19. Second
Title: Second
Rating: G
Pairing: 2min
Genre: Romance
Word Count: 1,839
Summary: 'Second' was a position Minho hated with all his heart, but he didn't have to be second any longer.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything here.
--
Minho wouldn’t have been seated amongst the royals in the birthday banquet if it wasn’t for Minseok’s constant begging and his butler -and self proclaimed best friend-, Kibum’s never-ending nagging. He wouldn’t have been there, bored out of his mind as his family chattered with their officials who constantly licked his father’s boots.
Minho would have been in his spacious room instead, in his study, hunched over books. He would have been reading about anything and everything. He would be looking over the city finances, their debt and so much more, just because he didn’t trust his father’s chancellor and officials. He would have been filling his brain with knowledge he never knew, like how to build ships or on the cultures and traditions of the neighboring countries.
Minho might have been out in their extensive garden, having tea with his mother, talking to her about issues of the city and she would listen attentively, agreeing with his words. He enjoyed the woman’s company very much, he did.
Minho might have been at the stables, brushing the hair of the horse he called Ghost. He might have been riding, leaping over streams and into the woods, coming home muddy, grimy, sweaty, but thoroughly satisfied. Minho might have been at the back of the castle, practicing with his sword his brother gave him on his sixteenth birthday. He might have been dancing with a ball around a plain field quite far from the castle ground, with a couple of servants he trusted very much.
But no, he was at his brother’s lavish birthday banquet instead, surrounded by fabric of all colors that draped down from the ceiling, decorating the throne room. Servants bustled in and out, pouring wine and carrying trays of food, replenishing the empty plates. Musicians sat at a corner of the court, plucking at strings and blowing into metal. People poured into the castle, bearing wishes and gifts for the crown prince they adored so very much.
Choi Minseok, the perfect prince and son. He excelled in everything, was nice and courteous, not to mention he was quite the ladies man. Minseok and Minho had a friendly rivalry, and they would compete at anything, just to see who’d win.
Minho loved Minseok very much, he did. The older boy was always nice to him, acknowledging his efforts, looking out for him. Sometimes Minseok would take Minho on trips to foreign lands, against the wishes of his father. Sometimes, they’d just play around in the gardens, racing like they always did when they were little. He always nursed Minho back to health if he was sick, even though he would be busy with studies and work- preparations for his reign as king, his father called it.
Sometimes though, Minho couldn’t help but to be angry, to be bitter. He always put in his best, burnt the midnight oil countless times, sprained his leg in an attempt to beat Minseok’s record at running, broke his leg while trying to scale the tower Minseok did with ease, and the list went on.
Minho wondered, more often than he’d like, why he even bothered trying to beat Minseok anymore. He thought he would have learnt his lesson when he was a little prince that Minseok would always win.
No matter how much Minho tried and did, he always placed second, with his brother effortlessly coming in first. Second. It was a position he hated with all his heart. Second prince, second place, second in his father’s eyes, a nobody in everybody’s eyes. Nobody ever acknowledged those who placed second, and he was no exception. As the adoring eyes of the people fell on Minseok, as did his father’s, Minho was left behind in his shadows. Nobody noticed the second prince, not ever.
Today was not going to be an exception, he knew. People passed by him like he was invisible, flocking to the crown prince instead. He knew that it was Minseok’s birthday banquet, and that it was only natural that they’d do that, but he still felt so very bitter inside.
And so he sipped his tea as his father and brother talked to the foreign dignitaries, conversing with his mother occasionally, most of the times daydreaming about what his life would be if he wasn’t a royal. ‘Much better’, he thought. ‘It would have been much better.’
The music and chatter came to a sudden stop when a group strode into the room, the people in the center of the room made way for them as they passed and Minho recognized them to be the courtesans, by the bronze choker they wore on their necks. They took their positions, and in no more than a minute, the music had started once again, and they begun to dance. Minho had no idea they entertained this way too, and he watched in wide-eyed wonderment as they moved their bodies to the music.
He recognized some of them to be men, and he wondered why they’d be in that group, wondering if his father and brother swung that way too, but he held his tongue. Their dance was a tad boring, he had to admit, but a certain dancer had stood out amongst the crowd, dancing energetically and his eyes widened a bit more.
Minho concluded that he was a boy, no older than him, probably in his teens, by his physique. The boy could have easily passed off as a woman, by the way he looked, by the way he swung those hips, and Minho sat up, leaning forward to get a closer look. The boy’s blonde locks framed his face perfectly, his clothes revealing his navel, his arms and Minho had the strangest urge to touch them.
The boy was wearing a bronze collar with a pearlescent sky blue gem in the middle, signifying that he was the crown prince’s possession, and Minho felt bitter again, but it was short-lived when he noticed that the boy was staring back at him. Not at his father, not at the disgusting officials, not at his perfect brother, but at him. Minho was certain that his heart skipped a beat when the boy smirked, his eyes never leaving his own for too long a period of time.
Minseok hadn’t missed the way Minho was staring at the boy, and turned to him, whispering into his ear. “That’s Lee Taemin, new to this court.” He chuckled when Minho gulped.
“Lee Taemin.” Minho repeated, voice soft and Minseok nodded, amused by the way his precious younger brother had been acting.
“He’s mine, his family had apparently sold him to the old hag a couple of weeks back.” Minseok added on, and Minho listened attentively, though his eyes were still glued to the boy in question. “You can have him if you want.”
Minho’s eyes snapped to his brother’s then, face disbelieving. “I what?” He asked, voice a little higher than his father would have liked, judging from the click of the tongue.
“You heard me, you can have him.” Minseok repeated nonchalantly, sipping his rice wine and Minho couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He was a little happy that Minseok gave Taemin to him, but he was a little angry with that. Taemin wasn’t an object he could just throw around. He wanted to yell at Minseok. Taemin was a gem that needed to be protected, to be kept safe, to be loved.
He held his tongue though, instead thanking his brother who smiled at him. Turning his attention back to Taemin, he noticed that the boy was still staring at him, and he grinned widely for what was probably the first time in a while.
‘He noticed.’ Minho thought, feeling like a teen with a crush.
He visited Taemin’s chamber that very night, well after celebrations had ended, and he found Taemin still in his performance robes, bare back facing him and Minho licked his lips as he shut the door behind him.
Taemin turned around almost immediately, eyes wide with shock when he noticed that the prince was in his presence, but it softened after a moment.
“My prince,” he whispered, bowing to Minho who walked in quick strides towards him, lifting his chin with his hand.
“Don’t.” Minho shook his head, voice barely a whisper, removing his hand before hovering it over his cheek, watching for Taemin’s reaction, waiting for permission before he cupped his cheek, pad of his thumb stroking the skin beneath it gently as Taemin leaned into his touch.
He watched Taemin close his eyes, moonlight filtering through his small window, through the dusty curtains, giving Taemin’s face a slow glow, and Minho thought that Taemin was the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on.
Minho removed his hand after a while, he moved it downwards, brushing it across the skin of his neck and Minho felt happy when Taemin watched his every move, shivering a little at his touch. He stroked the collar once, before unlocking it, removing the band from Taemin’s neck, throwing it into a corner of the room, the metal making a soft ‘clink’ when it collided with the stone ground.
Taemin smiled, cocking his head to a side. “So what now?” He asked when Minho winded his strong, toned arms around Taemin’s tiny waist, burying his nose into the crook of his neck. Minho liked the way Taemin smelt, something like apples and flowers, he couldn’t place a finger on it.
Minho honestly hadn’t thought carefully about what he’d do with Taemin now, but he was certain that he’d make Taemin his, maybe take him away to the summer castle his family used to go to, far from the city, far from prying eyes and learn everything about the boy. He was certain that he wanted to give Taemin everything he could offer. He was still a prince, even if he was very much invisible, and that meant access to their family’s fortune.
“First, my name’s Minho,” He mumbled, pulling Taemin closer to him, the courtesan’s arms automatically winding itself around his neck.
“I know. My name’s Lee Taemin, my prince.”
“I know.” Minho chuckled, not missing that twinkle in Taemin’s eyes.
He was quite certain his father would object. He could almost hear the man’s yells now. “How dare you, such audacity.” He would roar. “What would the people say?”
“Minho,” Taemin laughed, when the taller of the two started to move about, dancing around the room and he loved the way Taemin’s laugh sounded, loved the way his name rolled off the younger boy’s tongue. What he’d give to hear more of it.
“I intend to make you mine, love.” He whispered into the boy’s ear while they danced in the little space Taemin’s room provided, and Taemin rested his head on his shoulder, humming in response.
Quite frankly, Minho couldn’t give a rat’s ass about what they thought. Only Taemin’s opinion mattered, and he knew that he’d be second to none in Taemin’s eyes, as Taemin was in his.
--
...Well this turned out 1,000 words too long. OTL;; Originally wanted to keep it short, oh well. o3o;;a Felt like writing something like this, and uh. Yeah;; In my mind, Taemin would have become Minho's favourite/lover after that. Or something along those lines. Guess I rambled on enough, back to painting. Hope you guys enjoyed this!
Love, Allena.
Rating: G
Pairing: 2min
Genre: Romance
Word Count: 1,839
Summary: 'Second' was a position Minho hated with all his heart, but he didn't have to be second any longer.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything here.
--
Minho wouldn’t have been seated amongst the royals in the birthday banquet if it wasn’t for Minseok’s constant begging and his butler -and self proclaimed best friend-, Kibum’s never-ending nagging. He wouldn’t have been there, bored out of his mind as his family chattered with their officials who constantly licked his father’s boots.
Minho would have been in his spacious room instead, in his study, hunched over books. He would have been reading about anything and everything. He would be looking over the city finances, their debt and so much more, just because he didn’t trust his father’s chancellor and officials. He would have been filling his brain with knowledge he never knew, like how to build ships or on the cultures and traditions of the neighboring countries.
Minho might have been out in their extensive garden, having tea with his mother, talking to her about issues of the city and she would listen attentively, agreeing with his words. He enjoyed the woman’s company very much, he did.
Minho might have been at the stables, brushing the hair of the horse he called Ghost. He might have been riding, leaping over streams and into the woods, coming home muddy, grimy, sweaty, but thoroughly satisfied. Minho might have been at the back of the castle, practicing with his sword his brother gave him on his sixteenth birthday. He might have been dancing with a ball around a plain field quite far from the castle ground, with a couple of servants he trusted very much.
But no, he was at his brother’s lavish birthday banquet instead, surrounded by fabric of all colors that draped down from the ceiling, decorating the throne room. Servants bustled in and out, pouring wine and carrying trays of food, replenishing the empty plates. Musicians sat at a corner of the court, plucking at strings and blowing into metal. People poured into the castle, bearing wishes and gifts for the crown prince they adored so very much.
Choi Minseok, the perfect prince and son. He excelled in everything, was nice and courteous, not to mention he was quite the ladies man. Minseok and Minho had a friendly rivalry, and they would compete at anything, just to see who’d win.
Minho loved Minseok very much, he did. The older boy was always nice to him, acknowledging his efforts, looking out for him. Sometimes Minseok would take Minho on trips to foreign lands, against the wishes of his father. Sometimes, they’d just play around in the gardens, racing like they always did when they were little. He always nursed Minho back to health if he was sick, even though he would be busy with studies and work- preparations for his reign as king, his father called it.
Sometimes though, Minho couldn’t help but to be angry, to be bitter. He always put in his best, burnt the midnight oil countless times, sprained his leg in an attempt to beat Minseok’s record at running, broke his leg while trying to scale the tower Minseok did with ease, and the list went on.
Minho wondered, more often than he’d like, why he even bothered trying to beat Minseok anymore. He thought he would have learnt his lesson when he was a little prince that Minseok would always win.
No matter how much Minho tried and did, he always placed second, with his brother effortlessly coming in first. Second. It was a position he hated with all his heart. Second prince, second place, second in his father’s eyes, a nobody in everybody’s eyes. Nobody ever acknowledged those who placed second, and he was no exception. As the adoring eyes of the people fell on Minseok, as did his father’s, Minho was left behind in his shadows. Nobody noticed the second prince, not ever.
Today was not going to be an exception, he knew. People passed by him like he was invisible, flocking to the crown prince instead. He knew that it was Minseok’s birthday banquet, and that it was only natural that they’d do that, but he still felt so very bitter inside.
And so he sipped his tea as his father and brother talked to the foreign dignitaries, conversing with his mother occasionally, most of the times daydreaming about what his life would be if he wasn’t a royal. ‘Much better’, he thought. ‘It would have been much better.’
The music and chatter came to a sudden stop when a group strode into the room, the people in the center of the room made way for them as they passed and Minho recognized them to be the courtesans, by the bronze choker they wore on their necks. They took their positions, and in no more than a minute, the music had started once again, and they begun to dance. Minho had no idea they entertained this way too, and he watched in wide-eyed wonderment as they moved their bodies to the music.
He recognized some of them to be men, and he wondered why they’d be in that group, wondering if his father and brother swung that way too, but he held his tongue. Their dance was a tad boring, he had to admit, but a certain dancer had stood out amongst the crowd, dancing energetically and his eyes widened a bit more.
Minho concluded that he was a boy, no older than him, probably in his teens, by his physique. The boy could have easily passed off as a woman, by the way he looked, by the way he swung those hips, and Minho sat up, leaning forward to get a closer look. The boy’s blonde locks framed his face perfectly, his clothes revealing his navel, his arms and Minho had the strangest urge to touch them.
The boy was wearing a bronze collar with a pearlescent sky blue gem in the middle, signifying that he was the crown prince’s possession, and Minho felt bitter again, but it was short-lived when he noticed that the boy was staring back at him. Not at his father, not at the disgusting officials, not at his perfect brother, but at him. Minho was certain that his heart skipped a beat when the boy smirked, his eyes never leaving his own for too long a period of time.
Minseok hadn’t missed the way Minho was staring at the boy, and turned to him, whispering into his ear. “That’s Lee Taemin, new to this court.” He chuckled when Minho gulped.
“Lee Taemin.” Minho repeated, voice soft and Minseok nodded, amused by the way his precious younger brother had been acting.
“He’s mine, his family had apparently sold him to the old hag a couple of weeks back.” Minseok added on, and Minho listened attentively, though his eyes were still glued to the boy in question. “You can have him if you want.”
Minho’s eyes snapped to his brother’s then, face disbelieving. “I what?” He asked, voice a little higher than his father would have liked, judging from the click of the tongue.
“You heard me, you can have him.” Minseok repeated nonchalantly, sipping his rice wine and Minho couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He was a little happy that Minseok gave Taemin to him, but he was a little angry with that. Taemin wasn’t an object he could just throw around. He wanted to yell at Minseok. Taemin was a gem that needed to be protected, to be kept safe, to be loved.
He held his tongue though, instead thanking his brother who smiled at him. Turning his attention back to Taemin, he noticed that the boy was still staring at him, and he grinned widely for what was probably the first time in a while.
‘He noticed.’ Minho thought, feeling like a teen with a crush.
He visited Taemin’s chamber that very night, well after celebrations had ended, and he found Taemin still in his performance robes, bare back facing him and Minho licked his lips as he shut the door behind him.
Taemin turned around almost immediately, eyes wide with shock when he noticed that the prince was in his presence, but it softened after a moment.
“My prince,” he whispered, bowing to Minho who walked in quick strides towards him, lifting his chin with his hand.
“Don’t.” Minho shook his head, voice barely a whisper, removing his hand before hovering it over his cheek, watching for Taemin’s reaction, waiting for permission before he cupped his cheek, pad of his thumb stroking the skin beneath it gently as Taemin leaned into his touch.
He watched Taemin close his eyes, moonlight filtering through his small window, through the dusty curtains, giving Taemin’s face a slow glow, and Minho thought that Taemin was the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on.
Minho removed his hand after a while, he moved it downwards, brushing it across the skin of his neck and Minho felt happy when Taemin watched his every move, shivering a little at his touch. He stroked the collar once, before unlocking it, removing the band from Taemin’s neck, throwing it into a corner of the room, the metal making a soft ‘clink’ when it collided with the stone ground.
Taemin smiled, cocking his head to a side. “So what now?” He asked when Minho winded his strong, toned arms around Taemin’s tiny waist, burying his nose into the crook of his neck. Minho liked the way Taemin smelt, something like apples and flowers, he couldn’t place a finger on it.
Minho honestly hadn’t thought carefully about what he’d do with Taemin now, but he was certain that he’d make Taemin his, maybe take him away to the summer castle his family used to go to, far from the city, far from prying eyes and learn everything about the boy. He was certain that he wanted to give Taemin everything he could offer. He was still a prince, even if he was very much invisible, and that meant access to their family’s fortune.
“First, my name’s Minho,” He mumbled, pulling Taemin closer to him, the courtesan’s arms automatically winding itself around his neck.
“I know. My name’s Lee Taemin, my prince.”
“I know.” Minho chuckled, not missing that twinkle in Taemin’s eyes.
He was quite certain his father would object. He could almost hear the man’s yells now. “How dare you, such audacity.” He would roar. “What would the people say?”
“Minho,” Taemin laughed, when the taller of the two started to move about, dancing around the room and he loved the way Taemin’s laugh sounded, loved the way his name rolled off the younger boy’s tongue. What he’d give to hear more of it.
“I intend to make you mine, love.” He whispered into the boy’s ear while they danced in the little space Taemin’s room provided, and Taemin rested his head on his shoulder, humming in response.
Quite frankly, Minho couldn’t give a rat’s ass about what they thought. Only Taemin’s opinion mattered, and he knew that he’d be second to none in Taemin’s eyes, as Taemin was in his.
--
...Well this turned out 1,000 words too long. OTL;; Originally wanted to keep it short, oh well. o3o;;a Felt like writing something like this, and uh. Yeah;; In my mind, Taemin would have become Minho's favourite/lover after that. Or something along those lines. Guess I rambled on enough, back to painting. Hope you guys enjoyed this!
Love, Allena.