for another shirt.
Cale tugs at the fabric, soft and sand colored, and nods his head.
"This… is good."
He nods his head again, it tips backwards onto the chair, and his eyes shut.
The sound of quiet breathing fills the room.
Choi Han, finally drunk enough to not overthink, carries Cale to his bed and tucks him under the blanket. Then he leaves the room and heads to the training ground.
In the morning, the next person to stumble upon the training ground will immediately report to Deruth that a monster must have come and destroyed it.
A simple investigation reveals the culprit, who is forgiven with ease, Deruth saying that the training grounds needed to be refurbished anyway, and to not worry about it.
The day after, Choi Han runs into a wall when he sees Cale's shirt lift ever so slightly, revealing a sliver of skin.