SBB 2016 Entry #12: The Bloom of Life (4/4)
Title: The Bloom of Life
Pairing: Minho/Key
Rating: NC-17 overall
Genre: fantasy!au, romance, adventure
Final Word Count: 24,523 overall
PART FOUR
“She adores you, Minho!” Kibum gushed, tugging Minho into his chambers, delight on each feature of his face. “I’m so glad!”
They’d spent the whole day with the queen and the king, sharing conversation and meals well into the evening. The queen enjoyed hearing the tale of the dragon Minho had fought and hung onto every detail he could offer her. Soon they were watching her sketch the creature onto parchment with charcoal, her imagination sparking across the page. She was incredibly talented and Minho found himself mesmerised with the way she worked with the black substance to create an image so close to what he described that he half expected the dragon to fly from the parchment.
When they’d excused themselves, the queen had given them such a knowing look that it had made Minho blush even though Kibum hadn’t shown any sign of noticing the way his mother had gazed upon them, excitedly dashing from the room.
Minho chuckled. “Are you sure she wasn’t just being polite to your “friend”?” He asked, liking how Kibum stared at him in disbelief.
“Minho, you’re an idiot and you obviously don’t know my mother.” Kibum stated.
“Well, no, I only just met her today. How could I know her?” He asked, taking in the stunned expression on Kibum’s face as he realised it was the truth. “But it doesn’t matter. As long as she doesn’t hate me then I can get by.”
“No, no, you don’t understand.” Kibum said to him, hands on Minho’s shoulders. “My mother is very picky about who I spend time with. As a child she wouldn’t let me spend too much time with children who could be a bad influence on me. She is a little more lenient now, but she’d still make it clear she was unimpressed with you in some way.” He grinned giddily. “And she made it clear that even she wants to see you more often!” He launched into Minho’s arms, almost knocking the taller man over. “It means I don’t have to limit my time with you.” He added as he nuzzled against Minho’s shoulder.
Minho sighed, holding Kibum close to him. This man… he was amazing. “Not that it would have stopped you.”
“Yes, but I don’t have to hide it from her which means I can hold your hands in the hallway and invite you to family meals. I can keep this in the open instead of hiding it away.” Kibum looked up at Minho, smiling brightly. Minho’s heart gave a leap. “Because you don’t deserve to be hidden away, and neither does our relationship.” He said, staring into Minho’s eyes and then kissing him.
Minho made a quiet squeak of surprise, but didn’t hesitate in responding, fingers gripping at Kibum’s clothes, humming against his mouth. The kiss, as sweet as it had started, suddenly grew fierce, Kibum gripping at Minho’s grown out hair, tugging at his bottom lip with teeth, gasping out desperate breaths.
“Minho.” Kibum muttered, kissing him again and again, while he began to pull at his own clothes. “Make love to me, Minho. Please. Now.”
“Why the rush, Your Highness?” Minho muttered, managing to catch Kibum’s wrists and keeping him from undressing. He captured lips and the prince whined in annoyance, though he reciprocated the kiss, until Minho could let go of his wrists in favour of holding his waist, pulling him in and letting their hips grind, lips parting to gasp against each other’s tongues. Kibum hummed into his mouth and Minho smiled, excitement bubbling in his chest. He couldn’t help it.
He loved the prince. He was actually in love with him.
Even after everything they had already done, the ways they had touched and kissed and bit and screamed together, this time… it was something else. Every inch of his skin wanted to sing and rejoice, his heart soaring, his mind ready to explode from too many messages sending adrenaline gushing through his blood. This was no longer a game, not just touches and climax and escaping, this was the real deal. The prince and he, they would become one that night and there wasn’t a force in the world that could stop them.
Peeling the clothes from the prince’s body felt like a new experience, each new expanse of skin revealed sending more flutters to his lower abdomen, brushing with lips and fingertips over his nose, eyelids, cheeks, ears, neck, collar bones, and then teasing taut nipples, the prince arching into him with hands clinging tight to Minho’s shirt, fists clenched against his waist. The prince gasped out soft breaths, murmuring Minho’s name and his body trembling, legs buckling.
After dropping the last piece of the prince’s clothes to the floor, Minho helped the prince remove his own clothing, smiling fondly as tentative fingers brushed over his skin, tracing scars and marks new and old, marvelling at the shape of his lips, fingertips pressing against the pink toned skin.
Minho poked his tongue out, licking the fingers, startling laughter from the prince who leaned into him, his face contorted with delight, laugh loud and unbridled - it wasn’t at all the kind of laughter Minho was used to hearing from the prince, nor seeing as the prince always raised a hand to cover it in the past, but the sound was happier than any other he’d ever heard in his life. He pressed his mouth to Kibum’s, catching onto his bottom lip until the prince stopped laughing and returned the kiss, humming excitedly against his mouth.
Both completely stripped of their clothes, Minho lifted Kibum from the floor, one hand braced at his back and the other under his knees, carrying the prince to the bed. Laying him down in the middle of the bed, Minho hovered over him, mouth meeting Kibum’s, again and again, slow, sensual, precise and each one sent shivers through their bodies, Kibum’s almost visibly trembling, reaching up to angle Minho’s chin where he wanted with just the tips of his fingers. Minho complied to each of his touches, replying to each hum with one of his own, hands caressing Kibum’s waist and to his upper torso, brushing thumbs towards his chest, and then back down to Kibum’s waist and then his hips, teasing at the space where Kibum’s torso met his legs.
A shudder shook Kibum and he broke their kisses, pressing his lips down Minho’s neck and collarbone, arms circling his shoulders to press nails into Minho’s back. Heeding the wordless insistence, Minho let his fingertips trail paths across Kibum’s abdomen, feeling the muscles clench and expand, breaths hitching when he explored Kibum’s chest, as if it was the first time he’d seen it, touched it, bringing his mouth down to lick a hardened bud and then suck it between his lips, thumb circling the other. Kibum’s fingers gripped at Minho’s hair at first, gasped moans leaving his lungs, heaving his chest, but then trailed his hands down Minho’s spine, tracing the edges of his burns, sending a chill through the taller male and bringing a smirk to Kibum’s face just as he reached his ass. Without any hesitation, he reached a finger through the crack and lightly pressed against the clenching hole, causing Minho to gasp in pleasure, arching into Kibum’s touch.
“That’s how you want it?” Minho asked, his eyes rising to meet Kibum’s, seeking an honest answer. He didn’t care how it went, as long as it went.
Kibum licked his lips, but his eyes were unsure. “I don’t know. How do you prefer it?” He asked, brushing hair from Minho’s face, kissing his nose, their fervent actions calming for a moment.
“You’re my first, remember?” Minho reminded him, chuckling lightly, leaning into the hand Kibum’s used to cup his cheek. “I have no preference, as long as it’s you.”
As Kibum caressed and kissed Minho’s face he tried to think of what he did want. He’d taken it both ways before; he had no qualms in being dominated if his partner favoured it. Being with someone who didn’t mind either way was new to him.
But then… he’d not just seen Minho hard, but he’d felt the girth in his palm, touched it with his lips. He didn’t recall ever having such length in him before.
He hummed, decision made. “I know how I want it.” He confirmed, capturing Minho’s mouth, humming as a tongue met his in the middle. He didn’t let Minho ask him when they parted, only reached for the side table, opening the top drawer to reveal a lubricant made by Jinki - who had flushed when requested it, but hadn’t said a word otherwise other than to ask what flavour the prince wanted it to be - and presented it to Minho. His lover blinked at it, not sure what it was. “Use this to get me ready, Minho.”
Minho let out a low moan, fiercely kissing Kibum, taking the bottle and placing it aside, not ready to use it yet. There was a squeak of surprise from Kibum, but he slid his arms around Minho without question, returning the kiss with just as much adrenaline, moaning all the while. Then, Minho began to move down Kibum’s body, kissing along each expanse of skin, lingering on pert nipples, pausing to kiss fingertips when they reached to brush his cheeks and hair, and then finally he was at Kibum’s navel, the tip of his nose tickling the dark hair trailing downward.
He’d been here before, this close to the prince’s arousal. All the other times though, it had felt different. There hadn’t been any real feeling to it, no desire to pleasure the prince simply because he wanted him to feel good. The first time had been exhilarating, watching how the prince fell to pieces. And then it had been nothing more than a mutual need to feel something.
This time though, he could have brought Kibum to the end and left satisfied without his own release.
He kept eye contact with Kibum as he grazed nails through the wiry hair, teasing the base just enough for Kibum to whimper, and then slowly began to stroke him, barely moving his hand from the base at first until he was leisurely stroking the whole length, bringing his lips to the tip where he licked and kissed, tasting the fluid that dribbled from it. Kibum lost eye contact by the time Minho circled the head with his tongue, panting loud and hard, moans sounding like whimpers as he gripped the bedsheets, thighs pressing against Minho’s shoulders.
Minho took him in all the way, just once, then twice, but then pulled back, picking up the bottle of lubricant as he shifted his hips closer, Kibum’s thighs rising to rest on Minho’s where his legs bent by his hips.
“Remind me to return the favour later.” Kibum muttered, wanting more than anything to stroke Minho just as he’d been stroked, but his hands felt tingly, almost as if they wouldn’t be able to do any good even if he tried.
His body had never reacted to sex in this way before.
Was this how it felt when…
Minho’s lubricated fingers brushed over his entrance and whatever thought the prince had left his mind as a startled gasp left his lungs. There was a tentative way to how Minho’s hands moved, having never gotten to this point before. He was careful and perhaps a little awkward over all, but by the time he was pushing one finger inside, bringing a gasp from Kibum’s lips, his confidence had grown. Kibum continued to encourage Minho, murmuring compliments and assurances and trying not to melt completely into the sheets, especially as Minho pushed in a second finger.
Whimpering, moaning, Kibum reached down to run a hand up and down his own length, until Minho stopped him, gently brushing his hands out of the way and stroking him at an almost lazy pace, fingers of his other hand still working into Kibum again and again. It was becoming too much, Kibum’s body tingling all over. “M-Minho… I-I’m ready.” He mumbled, reaching down to touch Minho’s girth. It was hard, hot and the tip was wet when he brushed his fingers over it.
He smiled, watching as Minho quickly removed his hands from Kibum and scrambled for the lubricant to properly lather his length in it. “J-just tell me if I’m not doing it right.” Minho said, nerves kicking in even as excitement jostled his blood.
“There isn’t any real right or wrong here, Minho.” Kibum assured him, chuckling in amusement. “But, if you are going too slow I’ll be sure to let you know.”
With most of his concerns quelled, Minho carefully eased himself in with the guidance of Kibum’s fingers, his mouth falling open as he let out short, excited whimpers of pleasure, having never felt anything like it before. When he was buried to the hilt, Minho looked down at the prince and found that his eyes were scrunched shut, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted and head tilted to one side, panting out short breaths laced with pleasure. The image was exhilarating, and Minho leaned over Kibum, kissing along his exposed neck, sucking at the skin, determined to leave some kind of a mark there - something he’d always wanted to do. Kibum moaned, hand grabbing onto Minho’s hair, letting his body contract around Minho to gain a pleasured moan from his lover.
“Move, Minho.” He breathed, looping arms loosely around Minho’s shoulders. “Please move.”
Minho complied in an instant, but was ever tentative, slowly pulling back and then pushing back in, crying out a moan and relishing in the way Kibum hummed excitedly. He let out a few pants, trying to catch his breath, before he began a leisurely pace, taking his time.
Even knowing that Kibum wanted it faster didn’t mean he’d get it straight away.
Kibum bucked his hips, forcing the pace to change, startling a cry from Minho’s lips before he flipped them both over, sitting himself down on Minho. For a moment, Minho lay on his back, stunned by the image of Kibum upon him. He looked gorgeous, his long black hair waving down over his shoulders, chest smooth and heaving with each breath, neck long as his head tilted back, mouth wide open, how his body rolled, hips shifting upon Minho’s.
Reaching down, Minho brushed his fingers against Kibum’s stomach, feeling the muscles contract. “Y-you know what you’re doing, Kibum. Show me how it’s done.”
There was a look to Kibum’s eye, as if he’d just been challenged, and Minho could only gasp out in pleasure as the prince began to rock upon him until he had enough momentum to bounce, skin slapping against skin. Unable to help himself, Minho began to meet Kibum’s hips in the middle, eventually finding a rhythm that was almost too perfect.
Kibum’s cries echoed through the room, a shaky hand fumbling along his aching length, trying as hard as he might to find a climax, but eventually had to have his hand slapped away again, Minho’s taking its place. He was perhaps a little more incoherent than Kibum was, his eyelids unable to remain open for long and his mouth running dry as he continued to mirror Kibum’s moans, but his grip was still firmer.
Minho reached his end first, hips jolting out of rhythm just enough for Kibum to clench around him, brushing fingers over Minho’s nipples until he came inside of him, a grunted moan filling the room. His whole body was tingling, breaths still coming hard even as Kibum began to move up on him again, a hand joining Minho’s upon him until he too reached his peak, fluid spilling upon their hands, a few spots splattering upon Minho’s stomach.
Feeling Kibum tremor, Minho took it upon himself to catch the prince before he fell, gently easing himself out of him before laying him down, and rolling so they were facing one another. Kibum slid closer, arm slung lazily across the bow of Minho’s waist. Unashamed, Minho kissed his face, enjoying the whines the prince gave, the attempts to stop him which were more or less just playful nudges of hands on Minho’s face and chest, resulting in his hands becoming the victims of Minho’s playful pecks as well.
“You’re an idiot.” Kibum commented, laughter in his voice, even though he seemed so tired.
Minho didn’t reply, just pulled the prince even closer and closed his eyes.
He felt soft fingers brushing hair from his face, then cupping his cheek, a kiss pressing to his lips that he barely managed to respond to before he fell asleep.
. : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : .
The weeks following continued in a similar cycle. They would visit the recovering queen - who was always overjoyed at seeing Minho, doting her attention upon him and complimenting him to Kibum, if the words hadn’t been so honest Minho might have felt uncomfortable - then spend time exploring the forest as they always had before, and then each night they would retire to Kibum’s quarters and make love in the moonlight. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest of cycles to continue, but it was even harder to break. Minho craved Kibum’s touch, needed his lips and the warmth of his hands.
It was selfish of him, taking advantage of the prince’s desires, but no one else needed to know that.
But one morning, their bodies tangled in the sheets, fresh from lazy morning sex, Kibum had reached over to Minho’s face, gently brushing the tips of his fingers along his cheek, grazing his lips, smile so tired and yet still showed all the fondness in the world. The words he breathed were so soft, so heartfelt, and yet Minho felt his heart sink when it should have soared.
“Minho…” Kibum muttered. “I love you, Minho.”
The prince loved him. That couldn’t possibly be the truth; it had to be a confession from the spur of the moment, or from his tired mind. But if it was true there was only one solution and there was every chance that it would kill them both for him to do it.
What choice did he have though? The illusion that their arrangement was merely about fulfilling the need for intimacy, for sex, was broken. He could no longer pretend the feelings in his heart weren’t real, not now that the prince was saying the words he could only dream of saying back.
The prince… the prince shouldn’t love a person like him, not someone from such a humble and poor background, much less the person who came to him as a slave - another fact that had to be kept from the prince’s knowledge at all costs.
Minho slowly sat up, eyes scrunched shut as he felt the ache from having the prince inside him, ignoring Kibum’s sleepy protests as he stood from the bed and began to gather his clothes. He was pulling on his trousers when the prince sat up on the bed, rubbing tired eyes.
“Minho?” He asked, his voice so deep and so alluring Minho had to turn his eyes away to keep himself from wavering. “What’s going on? Where are you going?”
After a long moment of hesitation, Minho spoke. “I’ve made a mistake, Your Highness.”
“Kibum, my name is Kibum.” The prince reminded him, fists clenched in the sheets held up to his chest. “And that’s all you should be calling me now.”
Minho scrunched his eyes shut, remembering how often he had used that name in the past, whispering it, gasping it, screaming it, breathing it into kisses, against skin. A name he wasn’t allowed to use, let alone in such a way. “I shouldn’t call you that at all.”
“I said you could, Minho.” Kibum said, getting off the bed and - with the sheet still around his form - walked to Minho, reaching with a hesitant hand to try and touch his cheek. But his lover, the man he loved, flinched away. “Minho... what happened? What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m not... I’m not what you think I am.” Minho stated. “And that’s all you need to know. I - ” He paused, daring a look at Kibum, only to look away again. “I shouldn’t have acted how I did. Whether my feelings are true or not, you are a prince. You deserve better.”
“Minho...”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” Minho said, bowing his head in respect and making for the door, his back to the prince.
“You’re not allowed to run from me!” Kibum cried, throwing a book at Minho, but it only hit the wall beside him, falling in a mess on the floor. He stopped, glancing at the book, even as Kibum continued to shout. “You’re the only person I feel free around!”
“I’m sorry.” Minho whispered. “I really am.”
“And you’re also not allowed to hold me like you have every night and then decide it didn’t matter because guess what: it did." Kibum added, tears forming in his eyes beyond his control. “And it still does. You’re everything to me Minho! You can’t just turn your back on me now!”
Minho shook his head. “I have to. If I don’t, you’ll never move on…”
“What if that’s not what I want?” Kibum demanded. “Did you ever think to ask me that, huh?”
“Trust me, you want to move on from me, forget I even exist." Minho insisted, stepping towards the door again. “I’ll step out for a while, to let you calm down.”
“Stop right there!” Kibum hissed. To his surprise, Minho stopped, but didn’t turn around. “I don’t want you to go anywhere, do you hear me? As your prince I command you!”
The whole time Minho had been by Kibum’s side, he had never used his status as prince in such a way - jokes and teasing aside. “Your Highness...”
“Let me hug you.” Kibum said.
Reluctantly, but unable to refuse, Minho sighed and nodded. A moment later, Kibum's arms were around his torso, fingers clinging desperately to his shirt. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.
Kibum sighed, then sniffled. “Talk to me. Please. I just want to understand.”
“I-I couldn’t. You’ll drive me away.” Minho explained, shutting his eyes as he imagined it. “And that is something I could never endure.”
Kibum’s fingers tightened in his shirt and Minho could feel how shaky the prince’s breaths were becoming. “I would never drive you away. How could I ever?” He demanded, more to himself than Minho. “Only a fool would push the one they love away.”
Minho held in a chuckle. “So I suppose that does make me a fool…”
Kibum’s eyes widened, did that mean…?
“I will not let go until you explain yourself, Minho.” Kibum stated, only tightening his hold further. “What’s out there that needs you so badly?” He demanded. “Let me at least understand, so I can let you go without regretting it for the rest of my life!”
The way Kibum’s voice raised, the utter pain he was feeling, struck Minho like an arrow to the chest. He was the one causing this pain, making him second guess his own conscience. Was this really the right thing to do? He shook his head, of course it was. Kibum deserved someone of royalty, a person who was born of higher standing. Someone who wasn’t a slave. “It is better you don’t know.”
“I don’t believe that.” Kibum replied.
“I know.” He whispered, turning in Kibum’s hold and burying fingers in his hair, cradling his head against his shoulder as arms wrapped around his back and dug at his shoulder blades. “But… I can’t tell you any more than that.” Minho closed his eyes, already regretting everything he was saying.
“You’re not… you’re serious? You really want to leave?” Kibum demanded, disbelief filling his voice. “You can’t!”
“It’s not that I want to.” Minho avoided eye contact as he spoke. “I have to.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.” He was hurting Kibum so badly, he was causing this pain, but... it was better this way. “Even if I’m leaving something precious behind as a result.”
A tear made its way down Kibum’s cheek. “That’s not fair.” Kibum said. “You can’t just say things like that and then turn your back on me.”
He sighed, nodding. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry. If you were, you wouldn’t even be wanting to leave.”
“Your Highness, please!” Minho insisted, desperation in his voice. He couldn’t let the prince believe he was leaving because he didn’t want to stay. “I told you, I don’t want to leave!”
“Then why?!” Kibum demanded, his voice reaching such loud volumes he was sure to be drawing the attention of other people in the vicinity. “If it’s not a choice then I don’t see why you can’t tell me!”
“You would be disgusted with me.” Minho couldn’t help the disgusted expression his face surely formed as he spoke.
“That’s a lie and you know it!” Kibum stated. “You’re the most beautiful, kind-hearted, hot-headed person I have ever known! Every moment I’ve spent with you is another adventure, exploring another facet of your personality. You make me smile each day and fill my stomach with butterflies. A-and… and I have never loved anyone in my whole life! I’ve had admiration and affection but never love.” He had tears in his eyes as he cupped Minho’s face, forcing him to look into his eyes. “So I know that no matter what you think is wrong with you, I could never think of you as disgusting!”
“I’m a slave!”
The outburst stunned them both, but Kibum’s continued insistence that he was somehow important had struck a chord. Kibum’s hands slipped down from his face and already he knew it was all over.
“What? No you’re not.” Kibum said, hands gripping Minho’s shirt.
The denial; he’d expected it.
“Your Highness, you must understand. When I came here, I was being sold. You weren’t buying my contract as an employee, you were buying me. Those men who brought me here? Slavers.” He explained. “They took me from a refugee camp outside of the capital city when I was sixteen, promising me honest work. My scars are from their lashings, for disobeying or failing to be sold.” He sobbed, closing his eyes as the memories he’d kept barred from his own mind came flooding back.
“B-but that’s awful!” Kibum cried, his hands back on Minho’s face, brushing through his hair. “My sweet Minho…” He murmured, tears falling down his own cheeks.
“Do you see now?” Minho asked. “Do you see why I cannot stay here?”
Kibum shook his head. “No. I don’t.”
“W-what?” Minho demanded. “But I’m a slave.”
“No, you’re not.” Kibum insisted, closing his eyes. “The moment I took you into my employment, gave you a room of your own, you stopped being a slave. The moment I unclothed you, kissed you, held you, you became my lover.” He kissed Minho’s lips, soft and short. “Even now… I cannot even look at you and imagine seeing you as anything else.” Opening his eyes, Kibum noted the tears in Minho’s eyes and leaned in to kiss the corners of them, and then brought Minho’s head down to his shoulder, embracing him. “Minho… you’ve endured a life I could never imagine. You’ve stood in the face of adversity and made your way here into my arms.”
A sharp sob left Minho’s lungs, unable to help clinging to Kibum for dear life, crying into his bare shoulder.
“And if you thought for a moment that I was going to let you go, or think you unworthy of surviving all of that time, then you’ve got another thing coming.” Kibum stated firmly. “Now, come back to bed.” He insisted.
Minho frowned, pulling back to look Kibum in the eye.
“We have a lot to talk about and there’s a lot going through your head that I can help you sort out later, but right now, I just want to doze for a while with the man I love in my arms, if that’s alright with you.” Kibum said, a matter-of-fact tone to his voice, tugging on Minho’s arm to get him back towards the bed. “And, preferably, I want that man unclothed.” He added, glancing pointedly at Minho’s attire.
Watching Kibum’s naked form strolling back to the bed, his heavenly hips swaying just so as he went, Minho had to wonder what god had to die for him to be so blessed. Not only had life thrown every hardship upon him, but now he was standing there, a prince requesting him back in his bed, even with the knowledge that he was talking to a slave.
And then Minho had to wonder what kind of a fool could ever turn down a prince’s desires, especially a prince like Kibum.
He undressed as he walked back to the bed, approaching Kibum who was kneeling on the edge of the mattress, reaching out to take one of Minho’s hands, kissing his knuckles. Minho’s free hand cupped his chin, fingers gentle on his skin, to pull him in, their lips meeting for the briefest of moments, and then parting as he curled fingers through Kibum’s long hair.
Leaning his forehead to Kibum’s, Minho shut his eyes tight, holding back tears of joy. “Kibum… I love you.”
. : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : .
The bed was cold when Kibum woke, even as sunlight streamed through the window, he let out a huff of annoyance, realising that Minho wasn’t there, even as he blindly felt around in the sheets for him. Confirming he wasn’t there, Kibum finally opened his eyes, blinking blearily in the early morning sun. “Minho?” He mumbled.
“Good morning.”
Hearing the response, Kibum turned so he could see the end of the bed where Minho was pacing across their chambers, arms folded, nervous fingers curling and uncurling from fists. Minho looked like a complete wreck, still getting used to the maintenance required of the hair that had long since grown passed his shoulder blades. But he was amused though, watching Minho’s pacing with a sparkle in his eye. “What’s wrong, my love?” He asked sweetly. “Are you feeling a little nervous?”
Minho barely paused as he cast Kibum a stare and then continued pacing like the prince hadn’t spoken. “No, Kibum, I’m just pacing for no good reason.”
The sarcasm wasn’t surprising, a defence mechanism that Minho had acquired from Kibum after so many months spent together. “But…” Kibum began, pouting as he crawled to the end of the bed, making sure Minho saw that he had left the sheet behind. “I thought you were excited about today, Minho.”
Minho’s pacing halted and he stared at Kibum with wide, horrified eyes. “I-I am! I-I can’t be nervous too?”
Kibum let his pout jut out further, gaze on the floor as if disappointed in the response. “You were so excited last night…” He mumbled.
“I’m still excited!” Minho assured him, sitting on the bed and letting Kibum loop arms around his shoulders from behind, raising a hand to gently run his fingers along Kibum’s wrist. “I’m just… Marrying you, there is nothing I could be more ready for. But… I’ll be crowned a prince. The responsibility of that is something I’m still not sure of… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think I wasn’t excited.” He sighed. “I’m feeling a lot of things at once right now.”
Kibum kissed Minho’s hair, then his ear and cheek, turning his chin so he could press his lips soundly to Minho’s. “I was only teasing you, my love. Don’t worry your pretty little mind, alright? We have to get ready now anyway, come.” He insisted, stepping from the bed and pulling Minho by the hand.
“I thought we were having a whole group of people helping us prepare?” Minho asked, confused as Kibum helped him into a silken robe and then pulled on one himself, allowing Minho to fix the collar without complaint.
“We are.” Kibum replied. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t comb through your hair before they arrive. Sit.”
Minho did as he was told, sitting down at one of the mirrors placed in their room in preparation for that very morning. Kibum’s fingers were gentle in Minho’s hair, gently tugging the larger knots out before he ran the comb through it to detangle the tighter knots, careful not to hurt Minho who was still getting used to the length and the tangles associated with it.
“Minho…” Kibum began, meeting Minho’s gaze through the mirror. “You know that I’ll be right beside you, supporting you, right? The responsibility of being a prince is upon both of us after all, and as a married pair we will eventually rule this kingdom together. You’ll never be expected to make a decision on your own. We can discuss anything and everything and make the best choice possible.” He explained. “Besides, we’ve always been good at communicating and supporting each other.”
He felt tears in his eyes, taking in each of Kibum’s words.
“And even though you may still have some doubts about yourself, I believe in you, and I always will believe in you, no matter what comes our way.” Kibum said, placing the comb down and walking around Minho, cupping his cheeks and tilting his head up to look at him. “And even if we make mistakes, it’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes and there will be solutions, we’ll just have to find them together.”
Smile fond upon his lips, Minho stood to his feet and leaned into a lingering kiss, letting his eyes slide shut and fingers touch just under Kibum’s chin before pulling away. “You always seem to know just what to say.” He muttered. “How do you do it?”
Kibum’s smile was broad and cheeky as he replied. “It’s just one of my many talents.”
A laugh left Minho, his arms looping around Kibum, sliding under the robe to feel bare skin. “Hmm, I happen to know a thing or two about your other talents.” He muttered teasingly.
Kibum began to playfully slap Minho’s shoulders and head. “Hey! We’ll have company soon!” He reminded him. “Save it for tonight you idiot!”
It was moments later that the servants filed into their chambers, carrying ceremonial gowns and several other items to ensure the pair were presented to the elven gods in the right way. The gowns were whiter than snow, yet they sparkled in the sunlight, the fabric light as a feather so even if there were many layers they didn’t feel burdened by it. The collars of the outer layer barely reached their shoulders and the sleeves bowed from the elbow, the other layers of the gowns falling down from where they were buttoned at the chest. Each hem had a trimming of embroidery and lace, signifying not just status but also the occasion itself. Minho couldn’t help but look in the mirror before him and wonder how clothing could hold such beauty - though he was glad that billowed trousers were required to be worn beneath the gowns.
The women braided Minho’s hair in ways it had never been braided before, almost pulling every piece of it up, curling and weaving, securing with pins that wouldn’t be seen. And then Kibum approached, his hair already styled in a similar way to Minho’s, his royal crown settled over his forehead, in his hands a box that Minho had never seen before. A smile was soft and almost shy upon his lips as he took in Minho’s appearance.
Kibum looked every bit as beautiful as the day they’d met, but somehow even now Minho felt his heart leap. How could it still do that even after a year?
“Minho, my love, there is a custom I neglected to inform you of.” Kibum explained. “Because I wanted it to be a surprise.” He added, handing the box to Yerim who opened it for the prince. Settled on the velvet pillow inside was a crown much like Kibum’s. The gold and silver twined and weaved together, meeting at the middle where a blue-green gem sat, the same colour, shape and size as the one on Kibum’s crown. “When a prince or princess marries a person without royal blood they create a crown for their partner, a unique gift that cannot be replicated.” He smiled fondly at the crown as he held it carefully in his hands. “It is as precious and unique as you are and I pray that you will treasure it as I do you.”
There were tears in Minho’s eyes as the prince finished speaking, the human standing to his feet and then bending on one knee before the prince so he could place the crown upon his head. It sat up on his forehead just as Kibum’s did and was kept there by the design alone that allowed it to grip onto his hair.
When he stood, Kibum’s thumb brushed over his cheek and Minho sniffled, conscious of their audience. “Are there customs against kissing the groom before the ceremony?” He asked softly.
Kibum laughed, amused by his question. “Not that I recall.” He replied and then lightly pressed his lips to Minho’s.
Return to Part Three
Pairing: Minho/Key
Rating: NC-17 overall
Genre: fantasy!au, romance, adventure
Final Word Count: 24,523 overall
PART FOUR
“She adores you, Minho!” Kibum gushed, tugging Minho into his chambers, delight on each feature of his face. “I’m so glad!”
They’d spent the whole day with the queen and the king, sharing conversation and meals well into the evening. The queen enjoyed hearing the tale of the dragon Minho had fought and hung onto every detail he could offer her. Soon they were watching her sketch the creature onto parchment with charcoal, her imagination sparking across the page. She was incredibly talented and Minho found himself mesmerised with the way she worked with the black substance to create an image so close to what he described that he half expected the dragon to fly from the parchment.
When they’d excused themselves, the queen had given them such a knowing look that it had made Minho blush even though Kibum hadn’t shown any sign of noticing the way his mother had gazed upon them, excitedly dashing from the room.
Minho chuckled. “Are you sure she wasn’t just being polite to your “friend”?” He asked, liking how Kibum stared at him in disbelief.
“Minho, you’re an idiot and you obviously don’t know my mother.” Kibum stated.
“Well, no, I only just met her today. How could I know her?” He asked, taking in the stunned expression on Kibum’s face as he realised it was the truth. “But it doesn’t matter. As long as she doesn’t hate me then I can get by.”
“No, no, you don’t understand.” Kibum said to him, hands on Minho’s shoulders. “My mother is very picky about who I spend time with. As a child she wouldn’t let me spend too much time with children who could be a bad influence on me. She is a little more lenient now, but she’d still make it clear she was unimpressed with you in some way.” He grinned giddily. “And she made it clear that even she wants to see you more often!” He launched into Minho’s arms, almost knocking the taller man over. “It means I don’t have to limit my time with you.” He added as he nuzzled against Minho’s shoulder.
Minho sighed, holding Kibum close to him. This man… he was amazing. “Not that it would have stopped you.”
“Yes, but I don’t have to hide it from her which means I can hold your hands in the hallway and invite you to family meals. I can keep this in the open instead of hiding it away.” Kibum looked up at Minho, smiling brightly. Minho’s heart gave a leap. “Because you don’t deserve to be hidden away, and neither does our relationship.” He said, staring into Minho’s eyes and then kissing him.
Minho made a quiet squeak of surprise, but didn’t hesitate in responding, fingers gripping at Kibum’s clothes, humming against his mouth. The kiss, as sweet as it had started, suddenly grew fierce, Kibum gripping at Minho’s grown out hair, tugging at his bottom lip with teeth, gasping out desperate breaths.
“Minho.” Kibum muttered, kissing him again and again, while he began to pull at his own clothes. “Make love to me, Minho. Please. Now.”
“Why the rush, Your Highness?” Minho muttered, managing to catch Kibum’s wrists and keeping him from undressing. He captured lips and the prince whined in annoyance, though he reciprocated the kiss, until Minho could let go of his wrists in favour of holding his waist, pulling him in and letting their hips grind, lips parting to gasp against each other’s tongues. Kibum hummed into his mouth and Minho smiled, excitement bubbling in his chest. He couldn’t help it.
He loved the prince. He was actually in love with him.
Even after everything they had already done, the ways they had touched and kissed and bit and screamed together, this time… it was something else. Every inch of his skin wanted to sing and rejoice, his heart soaring, his mind ready to explode from too many messages sending adrenaline gushing through his blood. This was no longer a game, not just touches and climax and escaping, this was the real deal. The prince and he, they would become one that night and there wasn’t a force in the world that could stop them.
Peeling the clothes from the prince’s body felt like a new experience, each new expanse of skin revealed sending more flutters to his lower abdomen, brushing with lips and fingertips over his nose, eyelids, cheeks, ears, neck, collar bones, and then teasing taut nipples, the prince arching into him with hands clinging tight to Minho’s shirt, fists clenched against his waist. The prince gasped out soft breaths, murmuring Minho’s name and his body trembling, legs buckling.
After dropping the last piece of the prince’s clothes to the floor, Minho helped the prince remove his own clothing, smiling fondly as tentative fingers brushed over his skin, tracing scars and marks new and old, marvelling at the shape of his lips, fingertips pressing against the pink toned skin.
Minho poked his tongue out, licking the fingers, startling laughter from the prince who leaned into him, his face contorted with delight, laugh loud and unbridled - it wasn’t at all the kind of laughter Minho was used to hearing from the prince, nor seeing as the prince always raised a hand to cover it in the past, but the sound was happier than any other he’d ever heard in his life. He pressed his mouth to Kibum’s, catching onto his bottom lip until the prince stopped laughing and returned the kiss, humming excitedly against his mouth.
Both completely stripped of their clothes, Minho lifted Kibum from the floor, one hand braced at his back and the other under his knees, carrying the prince to the bed. Laying him down in the middle of the bed, Minho hovered over him, mouth meeting Kibum’s, again and again, slow, sensual, precise and each one sent shivers through their bodies, Kibum’s almost visibly trembling, reaching up to angle Minho’s chin where he wanted with just the tips of his fingers. Minho complied to each of his touches, replying to each hum with one of his own, hands caressing Kibum’s waist and to his upper torso, brushing thumbs towards his chest, and then back down to Kibum’s waist and then his hips, teasing at the space where Kibum’s torso met his legs.
A shudder shook Kibum and he broke their kisses, pressing his lips down Minho’s neck and collarbone, arms circling his shoulders to press nails into Minho’s back. Heeding the wordless insistence, Minho let his fingertips trail paths across Kibum’s abdomen, feeling the muscles clench and expand, breaths hitching when he explored Kibum’s chest, as if it was the first time he’d seen it, touched it, bringing his mouth down to lick a hardened bud and then suck it between his lips, thumb circling the other. Kibum’s fingers gripped at Minho’s hair at first, gasped moans leaving his lungs, heaving his chest, but then trailed his hands down Minho’s spine, tracing the edges of his burns, sending a chill through the taller male and bringing a smirk to Kibum’s face just as he reached his ass. Without any hesitation, he reached a finger through the crack and lightly pressed against the clenching hole, causing Minho to gasp in pleasure, arching into Kibum’s touch.
“That’s how you want it?” Minho asked, his eyes rising to meet Kibum’s, seeking an honest answer. He didn’t care how it went, as long as it went.
Kibum licked his lips, but his eyes were unsure. “I don’t know. How do you prefer it?” He asked, brushing hair from Minho’s face, kissing his nose, their fervent actions calming for a moment.
“You’re my first, remember?” Minho reminded him, chuckling lightly, leaning into the hand Kibum’s used to cup his cheek. “I have no preference, as long as it’s you.”
As Kibum caressed and kissed Minho’s face he tried to think of what he did want. He’d taken it both ways before; he had no qualms in being dominated if his partner favoured it. Being with someone who didn’t mind either way was new to him.
But then… he’d not just seen Minho hard, but he’d felt the girth in his palm, touched it with his lips. He didn’t recall ever having such length in him before.
He hummed, decision made. “I know how I want it.” He confirmed, capturing Minho’s mouth, humming as a tongue met his in the middle. He didn’t let Minho ask him when they parted, only reached for the side table, opening the top drawer to reveal a lubricant made by Jinki - who had flushed when requested it, but hadn’t said a word otherwise other than to ask what flavour the prince wanted it to be - and presented it to Minho. His lover blinked at it, not sure what it was. “Use this to get me ready, Minho.”
Minho let out a low moan, fiercely kissing Kibum, taking the bottle and placing it aside, not ready to use it yet. There was a squeak of surprise from Kibum, but he slid his arms around Minho without question, returning the kiss with just as much adrenaline, moaning all the while. Then, Minho began to move down Kibum’s body, kissing along each expanse of skin, lingering on pert nipples, pausing to kiss fingertips when they reached to brush his cheeks and hair, and then finally he was at Kibum’s navel, the tip of his nose tickling the dark hair trailing downward.
He’d been here before, this close to the prince’s arousal. All the other times though, it had felt different. There hadn’t been any real feeling to it, no desire to pleasure the prince simply because he wanted him to feel good. The first time had been exhilarating, watching how the prince fell to pieces. And then it had been nothing more than a mutual need to feel something.
This time though, he could have brought Kibum to the end and left satisfied without his own release.
He kept eye contact with Kibum as he grazed nails through the wiry hair, teasing the base just enough for Kibum to whimper, and then slowly began to stroke him, barely moving his hand from the base at first until he was leisurely stroking the whole length, bringing his lips to the tip where he licked and kissed, tasting the fluid that dribbled from it. Kibum lost eye contact by the time Minho circled the head with his tongue, panting loud and hard, moans sounding like whimpers as he gripped the bedsheets, thighs pressing against Minho’s shoulders.
Minho took him in all the way, just once, then twice, but then pulled back, picking up the bottle of lubricant as he shifted his hips closer, Kibum’s thighs rising to rest on Minho’s where his legs bent by his hips.
“Remind me to return the favour later.” Kibum muttered, wanting more than anything to stroke Minho just as he’d been stroked, but his hands felt tingly, almost as if they wouldn’t be able to do any good even if he tried.
His body had never reacted to sex in this way before.
Was this how it felt when…
Minho’s lubricated fingers brushed over his entrance and whatever thought the prince had left his mind as a startled gasp left his lungs. There was a tentative way to how Minho’s hands moved, having never gotten to this point before. He was careful and perhaps a little awkward over all, but by the time he was pushing one finger inside, bringing a gasp from Kibum’s lips, his confidence had grown. Kibum continued to encourage Minho, murmuring compliments and assurances and trying not to melt completely into the sheets, especially as Minho pushed in a second finger.
Whimpering, moaning, Kibum reached down to run a hand up and down his own length, until Minho stopped him, gently brushing his hands out of the way and stroking him at an almost lazy pace, fingers of his other hand still working into Kibum again and again. It was becoming too much, Kibum’s body tingling all over. “M-Minho… I-I’m ready.” He mumbled, reaching down to touch Minho’s girth. It was hard, hot and the tip was wet when he brushed his fingers over it.
He smiled, watching as Minho quickly removed his hands from Kibum and scrambled for the lubricant to properly lather his length in it. “J-just tell me if I’m not doing it right.” Minho said, nerves kicking in even as excitement jostled his blood.
“There isn’t any real right or wrong here, Minho.” Kibum assured him, chuckling in amusement. “But, if you are going too slow I’ll be sure to let you know.”
With most of his concerns quelled, Minho carefully eased himself in with the guidance of Kibum’s fingers, his mouth falling open as he let out short, excited whimpers of pleasure, having never felt anything like it before. When he was buried to the hilt, Minho looked down at the prince and found that his eyes were scrunched shut, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted and head tilted to one side, panting out short breaths laced with pleasure. The image was exhilarating, and Minho leaned over Kibum, kissing along his exposed neck, sucking at the skin, determined to leave some kind of a mark there - something he’d always wanted to do. Kibum moaned, hand grabbing onto Minho’s hair, letting his body contract around Minho to gain a pleasured moan from his lover.
“Move, Minho.” He breathed, looping arms loosely around Minho’s shoulders. “Please move.”
Minho complied in an instant, but was ever tentative, slowly pulling back and then pushing back in, crying out a moan and relishing in the way Kibum hummed excitedly. He let out a few pants, trying to catch his breath, before he began a leisurely pace, taking his time.
Even knowing that Kibum wanted it faster didn’t mean he’d get it straight away.
Kibum bucked his hips, forcing the pace to change, startling a cry from Minho’s lips before he flipped them both over, sitting himself down on Minho. For a moment, Minho lay on his back, stunned by the image of Kibum upon him. He looked gorgeous, his long black hair waving down over his shoulders, chest smooth and heaving with each breath, neck long as his head tilted back, mouth wide open, how his body rolled, hips shifting upon Minho’s.
Reaching down, Minho brushed his fingers against Kibum’s stomach, feeling the muscles contract. “Y-you know what you’re doing, Kibum. Show me how it’s done.”
There was a look to Kibum’s eye, as if he’d just been challenged, and Minho could only gasp out in pleasure as the prince began to rock upon him until he had enough momentum to bounce, skin slapping against skin. Unable to help himself, Minho began to meet Kibum’s hips in the middle, eventually finding a rhythm that was almost too perfect.
Kibum’s cries echoed through the room, a shaky hand fumbling along his aching length, trying as hard as he might to find a climax, but eventually had to have his hand slapped away again, Minho’s taking its place. He was perhaps a little more incoherent than Kibum was, his eyelids unable to remain open for long and his mouth running dry as he continued to mirror Kibum’s moans, but his grip was still firmer.
Minho reached his end first, hips jolting out of rhythm just enough for Kibum to clench around him, brushing fingers over Minho’s nipples until he came inside of him, a grunted moan filling the room. His whole body was tingling, breaths still coming hard even as Kibum began to move up on him again, a hand joining Minho’s upon him until he too reached his peak, fluid spilling upon their hands, a few spots splattering upon Minho’s stomach.
Feeling Kibum tremor, Minho took it upon himself to catch the prince before he fell, gently easing himself out of him before laying him down, and rolling so they were facing one another. Kibum slid closer, arm slung lazily across the bow of Minho’s waist. Unashamed, Minho kissed his face, enjoying the whines the prince gave, the attempts to stop him which were more or less just playful nudges of hands on Minho’s face and chest, resulting in his hands becoming the victims of Minho’s playful pecks as well.
“You’re an idiot.” Kibum commented, laughter in his voice, even though he seemed so tired.
Minho didn’t reply, just pulled the prince even closer and closed his eyes.
He felt soft fingers brushing hair from his face, then cupping his cheek, a kiss pressing to his lips that he barely managed to respond to before he fell asleep.
. : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : .
The weeks following continued in a similar cycle. They would visit the recovering queen - who was always overjoyed at seeing Minho, doting her attention upon him and complimenting him to Kibum, if the words hadn’t been so honest Minho might have felt uncomfortable - then spend time exploring the forest as they always had before, and then each night they would retire to Kibum’s quarters and make love in the moonlight. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest of cycles to continue, but it was even harder to break. Minho craved Kibum’s touch, needed his lips and the warmth of his hands.
It was selfish of him, taking advantage of the prince’s desires, but no one else needed to know that.
But one morning, their bodies tangled in the sheets, fresh from lazy morning sex, Kibum had reached over to Minho’s face, gently brushing the tips of his fingers along his cheek, grazing his lips, smile so tired and yet still showed all the fondness in the world. The words he breathed were so soft, so heartfelt, and yet Minho felt his heart sink when it should have soared.
“Minho…” Kibum muttered. “I love you, Minho.”
The prince loved him. That couldn’t possibly be the truth; it had to be a confession from the spur of the moment, or from his tired mind. But if it was true there was only one solution and there was every chance that it would kill them both for him to do it.
What choice did he have though? The illusion that their arrangement was merely about fulfilling the need for intimacy, for sex, was broken. He could no longer pretend the feelings in his heart weren’t real, not now that the prince was saying the words he could only dream of saying back.
The prince… the prince shouldn’t love a person like him, not someone from such a humble and poor background, much less the person who came to him as a slave - another fact that had to be kept from the prince’s knowledge at all costs.
Minho slowly sat up, eyes scrunched shut as he felt the ache from having the prince inside him, ignoring Kibum’s sleepy protests as he stood from the bed and began to gather his clothes. He was pulling on his trousers when the prince sat up on the bed, rubbing tired eyes.
“Minho?” He asked, his voice so deep and so alluring Minho had to turn his eyes away to keep himself from wavering. “What’s going on? Where are you going?”
After a long moment of hesitation, Minho spoke. “I’ve made a mistake, Your Highness.”
“Kibum, my name is Kibum.” The prince reminded him, fists clenched in the sheets held up to his chest. “And that’s all you should be calling me now.”
Minho scrunched his eyes shut, remembering how often he had used that name in the past, whispering it, gasping it, screaming it, breathing it into kisses, against skin. A name he wasn’t allowed to use, let alone in such a way. “I shouldn’t call you that at all.”
“I said you could, Minho.” Kibum said, getting off the bed and - with the sheet still around his form - walked to Minho, reaching with a hesitant hand to try and touch his cheek. But his lover, the man he loved, flinched away. “Minho... what happened? What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m not... I’m not what you think I am.” Minho stated. “And that’s all you need to know. I - ” He paused, daring a look at Kibum, only to look away again. “I shouldn’t have acted how I did. Whether my feelings are true or not, you are a prince. You deserve better.”
“Minho...”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” Minho said, bowing his head in respect and making for the door, his back to the prince.
“You’re not allowed to run from me!” Kibum cried, throwing a book at Minho, but it only hit the wall beside him, falling in a mess on the floor. He stopped, glancing at the book, even as Kibum continued to shout. “You’re the only person I feel free around!”
“I’m sorry.” Minho whispered. “I really am.”
“And you’re also not allowed to hold me like you have every night and then decide it didn’t matter because guess what: it did." Kibum added, tears forming in his eyes beyond his control. “And it still does. You’re everything to me Minho! You can’t just turn your back on me now!”
Minho shook his head. “I have to. If I don’t, you’ll never move on…”
“What if that’s not what I want?” Kibum demanded. “Did you ever think to ask me that, huh?”
“Trust me, you want to move on from me, forget I even exist." Minho insisted, stepping towards the door again. “I’ll step out for a while, to let you calm down.”
“Stop right there!” Kibum hissed. To his surprise, Minho stopped, but didn’t turn around. “I don’t want you to go anywhere, do you hear me? As your prince I command you!”
The whole time Minho had been by Kibum’s side, he had never used his status as prince in such a way - jokes and teasing aside. “Your Highness...”
“Let me hug you.” Kibum said.
Reluctantly, but unable to refuse, Minho sighed and nodded. A moment later, Kibum's arms were around his torso, fingers clinging desperately to his shirt. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.
Kibum sighed, then sniffled. “Talk to me. Please. I just want to understand.”
“I-I couldn’t. You’ll drive me away.” Minho explained, shutting his eyes as he imagined it. “And that is something I could never endure.”
Kibum’s fingers tightened in his shirt and Minho could feel how shaky the prince’s breaths were becoming. “I would never drive you away. How could I ever?” He demanded, more to himself than Minho. “Only a fool would push the one they love away.”
Minho held in a chuckle. “So I suppose that does make me a fool…”
Kibum’s eyes widened, did that mean…?
“I will not let go until you explain yourself, Minho.” Kibum stated, only tightening his hold further. “What’s out there that needs you so badly?” He demanded. “Let me at least understand, so I can let you go without regretting it for the rest of my life!”
The way Kibum’s voice raised, the utter pain he was feeling, struck Minho like an arrow to the chest. He was the one causing this pain, making him second guess his own conscience. Was this really the right thing to do? He shook his head, of course it was. Kibum deserved someone of royalty, a person who was born of higher standing. Someone who wasn’t a slave. “It is better you don’t know.”
“I don’t believe that.” Kibum replied.
“I know.” He whispered, turning in Kibum’s hold and burying fingers in his hair, cradling his head against his shoulder as arms wrapped around his back and dug at his shoulder blades. “But… I can’t tell you any more than that.” Minho closed his eyes, already regretting everything he was saying.
“You’re not… you’re serious? You really want to leave?” Kibum demanded, disbelief filling his voice. “You can’t!”
“It’s not that I want to.” Minho avoided eye contact as he spoke. “I have to.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.” He was hurting Kibum so badly, he was causing this pain, but... it was better this way. “Even if I’m leaving something precious behind as a result.”
A tear made its way down Kibum’s cheek. “That’s not fair.” Kibum said. “You can’t just say things like that and then turn your back on me.”
He sighed, nodding. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry. If you were, you wouldn’t even be wanting to leave.”
“Your Highness, please!” Minho insisted, desperation in his voice. He couldn’t let the prince believe he was leaving because he didn’t want to stay. “I told you, I don’t want to leave!”
“Then why?!” Kibum demanded, his voice reaching such loud volumes he was sure to be drawing the attention of other people in the vicinity. “If it’s not a choice then I don’t see why you can’t tell me!”
“You would be disgusted with me.” Minho couldn’t help the disgusted expression his face surely formed as he spoke.
“That’s a lie and you know it!” Kibum stated. “You’re the most beautiful, kind-hearted, hot-headed person I have ever known! Every moment I’ve spent with you is another adventure, exploring another facet of your personality. You make me smile each day and fill my stomach with butterflies. A-and… and I have never loved anyone in my whole life! I’ve had admiration and affection but never love.” He had tears in his eyes as he cupped Minho’s face, forcing him to look into his eyes. “So I know that no matter what you think is wrong with you, I could never think of you as disgusting!”
“I’m a slave!”
The outburst stunned them both, but Kibum’s continued insistence that he was somehow important had struck a chord. Kibum’s hands slipped down from his face and already he knew it was all over.
“What? No you’re not.” Kibum said, hands gripping Minho’s shirt.
The denial; he’d expected it.
“Your Highness, you must understand. When I came here, I was being sold. You weren’t buying my contract as an employee, you were buying me. Those men who brought me here? Slavers.” He explained. “They took me from a refugee camp outside of the capital city when I was sixteen, promising me honest work. My scars are from their lashings, for disobeying or failing to be sold.” He sobbed, closing his eyes as the memories he’d kept barred from his own mind came flooding back.
“B-but that’s awful!” Kibum cried, his hands back on Minho’s face, brushing through his hair. “My sweet Minho…” He murmured, tears falling down his own cheeks.
“Do you see now?” Minho asked. “Do you see why I cannot stay here?”
Kibum shook his head. “No. I don’t.”
“W-what?” Minho demanded. “But I’m a slave.”
“No, you’re not.” Kibum insisted, closing his eyes. “The moment I took you into my employment, gave you a room of your own, you stopped being a slave. The moment I unclothed you, kissed you, held you, you became my lover.” He kissed Minho’s lips, soft and short. “Even now… I cannot even look at you and imagine seeing you as anything else.” Opening his eyes, Kibum noted the tears in Minho’s eyes and leaned in to kiss the corners of them, and then brought Minho’s head down to his shoulder, embracing him. “Minho… you’ve endured a life I could never imagine. You’ve stood in the face of adversity and made your way here into my arms.”
A sharp sob left Minho’s lungs, unable to help clinging to Kibum for dear life, crying into his bare shoulder.
“And if you thought for a moment that I was going to let you go, or think you unworthy of surviving all of that time, then you’ve got another thing coming.” Kibum stated firmly. “Now, come back to bed.” He insisted.
Minho frowned, pulling back to look Kibum in the eye.
“We have a lot to talk about and there’s a lot going through your head that I can help you sort out later, but right now, I just want to doze for a while with the man I love in my arms, if that’s alright with you.” Kibum said, a matter-of-fact tone to his voice, tugging on Minho’s arm to get him back towards the bed. “And, preferably, I want that man unclothed.” He added, glancing pointedly at Minho’s attire.
Watching Kibum’s naked form strolling back to the bed, his heavenly hips swaying just so as he went, Minho had to wonder what god had to die for him to be so blessed. Not only had life thrown every hardship upon him, but now he was standing there, a prince requesting him back in his bed, even with the knowledge that he was talking to a slave.
And then Minho had to wonder what kind of a fool could ever turn down a prince’s desires, especially a prince like Kibum.
He undressed as he walked back to the bed, approaching Kibum who was kneeling on the edge of the mattress, reaching out to take one of Minho’s hands, kissing his knuckles. Minho’s free hand cupped his chin, fingers gentle on his skin, to pull him in, their lips meeting for the briefest of moments, and then parting as he curled fingers through Kibum’s long hair.
Leaning his forehead to Kibum’s, Minho shut his eyes tight, holding back tears of joy. “Kibum… I love you.”
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The bed was cold when Kibum woke, even as sunlight streamed through the window, he let out a huff of annoyance, realising that Minho wasn’t there, even as he blindly felt around in the sheets for him. Confirming he wasn’t there, Kibum finally opened his eyes, blinking blearily in the early morning sun. “Minho?” He mumbled.
“Good morning.”
Hearing the response, Kibum turned so he could see the end of the bed where Minho was pacing across their chambers, arms folded, nervous fingers curling and uncurling from fists. Minho looked like a complete wreck, still getting used to the maintenance required of the hair that had long since grown passed his shoulder blades. But he was amused though, watching Minho’s pacing with a sparkle in his eye. “What’s wrong, my love?” He asked sweetly. “Are you feeling a little nervous?”
Minho barely paused as he cast Kibum a stare and then continued pacing like the prince hadn’t spoken. “No, Kibum, I’m just pacing for no good reason.”
The sarcasm wasn’t surprising, a defence mechanism that Minho had acquired from Kibum after so many months spent together. “But…” Kibum began, pouting as he crawled to the end of the bed, making sure Minho saw that he had left the sheet behind. “I thought you were excited about today, Minho.”
Minho’s pacing halted and he stared at Kibum with wide, horrified eyes. “I-I am! I-I can’t be nervous too?”
Kibum let his pout jut out further, gaze on the floor as if disappointed in the response. “You were so excited last night…” He mumbled.
“I’m still excited!” Minho assured him, sitting on the bed and letting Kibum loop arms around his shoulders from behind, raising a hand to gently run his fingers along Kibum’s wrist. “I’m just… Marrying you, there is nothing I could be more ready for. But… I’ll be crowned a prince. The responsibility of that is something I’m still not sure of… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think I wasn’t excited.” He sighed. “I’m feeling a lot of things at once right now.”
Kibum kissed Minho’s hair, then his ear and cheek, turning his chin so he could press his lips soundly to Minho’s. “I was only teasing you, my love. Don’t worry your pretty little mind, alright? We have to get ready now anyway, come.” He insisted, stepping from the bed and pulling Minho by the hand.
“I thought we were having a whole group of people helping us prepare?” Minho asked, confused as Kibum helped him into a silken robe and then pulled on one himself, allowing Minho to fix the collar without complaint.
“We are.” Kibum replied. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t comb through your hair before they arrive. Sit.”
Minho did as he was told, sitting down at one of the mirrors placed in their room in preparation for that very morning. Kibum’s fingers were gentle in Minho’s hair, gently tugging the larger knots out before he ran the comb through it to detangle the tighter knots, careful not to hurt Minho who was still getting used to the length and the tangles associated with it.
“Minho…” Kibum began, meeting Minho’s gaze through the mirror. “You know that I’ll be right beside you, supporting you, right? The responsibility of being a prince is upon both of us after all, and as a married pair we will eventually rule this kingdom together. You’ll never be expected to make a decision on your own. We can discuss anything and everything and make the best choice possible.” He explained. “Besides, we’ve always been good at communicating and supporting each other.”
He felt tears in his eyes, taking in each of Kibum’s words.
“And even though you may still have some doubts about yourself, I believe in you, and I always will believe in you, no matter what comes our way.” Kibum said, placing the comb down and walking around Minho, cupping his cheeks and tilting his head up to look at him. “And even if we make mistakes, it’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes and there will be solutions, we’ll just have to find them together.”
Smile fond upon his lips, Minho stood to his feet and leaned into a lingering kiss, letting his eyes slide shut and fingers touch just under Kibum’s chin before pulling away. “You always seem to know just what to say.” He muttered. “How do you do it?”
Kibum’s smile was broad and cheeky as he replied. “It’s just one of my many talents.”
A laugh left Minho, his arms looping around Kibum, sliding under the robe to feel bare skin. “Hmm, I happen to know a thing or two about your other talents.” He muttered teasingly.
Kibum began to playfully slap Minho’s shoulders and head. “Hey! We’ll have company soon!” He reminded him. “Save it for tonight you idiot!”
It was moments later that the servants filed into their chambers, carrying ceremonial gowns and several other items to ensure the pair were presented to the elven gods in the right way. The gowns were whiter than snow, yet they sparkled in the sunlight, the fabric light as a feather so even if there were many layers they didn’t feel burdened by it. The collars of the outer layer barely reached their shoulders and the sleeves bowed from the elbow, the other layers of the gowns falling down from where they were buttoned at the chest. Each hem had a trimming of embroidery and lace, signifying not just status but also the occasion itself. Minho couldn’t help but look in the mirror before him and wonder how clothing could hold such beauty - though he was glad that billowed trousers were required to be worn beneath the gowns.
The women braided Minho’s hair in ways it had never been braided before, almost pulling every piece of it up, curling and weaving, securing with pins that wouldn’t be seen. And then Kibum approached, his hair already styled in a similar way to Minho’s, his royal crown settled over his forehead, in his hands a box that Minho had never seen before. A smile was soft and almost shy upon his lips as he took in Minho’s appearance.
Kibum looked every bit as beautiful as the day they’d met, but somehow even now Minho felt his heart leap. How could it still do that even after a year?
“Minho, my love, there is a custom I neglected to inform you of.” Kibum explained. “Because I wanted it to be a surprise.” He added, handing the box to Yerim who opened it for the prince. Settled on the velvet pillow inside was a crown much like Kibum’s. The gold and silver twined and weaved together, meeting at the middle where a blue-green gem sat, the same colour, shape and size as the one on Kibum’s crown. “When a prince or princess marries a person without royal blood they create a crown for their partner, a unique gift that cannot be replicated.” He smiled fondly at the crown as he held it carefully in his hands. “It is as precious and unique as you are and I pray that you will treasure it as I do you.”
There were tears in Minho’s eyes as the prince finished speaking, the human standing to his feet and then bending on one knee before the prince so he could place the crown upon his head. It sat up on his forehead just as Kibum’s did and was kept there by the design alone that allowed it to grip onto his hair.
When he stood, Kibum’s thumb brushed over his cheek and Minho sniffled, conscious of their audience. “Are there customs against kissing the groom before the ceremony?” He asked softly.
Kibum laughed, amused by his question. “Not that I recall.” He replied and then lightly pressed his lips to Minho’s.
Return to Part Three