[Fic] [Something Old, Something New] Something Borrowed, Something True
Title: [Something Old, Something New] Something Borrowed, Something True
Pairing: Joonmyun/Minseok
Rating: NC-17
Length: 6600w
Warnings: royal arranged marriage
Notes: Originally written for suholiday
Summary: Joonmyun doesn't want to get married.
Joonmyun’s always known that his future wasn’t truly his own. As the only son of the King - a crown prince and the one who will take his father’s place once he is gone - Joonmyun has been raised to accept that his life is to be lived for everyone else. Never himself.
When he was a boy, it was something he could easily accept because his parents were infallible. Strong and steadfast, they never steered him wrong. It was a privilege to bear the burden of an entire nation of people on his shoulders because he was born and raised to have that strength.
It was easy then, to pretend. He would play on the throne, a grin on his face as his friends bent their knee before him with imagined slights and problems for him to solve. It ended in laughter, playful running and his mother collecting him in her arms to steal him away for meals even as he protested that a strong King doesn’t need silly things like vegetables or baths.
With age came a bitterness that Joonmyun couldn’t have predicted. He would watch as the servants set baskets of fresh fruits and breads on the table, scrubbed the dirt from the floors, gathered the linens to take for washing. And he’d envy them. They were considered to be lesser, but they had a freedom that Joonmyun so desperately wanted to taste.
His friends - the sons of nobles - bore more restrictions, but yet maintained enough freedom for Joonmyun to always have that bitter reminder. He was constantly surrounded by people who had the ability to make their own choices and it ate away at him. It made him resent his parents and the lessons he was forced to endure as everyone else got to run off and play.
Political maneuvering and facts about the neighboring countries were drilled into his head. Etiquette and proper dictation, reading maps and between the lines were all that mattered. As his friends rode horses and indulged in games of the heart with the ladies at court, Joonmyun was suffocating in his father’s study with the ministers and advisors as he listened in on meetings.
“Honor and pride,” his father would say after. “You must have both but know when they are necessary and when they are not.”
Joonmyun never really understood it. Especially after the first time he was introduced to a prince from a nation to the far northeast. Minseok was his name and he’d been amiable enough from what Joonmyun gathered. He hadn’t particularly stood out; Joonmyun was accustomed to foreign royalty and dignitaries spending a few days or a week in his home where he had to play host. The pleasantries never went past the formalities, barely a scratch on the surface of who these people really are.
What he hadn’t been expecting was to be informed that one day, he would marry Prince Minseok to bring their nations together. It was an honor to be promised to Prince Minseok and yet Joonmyun’s personal pride had his fists balling at his sides and his mouth in a thin line as he controlled his actions in front of his father. In front of his King.
He’d known it was coming. One of the first lessons impressed upon him as a child was that he would marry someone who would benefit their country. He just hadn’t expected to be hit with it so suddenly. Perhaps if they had told him before Minseok arrived that first time, he could have made an effort to be friendlier, to open a conversation with words of more substance. But Minseok was already gone, headed back to his own country.
He wonders if Minseok had known he was coming to meet his future husband or if he had been just as taken by surprise as Joonmyun.
There are long ceremonial robes draped across Joonmyun’s shoulders, several layers of soft fabric beneath them to weigh him down further. Red has always been a color of power and strength and yet Joonmyun peers at his ashen face in the full length mirror and feels anything but powerful and strong. His pallor is more reminiscent of the white cloth hidden underneath and he itches to unbind the ties that hold the robes together, letting them fall to the floor. His attendants pay his sour mood no mind, happily chirping about the festivities that accompany a royal wedding.
It’s a double celebration. Joonmyun is twenty years old today, the same age his father was when he married Joonmyun’s mother. The night before, he’d mustered the courage to ask his father if he’d been apprehensive before his wedding, if he’d had doubts. His father had placed his hands on Joonmyun’s shoulders and plainly said, “Never. It was my duty and now it is yours.” The words brought no comfort when he couldn’t sleep, and they offer none now.
Joonmyun doesn’t want this.
He’s sure Minseok is a decent person. He’d never gotten the chance to find out for himself. They’d met but once and that had been months ago. Minseok has been a guest in the palace for a few days now, but Joonmyun hasn’t so much as caught a peek of him in the halls or at the table for meals. He’d been informed that Minseok was adjusting. Settling into his new home.
Joonmyun’s gut twists, lowering his arms to his sides once his robes are secure. In another room, Minseok is undergoing the same treatment. Joonmyun knows all of Minseok’s belongings will be brought to Joonmyun’s bedroom during the ceremony. He’s losing his freedom and privacy all in one fell swoop.
With a sigh and a turn when one of the tailors asks, Joonmyun contemplates alternative arrangements once the excitement has died down.
Joonmyun doesn’t get to see his parents before the ceremony. As a Prince, the only person with the power to marry him is a King and his father looks proud standing before the hundreds of guests in the packed hall. Joonmyun takes his place at the open doors, awaiting his betrothed. The whispered conversations become louder, sharper and Joonmyun tries not to let their words filter through the buzzing in his ears. He does sweep his indifferent gaze over the spectacle of the high ranking citizens now dressed in their best, all out to impress. It’s almost as if they’re all flowers that popped from the floor, adorned in the whimsical colors of spring except for the rare few who dared wear the more vibrant shades of royalty. It’s beautiful.
It’s beautiful and Joonmyun feels like a fraud.
Joonmyun doesn’t want this.
He sees his parents together. They were a bad match. After his birth, his mother moved into her own rooms in the palace and the few times his parents actually speak to each other, it’s always concerning Joonmyun and his future. That’s not the life Joonmyun wants. To give his heart and soul to his country? They’re asking too much of him.
The heavy weight of a hand settles in the crook of Joonmyun’s arm and he startles, wide eyes blinking over to see Minseok at his side. He’d been so lost in his own mind that he hadn’t heard him approaching. Joonmyun takes in the vivid blue of Minseok’s robes, the stitches and embellishments in a shade of silver that shines in the light. His face betrays nothing. Minseok appears as impassive as Joonmyun himself.
The hall goes quiet, like the silence before a great storm, and Joonmyun takes in a deep breath to calm his racing heart when the music cuts through the air. It’s learned behavior that has him leading Minseok down the narrow aisle, past the guests. Minseok keeps pace beside him with ease. Joonmyun’s mother had made him practice with her for several hours every day for the last week until she deemed it perfect.
She’s beaming when he passes, only taking a few more steps before they’re standing before his father, the King and the instrument of his will. Joonmyun turns to face Minseok as Minseok does the same. And the King begins his rehearsed speech. Joonmyun knows it by heart.
He spends the time studying Minseok. He’s an attractive man, although not perhaps the type of man Joonmyun would have chosen for himself. His hair is short, colored the same soft brown as his catlike eyes and his lips are pink, full, slightly parted. Minseok has the bearing of a Prince. Even as Joonmyun’s father binds them together, red silk ribbon looped around their hands and tied around their wrists, his face betrays nothing of his emotions.
Joonmyun feels sick, his throat closing as he fights to breathe through it. There’s no turning back. Music plays through the hall, the guests rising to their feet in celebration and Joonmyun’s mother is smiling through the tears trailing down her painted cheeks. Joonmyun is going to be sick.
He stands at the doors with Minseok, politely accepting the well wishes and compliments of every guest who passes. They’re all headed to the gardens for the celebration that will last until after the sun sets. His mother, of course, had been the mastermind behind the party so Joonmyun isn’t sure what to expect.
With Minseok once again on his arm, the two travel silently down to join the rest. Joonmyun pauses once, steps faltering and Minseok is peering at him with furrowed eyebrows. Questioning. Joonmyun shakes it off and continues.
It still hasn’t quite hit him yet. He parades Minseok around as his husband, sits at the highest table beside him to enjoy the ambiance of the celebration around him. . .and he feels like a fraud. People dance and they sing and they steal the flower garlands woven around the long tables filled with mouth-watering desserts, and they make crowns for themselves.
Joonmyun is envious of their frivolity, wishing he could be in such high spirits. The smile on his mouth is fake and he sips on wine until it’s all he can taste. Beside him, Minseok is occupied in conversation with several of the guests. He’s smiling, laughing, enjoying himself as the splash of pink on his cheeks deepens. He’s been drinking the wine too.
Joonmyun sees his mother dancing with one of the Lords, and his father standing to the side with a circle of people around him as he speaks. His father has always loved an audience, whether it be impressionable young noblemen wanting to garner favor or the attentive glance of a high born Lady who has yet to take a husband. His parents should be together. At least for this. At least for him.
Joonmyun drains the remainder of his wine, refusing the servant who offers to refill his glass. This isn’t a time for losing himself, but for steeling himself for what’s to come.
The sun goes down, but the celebration thrives. Brilliant fireworks light up the sky in a rainbow of colors that shower back down to the ground to disappear in dewy grass. Joonmyun finds himself smiling, thanking his mother as she insists he at least try the cake because she’d spent forever down in the kitchens deciding on the perfect flavor. Mostly, Joonmyun pities the baker, but the cake does taste amazing.
It’s Minseok who decides he’s ready to retire for the evening. He’s polite, thanking everyone around them before offering his hand for Joonmyun to take. Joonmyun accepts graciously, standing to his feet and quietly slipping away with his husband at his side.
“You looked like you needed to get out of there,” Minseok whispers softly the moment they’re safely inside.
Joonmyun looks at him, head tilted and lips parted to speak, but he isn’t sure what to say.
Minseok squeezes his hand and offers Joonmyun a smile. “You’re going to have to take the lead here,” he adds. “I still don’t know my way around.”
Joonmyun guides Minseok forward and through the main hallways instead of the more discreet passages that he would normally use to get to his room. It occurs to him that this may be the most he’s heard Minseok ever speak. And he feels mildly guilty that Minseok may have left the party early on Joonmyun’s behalf.
There are a set of rooms in the west wing that belong solely to Joonmyun. The furthest most room, the one situated directly at the end of the hall, is Joonmyun’s bedroom. He opens the door and allows Minseok to enter first. Minseok’s trunks are stacked near to the bed, an intrusion that doesn’t go unnoticed, but Joonmyun knows this is how things must be. At least for now.
There are duties expected of him, physical claims that aren’t as foreboding as he thought they might be when presented with Minseok standing by the bed, working open the ties on his robes. They may not know each other, but the little wine still left in Joonmyun aids to shake off the shackles of reservation and the itch of arousal begins under heated skin as Minseok shrugs his way out of blue and stands in white.
Minseok turns then, eyes dark when they rest on Joonmyun’s unmoving figure still by the doorway. “Can you help me with the knots?” he inquires.
Joonmyun knows Minseok could easily undo them himself, but the offer is open. Broad. Welcome. Joonmyun takes it, shutting the door and striding over to where his husband awaits him. His fingers pluck at the ties along the sides until they loosen and Minseok runs his cotton shirt over his head.
This close, Minseok is strikingly handsome and Joonmyun runs his fingers along Minseok’s bare chest, letting the tips brush over defined muscle until he reaches the top of Minseok’s pants. There’s a question in Minseok’s gaze, an inquiry that Joonmyun answers when he doesn’t pull away as Minseok leans in enough to brush their lips together.
Minseok’s breath is hot on his mouth and Joonmyun’s stomach clenches, anticipation running through his veins. His head is foggy with it and he drinks down the soft noise that escapes Minseok’s mouth when Joonmyun kisses him. Minseok tastes like wine with a hint of icing from the cake and Joonmyun chases it as hands fumble, tangling in fabric to get clothing off.
This wouldn’t be the first time Joonmyun’s bedded someone he has no other interest in. He knows where his own boundaries lie and none of them are crossed when he pushes Minseok onto the bed and crawls between his legs, staring down at him as if Minseok is something to conquer.
Minseok lets him.
His head tips back, mouth open, panting as Joonmyun’s oil slick fingers work him open. Joonmyun watches as pink flourishes over Minseok’s cheeks, neck, chest. He pushes against Joonmyun, hands twisted in the crimson comforter as his legs spread further. Joonmyun feels heated, leaning over Minseok to nose along his jaw, demand his attention as he finally presses inside.
Minseok clenches around him, gasping, trembling and a hand burying in Joonmyun’s hair to hold tight as Joonmyun finally sinks all the way in. The warmth of Minseok’s thighs wrap around Joonmyun’s hips, urging him to move and Joonmyun obeys, stuttering out a low moan when he slides out and back in. The oil smells of rosemary and it fills Joonmyun’s head until he’s dizzy.
Joonmyun would have to be blind not to see beauty in the way Minseok arches into him, his pink lips shining and parted. Waiting. Joonmyun kisses him. He kisses Minseok as he thrusts into him quicker, letting the pleasure wind through him until he’s a slave to it. Minseok moves with him, arms curving around Joonmyun’s back, hands over his shoulders to keep from moving.
Joonmyun’s head rests in the crook of Minseok’s neck, forearms braced on the bed and hips rocking, grinding, pushing just as Minseok’s legs guide him. Neither of them is going to last. Not like this. Joonmyun balances on one arm, reaching between them to fit his hand around Minseok’s cock. It throbs in his hold and Minseok seems to lock around Joonmyun, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut.
Colors dance behind Joonmyun’s eyelids and he jerks forward, groaning aloud when the pressure finally releases. Minseok is louder, nails scraping down Joonmyun’s back as he comes over his stomach and chest, some of it dripping down Joonmyun’s fingers. Joonmyun’s head is spinning, his throat dry and he rolls off Minseok, spent and tired.
Joonmyun musters the energy to wet a cloth and hand it to Minseok, walking back to the basin to clean himself before crawling into bed. Neither of them speak and Joonmyun falls asleep with his back to his new husband.
A slant of light falls over the bed, pulling Joonmyun from sleep even as Minseok slumbers peacefully beside him. It takes a moment for Joonmyun to remember, blinking reality into focus as Minseok’s face clears. He’d thought maybe he’d been dreaming, but Minseok is very real and irreversibly married to him.
The night before was nice. Impersonal, yes, but Joonmyun had enjoyed it. But he holds no illusions. He performed just as he was supposed to and it isn’t going to lead to some revelation that all his doubts were unfounded. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen from here, but he’s going to take as much control over it as he can.
Joonmyun spends the next three days avoiding Minseok. He rises early, before the servants are sent to wake them, and stays tucked in his father’s study long into the night to ensure Minseok is asleep before he climbs into bed. There are heavy bags under his eyes and his head is pounding. He knows this is his own fault and yet he can’t help it. He doesn’t want to be married. He doesn’t want Minseok. It’s simply easier to pretend he doesn’t exist.
Joonmyun can be terribly stubborn.
But even he has his limits, exhaustion from too little sleep finally weighing him down enough to have Joonmyun dragging his feet as he sneaks through hidden passages to his bedroom. A floor length mirror conceals the entrance into his room and he slips inside, sighing in relief at the sight of his bed. Joonmyun is almost there when a voice slices through the silence.
“You do not like me.” It’s not a question; it’s an accusation. Minseok is standing near the corner, probably having come from the small reading room that can only be entered through Joonmyun’s bedroom.
Joonmyun is far too tired for this. “I do not know you well enough to like or dislike you,” he answers honestly. He doesn’t stop his path to the bed, but he does sit on the edge instead of laying down like he was planning.
“Then why are you so intent on avoiding any opportunity to find out?” Minseok presses, his chin held high and his eyes focused on Joonmyun who is now beginning to slouch.
“Because then it will be real.” Joonmyun watches Minseok’s face for a reaction, but there isn’t one. “And I don’t want it to be.”
This time, Minseok’s upper lip curls just the littlest bit and his eyes narrow. “You sound like a child,” he responds, arms folded over his chest. He’s in light green today, with gold stitched lotus flowers decorating the fabric. It compliments him well. “The time for wistful dreaming is over. Regardless of your desires, I am your husband. Do not pretend that it is only you who is unhappy with this arrangement. At least you still have your home and everyone you know surrounding you. I am in a foreign nation with a boy of a prince for a husband who seeks to ostracize me further.”
Guilt wells in Joonmyun’s stomach, bubbling into his chest as his shoulders drop. Minseok is already leaving, a spin on the ball of his foot and his silhouette disappearing through one of the hidden doorways. One of the servants must be teaching him the layout.
Joonmyun hadn’t even thought that his inattentiveness would have any sort of effect on Minseok, but he realizes now that it was a selfish assumption. The impact of his actions hadn’t occurred to him. If he was decisively avoiding his new husband, then everyone would notice. It can’t be easy here for Minseok and Joonmyun is only making it worse.
He knows very well that’s he’s being unreasonable, but being called out on it makes it worse. Joonmyun sighs, falling atop his soft bed and staring at the canopy overhead. His parents taught him how to appear to those around him - a strong demeanor when in the presence of those in power, compassion for the subjects who are the reason for their great nation, guarded trust to those closest to him. He’s never supposed to be himself except for when he’s alone or with his husband.
Joonmyun thinks Minseok may not enjoy the man he really is. And Joonmyun can’t blame him.
Joonmyun foregoes his nap with intentions of going to bed while Minseok is still awake as a show of his willingness to meet him halfway. Minseok doesn’t speak to him, but he does roll toward Joonmyun and take his feet between his own before falling asleep.
It’s progress.
They eat breakfast together in the morning. Another step in the right direction. Joonmyun watches with an appreciative eye as Minseok thanks every servant he sees with murmured words of sincerity and a smile that brightens his entire face. Joonmyun is drawn to it as a moth is to a flame. Enraptured a little if only for a moment. His mother and father, along with all his friends, usually pretend the servants don’t exist and it hits Joonmyun right in the chest. He thought he was the only one who paid attention.
It’s not often that Joonmyun is taken by surprise. He’s been raised to notice details, to always pay attention to his surroundings because sometimes it can make all the difference. He had been so intent on shutting Minseok out that he knows nothing about him and Joonmyun means to change it.
He begins with the small observations, like the way Minseok prefers the sleeves of his robes to fall past his fingers so he can hide his hands and how sometimes, he lifts his hand - robe and all - to hide his mouth when he laughs. Minseok also sweats easily, remarking that he’s used to much cooler weather. When they’re outside in the gardens, Joonmyun wipes Minseok’s forehead with his handkerchief and Minseok says that adjusting to the warmth is going to take time.
It doesn’t stop Minseok from enjoying himself. He especially seems to thrive while visiting the bubbling spring that runs through part of the main garden. He will sit on the edge after carefully slipping off his robes - running his hands through the water and splashing some in Joonmyun’s direction playfully because Joonmyun refuses to take off his robes no matter how enticing joining Minseok may seem.
Minseok blossoms like a flower in Spring, drinking in the sun and the fresh air with a peaceful expression. Joonmyun envies it.
The one thing that Joonmyun doesn’t notice is that over the days, Minseok is learning him too.
Despite the limited time available for them to share, Minseok has seemed to pick up on Joonmyun’s need to unwind after he’s been subjected to far too many lectures from men with outdated ideals, who try to trap him in the hallways to listen. Joonmyun is dragging his feet, already picking at the ties on his robes to get them off quick. He knows Minseok is waiting for him in his bed. Their bed.
Joonmyun can’t deny that Minseok is earning his welcome. They’ve been opening up about each other over breakfast, stealing lunch on the go from the kitchen in order to escape the atmosphere of peering eyes and inquisitive ears. They usually wind up in the gardens because Minseok prefers them. Joonmyun had outgrown his fascination with the twisting maze of high bushes when he was a child and finally memorized his way to the center and back. Minseok seems to bring back that excitement.
But what Joonmyun prefers most is the evening when they’re both stripped of royal robes and responsibilities, free to relax and converse without anyone around. Joonmyun knows that Minseok has duties of his own and Minseok enjoys knowing he’s of some use.
But tonight, Joonmyun doesn't feel up to speaking. His temples are throbbing and his muscles are wound tight. He would call for someone to fill a hot bath for him, but he wouldn’t have the strength to keep from falling asleep in the water.
His emerald robes fall to the floor at the door where someone will collect them in the morning for washing. Minseok glances up from where he’s already in bed, watching silently as Joonmyun rolls his shoulders and then his head until it cracks and releases a fraction of the tension. The trek over the floor, toes curling in the cream rug, seems to take forever. Joonmyun crawls up one leg at a time and drops face first onto his pillow.
He feels the bed moving, but still doesn’t anticipate the weight of Minseok on his lower back. Joonmyun still has his shirt on and Minseok’s hands are warm on his skin when he runs them underneath. The touch is intimate, startling. They haven’t done more than occasionally link fingers for a few brief moments since their wedding night. Joonmyun hadn’t realized he missed having someone be there for him when he needs it.
His shirt rucks up, caught on Minseok’s wrists when he rubs over Joonmyun’s aching muscles. He’s been strained for too long, holding himself back lest he insult some high Lord who thinks he pulls more weight with the King than the King’s own son. Never let them get to you, he’d been taught. He never knew how hard that would be to follow. Every single one of them thinks they know all the secrets to running an entire nation when they only see a small fraction of the picture.
Minseok’s thumbs push against the sides of Joonmyun’s spine and Joonmyun lets out a grunt of approval that’s muffled in the pillow. It’s so easy to let go, to let Minseok smooth his hands over tense muscle until he’s loose and pliant. A buzz sets in and Joonmyun doesn’t know why it’s important that he sees Minseok, but it is.
He twists and Minseok raises to his knees, his face one of worry when Joonmyun stares at him from his back. It’s only when Joonmyun sits up, a palm sliding smoothly along Minseok’s neck to bring him down, that Minseok relaxes and lowers his weight again.
“Thank you,” Joonmyun murmurs against Minseok’s lips.
Minseok stutters out a breath and Joonmyun can’t resist. He kisses him, tentative and seeking, unsure if this is even something Minseok wants. Minseok slumps against him, hands in Joonmyun’s hair to tip his head back as he licks into his mouth.
“Let me take care of you tonight,” Minseok whispers, gently pushing Joonmyun until he’s lying on the bed again.
It’s new, giving in to someone else. Joonmyun’s always been expected to take the lead, to keep all the control and with Minseok - with Minseok he doesn’t have to. Minseok steals his breath, keeps Joonmyun’s mind pleasantly blank as he undresses them both, pulling the jar of oil from beneath the bed.
There’s a darkness to Minseok’s eyes, a knowing upturn of his lips when his palms slide between Joonmyun’s thighs to push them open. His eyes stay trained on Joonmyun’s face even as he dips to take the crown of Joonmyun’s cock between his lips. Joonmyun lets out a whine, jaw slack and hips aching to rock into the heat that slowly envelops him.
He hisses through his teeth when Minseok works a slick finger into him, matching the way he works Joonmyun open with the bobbing of his head. Joonmyun can’t think, can’t do anything other than take everything that Minseok gives him - unfiltered moans of pleasure spilling into the air.
It’s different than their first time. When Minseok’s cock presses inside him, their hands are linked and Minseok is hovering over Joonmyun, his eyes so full of promise. A knot lodges in Joonmyun’s throat that he can’t swallow down and he is swept along with the waves of pleasure that crest through him with every push of Minseok’s hips, every kiss that drops onto his mouth, his jaw, his neck.
Minseok bends Joonmyun’s knee to his chest, keeping it pinned and Joonmyun cries out because it feels so good. Too good. It’s euphoric, addicting, and he begs for Minseok to go faster even as he knows he’s about to reach his own limit. Minseok listens, sweat beading along his brow as his face swims in Joonmyun’s vision.
Joonmyun moans out Minseok’s name when he comes, body arching toward Minseok and tightening around him as he shudders. He feels lighter than air with only Minseok to hold him down, sturdy hands to keep him grounded as Minseok throbs inside him and stutters to a stop. He’s boneless, content with not moving even as Minseok slowly pulls out, leaving him empty.
He could fall asleep if he wasn’t so itchy. Joonmyun thinks about moving, but Minseok comes back, running a wet cloth over Joonmyun’s stomach and between his legs. And yeah, Joonmyun reasons he could get used to this.
Neither of them get under the blankets. Not yet. But they lay on their sides, facing each other in silence for a while. “I spoke with my father today,” Joonmyun divulges, finally voicing aloud his thoughts.
Minseok’s eyebrow raises. “Oh?”
Joonmyun hums, smiling a little as Minseok pulls him just that much closer with an arm around his waist. Honestly, it’s still too hot to be so close, but he doesn’t mind. “Yeah. He agreed to let you accompany us during council meetings.”
“Can’t stand to be away from me, can you?” Minseok teases.
Joonmyun rolls his eyes, pushing at Minseok’s chest, but it’s half-hearted at best. “You’re my equal. When I take the throne, you are going to hold just as much weight as I do. Unfortunately, that means you get to deal with the pompous old men who always think they’re right.”
“If I can manage you, I can manage them.”
Joonmyun kicks at Minseok’s leg even as he laughs. Minseok rolls, pinning Joonmyun underneath him.
“I happen to know that there are no council meetings tomorrow. Come to town with me.”
Joonmyun peers up at Minseok in question. He knows there’s a town that stretches around the palace. Joonmyun has seen it from the outer wall, safe behind the parapets. But he’s never been to it. His parents have never allowed it. The most he’s ever been allowed is when he’s locked inside a carriage, surrounded by a dozen guards on horseback as he’s escorted to and from the palace, but that’s only when it’s necessary for him to leave. “I can’t,” Joonmyun answers weakly.
“Why?”
“I’m not allowed.”
Minseok’s eyes widen. “You’ve never been?”
Joonmyun shakes his head, wondering how it is that Minseok manages to get away with things he can not. “Have you?”
“I’ve snuck out a few times,” Minseok confesses.
“Why would you?”
“Honestly Joonmyun,” Minseok sighs. “How can you lead the people when you don’t know the people?”
Morning sees Joonmyun dressed in clothing well below his station. He would query where Minseok procured such articles, but he’s not entirely sure he wants to know. They fit well enough, including a hood that conceals Joonmyun’s face. Minseok isn’t as well known so he keeps his hood down even as they steal around the back of the stables and toward what Minseok has said is an exit that leads to the town.
Joonmyun still has his doubts. He’s never been outside the palace walls without several bodyguards, and he has most certainly never left on foot. It’s an adventure. He clings to Minseok’s hand, letting Minseok’s excitement pull them along until Joonmyun is outside familiar territory and rushing down a well-worn dirt path.
All Joonmyun’s given as an excuse for his disappearance is that he’s showing Minseok the grounds. It wasn’t much and he’s nervous - stomach twisting because this doesn’t feel safe.
However, when the thatched roofs of the town come into view, his nerves are all but forgotten. He’s smiling as Minseok drags him along, the two of them now running down the path. There are others ahead, a few people who are lingering in the field between the palace and the town, and Minseok gives them a jovial wave as they pass.
“I haven’t been everywhere yet,” Minseok explains, pulling Joonmyun close to his side as they approach. The weight of Minseok’s arm is welcome around Joonmyun’s waist and he falls in step easily. “But the market is the best place to see the people.”
True to his word, as they walk past the small houses around the outskirts and into the town itself, stalls are being set up alongside the road. People mill about, voices all blended together as a sort of organized chaos greets him. Joonmyun watches someone wrestle a chicken into a crate and stands, stupefied as Minseok laughs at him. The smallest things bring him new information.
The pair indulge in the aroma of freshly baked breads, stop to admire the fine cloth that’s been laid out and the vendor next door who attempts to outshine with trinkets of gold and vivid colored stones. Joonmyun is curious as he watches a blacksmith at his craft, standing long enough to break into a sweat from the billowing fire before Minseok is pulling him further.
Children giggle and dart through the crowds, brushing against and running between Joonmyun and Minseok without a thought. This is how Joonmyun’s people live. They barter and haggle, their cheeks rosy and laughter spilling into the streets.
“Is it always like this?” Joonmyun asks, watching as a juggler passes and his flaming batons circle high in the sky.
“Your people are happy,” Minseok answers. “That’s not to say it won’t ever change, but you have to pay attention. You have to listen. You have to be present and not constantly locked behind walls of stone.”
Joonmyun takes Minseok’s words to heart. These are his people. He wonders if his parents have ever walked down this road. He wonders if they ever dared dirty their feet in the sand or split a warm cinnamon roll with the pouting children because the smiles on their faces were worth it. He turns back and sees the fond look on Minseok’s face, breaking out into a grin and he knows. Joonmyun knows this is worth it.
Minseok is . . . Minseok is good for him.
It’s nearing sunset when the two sneak back into the palace, heading straight for a bath because they’re dirty and sweaty. Still, Joonmyun can’t stop smiling. And he’ll never forget today. He’ll never forget that Minseok gave this to him.
It gets easier. Joonmyun will wake up in the morning and his first instinct is to roll away from the heat of Minseok’s body pressed to his, but he’s learning to adapt. He’s not used to having someone at his side, someone who is now a more integral part of his daily life and that takes its toll.
Joonmyun doesn’t shut Minseok out. Not like he had before. There are still times when he needs to escape, shut himself away to be alone just to sort out his head. And when he reappears, Minseok keeps his distance until Joonmyun reaches out for him first.
Everyone else seems to take a liking to Minseok as well. And much to Joonmyun’s dissatisfaction, everyone includes the people he used to call friend. The ones he pushed away under his father’s counsel. He knows now that it was a mistake and he worries those are burnt bridges that can never be rebuilt.
Minseok, however, gets along with them well enough. They’re all in the hall, the King sitting in his throne above them all as Nobles bend the knee and tell him of their comings and goings. Joonmyun has always been encouraged to mingle with their guests and he does. To an extent. It’s impersonal and done with a mask of polite interest, unlike Minseok. He seems to enjoy it.
Joonmyun watches, drawn to the way Minseok smiles, how his entire expression opens up when he laughs. He’s speaking with familiar faces and he’s so genuine that this knot of jealousy coils tight in Joonmyun’s gut when someone leans in too close. He tries to swallow it down, but it’s persistent. Demanding. Joonmyun finds himself walking over, silently fitting himself against Minseok’s side to wrap a possessive arm around his waist.
Minseok glances at him knowingly and Joonmyun knows he’s been caught. Thankfully, no one else seems to notice.
“I didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Minseok whispers later. His back is to the wall, his face cast in shadow because Joonmyun hadn’t the patience to wait until they were safely locked in their bedroom. They’re still in a narrow secret passage, somewhere between the west wing and the library. And all Joonmyun knows is that he needs to get this out.
“I didn’t either,” Joonmyun freely admits just before he kisses Minseok again. They’re still in their robes. Today Minseok is in peach and he looks just as delectable, his cheeks darkening to match as Joonmyun kisses him breathless again and again.
Minseok is laughing, unable to help himself and Joonmyun feels foolish. He pulls away, frowning, but Minseok is quick to grab him, fingers around Joonmyun’s wrist to haul him back. “I like it,” he murmurs, mouth against Joonmyun’s as he takes the next kiss. “I like you. Husband.”
Joonmyun doesn’t realize until later. Much later. (After Minseok had dropped to his knees and wrapped his pretty pink lips around Joonmyun’s cock until he was filling the passage with echoed moans of Minseok’s name.) He doesn’t realize until later that the word husband hadn’t filled him with cold dread, but with a warmth that he’d never imagined. They still have a journey to travel together and it won’t be easy. Not when Joonmyun is so used to closing people out. But he thinks - he knows - that with Minseok at his side to keep his head on straight, they’ll do just fine.
Pairing: Joonmyun/Minseok
Rating: NC-17
Length: 6600w
Warnings: royal arranged marriage
Notes: Originally written for suholiday
Summary: Joonmyun doesn't want to get married.
Joonmyun’s always known that his future wasn’t truly his own. As the only son of the King - a crown prince and the one who will take his father’s place once he is gone - Joonmyun has been raised to accept that his life is to be lived for everyone else. Never himself.
When he was a boy, it was something he could easily accept because his parents were infallible. Strong and steadfast, they never steered him wrong. It was a privilege to bear the burden of an entire nation of people on his shoulders because he was born and raised to have that strength.
It was easy then, to pretend. He would play on the throne, a grin on his face as his friends bent their knee before him with imagined slights and problems for him to solve. It ended in laughter, playful running and his mother collecting him in her arms to steal him away for meals even as he protested that a strong King doesn’t need silly things like vegetables or baths.
With age came a bitterness that Joonmyun couldn’t have predicted. He would watch as the servants set baskets of fresh fruits and breads on the table, scrubbed the dirt from the floors, gathered the linens to take for washing. And he’d envy them. They were considered to be lesser, but they had a freedom that Joonmyun so desperately wanted to taste.
His friends - the sons of nobles - bore more restrictions, but yet maintained enough freedom for Joonmyun to always have that bitter reminder. He was constantly surrounded by people who had the ability to make their own choices and it ate away at him. It made him resent his parents and the lessons he was forced to endure as everyone else got to run off and play.
Political maneuvering and facts about the neighboring countries were drilled into his head. Etiquette and proper dictation, reading maps and between the lines were all that mattered. As his friends rode horses and indulged in games of the heart with the ladies at court, Joonmyun was suffocating in his father’s study with the ministers and advisors as he listened in on meetings.
“Honor and pride,” his father would say after. “You must have both but know when they are necessary and when they are not.”
Joonmyun never really understood it. Especially after the first time he was introduced to a prince from a nation to the far northeast. Minseok was his name and he’d been amiable enough from what Joonmyun gathered. He hadn’t particularly stood out; Joonmyun was accustomed to foreign royalty and dignitaries spending a few days or a week in his home where he had to play host. The pleasantries never went past the formalities, barely a scratch on the surface of who these people really are.
What he hadn’t been expecting was to be informed that one day, he would marry Prince Minseok to bring their nations together. It was an honor to be promised to Prince Minseok and yet Joonmyun’s personal pride had his fists balling at his sides and his mouth in a thin line as he controlled his actions in front of his father. In front of his King.
He’d known it was coming. One of the first lessons impressed upon him as a child was that he would marry someone who would benefit their country. He just hadn’t expected to be hit with it so suddenly. Perhaps if they had told him before Minseok arrived that first time, he could have made an effort to be friendlier, to open a conversation with words of more substance. But Minseok was already gone, headed back to his own country.
He wonders if Minseok had known he was coming to meet his future husband or if he had been just as taken by surprise as Joonmyun.
There are long ceremonial robes draped across Joonmyun’s shoulders, several layers of soft fabric beneath them to weigh him down further. Red has always been a color of power and strength and yet Joonmyun peers at his ashen face in the full length mirror and feels anything but powerful and strong. His pallor is more reminiscent of the white cloth hidden underneath and he itches to unbind the ties that hold the robes together, letting them fall to the floor. His attendants pay his sour mood no mind, happily chirping about the festivities that accompany a royal wedding.
It’s a double celebration. Joonmyun is twenty years old today, the same age his father was when he married Joonmyun’s mother. The night before, he’d mustered the courage to ask his father if he’d been apprehensive before his wedding, if he’d had doubts. His father had placed his hands on Joonmyun’s shoulders and plainly said, “Never. It was my duty and now it is yours.” The words brought no comfort when he couldn’t sleep, and they offer none now.
Joonmyun doesn’t want this.
He’s sure Minseok is a decent person. He’d never gotten the chance to find out for himself. They’d met but once and that had been months ago. Minseok has been a guest in the palace for a few days now, but Joonmyun hasn’t so much as caught a peek of him in the halls or at the table for meals. He’d been informed that Minseok was adjusting. Settling into his new home.
Joonmyun’s gut twists, lowering his arms to his sides once his robes are secure. In another room, Minseok is undergoing the same treatment. Joonmyun knows all of Minseok’s belongings will be brought to Joonmyun’s bedroom during the ceremony. He’s losing his freedom and privacy all in one fell swoop.
With a sigh and a turn when one of the tailors asks, Joonmyun contemplates alternative arrangements once the excitement has died down.
Joonmyun doesn’t get to see his parents before the ceremony. As a Prince, the only person with the power to marry him is a King and his father looks proud standing before the hundreds of guests in the packed hall. Joonmyun takes his place at the open doors, awaiting his betrothed. The whispered conversations become louder, sharper and Joonmyun tries not to let their words filter through the buzzing in his ears. He does sweep his indifferent gaze over the spectacle of the high ranking citizens now dressed in their best, all out to impress. It’s almost as if they’re all flowers that popped from the floor, adorned in the whimsical colors of spring except for the rare few who dared wear the more vibrant shades of royalty. It’s beautiful.
It’s beautiful and Joonmyun feels like a fraud.
Joonmyun doesn’t want this.
He sees his parents together. They were a bad match. After his birth, his mother moved into her own rooms in the palace and the few times his parents actually speak to each other, it’s always concerning Joonmyun and his future. That’s not the life Joonmyun wants. To give his heart and soul to his country? They’re asking too much of him.
The heavy weight of a hand settles in the crook of Joonmyun’s arm and he startles, wide eyes blinking over to see Minseok at his side. He’d been so lost in his own mind that he hadn’t heard him approaching. Joonmyun takes in the vivid blue of Minseok’s robes, the stitches and embellishments in a shade of silver that shines in the light. His face betrays nothing. Minseok appears as impassive as Joonmyun himself.
The hall goes quiet, like the silence before a great storm, and Joonmyun takes in a deep breath to calm his racing heart when the music cuts through the air. It’s learned behavior that has him leading Minseok down the narrow aisle, past the guests. Minseok keeps pace beside him with ease. Joonmyun’s mother had made him practice with her for several hours every day for the last week until she deemed it perfect.
She’s beaming when he passes, only taking a few more steps before they’re standing before his father, the King and the instrument of his will. Joonmyun turns to face Minseok as Minseok does the same. And the King begins his rehearsed speech. Joonmyun knows it by heart.
He spends the time studying Minseok. He’s an attractive man, although not perhaps the type of man Joonmyun would have chosen for himself. His hair is short, colored the same soft brown as his catlike eyes and his lips are pink, full, slightly parted. Minseok has the bearing of a Prince. Even as Joonmyun’s father binds them together, red silk ribbon looped around their hands and tied around their wrists, his face betrays nothing of his emotions.
Joonmyun feels sick, his throat closing as he fights to breathe through it. There’s no turning back. Music plays through the hall, the guests rising to their feet in celebration and Joonmyun’s mother is smiling through the tears trailing down her painted cheeks. Joonmyun is going to be sick.
He stands at the doors with Minseok, politely accepting the well wishes and compliments of every guest who passes. They’re all headed to the gardens for the celebration that will last until after the sun sets. His mother, of course, had been the mastermind behind the party so Joonmyun isn’t sure what to expect.
With Minseok once again on his arm, the two travel silently down to join the rest. Joonmyun pauses once, steps faltering and Minseok is peering at him with furrowed eyebrows. Questioning. Joonmyun shakes it off and continues.
It still hasn’t quite hit him yet. He parades Minseok around as his husband, sits at the highest table beside him to enjoy the ambiance of the celebration around him. . .and he feels like a fraud. People dance and they sing and they steal the flower garlands woven around the long tables filled with mouth-watering desserts, and they make crowns for themselves.
Joonmyun is envious of their frivolity, wishing he could be in such high spirits. The smile on his mouth is fake and he sips on wine until it’s all he can taste. Beside him, Minseok is occupied in conversation with several of the guests. He’s smiling, laughing, enjoying himself as the splash of pink on his cheeks deepens. He’s been drinking the wine too.
Joonmyun sees his mother dancing with one of the Lords, and his father standing to the side with a circle of people around him as he speaks. His father has always loved an audience, whether it be impressionable young noblemen wanting to garner favor or the attentive glance of a high born Lady who has yet to take a husband. His parents should be together. At least for this. At least for him.
Joonmyun drains the remainder of his wine, refusing the servant who offers to refill his glass. This isn’t a time for losing himself, but for steeling himself for what’s to come.
The sun goes down, but the celebration thrives. Brilliant fireworks light up the sky in a rainbow of colors that shower back down to the ground to disappear in dewy grass. Joonmyun finds himself smiling, thanking his mother as she insists he at least try the cake because she’d spent forever down in the kitchens deciding on the perfect flavor. Mostly, Joonmyun pities the baker, but the cake does taste amazing.
It’s Minseok who decides he’s ready to retire for the evening. He’s polite, thanking everyone around them before offering his hand for Joonmyun to take. Joonmyun accepts graciously, standing to his feet and quietly slipping away with his husband at his side.
“You looked like you needed to get out of there,” Minseok whispers softly the moment they’re safely inside.
Joonmyun looks at him, head tilted and lips parted to speak, but he isn’t sure what to say.
Minseok squeezes his hand and offers Joonmyun a smile. “You’re going to have to take the lead here,” he adds. “I still don’t know my way around.”
Joonmyun guides Minseok forward and through the main hallways instead of the more discreet passages that he would normally use to get to his room. It occurs to him that this may be the most he’s heard Minseok ever speak. And he feels mildly guilty that Minseok may have left the party early on Joonmyun’s behalf.
There are a set of rooms in the west wing that belong solely to Joonmyun. The furthest most room, the one situated directly at the end of the hall, is Joonmyun’s bedroom. He opens the door and allows Minseok to enter first. Minseok’s trunks are stacked near to the bed, an intrusion that doesn’t go unnoticed, but Joonmyun knows this is how things must be. At least for now.
There are duties expected of him, physical claims that aren’t as foreboding as he thought they might be when presented with Minseok standing by the bed, working open the ties on his robes. They may not know each other, but the little wine still left in Joonmyun aids to shake off the shackles of reservation and the itch of arousal begins under heated skin as Minseok shrugs his way out of blue and stands in white.
Minseok turns then, eyes dark when they rest on Joonmyun’s unmoving figure still by the doorway. “Can you help me with the knots?” he inquires.
Joonmyun knows Minseok could easily undo them himself, but the offer is open. Broad. Welcome. Joonmyun takes it, shutting the door and striding over to where his husband awaits him. His fingers pluck at the ties along the sides until they loosen and Minseok runs his cotton shirt over his head.
This close, Minseok is strikingly handsome and Joonmyun runs his fingers along Minseok’s bare chest, letting the tips brush over defined muscle until he reaches the top of Minseok’s pants. There’s a question in Minseok’s gaze, an inquiry that Joonmyun answers when he doesn’t pull away as Minseok leans in enough to brush their lips together.
Minseok’s breath is hot on his mouth and Joonmyun’s stomach clenches, anticipation running through his veins. His head is foggy with it and he drinks down the soft noise that escapes Minseok’s mouth when Joonmyun kisses him. Minseok tastes like wine with a hint of icing from the cake and Joonmyun chases it as hands fumble, tangling in fabric to get clothing off.
This wouldn’t be the first time Joonmyun’s bedded someone he has no other interest in. He knows where his own boundaries lie and none of them are crossed when he pushes Minseok onto the bed and crawls between his legs, staring down at him as if Minseok is something to conquer.
Minseok lets him.
His head tips back, mouth open, panting as Joonmyun’s oil slick fingers work him open. Joonmyun watches as pink flourishes over Minseok’s cheeks, neck, chest. He pushes against Joonmyun, hands twisted in the crimson comforter as his legs spread further. Joonmyun feels heated, leaning over Minseok to nose along his jaw, demand his attention as he finally presses inside.
Minseok clenches around him, gasping, trembling and a hand burying in Joonmyun’s hair to hold tight as Joonmyun finally sinks all the way in. The warmth of Minseok’s thighs wrap around Joonmyun’s hips, urging him to move and Joonmyun obeys, stuttering out a low moan when he slides out and back in. The oil smells of rosemary and it fills Joonmyun’s head until he’s dizzy.
Joonmyun would have to be blind not to see beauty in the way Minseok arches into him, his pink lips shining and parted. Waiting. Joonmyun kisses him. He kisses Minseok as he thrusts into him quicker, letting the pleasure wind through him until he’s a slave to it. Minseok moves with him, arms curving around Joonmyun’s back, hands over his shoulders to keep from moving.
Joonmyun’s head rests in the crook of Minseok’s neck, forearms braced on the bed and hips rocking, grinding, pushing just as Minseok’s legs guide him. Neither of them is going to last. Not like this. Joonmyun balances on one arm, reaching between them to fit his hand around Minseok’s cock. It throbs in his hold and Minseok seems to lock around Joonmyun, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut.
Colors dance behind Joonmyun’s eyelids and he jerks forward, groaning aloud when the pressure finally releases. Minseok is louder, nails scraping down Joonmyun’s back as he comes over his stomach and chest, some of it dripping down Joonmyun’s fingers. Joonmyun’s head is spinning, his throat dry and he rolls off Minseok, spent and tired.
Joonmyun musters the energy to wet a cloth and hand it to Minseok, walking back to the basin to clean himself before crawling into bed. Neither of them speak and Joonmyun falls asleep with his back to his new husband.
A slant of light falls over the bed, pulling Joonmyun from sleep even as Minseok slumbers peacefully beside him. It takes a moment for Joonmyun to remember, blinking reality into focus as Minseok’s face clears. He’d thought maybe he’d been dreaming, but Minseok is very real and irreversibly married to him.
The night before was nice. Impersonal, yes, but Joonmyun had enjoyed it. But he holds no illusions. He performed just as he was supposed to and it isn’t going to lead to some revelation that all his doubts were unfounded. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen from here, but he’s going to take as much control over it as he can.
Joonmyun spends the next three days avoiding Minseok. He rises early, before the servants are sent to wake them, and stays tucked in his father’s study long into the night to ensure Minseok is asleep before he climbs into bed. There are heavy bags under his eyes and his head is pounding. He knows this is his own fault and yet he can’t help it. He doesn’t want to be married. He doesn’t want Minseok. It’s simply easier to pretend he doesn’t exist.
Joonmyun can be terribly stubborn.
But even he has his limits, exhaustion from too little sleep finally weighing him down enough to have Joonmyun dragging his feet as he sneaks through hidden passages to his bedroom. A floor length mirror conceals the entrance into his room and he slips inside, sighing in relief at the sight of his bed. Joonmyun is almost there when a voice slices through the silence.
“You do not like me.” It’s not a question; it’s an accusation. Minseok is standing near the corner, probably having come from the small reading room that can only be entered through Joonmyun’s bedroom.
Joonmyun is far too tired for this. “I do not know you well enough to like or dislike you,” he answers honestly. He doesn’t stop his path to the bed, but he does sit on the edge instead of laying down like he was planning.
“Then why are you so intent on avoiding any opportunity to find out?” Minseok presses, his chin held high and his eyes focused on Joonmyun who is now beginning to slouch.
“Because then it will be real.” Joonmyun watches Minseok’s face for a reaction, but there isn’t one. “And I don’t want it to be.”
This time, Minseok’s upper lip curls just the littlest bit and his eyes narrow. “You sound like a child,” he responds, arms folded over his chest. He’s in light green today, with gold stitched lotus flowers decorating the fabric. It compliments him well. “The time for wistful dreaming is over. Regardless of your desires, I am your husband. Do not pretend that it is only you who is unhappy with this arrangement. At least you still have your home and everyone you know surrounding you. I am in a foreign nation with a boy of a prince for a husband who seeks to ostracize me further.”
Guilt wells in Joonmyun’s stomach, bubbling into his chest as his shoulders drop. Minseok is already leaving, a spin on the ball of his foot and his silhouette disappearing through one of the hidden doorways. One of the servants must be teaching him the layout.
Joonmyun hadn’t even thought that his inattentiveness would have any sort of effect on Minseok, but he realizes now that it was a selfish assumption. The impact of his actions hadn’t occurred to him. If he was decisively avoiding his new husband, then everyone would notice. It can’t be easy here for Minseok and Joonmyun is only making it worse.
He knows very well that’s he’s being unreasonable, but being called out on it makes it worse. Joonmyun sighs, falling atop his soft bed and staring at the canopy overhead. His parents taught him how to appear to those around him - a strong demeanor when in the presence of those in power, compassion for the subjects who are the reason for their great nation, guarded trust to those closest to him. He’s never supposed to be himself except for when he’s alone or with his husband.
Joonmyun thinks Minseok may not enjoy the man he really is. And Joonmyun can’t blame him.
Joonmyun foregoes his nap with intentions of going to bed while Minseok is still awake as a show of his willingness to meet him halfway. Minseok doesn’t speak to him, but he does roll toward Joonmyun and take his feet between his own before falling asleep.
It’s progress.
They eat breakfast together in the morning. Another step in the right direction. Joonmyun watches with an appreciative eye as Minseok thanks every servant he sees with murmured words of sincerity and a smile that brightens his entire face. Joonmyun is drawn to it as a moth is to a flame. Enraptured a little if only for a moment. His mother and father, along with all his friends, usually pretend the servants don’t exist and it hits Joonmyun right in the chest. He thought he was the only one who paid attention.
It’s not often that Joonmyun is taken by surprise. He’s been raised to notice details, to always pay attention to his surroundings because sometimes it can make all the difference. He had been so intent on shutting Minseok out that he knows nothing about him and Joonmyun means to change it.
He begins with the small observations, like the way Minseok prefers the sleeves of his robes to fall past his fingers so he can hide his hands and how sometimes, he lifts his hand - robe and all - to hide his mouth when he laughs. Minseok also sweats easily, remarking that he’s used to much cooler weather. When they’re outside in the gardens, Joonmyun wipes Minseok’s forehead with his handkerchief and Minseok says that adjusting to the warmth is going to take time.
It doesn’t stop Minseok from enjoying himself. He especially seems to thrive while visiting the bubbling spring that runs through part of the main garden. He will sit on the edge after carefully slipping off his robes - running his hands through the water and splashing some in Joonmyun’s direction playfully because Joonmyun refuses to take off his robes no matter how enticing joining Minseok may seem.
Minseok blossoms like a flower in Spring, drinking in the sun and the fresh air with a peaceful expression. Joonmyun envies it.
The one thing that Joonmyun doesn’t notice is that over the days, Minseok is learning him too.
Despite the limited time available for them to share, Minseok has seemed to pick up on Joonmyun’s need to unwind after he’s been subjected to far too many lectures from men with outdated ideals, who try to trap him in the hallways to listen. Joonmyun is dragging his feet, already picking at the ties on his robes to get them off quick. He knows Minseok is waiting for him in his bed. Their bed.
Joonmyun can’t deny that Minseok is earning his welcome. They’ve been opening up about each other over breakfast, stealing lunch on the go from the kitchen in order to escape the atmosphere of peering eyes and inquisitive ears. They usually wind up in the gardens because Minseok prefers them. Joonmyun had outgrown his fascination with the twisting maze of high bushes when he was a child and finally memorized his way to the center and back. Minseok seems to bring back that excitement.
But what Joonmyun prefers most is the evening when they’re both stripped of royal robes and responsibilities, free to relax and converse without anyone around. Joonmyun knows that Minseok has duties of his own and Minseok enjoys knowing he’s of some use.
But tonight, Joonmyun doesn't feel up to speaking. His temples are throbbing and his muscles are wound tight. He would call for someone to fill a hot bath for him, but he wouldn’t have the strength to keep from falling asleep in the water.
His emerald robes fall to the floor at the door where someone will collect them in the morning for washing. Minseok glances up from where he’s already in bed, watching silently as Joonmyun rolls his shoulders and then his head until it cracks and releases a fraction of the tension. The trek over the floor, toes curling in the cream rug, seems to take forever. Joonmyun crawls up one leg at a time and drops face first onto his pillow.
He feels the bed moving, but still doesn’t anticipate the weight of Minseok on his lower back. Joonmyun still has his shirt on and Minseok’s hands are warm on his skin when he runs them underneath. The touch is intimate, startling. They haven’t done more than occasionally link fingers for a few brief moments since their wedding night. Joonmyun hadn’t realized he missed having someone be there for him when he needs it.
His shirt rucks up, caught on Minseok’s wrists when he rubs over Joonmyun’s aching muscles. He’s been strained for too long, holding himself back lest he insult some high Lord who thinks he pulls more weight with the King than the King’s own son. Never let them get to you, he’d been taught. He never knew how hard that would be to follow. Every single one of them thinks they know all the secrets to running an entire nation when they only see a small fraction of the picture.
Minseok’s thumbs push against the sides of Joonmyun’s spine and Joonmyun lets out a grunt of approval that’s muffled in the pillow. It’s so easy to let go, to let Minseok smooth his hands over tense muscle until he’s loose and pliant. A buzz sets in and Joonmyun doesn’t know why it’s important that he sees Minseok, but it is.
He twists and Minseok raises to his knees, his face one of worry when Joonmyun stares at him from his back. It’s only when Joonmyun sits up, a palm sliding smoothly along Minseok’s neck to bring him down, that Minseok relaxes and lowers his weight again.
“Thank you,” Joonmyun murmurs against Minseok’s lips.
Minseok stutters out a breath and Joonmyun can’t resist. He kisses him, tentative and seeking, unsure if this is even something Minseok wants. Minseok slumps against him, hands in Joonmyun’s hair to tip his head back as he licks into his mouth.
“Let me take care of you tonight,” Minseok whispers, gently pushing Joonmyun until he’s lying on the bed again.
It’s new, giving in to someone else. Joonmyun’s always been expected to take the lead, to keep all the control and with Minseok - with Minseok he doesn’t have to. Minseok steals his breath, keeps Joonmyun’s mind pleasantly blank as he undresses them both, pulling the jar of oil from beneath the bed.
There’s a darkness to Minseok’s eyes, a knowing upturn of his lips when his palms slide between Joonmyun’s thighs to push them open. His eyes stay trained on Joonmyun’s face even as he dips to take the crown of Joonmyun’s cock between his lips. Joonmyun lets out a whine, jaw slack and hips aching to rock into the heat that slowly envelops him.
He hisses through his teeth when Minseok works a slick finger into him, matching the way he works Joonmyun open with the bobbing of his head. Joonmyun can’t think, can’t do anything other than take everything that Minseok gives him - unfiltered moans of pleasure spilling into the air.
It’s different than their first time. When Minseok’s cock presses inside him, their hands are linked and Minseok is hovering over Joonmyun, his eyes so full of promise. A knot lodges in Joonmyun’s throat that he can’t swallow down and he is swept along with the waves of pleasure that crest through him with every push of Minseok’s hips, every kiss that drops onto his mouth, his jaw, his neck.
Minseok bends Joonmyun’s knee to his chest, keeping it pinned and Joonmyun cries out because it feels so good. Too good. It’s euphoric, addicting, and he begs for Minseok to go faster even as he knows he’s about to reach his own limit. Minseok listens, sweat beading along his brow as his face swims in Joonmyun’s vision.
Joonmyun moans out Minseok’s name when he comes, body arching toward Minseok and tightening around him as he shudders. He feels lighter than air with only Minseok to hold him down, sturdy hands to keep him grounded as Minseok throbs inside him and stutters to a stop. He’s boneless, content with not moving even as Minseok slowly pulls out, leaving him empty.
He could fall asleep if he wasn’t so itchy. Joonmyun thinks about moving, but Minseok comes back, running a wet cloth over Joonmyun’s stomach and between his legs. And yeah, Joonmyun reasons he could get used to this.
Neither of them get under the blankets. Not yet. But they lay on their sides, facing each other in silence for a while. “I spoke with my father today,” Joonmyun divulges, finally voicing aloud his thoughts.
Minseok’s eyebrow raises. “Oh?”
Joonmyun hums, smiling a little as Minseok pulls him just that much closer with an arm around his waist. Honestly, it’s still too hot to be so close, but he doesn’t mind. “Yeah. He agreed to let you accompany us during council meetings.”
“Can’t stand to be away from me, can you?” Minseok teases.
Joonmyun rolls his eyes, pushing at Minseok’s chest, but it’s half-hearted at best. “You’re my equal. When I take the throne, you are going to hold just as much weight as I do. Unfortunately, that means you get to deal with the pompous old men who always think they’re right.”
“If I can manage you, I can manage them.”
Joonmyun kicks at Minseok’s leg even as he laughs. Minseok rolls, pinning Joonmyun underneath him.
“I happen to know that there are no council meetings tomorrow. Come to town with me.”
Joonmyun peers up at Minseok in question. He knows there’s a town that stretches around the palace. Joonmyun has seen it from the outer wall, safe behind the parapets. But he’s never been to it. His parents have never allowed it. The most he’s ever been allowed is when he’s locked inside a carriage, surrounded by a dozen guards on horseback as he’s escorted to and from the palace, but that’s only when it’s necessary for him to leave. “I can’t,” Joonmyun answers weakly.
“Why?”
“I’m not allowed.”
Minseok’s eyes widen. “You’ve never been?”
Joonmyun shakes his head, wondering how it is that Minseok manages to get away with things he can not. “Have you?”
“I’ve snuck out a few times,” Minseok confesses.
“Why would you?”
“Honestly Joonmyun,” Minseok sighs. “How can you lead the people when you don’t know the people?”
Morning sees Joonmyun dressed in clothing well below his station. He would query where Minseok procured such articles, but he’s not entirely sure he wants to know. They fit well enough, including a hood that conceals Joonmyun’s face. Minseok isn’t as well known so he keeps his hood down even as they steal around the back of the stables and toward what Minseok has said is an exit that leads to the town.
Joonmyun still has his doubts. He’s never been outside the palace walls without several bodyguards, and he has most certainly never left on foot. It’s an adventure. He clings to Minseok’s hand, letting Minseok’s excitement pull them along until Joonmyun is outside familiar territory and rushing down a well-worn dirt path.
All Joonmyun’s given as an excuse for his disappearance is that he’s showing Minseok the grounds. It wasn’t much and he’s nervous - stomach twisting because this doesn’t feel safe.
However, when the thatched roofs of the town come into view, his nerves are all but forgotten. He’s smiling as Minseok drags him along, the two of them now running down the path. There are others ahead, a few people who are lingering in the field between the palace and the town, and Minseok gives them a jovial wave as they pass.
“I haven’t been everywhere yet,” Minseok explains, pulling Joonmyun close to his side as they approach. The weight of Minseok’s arm is welcome around Joonmyun’s waist and he falls in step easily. “But the market is the best place to see the people.”
True to his word, as they walk past the small houses around the outskirts and into the town itself, stalls are being set up alongside the road. People mill about, voices all blended together as a sort of organized chaos greets him. Joonmyun watches someone wrestle a chicken into a crate and stands, stupefied as Minseok laughs at him. The smallest things bring him new information.
The pair indulge in the aroma of freshly baked breads, stop to admire the fine cloth that’s been laid out and the vendor next door who attempts to outshine with trinkets of gold and vivid colored stones. Joonmyun is curious as he watches a blacksmith at his craft, standing long enough to break into a sweat from the billowing fire before Minseok is pulling him further.
Children giggle and dart through the crowds, brushing against and running between Joonmyun and Minseok without a thought. This is how Joonmyun’s people live. They barter and haggle, their cheeks rosy and laughter spilling into the streets.
“Is it always like this?” Joonmyun asks, watching as a juggler passes and his flaming batons circle high in the sky.
“Your people are happy,” Minseok answers. “That’s not to say it won’t ever change, but you have to pay attention. You have to listen. You have to be present and not constantly locked behind walls of stone.”
Joonmyun takes Minseok’s words to heart. These are his people. He wonders if his parents have ever walked down this road. He wonders if they ever dared dirty their feet in the sand or split a warm cinnamon roll with the pouting children because the smiles on their faces were worth it. He turns back and sees the fond look on Minseok’s face, breaking out into a grin and he knows. Joonmyun knows this is worth it.
Minseok is . . . Minseok is good for him.
It’s nearing sunset when the two sneak back into the palace, heading straight for a bath because they’re dirty and sweaty. Still, Joonmyun can’t stop smiling. And he’ll never forget today. He’ll never forget that Minseok gave this to him.
It gets easier. Joonmyun will wake up in the morning and his first instinct is to roll away from the heat of Minseok’s body pressed to his, but he’s learning to adapt. He’s not used to having someone at his side, someone who is now a more integral part of his daily life and that takes its toll.
Joonmyun doesn’t shut Minseok out. Not like he had before. There are still times when he needs to escape, shut himself away to be alone just to sort out his head. And when he reappears, Minseok keeps his distance until Joonmyun reaches out for him first.
Everyone else seems to take a liking to Minseok as well. And much to Joonmyun’s dissatisfaction, everyone includes the people he used to call friend. The ones he pushed away under his father’s counsel. He knows now that it was a mistake and he worries those are burnt bridges that can never be rebuilt.
Minseok, however, gets along with them well enough. They’re all in the hall, the King sitting in his throne above them all as Nobles bend the knee and tell him of their comings and goings. Joonmyun has always been encouraged to mingle with their guests and he does. To an extent. It’s impersonal and done with a mask of polite interest, unlike Minseok. He seems to enjoy it.
Joonmyun watches, drawn to the way Minseok smiles, how his entire expression opens up when he laughs. He’s speaking with familiar faces and he’s so genuine that this knot of jealousy coils tight in Joonmyun’s gut when someone leans in too close. He tries to swallow it down, but it’s persistent. Demanding. Joonmyun finds himself walking over, silently fitting himself against Minseok’s side to wrap a possessive arm around his waist.
Minseok glances at him knowingly and Joonmyun knows he’s been caught. Thankfully, no one else seems to notice.
“I didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Minseok whispers later. His back is to the wall, his face cast in shadow because Joonmyun hadn’t the patience to wait until they were safely locked in their bedroom. They’re still in a narrow secret passage, somewhere between the west wing and the library. And all Joonmyun knows is that he needs to get this out.
“I didn’t either,” Joonmyun freely admits just before he kisses Minseok again. They’re still in their robes. Today Minseok is in peach and he looks just as delectable, his cheeks darkening to match as Joonmyun kisses him breathless again and again.
Minseok is laughing, unable to help himself and Joonmyun feels foolish. He pulls away, frowning, but Minseok is quick to grab him, fingers around Joonmyun’s wrist to haul him back. “I like it,” he murmurs, mouth against Joonmyun’s as he takes the next kiss. “I like you. Husband.”
Joonmyun doesn’t realize until later. Much later. (After Minseok had dropped to his knees and wrapped his pretty pink lips around Joonmyun’s cock until he was filling the passage with echoed moans of Minseok’s name.) He doesn’t realize until later that the word husband hadn’t filled him with cold dread, but with a warmth that he’d never imagined. They still have a journey to travel together and it won’t be easy. Not when Joonmyun is so used to closing people out. But he thinks - he knows - that with Minseok at his side to keep his head on straight, they’ll do just fine.