Chapter Text
“Are you benching without a spotter?”
The teasing voice of his fiancé startles him. He stalls for just a second, but it’s enough for the barbell to land on his chest with a thump. Taehyung isn’t wrong—he is lifting without a spotter, but it’s light enough. Without any trouble, he pushes it off his chest.
“It’s light,” Jeongguk retorts, swift as he racks the barbell back on the rig. He pulls himself up, pleased at the familiar sight of his prince standing in the doorway. “Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes at the mention of his title.
Jeongguk just can’t resist.
“Hello, baby.”
Jeongguk isn’t sure how long he’s been standing there. Now that he’s made his presence known, he pushes off the wall to make his way across the gym.
Today, Jeongguk is in their flagship location—his first love, as they’ve jokingly come to refer to it—but their newest location rivals this with its gorgeous water-front views. No matter how breathtaking the new location is, there is still something special about Golden’s first home that makes it Jeongguk’s favorite.
These days, it’s rare for Jeongguk to be alone in the gym. Once his last client was out the door, he had seized the opportunity, quick to throw himself into a workout. There will always be something special about having the space to himself.
He doesn’t remember telling Taehyung where he’d be today. The prince just seems to be all-knowing. Or he took a lucky guess.
“What are you doing here?”
The prince tilts his head at the question. He stops just short of the bench, curiously peering down at Jeongguk where he sits.
“I can’t come say hi to my fiancé?”
There’s something in his tone that suggests this isn’t just a social visit.
He resists the urge to roll his eyes.
Instead, he holds his hand out, and the prince complies immediately—taking it in his and allowing Jeongguk to pull him onto the bench.
“You want something.”
“I don’t necessarily want something,” Taehyung says, which proves that he does. With a swift grab, he fists Jeongguk’s t-shirt, then he pulls him in closer to plant a kiss on his lips. It’s quick, soft, just enough to distract him. “I’m here to let you know that our engagement interview has been scheduled for next week.”
Immediately, a weight settles in his stomach. There’s no way the prince doesn’t notice, but it seems he is allowing him the time to think about it. Jeongguk appreciates that about him—how he doesn’t beat around the bush, and when he has news to share, he shares it immediately.
They’ve discussed the pressures of Jeongguk’s new obligations and the expectations that come with the life he’s decided to embark on. Jeongguk wants nothing more than to marry the prince—that hasn’t changed—but he’d lie if he said he wasn’t nervous about the life that comes with it.
After their engagement, they had decided to keep it a secret at first. Selfishly, they wanted to celebrate and enjoy the moment without the world knowing. The bliss was only theirs to share, and the queen had allowed them a few months to settle into the engagement before announcing it.
It was perfect. A small, private bubble in their otherwise very public lives.
Now the news is out for the world to share. With that comes engagement photos and interviews, and the intricate planning involved to orchestrate the royal wedding for an heir.
“Is there any way you can have someone else stand in for me?” Jeongguk jokes. “My brother can pass for me on a good day.”
The prince bursts out in adorable laughter, then he scoots closer, swinging his legs over Jeongguk in a half-straddle. He looks ridiculously out of place in his maroon suit and his legs draped over Jeongguk’s shorts. Teasingly, he runs his hands over Jeongguk’s thighs. He goes on and on about squatting too much—scared to rip his pants if he puts on too much muscle—yet he doesn’t seem to mind when Jeongguk does.
“No one can stand in for you, baby,” Taehyung says right away, and to this day, warmth still swirls in his stomach when the prince looks at him like he does right now. “We will decide on a list of approved topics beforehand, and Yoongi-hyung will guide us through it. We will also meet with the PR team so they can run you through some scenarios.”
His eyes must give him away.
Immediately, Taehyung cups a hand over his face, then he angles his chin up just slightly.
“You’re going to do great.”
“I’m going to choke.”
Lips land on his, teasing him as they brush against him.
“You’re going to choke me,” Taehyung teases, and it’s so stupid that Jeongguk breaks into laughter.
The tension diffuses in a second.
God, he loves this man so much.
“Ah, there you are,” Taehyung says when Jeongguk shakes himself out of it. “You were nervous about the engagement photos, and they turned out just fine. Do I need to remind you about the headlines you caused that set the nation into a feral frenzy?”
A bit of heat twinges in his cheeks, but he ignores it.
The engagement photos had turned out surprisingly well. They’d color coordinated, of course, both of them donning the deep maroon and blue of the Kim family crest colors. The colors are becoming of the prince—something he was born into wearing. It was only normal that apprehension had lingered in Jeongguk’s mind when he was dressed to match the heir.
But the photos did stun. They looked exquisite together, the photographer handpicked by the prince, and a moment he had worked up to be terrifying had actually been a fun afternoon with his fiancé. And maybe it was made better when they were told off a few times for being too handsy, which apparently wasn’t the aesthetic they were going for. The prince had muttered something like “fuck the protocol” under his breath, and for that, he had earned himself a slap upside the head from his mother.
Upon the release of the photos, Jeongguk had been selective in the news he consumed. The ones he saw were positive—gushing over their visuals, even nicknaming them “The Prince and his Trainer.”
And Jeongguk is okay with that.
“Well, I do have a lot of practice from my thirst trap days. I know how to work my angles.”
Taehyung smirks.
“Speaking of,” he drawls, his eyes casting an appreciative glance down his chest. “Why are you wearing clothes? This is not your brand.”
To make his point, he gestures up and down Jeongguk’s clothed frame.
“You weren’t here to stare, so what’s the point?”
Taehyung thinks it over for a second.
“That’s a good argument,” he counters, then he runs his hands up Jeongguk’s arms, squeezing appreciatively. “But I’m here now.”
“There’s an extra set of clothes in my bag in the office. You should join me.”
The hands on his arms still.
“Absolutely not. Today is my rest day.”
The resemblance to Nari is uncanny, and that’s frightening, because they don’t spend all that much time together. They’re just kindred spirits—a prince and a princess.
“Then at least spot me?” Jeongguk nods toward the barbell behind them. As much as he’d like to stay here, the quicker they get this done, the quicker they can go on their way home. “I have two sets left.”
“I thought you didn’t need a spotter?”
Jeongguk tilts his head.
“Are you telling me no right now?”
The prince’s hands go up in front of him, a first line of defense, but his eyes glimmer with mirth, contradicting what he’s saying.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
This time, it’s Jeongguk who rolls his eyes.
“Okay, hyung. You wouldn’t dare.”
Taehyung hops off the bench, and Jeongguk immediately misses the warmth of his body against him. When he situates himself on his back again, Taehyung assumes his position behind him. He doesn’t need a spotter, but he loves that Taehyung is so willing to entertain him. By now, he knows what he’s doing, almost as comfortable at Golden as Jeongguk is. He rolls the barbell to the edge of the cups, gearing Jeongguk up for the lift.
“Show me what you’ve got, big boy.”
He looks ridiculous, standing behind him in a full suit. He hasn’t even bothered taking his tie off. Halfway through Jeongguk’s set, he must realize it, because when Jeongguk is on his sixth rep, he quickly shrugs off his jacket. Without much care, he throws it onto the wooden box next to him.
“That’s better,” Taehyung says to himself, and when Jeongguk looks up at him with a curious look, he corrects himself immediately. “My jacket! Not your set. Your benching is great.”
Jeongguk laughs, knowing that’s what he meant all along, but the prince is so adorable when he’s flustered.
“I know it is,” he responds when he racks the barbell again. He remains on the bench for a few seconds, shaking his arms to get the burn out. It’s a constructive way to deal with his stress, but he knows he’s pushing himself. “Did you really come here to give me that news in person?”
He sits up, pivoting to face Taehyung.
“I did,” the prince admits. When he speaks next, it’s with a bashful smile accompanying his words. “And I also wanted to get out of tea with my parents.”
“Ah, I see. You wanted to get out of work early.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes again.
“I just wanted to see you. I leave for Spain on Monday, and I won’t be back until the day before our interview. They will get over me ditching tea time. Besides, my mother is on a cherry biscuit kick right now, and I really can’t stand those things.”
“Oh, he can’t stand the pastries. The problems you face, hyung.”
“Oh, shut up. I’m literally here telling you I want to spend time with you,” he retorts right away. To make his point, he raps his knuckles against the barbell. “We both know my idea of fun is not shared with a barbell between us.”
He does. And he loves him so much for it. And for popping in to make a surprise visit.
“I know. I love that you’re here,” Jeongguk reassures, placing his own hand over Taehyung’s and squeezing reassuringly. “Spot my last set and we can go.”
Taehyung happily obliges, even counting his reps for him, and though Jeongguk always makes him help put the weights away—something Taehyung complains about every single morning. He spares him today, knowing he doesn’t want to dirty his white dress-shirt.
“I didn’t see your car here?”
“I didn’t drive the car today.” Jeongguk nods toward the helmet that sits on top of his duffle bag. “I only have so much freedom left to ride my motorcycle until I have to be chaperoned by the SWAT team, so I took my chance.”
Taehyung smiles at him. It’s inevitable with his new life, the way his freedom will be restricted once they’re married. He knows it won’t be the end of the world, but the option to take his motorcycle on a day because he just “feels like it” won’t be as easy.
It doesn’t seem to deter Taehyung.
“Oh, you know I love breaking rules, baby. We will still be sneaking away on your motorcycle, even when we’re married.”
His fiancé’s penchant for trouble still delights him. He’ll never forget the first time they ditched his security detail. Jeongguk had played it cool—not keen on letting on that he was terrified—but he was worried about being taken out by Agent Choi as he navigated the streets of Seoul with the nation’s only heir on the back of his motorcycle.
“I know you do,” Jeongguk agrees. “Are you riding with me? I don’t want to leave the bike here.”
“What kind of question is that?” Taehyung seems affronted that he’s even asking him. “Of course I am. Let me just change. This doesn’t fit the aesthetic.”
He waves up and down his body before he shrugs out of his tie. Jeongguk ruffles through his bag, handing him a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and it may be a little chilly with the late fall weather, but the ride isn’t too long. It’s probably one of the last ones for the year before the snow arrives.
It’s hard to not stare at Taehyung when he changes. He revels under the attention, of course, holding eye contact with him as he unbuttons his shirt.
Jeongguk remains rooted on the spot where he’s leaning against his desk. He does have a little bit of self-control, even if Taehyung doesn’t think so.
To avoid the scolding they’ll receive by Agent Choi, Jeongguk runs the duffle bag out to the SUV. He informs them of their plans, fetching the helmet that always travels in the royal fleet vehicle, and he sees the agent off with a promise to be careful. As much as they’ve grown to trust Jeongguk, he can still tell that they don’t love the thought of the crown prince on the back of a motorcycle. Jeongguk informs them of the route he plans to take, and he knows they won’t be far behind them.
It’s a compromise to be allowed the luxury, and he knows they give the prince many liberties as it is. Taehyung let it slip that maybe he coaxes them into things they shouldn’t, but it’s a relationship that works both ways, and Jeongguk is grateful that Taehyung is surrounded by such a loyal and protective team.
The prince is waiting by the back entrance when he jogs back into the gym. He’s already locked up for him, almost as familiar with the place now as Jeongguk is.
Both of them have stuck to their promise. Jeongguk only makes him do cardio three days per week, and Taehyung is in the gym with him every weekday except Thursdays, if he’s not away on assignment. Per Nari’s insistence, he’s claimed the day as his rest day. As such, Jeongguk couldn’t dispute his argument when he refused to work out with him today.
No one wears a suit like the prince, and as much as Jeongguk loves to see him in one, his favorite look on Taehyung is the one he’s greeted by now. How he swims in Jeongguk’s sweatshirt and pants, his hair still perfectly styled from his workday, but his outfit is casual, engulfing his lean frame.
When he spots Jeongguk with the helmet, he runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it loose.
Taehyung grins wickedly.
“Take me for a ride, baby.”
Jeongguk captures him in a slow kiss, then he walks them backwards, taking them through the narrow hallway before they reach the door. He can’t be too sure that photographers aren’t lurking around the corners, especially after the news of their engagement, and he wants to sneak a final kiss in before they leave.
“You can take me for a ride later,” Jeongguk hums onto his lips, soaring when he feels Taehyung smile into the kiss. “Since I’m taking you on one now.”
“You’re such a fuckboy.”
He won’t deny that.
“You’re the one who kept coming back for more.”
“And now you’re engaged to be a prince,” Taehyung fires off immediately, winking as he pulls the helmet over his head.
Jeongguk reaches out to grab his hand before he can pull the visor down.
“The final stages of my coup d’état,” Jeongguk teases. “I’m this close to finally sinking the monarchy.”
He winks before pulling Taehyung’s visor down, and judging by the way Taehyung’s shoulders shake, he enjoys the joke. At least they joke about it now, and though it isn’t always easy, he’s done his best to stop worrying so much about what he can’t control. What will be will be.
And when Taehyung swings his leg over the back of his bike, his arms wrapping securely around his waist as he molds into his back, Jeongguk doesn’t worry. There’s no sense. He’s just grateful to be here with the love of his life.
Life is busier with the additions of his new locations. The small, home-grown gym has turned into a well-known franchise in the city he’s lucky to call home. It’s a bittersweet feeling to not be able to manage it all by himself anymore.
Shin Ryujin has proven to be more than he could ever have asked for. Equipped with a sharp mind and a big attitude, she single-handedly carried the administrative burden of the expansion, ensuring that Jeongguk was compliant with accounting standards he barely remembers studying in university.
It makes him worry less. He knows that if he chooses to let it all go, it will be securely left in capable hands. Eventually, he has to make that decision.
But it isn’t today.
“So, I heard you’re booked and busy this upcoming week?”
Jimin sits at the breakfast bar in Taehyung and Jeongguk’s shared home, watching intently as Jeongguk chops vegetables. For someone who claimed he wasn’t particularly hungry, he’s already gone through half of them.
He turns to look at his best friend.
“I take it Yoongi told you?”
The interview is an exclusive, not made public yet. There are only two people who could have told him this, and Jeongguk’s money is on the royal advisor.
“I can claim spousal immunity,” Jimin says right away, which makes no sense, but it certainly implicates him. “Are you freaking out or what?”
His best friend grins, clearly without regard for his emotional state.
“Why do you bother asking? Of course I am.”
Jeongguk choses to go back to chopping vegetables.
“You two looked like a five-course meal for the photos. The interview will go just fine,” Jimin waves off, dismissing his concerns. “Taehyungie will catch you when you fumble. He’s an excellent communicator.”
The love for his newly proclaimed soulmate runs deep. It’s like Jeongguk doesn’t exist anymore, simply someone he knew from way back when. He knows that isn’t true, but he’d lie if he said things are what they used to be. Life has evolved for both of them. Jimin is with Yoongi, Jeongguk with Taehyung, and Nari—now nine—has grown too independent of them both, which neither of them know how to cope with.
It’s the natural progression of life, yet it feels like it went entirely too fast.
“It doesn’t mean I’m not freaking out about it.”
“I know,” Jimin says, sympathizing with him as his voice softens. “You just had to go and fall in love with a prince, Gguk.”
He throws a piece of cucumber at him, which Jimin successfully dodges at the last second. It lands on the floor with a slimy thump.
A delighted laugh sounds from the doorway, and both he and Jimin snap their heads up at the same time, eager to greet their interruption.
“Why are you throwing cucumbers, Uncle Gguk?”
Nari’s hands perch on her hips, telling him off, and her innate assertiveness has only grown stronger since she befriended a certain female friend of Taehyung’s. She’s grown to be an even bigger handful, and Namjoon looks appropriately done with his daughter when he trails after her with a grocery bag in hand.
It looks like his day has been long.
Jeongguk pulls a white lie.
“Jimin-hyung said he could catch it with his mouth. Clearly, he couldn’t.”
Jimin’s mouth opens in surprise, but Nari doesn’t even offer him a moment to breathe.
“That was terrible, Uncle Jimin.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Nari-yah.” His sigh is accompanied with an eye roll, but her fighting words don’t seem to phase him. The second she walks toward him, he offers his arms up in an embrace, and she takes her chance immediately. “I heard you are on dessert duty.”
“Mm,” she mumbles, laughing when Jimin keeps his arms around her to trap her in the embrace a little longer. “We bought strawberry ice cream.”
Of course they brought the prince’s favorite flavor. She is too predictable.
“You know that’s not my favorite,” Jeongguk says, turning to wave the spatula in the air. The chicken is simmering on the stove, because her royal highness has requested chicken fajitas as a spin on their taco night. “The favoritism is blatant, Nari-yah.”
She scrunches her nose, then she sticks her tongue out.
“Where is Taehyungie-oppa? Is he not home?”
“He is in Spain with Yoongi,” Seokjin offers up, trailing in a few seconds after the rest of his crew. “They’re wining and dining the Spaniards in some official capacity. Yoongi sent me a photo earlier today. They’re having paella.”
“Can I see?” she buzzes, pinching Jimin when he doesn’t let go of her. “Please, oppa?”
Namjoon smiles fondly at the scene in front of him.
“Sure, but go greet your other uncle appropriately, first. You’re acting like you’re too good for us these days. It has Jung Hoseok written all over it.”
Seokjin wrinkles his nose at the mention of the elder prince.
There was nothing for Namjoon to worry about when he introduced Seokjin into the unconventional mix of adults that are present in Nari’s life. He’s taken to life with them beautifully, happily reinforcing the boundaries and rules Namjoon has set for his daughter, all without overstepping. The natural authority in which he carries himself certainly helps, but the best part about Seokjin is his ability to be silly when the mood calls for it. Nari loves him, too, but not as much as she loves the prince, and Seokjin takes as much offense to that as Jeongguk does.
And he’s so grateful that he sent her over his way.
Agreeable to the terms, Nari pivots and strides over to the stove, looking up under her lashes as Jeongguk simply stands there, waiting for her to initiate their hug. When she finally stretches her arms out, he relents. She’s growing a little too big to haul around easily, but he pulls her into his arms nonetheless.
Seokjin winks over his shoulder.
“The prince sends his regards that he can’t attend taco night tonight,” Jeongguk muses. “He gave me strict instructions to tell you just that, and that he misses you.”
Her face lights up at the admission, and Jeongguk takes the opportunity to shove a piece of raw cucumber into her mouth when she laughs.
“Rude,” she mumbles, but it’s hard to make out over the chewing. “He texted dad and told him that already.”
Jeongguk turns to look at Namjoon, who confirms the statement with a resigned nod of his head.
“Of course he did,” Jeongguk mutters. He’s about to set Nari down when her legs tighten around his midsection, and it makes his heart clench—how she still seeks out his presence. “Let me at least put you on the counter? I’ll burn your chicken otherwise. I need both hands.”
The legs around his waist loosen immediately, and she allows him to plop her down on the counter. It’s not much different from the sight of the prince sitting there when Jeongguk cooks for them.
“Don’t burn the chicken.”
“Of course not, your highness.” He bows dramatically, making her squeal with laughter as he threatens to fling a piece of chicken at her. “How are your riding lessons going?”
Nothing gets Nari going quite like the mention of horse riding.
“Great! Auntie tells me that I’m almost ready to compete.”
“Thank God she inherited someone else’s athletic ability,” Jimin mutters quietly, and it takes a concerted effort for both Seokjin and Jeongguk to not burst into laughter.
He isn’t wrong—it’s an absolute nightmare any time Namjoon attempts something athletic. Thankfully, their youngest doesn’t seem to catch the statement.
“She makes me drive her to the country estate on a bi-weekly basis at this rate.”
From what he’s heard, Seokjin has been accompanying them on a few of the trips recently. The queen has graciously offered up the free standing guest quarters to Nari any time she wants to come ride the horses, and a few times, the youngest has nestled her way into spending the weekend with Taehyung and Jeongguk at the estate when Namjoon has been forced to work.
She really has struck a great deal among all this, adjusting beautifully to the perks the royal family has to offer. As it turns out, horse riding is quite the expensive habit, but Taehyung has been footing the bill without a question, something he knows Namjoon wishes he could repay him for.
“Are you going to compete?”
Jeongguk’s own competitive spirit has rubbed off on her over the last nine years, amplified by Jimin, who isn’t far off Jeongguk. When she sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her. There’s no doubt she will go full-steam ahead when the queen gives her blessing.
“Yup.”
No other explanation follows, and Jeongguk figures it’s a good thing she’s so rooted in her convictions.
“Well, we will be there to cheer you on when you do.”
Nari’s eyes widen at the statement.
“Please don’t embarrass me.”
Seokjin squeaks out a high-pitched laugh at the horror on her face, and Jeongguk is a little too stunned to say anything. There’s no way she’s at that age. There is no way she is already to the point where she’ll be embarrassed about having Jeongguk and Jimin there.
“Oh, we are absolutely going to embarrass you,” Seokjin offers when he realizes Jeongguk’s startled state. “I’m thinking we should bring a banner. Maybe even confetti?” he says, pretending to think it over. “Matching outfits, for sure.” He looks to Jimin for confirmation. “Yoongi and Taehyungie are definitely onboard with that, too.”
“Oppa would never.” Nari crosses her arms over her chest. “Right, Uncle Gguk?”
Jeongguk pulls his lips into a thin line, trying his very best to stay composed as he pretends to think it over. He can’t decide if he wants to drag this out, or put her out of her misery.
He chooses the former.
“He would. He’d be the loudest.”
“Stop it!” Her lips draw into a pout, and now she’s just playing dirty.
Quickly, he reaches out, pinching her bottom lip between his fingers, and she isn’t quick enough when she tries to swat him away, but it does break the moment.
Since he is too far gone for the girl who stole his heart nine years ago, he decides to drop the topic.
“We’re just messing with you. It’s so much fun, especially when Taehyung isn’t here to defend you.”
She huffs at Jeongguk, unimpressed with his antics.
“Grab the tortillas out of the pantry, will you?” He nods in the direction of the pantry. “Taehyung got you—”
“He got more purple ones?”
She lands on the floor with a thump, and he doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before she’s pulled the door open, her eyes scanning for her precious, purple tortillas.
“They’re blue, but go on, I guess,” Seokjin says.
This is the hill that the royal attorney is choosing to meet his demise on.
“Yes, he got you more purple tortillas,” Jeongguk confirms. He’d used a few to make them lunch recently, and Taehyung actually scolded him for it. He dealt with him later that night, but he did learn his lesson, not keen on repeating the same mistake twice. “They’re on the third shelf.”
She has to stand on her tippy-toes to reach them, but the adults remain seated, knowing she doesn’t want them to help. When she finally reaches them, she slaps them onto the table, and all is right in the world when Jeongguk places the pan of chicken and fajita vegetables on the table.
Taco nights have remained a staple in the Kim-Jeon household, and he hopes they’ll never deviate from his favorite tradition. It’s one that Taehyung treasures, too, and he’d even hosted one at the country estate with his parents when Nari was staying the weekend with them.
It’s a bit chaotic, of course, but that’s par for the course when they’re huddled around the kitchen table that doesn’t quite host five comfortably, but they’re all too lazy to set the formal dining table. Eventually, they do manage to snap a selfie of all of them, and Taehyung sends seven hearts back in response when he sees it. Shortly thereafter, a selfie of Yoongi and Taehyung follows, and he wonders just how he had to explain that one to the Spanish royals.
Work continues to take up his time in Taehyung’s absence.
These days, Jeongguk has become more selective in his client base. He keeps his regulars—the people he has trained for years—but he’s not as eager to take on new clients anymore. He wishes it were different, but some people only want to train with him because of his affiliation with the royal family. It had forced Golden to become more selective in their process, now functioning only on an internal referral basis.
As usual, he kills some of his stress by working out. It’s the one way he knows how to constructively rid himself of the anxious energy that starts festering as they near the end of the week. Though he feels better after a forty minute interval piece on the rower, he is still nervous when Agent Choi picks him up at Golden on Thursday morning.
Jeongguk doesn’t even have time to shut the door before he’s greeted.
“Good Morning, Jeongguk-ah.”
Formalities are long forgotten between them. For that, Jeongguk is grateful.
“Good morning, hyung,” Jeongguk greets as he adjusts his slacks. It’s been a bit of an adjustment to dress for frequent visits to the palace, but Taehyung has gladly helped pick out his upgraded wardrobe. He’s in black on black, of course, a bit of comfort for when he does have to dress up. “Do you mind if we stop for coffee?”
“I thought you would ask that today.”
On cue, Agent Choi turns around. In his hand is an Iced Americano.
“You’re the best,” he says, his heart clenching at the thoughtful action. “Thank you, hyung.”
“Don’t mention it.” He waves off. “We’re very excited to watch your interview.”
A few nights ago, when Agent Choi drove him home from dinner with Jimin, he had word-vomited all over him in an unsolicited anxiety-dump. He and Jimin had shared a few drinks at dinner, and he just couldn’t help himself, eager to unload on someone that wasn’t Taehyung.
The prince has been more than accommodating, always happy to listen to him when he is concerned, but sometimes Jeongguk selfishly wants the ear of someone who isn’t in the situation, like the prince is. He’s getting better at voicing his concerns, and thankfully, Agent Choi had taken it in stride.
“I’d rather we pretend that isn’t a thing right now,” Jeongguk jokes, enjoying the way the cold drink tastes as it goes down. “I am living in denial.”
Agent Choi laughs at him, then he looks up in the rearview mirror, meeting his eyes.
“You will do excellent, JK.”
Jeongguk loves the nickname he’s been given. It came about after he had quizzed them on call signs—convinced they had assigned them to the family like the presidential detail does. He’d been sad to hear they don’t, so they collectively agreed he can just go by the nickname.
“I am not so sure about that.”
Nerves flutter in his stomach. He’s done so well at containing them all week, but it’s starting to become impossible as they navigate the familiar streets of the city.
“I don’t know if you know this about yourself, but you have this natural ability of making people feel at ease when you’re around,” Agent Choi says, surprising him with his words. “I know that you prefer to lay low, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I don’t want you to discount how charismatic you are. You have nothing to worry about.”
It’s said so matter-of-factly that it takes him a moment to take it all in.
“Oh.”
Agent Choi laughs again, his eyes diverting from the mirror as the light turns green. Jeongguk is going to have to be a little bit more eloquent than that in their interview.
“I know that you think the prince outshines you, but he doesn’t,” the agent adds. “Of course he carries himself with a lifetime’s worth of the title he holds, but you are a perfect complement to him. You are quite the couple together, and you are just as much responsible for that as he is.”
He’s never worried about standing in the shadow of Taehyung. He knows his place next to Taehyung, and he’ll never question that. But it is hard to not be affected by the prince’s confidence—the way he navigates this life so effortlessly. How the lights, cameras and flashes don’t make him bat an eye when they’re aimed at him, and how no question seems to stump him.
Logically, he understands the sentiment. It’s the way the prince has been raised, and he doesn’t know anything else. Sometimes, Jeongguk has to remind himself that the prince still feels out of place when it comes to everyday items. Jeongguk had been heartbroken to learn he’d never ridden the subway, and he’d never had the chance to peruse the amusement parks with his friends as a child. Things that Jeongguk has taken for granted.
They’re still working on sneaking him onto the subway.
Emotionally, it’s harder for Jeongguk to adjust to this. To not show how he feels out of place in the limelight, something he knows he has to grow more comfortable with over the next year. There’s no alternative, because he can’t stand the thought of not being with the man he loves. Taehyung’s adjustment to the life he doesn’t know—but is growing to learn—happens behind closed doors, and that is a luxury awarded only to Taehyung.
“Thank you, hyung,” Jeongguk responds, not sure what else he can say. It doesn’t feel like enough. “Please tell me I get to keep you when we get married.”
An endeared laugh tumbles from the agent.
“His Royal Highness has already put in the request for me to remain in your detail. He will keep Mr. Park for himself.”
The thought makes his heart warm. It’s not much different from how Taehyung has added Namjoon, Jimin, and Nari to the list of welcomed, unannounced visitors to their apartment. It’s something only he can grant, and when Jeongguk had asked to add them, Taehyung had forwarded him the email that showed he had asked a few months back.
“Ah, I like you better, anyway.”
Agent Choi casts a glance through the rearview mirror.
“Now you’re just sucking up.”
Jeongguk laughs. “It’s working, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Agent Chois agrees over a sip of his hot latte. “And with that, we have arrived.”
He’s grateful for the distraction, not too startled by the familiar sound of the gravel as it churns under the weight of the SUV when they pull through the massive gates of the royal palace.
Late fall has grown to be one of his favorite seasons on the grounds.
The perimeter is lined with trees—the deep reds and yellows slowly soaking up the last bit of color before the season turns into winter. It’s chilly, just enough to warrant a coat, but under the sun, his skin still warms. Last fall, Nari had twirled in the fallen leaves in the private gardens, overjoyed with the landscapers when they blew leaves into her face so Taehyung could capture it on film.
It had solidified it as his favorite season. The prince still claims the unofficial cherry blossom season as his favorite—one he shares with Nari—and Jeongguk lets them have that.
“The prince is in his study,” Agent Choi informs him, always connected and in tune with the prince’s movements, even when they’re apart. “He’s expecting you.”
It reminds him of their early days, before Jeongguk had a private access card to the palace. He’ll need it to swipe in today, but he’s excited to hear that Taehyung is waiting for him already. They haven’t even been apart for a week, but he’s missed him terribly. Especially in light of their interview.
“I better not keep him waiting.”
“You better not.” Agent Choi winks, and it feels like he knows something Jeongguk doesn’t. “Good luck today, JK. Make the commoners proud.”
He snorts at the joke, sending him off with a salute that the agent reciprocates with perfection, a subtle but commanding show of the man’s military background, in case Jeongguk ever forgets.
The palace smells of cedarwood and a hint of cinnamon, scents he’s come to associate with fall. For the season, the queen has decorated the palace in deep oranges and moss greens, intricate flower arrangements presented neatly on any surface that allows them. It’s a fine line, how she balances the extravagant habit without making it seem too opulent. Every time, she manages to strike just the right balance.
“Good morning, Mr. Jeon,” the attendants greet him, bowing their heads politely as he walks by them.
They don’t press themselves against the walls as they do for the prince, but it has still taken some getting used to to be greeted like he is his father.
The palace is bustling, staff moving around as they get ready for something. He faintly remembers something about a state dinner this evening—one Taehyung was elated to be excused from in exchange for preparing for their interview.
By now, Jeongguk navigates the royal palace with ease, even the formal hallways that they rarely frequent. He’s fairly positive that he even has the secret shortcuts down, but he doesn’t normally take them without Taehyung.
He knocks three times when he finally reaches his study. Taehyung still stands firm, refusing to put a digital passcode on the mahogany door. Even Jeongguk doesn’t know where he keeps the key to his study.
On the other side, he can hear the creaky hardwood floors as Taehyung makes his way over. He has no business being nervous as he waits, but he still finds himself buzzing with excitement when they are reunited after only a few days apart.
Taehyung beams as he pulls the door open.
“Hi, baby.”
Normally, he’d greet him back equally as enthusiastically, but in light of what greets him, he finds that he can’t.
Rooted, he remains on the spot, not able to get a single word out as he studies the man that always leaves him breathless.
The prince has dyed his hair.
The dark, shiny locks that he associates with the prince have been replaced by a honey blonde. It somehow makes his bronze, sun-kissed skin glow even more radiant in the light of the hallway.
“Are you going to greet me back, or will you just be staring at me?” Taehyung teases him, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “I take it you like it?”
“It’s so—” Jeongguk gives up before he starts. Unable to help himself, he pulls Taehyung in by the lapels of his suit jacket, crashing their lips together in a kiss. “Fuck. You look so good.”
The prince laughs on his lips, but he kisses him back enthusiastically, nipping on his bottom lip as he pulls Jeongguk into his study. It’s a bit of a mess, but he manages to shut the door behind them, and Jeongguk finds himself pressed against the old mahogany a second later.
“Yeah?” Taehyung’s eyes glimmer as he meets his gaze. “I figured I’d surprise you.”
The queen had been firm in her stance—Taehyung was not allowed to color his hair for the engagement photos or the wedding, but she hadn’t said anything about their engagement interview. The prince may be a rulebreaker, but he knows better than to upset the monarch when she truly wants to hold the line.
Of course he’s found a way around it.
“You’re such a brat,” Jeongguk muses, a bit turned on by the prospect of Taehyung being so rebellious. “What did your mother say?”
It seems impossible for him to tear his eyes away.
They’d joked about it, how he wanted to make a change, but Jeongguk never thought he would. Now that he has him here in the flesh, he wants to ravage him.
“Let’s not talk about that right now,” Taehyung diverts, then he ducks back down, capturing Jeongguk in another kiss. “Missed you so much,” he mumbles, but Jeongguk is unable to answer when the prince’s tongue swipes against his lips, only forcing a sigh from the back of his throat when he deepens their kiss.
Hands engulf his face, and Taehyung must have missed him, because he kisses him like they’ve been apart for weeks, almost as if he wants to claim what’s already his.
Jeongguk has no objections, his own hands finding purchase on the prince’s chest before he settles them on his waist, so slim and firm under his hold.
“Hyung,” Jeongguk finally says when they pull away for a breath. It’s the last thing he wants to do, but they do have a meeting to attend. “We have to go meet with the PR team in a few minutes.”
“No, we don’t,” he quickly says, attaching his lips to Jeongguk’s jaw as he trails kisses there instead. “You can say whatever you want in this interview, baby. We don’t need any media coaching. Tell them whatever.”
His stomach flutters.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how this works,” he responds, sighing as Taehyung’s soft lips drag against the column of his neck. He knows better than to leave a trace, especially considering their plans for the morning.
Hellbent on pushing it, Taehyung brushes the neck of his sweater down.
“Don’t,” Jeongguk warns him, tangling his hands into the prince’s hair to tug him off. It’s much softer than he expects it to be, and it brings him back to the present—why they’re really at the royal palace in the first place. So he tugs on his hair to get his attention. “Taehyung-ah.”
The prince groans against his neck, placing one, last kiss on the spot before he pulls away.
“The first name, huh?” His eyes are dark with desire as he makes eye contact with him. “You’re wearing a high cut sweater tomorrow. No one will be able to see.”
At Taehyung’s request, they had asked the styling team to skip the suits. Well-versed with her son, the queen had picked her battles accordingly, granting Taehyung relatively free reins to coordinate his own arrangements. The attire wasn’t something she felt passionately about, either way.
Jeongguk shakes his head.
“Your distraction methods are commendable. Ten out of ten.”
The prince laughs at him. “Oh, we’re back to that, are we?”
“Of course.” Jeongguk grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers. “Can we get this over with so we can go home? The house has been empty without you.”
“Yes, yes, let’s go,” Taehyung agrees, allowing Jeongguk to pull him down the hallway. “And don’t feed me this bullshit about the house being empty. I know for a fact you had taco night and that her royal highness spent the night two days ago.”
Taehyung has made it more than clear that he misses her when he’s away.
“You need to stop calling her that. She’s going to start thinking she’s actually a princess.”
“She is a princess.”
“Well, you can explain to her why our future children will also be princes and princesses, then. You know that you’re going to have to break her heart, right?”
Taehyung stills, coming to a complete halt in the hallway. Jeongguk almost stumbles at the abrupt loss of momentum.
“Don’t make a comment about how that’s presumptuous of me,” Jeongguk points out, turning around to walk backwards. “You will need to have that conversation with her.”
“Let’s just adopt her?”
Jeongguk snorts at him. “You can’t just adopt someone else’s child, hyung.”
“I know that.” Taehyung waves his hand in the air, but the alarm still colors his face, like this is the first time he’s considering this. “Shit. That’s going to suck.”
“It’s future us’ problem,” Jeongguk reassures him, unsure how the tables turned to him calming the prince. “We have time.”
They don’t know what will come, but they both decided they want to wait a few years before they start entertaining the idea of children. Jeongguk is still reeling from the sleepless nights he spent taking care of Nari, and then he’s sure he’ll be needing time to adjust into the life of a royal. They have time, not abiding by anybody else’s rules but their own.
Taehyung snaps himself out of his trance, and Jeongguk is certain that by the time they go to have that conversation with Nari, she’ll be old enough to take the news in stride.
By then, she probably doesn’t even want anything to do with them.
“Have you asked her to be our flower girl yet?”
“I have not,” Jeongguk answers. “I’ll leave that honor to you.”
It brings the most breathtaking smile to Taehyung’s face, his eyes lighting up at the thought of it. If Jeongguk thought he was Nari’s biggest fan, he’s sorely mistaken. That spot is occupied by the crown prince.
“You’re not fucking with me?”
It’s rare that Taehyung swears in the public hallways of the palace. This just seems to slip in his startled state.
Jeongguk will not pass on the opportunity to call him out on it.
“Mind your language, hyung.”
He winks for the full effect.
“Oh, that is rich coming from you,” the prince bites back immediately, yet there’s a hint of disbelief still clouding his words. “You’re being serious about this?”
“Of course I am. She’s going to shit herself when you ask her.”
Another smile graces Taehyung’s face, and sometimes, Jeongguk wonders if this really is his life now. Walking the hallways of the royal palace with the prince by his side, his suit pressed to perfection and his laugh bouncing off the old, historical hallways.
It’s a privilege that is only his. No one else gets the prince this way, and when he’s next to him like this—laughing in glee at the prospect of getting to ask Nari to be their flower girl—all his worries dissipate.
“Thank you, baby.”
When he pulls Jeongguk in by a firm grasp of his waist, leaving his hand there as they navigate down the hallway to the formal sitting room, not a single worry lingers in his mind.
Yoongi greets them both with a bow when they reach their destination. They’ve come a long way in their friendship, especially since Jimin entered the picture, but it still doesn’t stop Jeongguk from being intimidated by the advisor when he acts in his official capacity.
They all tease the advisor for his small stature, but there’s nothing small about him when he’s at work, exuding a presence that rivals that of Taehyung’s. There’s something in the way he speaks—clear, concise, and with an air of finality to it, that leaves very few daring to argue with him. Taehyung is one of them, Jimin another.
It’s a flurry of greetings and well-wishes as they enter the room. When they are finally seated, Yoongi speaks.
“The list of approved topics have been emailed to the PR team and our interviewer, as well as the agency,” Yoongi says, opening the meeting without any formalities. “As was a list of non-negotiables. Topics that are not to be brought up under any circumstances. His Royal Highness and Mr. Jeon reserve the right to end the interview at a moment’s notice, shall one of the non-negotiable topics be brought up.”
An immense amount of gratitude fills him at Yoongi’s conviction. It’s the first time he sees him act in his official capacity at the palace, and it’s clear Yoongi is always acting with Taehyung’s best interest at heart.
“And what are the non-negotiable topics?” The head of the royal court’s PR team, Ms. Lee, asks, likely in an attempt to ensure they’re aligned.
“Kim Nari, direct questions about Mr. Jeon’s family, direct questions about their sexual orientation, and anything pertaining to Mr. Jeon’s social media.”
They’d both agreed on Nari, that went without saying, and Jeongguk stood firm on the point of his family. The other topics were Taehyhung’s choosing. The point about their sexual orientation had stunned Jeongguk, because Taehyung has always spoken openly about the topic.
His reasoning wasn’t to avoid it—he simply wanted it to be brought up on his own terms, if it were something they chose to discuss. There is a time and place for that, he had said, and he’d already spent countless interviews discussing his own sexual orientation.
The news of their engagement had split the general public’s opinion in two.
One half didn’t seem to care much, feeling it was appropriate that the couple were finally engaged, seeing as they’d been serious about their relationship for quite some time. The other half didn’t agree with the same-sex marriage, too concerned about the implications of passing on the bloodline, while others condemned the nature of the relationship as a whole.
It’s something they’ll have to face for the rest of their lives.
“Very well,” Ms. Lee responds, seemingly without objection to Yoongi’s direction. Apart from the queen and the crown prince himself, Yoongi is the highest most respected member of the royal house.
The respect his job warrants is felt in the room.
Ms. Lee turns to look at Jeongguk next, and under the table, Taehyung’s hand settles on his thigh. The weight of it is comforting, reminding him that he isn’t alone.
“If there are any questions that stump you tomorrow, you will be able to redirect them to His Royal Highness. A simple ‘what do you think about that, Taehyungie-hyung,’ is sufficient, and the prince will be able to answer appropriately.”
The semantics of the interview had already been discussed over email. They had to agree on what to call each other when referencing the other. Calling Taehyung by his title is way too formal, something that doesn’t come naturally to them unless said teasingly, and not a way he ever addresses him. Eventually, they had settled on ‘hyung,’ even if the prince had cheekily suggested he call him ‘angel.’
Jeongguk shut that down in half a second. That’s nobody’s business but theirs.
“That sounds good,” Jeongguk agrees, glad to have Taehyung beside him in the event that he loses his momentum. “Will we have final say on the editing before it airs?”
Ms. Lee shakes her head.
“I’m afraid we won’t. We have an exclusive broadcasting agreement with the National News Agency. They have served as our official partner for forty years, and we trust their judgment.”
“Don’t worry,” Taehyung reassures him, turning to face him. “If there’s anything unhinged, I’ll make sure I’m the one to say it. I’ve had plenty of practice.”
The table breaks into laughter, though it’s far from the truth. Taehyung may have been pushing boundaries in his private time, but never has he been anything but perfectly composed in public. It’s reassuring, because Jeongguk knows the prince will have his back tomorrow.
“Is there anything else we can help with, Mr. Jeon?” Ms. Lee asks, and there’s a kindness extended there that he doesn’t expect nor demand. He knows he’s a liability in all of this, but no one has treated him as such. “His Royal Highness is an expert at diversion topics, should you need them, but if you wish, we can run through some practice scenarios.”
Jeongguk shakes his head. “That’s okay, thank you.”
He’s the kind of guy to jump right in. He doesn’t want to know what the metaphorical stage will look like before he steps onto it. He’d rather let adrenaline lead, and he hopes it won’t lead him astray tomorrow.
“Then there’s nothing left for us to discuss,” Ms. Lee concludes with a smile. “Please email us your final approval, Your Royal Highness, and we will be good to go tomorrow at ten.”
Taehyung nods, and when he stands, the rest of the team follows, bowing their heads at him to bid him farewell.
It’s the first official meeting that Jeongguk has the pleasure of attending, and he wonders if he’ll ever get used to it. They all bid him goodbye by his formal title, and Jeongguk is surprised to see Taehyung holding the door open for him to go first—a place he knows he’s not meant to take when they are together in public, regardless of the prince’s personal feelings on protocol.
Yoongi follows them out the door, and only when they round the corner into the private quarters does he speak freely.
“What the fuck?” For a moment, Jeongguk wonders if he fucked up in the meeting somehow. He quickly realizes it has nothing to do with him as Yoongi reaches up, harshly tugging at a rogue strand of hair that grazes the prince’s forehead. “Is this real?”
“Ouch!” Taehyung reels from the tug, taking a step backwards as he rubs his scalp. “Of course it’s real. What the fuck did you think it was? A wig?”
Yoongi stares at him, unimpressed.
This is how Jeongguk knows Taehyung and Yoongi. It’s impressive how quickly they can switch out of their official roles.
“When did you do this?”
Taehyung shifts on his feet, a bit uncomfortable under the attention. Watching him turn into the youngest in front of his friends is still one of Jeongguk’s favorite things.
“In Spain.”
“You waited until I left,” Yoongi mutters at the realization. “Is this what you were whispering about with the queen at dinner? I knew it wasn’t about the seafood paella.”
Taehyung beams, clearly not interested in denying it.
“Her hair stylist is very accommodating, even if it was quite the feat to figure out the language barrier. But I do have a very strong Pinterest mood board, so he got the idea pretty quickly.”
Yoongi sighs, deep and pained.
“What did your mother say?”
Taehyung rubs a hand at the back of his neck.
This can only mean one thing.
“I haven’t seen her yet.”
“Jesus Christ, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi mutters defeatedly, the disappointment clear in his voice. “Why are you like this? You’re thirty-three years old, for fuck’s sake.”
“Are you saying I’m too old to dye my hair?”
Yoongi smacks him upside the head, a habit his loved ones seem to treasure.
“I’m saying that you’re too old to be pulling shit behind our backs,” he responds, suddenly looking at Jeongguk for confirmation. Jeongguk knows better than to get between the prince and his advisor, so he looks away immediately. They’ve come a long way, but he’s not in the business of picking sides when Yoongi is involved. “I guess everyone is in for a surprise tomorrow.”
Taehyung laughs at him, then he swings an arm over his shoulders. Instantly, Yoongi tries to shy away, but Taehyung is persistent, keeping a firm hold on him.
“It looks good, doesn’t it?” he probes, reaching back to pinch Yoongi’s neck when he doesn’t receive an answer. The advisor can complain and grumble all he wants, but he does have a weak spot for the prince. “Come on, hyung. I look amazing with blonde hair.”
“It’s not bad,” he eventually admits, and the way the corner of his lips curve into a smirk tells Jeongguk that he doesn’t mind it one bit. “Maybe you should talk Jiminie into it, too.”
The laugh Taehyung barks out echoes in the hallways, and both of them can’t resist joining him.
They spend the rest of their night catching each other up on their week. Taehyung happily tells the story of exactly how long it took him to dye his hair, spanning it over a three day process, and they had gotten started the second Yoongi had flown back to Seoul to tend to business he couldn’t manage from afar. Thankfully, all official engagements had been completed by that time, and the prince had somehow managed to avoid being photographed for the private sessions of his visit to meet with the European royals.
The color, he explained, wasn’t quite the blonde he wanted, but he’d gathered between English, Spanish, and Google-translated Korean that he couldn’t get the full platinum he wanted just yet—a process he will have to continue here at home. His hair dresser had sent a series of emojis ranging from sadness, surprise and eventual happiness at the selfie Taehyung had sent, and Jeongguk doesn’t dare wonder what the queen will think.
“It looks really good,” Jeongguk says again when they’re in bed, his hands carding through it. He had expected it to be dry, but it’s surprisingly soft as he runs it through his fingers. “It suits you.”
With a smile, the prince pulls him flush against him, pressing his lips against him to show his gratitude. Jeongguk falls in line immediately, kissing him back in earnest, and he’s so wrapped up in their kiss that he doesn’t notice Taehyung pushing him into the mattress.
Besides, he goes willingly.
“What are you doing?” he questions when Taehyung settles on top of him to straddle his hips. He’s in nothing but his boxers, and Jeongguk’s hands find his lean, slender thighs. Goosebumps line his legs when he runs his fingers over his skin, and he loves that he still gets this reaction out of his fiancé. “Are you finally about to give me that ride you owe me from the other day?”
Taehyung laughs at him.
“No, I’m not.”
It happens quickly, but it always does when Taehyung slips into this version of himself. It’s one of the things that keeps him on his toes when it comes to being intimate—how willing they both are to give and take.
Hands wrap around his wrists, and Jeongguk could resist, strong enough to ward him off easily, but he allows Taehyung to press his hands into the mattress next to the pillow.
Heat tugs in his stomach at the quick action.
“Are you going to be good?”
Taehyung smirks at him, looking down on him from above. Freshly washed, his hair falls into soft waves, but there’s nothing soft about the way his eyes have shifted into a dark, piercing stare.
“Depends,” Jeongguk drawls, pushing just slightly against the grip on his wrist, but Taehyung only tightens it. “Are you going to call me a good boy?”
A chuckle escapes the prince.
“We’ll see.” He won’t, but they both enjoy the banter that comes so easily. “Can I tie you up, baby?”
Taehyung is in a mood today. His cock already strains hard in his underwear, just from talking about what he wants to do, and how would Jeongguk say no to that?
“What if I want something slow and romantic tonight?” Jeongguk teases.
“Who says it can’t be slow and romantic?” He loosens his grip on his wrists, and Jeongguk complies, leaving them there as Taehyung assesses whether he will or not. “What’s your answer, Jeongguk-ah? Can I?”
Taehyung’s voice is deep, authoritative, and it’s been a while since he got this side of the prince. Heat pulses under his skin when he flickers down to look at Taehyung’s cock, knowing how good it feels inside of him.
“Yeah, you can tie me up, angel.”
To reward him, he grinds his ass against Jeongguk, teasing him as he undoubtedly feels Jeongguk’s cock grow hard beneath him. It takes all he has to not grab his hips and help him move, but he knows that Taehyung wants to be in charge tonight.
So he lets him.
“You look so good beneath me.”
Taehyung leans down, pressing a kiss to the corner of Jeongguk’s mouth. His lips linger for only a moment before he drags them down the side of his jaw, much slower than his eagerness in his study earlier today.
His breath fans warm and teasing over him once he reaches his ear. He drags it out, barely brushing his soft lips against the shell of it.
“Rope or fabric?”
It sends a shiver right down Jeongguk’s spine. Taehyung must have been thinking about this.
He considers it for a moment, weighing his options.
“Rope.”
“It may leave marks for tomorrow,” Taehyung points out, but there’s a hint of interest in his words. “Do you want to show the whole world you let me tie you up?”
Jeongguk laughs, a bit breathy, arousal pumping hot in his veins at the thought of that.
“Let them see,” he offers, indulging Taehyung in the only form of exhibitionism they’ll ever be awarded. “I’ll steal one of your expensive watches to cover it up.”
Taehyung hums, seeming pleased.
“Hands above your head,” he instructs, placing a kiss at the nape of his neck before he hops off, ruffling through the nightstand for what he needs. A bottle of lube lands on the mattress next to him, but he keeps the hemp in his hand, running his fingertips over it as he looks over at Jeongguk. “You know your colors if you need them.”
Eager to comply, Jeongguk keeps his hands above his head, his heart beating rapidly when Taehyung hovers over him. Even after his shower, there’s still a faint scent of cologne attached to his skin. Jeongguk wants so badly to lean up and press his lips against his throat, but he remains motionless on the bed.
It had taken them a while to get the logistics of tying each other down in their shared bed. Jeongguk’s old headboard with the wooden slats left them no issues, but Taehyung’s fancy headboard is fabric. After a bit of digging, they had found a wooden slat under the mattress, and with enough practice, they had gotten it down to nothing more than a thirty second deal.
With expert movements, Taehyung wraps the hemp around the slat, then around Jeongguk’s wrists. He tugs once, tightening it, and the rope immediately digs into his skin. He’ll chafe if he moves against them, and Taehyung knows exactly what he’s doing when he restrains him even harder.
“I thought we were going for slow and romantic tonight?”
He doesn’t receive an answer.
When he’s finally done, Taehyung sits back on his heels, admiring the view of his work.
God, it’s thrilling, being at Taehyung’s mercy.
“Use your colors if you want to get out of the restraints,” Taehyung instructs. “Yellow for pause. Red for immediate release.”
“Red for immediate release,” Jeongguk repeats. “Does this mean you’re going to have me begging for you to stop?”
Jeongguk normally doesn’t beg, but he’ll indulge Taehyung if that’s what he wants tonight.
Instead of answering him, Taehyung reaches for his underwear. He’s naked in one, swift motion, on full display for the prince to do as he pleases.
“I guess we’ll see.”
Anticipation rushes through him, unsure of what Taehyung will do, but he surely isn’t expecting it when he settles between his legs immediately. For a moment, he just sits there, his eyes roaming over Jeongguk as he contemplates his next move.
The weight of his gaze is heavy. It always is, filled with intent and desire.
Jeongguk keeps his eyes on Taehyung, mesmerized as he watches his hand come down to cup himself over the fabric of his underwear. It must not be enough, because he trails his hand under his waistband in the next moment.
With a knowing smirk, Taehyung keeps eye contact with Jeongguk as he grasps his own cock. He moves slowly, but Jeongguk can tell he’s already worked up from his shallow breaths.
“You fucking tease,” Jeongguk chokes out, his own cock throbbing at the sight of Taehyung touching himself.
The prince is striking—his lean arm muscles moving as he pleasures himself, leaving Jeongguk naked and desperate under his heavy stare.
There’s nothing he can do but watch him, unable to reach down and relieve himself of the pressure that is building in the pit of his stomach.
“Yeah?” Taehyung asks, his voice deep and velvety. Without taking his hand off his cock, he runs his other hand up the inside of Jeongguk’s thigh. It’s teasing, meant to drive him to desperation, and when he finally makes his way up his hip, Jeongguk’s cock twitches at the proximity. “Do you want me to touch you, baby?”
“You fucking know I do,” he grits out, resisting the urge to squirm under his stare. “Don’t be a dick, Taehyung-ah.”
Something dark flashes in the prince’s eyes. He pulls his hand out, and with a firm grip to the back of Jeongguk’s legs, he presses his thighs against his stomach, bending him at the knee.
“I have half a mind to untie you, just so you can hold yourself up,” Taehyung whispers into the skin on his thigh, the soft curls of his hair tickling the sensitive skin of his hip. “Keep your legs here for me.”
Hands grasp his ass, pulling him apart in one, quick motion, and when Taehyung dives in to press his lips against his hole, Jeongguk moans, broken and breathless into the room.
It’s instinctual, how he tugs on the restraints, forgetting for a moment that he can’t reach down to press the prince’s head closer to himself.
There’s something so intimate about it. About the way Taehyung kisses against his rim before he flicks his tongue out, tracing it teasingly, knowing how Jeongguk feels a mix of both embarrassment and need whenever he has his way with him like this.
No matter how many times he allows Taehyung to eat him out, he can’t quite shake himself off the way his body burns with shame. It always morphs into pleasure, and by then it feels too good to overthink anything.
“Let me hear how much you love to have your ass eaten,” Taehyung whispers into his skin, teasingly biting down on the meat of his thigh before he dives back in. He presses a hot, wet strip against him. It’s wet and messy, just how he likes it, and he feels himself loosening under the attention he’s given. Taehyung notices, too. “There you go, baby.”
A deep, resounding moan forces itself out of Jeongguk’s throat when Taehyung presses his tongue inside of him, deliberately tracing it along his inner walls. Every movement, every motion, and every swipe has the intent of pulling moans of pleasure out of him. Jeongguk loves eating Taehyung out, and it overwhelms him to think Taehyung feels the same way.
“I love the fact that no one else has ever had you like this,” Taehyung says possessively. “You’re so sexy like this. All mine.”
Jeongguk’s eyes are shut, and he focuses on his breathing, trying his best to calm himself and not focus on the way he can’t reach down to stroke himself. The pressure builds too quickly, and if he doesn’t get relief soon, he will be begging.
It doesn’t seem to be what Taehyung wants tonight.
A slap to his thigh has him snapping his eyes open in an instant.
“Watch me,” Taehyung demands, looking up from under his lashes as he licks another strip over his hole. Jeongguk holds eye contact with him, his breathing staggered as he watches Taehyung eat him out. It’s too much—the warm, soft press of his tongue, so good yet not enough, and Taehyung knows this.
Yet he won’t give him what he wants until he says it.
“Fuck, angel.” He finally relents to his desperation. “Give me a finger.”
A deep chuckle presses into his ass, reverberating straight through his core.
“You know what to say.”
Taehyung pulls away to breathe.
He looks debauched, his lips swollen and glistening with saliva. It’s the most thrilling dichotomy—the messy, dirty prince, so unlike the perfect, poised man who the rest of the world sees.
“Give me your fingers,” he grits out, adding the last part after he heaves a breath. “Please.”
The prince laughs at him, mirth coloring his every word when he speaks.
“That’s a good boy.”
“You fucking brat,” Jeongguk manages to laugh. He attempts to tug on the restraints, but Taehyung only smirks, knowing that Jeongguk’s efforts are useless. He watches as Taehyung reaches for the lube, taking his time as he coats two fingers in it. He knows what he’s doing, dragging this out for his own pleasure. “I’ll get you back.”
“I’m sure that I’ll hate that,” Taehyung quips, then he smears his fingers against his rim, sending him pushing up the mattress. For as much as he dragged it out, he didn’t bother warming the lube. “I know you want two, but I’m going to start with one.”
Without any preamble, Taehyung shifts his hand, pressing his middle finger inside of Jeongguk. He takes him easily, loose from being eaten out, and Taehyung immediately crooks his fingers to find his prostate.
It’s a well-rehearsed dance by now, how well they know the other intimately.
“I love watching you take me,” Taehyung whispers in awe, prodding his finger even harder against his most sensitive spot, unrelenting and unforgiving even when Jeongguk squirms below him. Jeongguk so desperately wants his cock touched, but he isn’t about to beg. “I’ll never forget the first time you took me. I had thought about fucking you for so long.”
“You can fuck me now,” Jeongguk grits out over a broken moan. “I’m not stopping you.”
“I know you’re not.”
Taehyung pulls out, only to add another finger, then he lays back down, situating himself between his legs again.
When he presses his tongue inside of him alongside his fingers, Jeongguk whines, unable to help the breath that forces itself out. It feels so good, so overwhelming, and no one’s ever fucked him the way Taehyung does. No one has ever challenged him in the way he loves to be challenged, not shy in bending him over and giving him what he wants.
He’s never let anyone tie him up, and it’s a power Taehyung never abuses.
“Fuck, Tae,” he moans, writhing under his touch when it becomes too much. “Feels so good.”
Taehyung hums into his ass, slowing the movement of his fingers as he quickens the pace of his tongue.
The sound of rustling sheets has him snapping his eyes open, and he isn’t ready for the sight that greets him when he looks between his legs. The prince is rutting into the mattress, seeking friction against himself as he pleases Jeongguk, and it sends the slow burning embers in his stomach into flames.
For the first time in his life, Jeongguk thinks he may be able to come without having his cock touched.
It’s almost too much when Taehyung’s eyes flicker up to meet his gaze, because he moans. Jeongguk knows it must feel good, jealous of the friction that Taehyung is giving himself while knowing that Jeongguk wants it.
“I’m going to—”
He can’t finish the sentence, scared he’ll take himself off the edge, but the steady pulsing of heat in his stomach tells him he’s right there. It almost makes the edges of his vision blur, his brain unsure how to process what is happening. He’s right there, at the edge of orgasm, so near, yet not there yet.
Taehyung continues to brush against his prostate, controlled and steady, and when he finally presses just a tad bit harder, fucking his tongue inside of him alongside it, Jeongguk loses it. The tug in his stomach finally snaps, sending him right over the edge as he shoots come all over his stomach.
The moan he lets out is drawn out and deep, sounding nothing like himself.
This has never happened to him before, and he isn’t the only one affected by it.
Taehyung groans at the sight in front of him.
“Fuck, that was so hot, baby.”
He pulls his fingers out of his ass, then he scrambles to sit, pulling his own underwear off as he frees his cock. Jeongguk is aching, his cock throbbing from the orgasm, and he knows this is about to burn. Normally, Taehyung is on the other side of oversensitivity, but tonight, it’s his turn.
“Are you finally going to fuck me, angel?”
His voice is raspy, breathless from the sounds he’s been making.
“Yeah.”
Taehyung reaches down, swiftly swiping his hand over Jeongguk’s come on his stomach. He coats his hand in it before he reaches down to smear it over his own cock.
Fuck.
Jeongguk swallows at the sight, his stomach clenching with need again.
Taehyung grabs the lube, but instead of coating himself in it, he pours some directly onto Jeongguk’s hole. He hisses from the contact, but Taehyung pays him no mind, guiding the tip of his cock against his hole instead.
Then he pushes in, burying himself to the hilt in one swift go, and Jeongguk’s back arches off the mattress, his hands straining from the way he tries to touch, but fails.
He loves Taehyung so much. He loves how he isn’t scared to take control. He isn’t scared to take what he wants, and right now, all Jeongguk can do is lay there and take it.
Taehyung knows he isn’t doing something Jeongguk doesn’t want, trusting that Jeongguk will use his colors if it’s too much.
Yet he still checks in.
“You doing okay?” Taehyung leans down to hover over him, his palms pressed into the pillow by his head. Dark, enchanting eyes meet his, his gaze dancing across Jeongguk’s face as he takes him in. He loves where he has Jeongguk right now. Tied up—completely at his mercy. “You look so fucking good like this.”
Taehyung’s words are breathless, stirring instant heat under Jeongguk’s skin.
“Only like this?” Jeongguk challenges.
A huff spills from Taehyung’s lips. He silences him by kissing him, licking into his mouth to steal his breath as he keeps fucking him. He moves slowly, controlled, hitting him as deep as he can. It’s what Jeongguk wanted, after all, and of course Taehyung gives him what he wants.
“Answer me, baby,” Taehyung demands, whispering the words directly into his ear. Gently, his hands card through his hair, but he doesn’t tug. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Jeongguk says right away.
Taehyung hums, pleased, his breathing turning staggered as he continues to fuck him. They’re so close, and Jeongguk whines into his mouth when Taehyung finally rests his weight on top of him, his cock brushing against his stomach and giving him the friction he’s been aching for all night.
“Tell me what you want.” Taehyung whispers on his lips. “Tell me how to make you feel good.”
He grinds against Taehyung, seeking friction. He hasn’t been touched yet, and he isn’t sure if he can come again, but he certainly wants to find out.
“Touch me,” Jeongguk demands. “You haven’t even touched me tonight.”
Taehyung chuckles onto his lips, then he reaches down, taking his hard, sensitive cock in his hand. He strokes him slowly, matching the speed he fucks him with, sending Jeongguk shuddering in his hold.
“I haven’t touched you?” Taehyung teases, flicking his wrist sharper to make his point. “I had my fingers and tongue buried in your ass, baby. Does that not count?”
“You fucking brat.”
The familiar burn of pleasure builds back up. It tugs with a different ferocity this time, building too slowly, and Jeongguk doesn’t want to wait any longer.
“Faster,” he says, knowing that he’s a second away from relenting. “Please,” he grits out right after, knowing that’s what the prince wants to hear. “Want to come again.”
Taehyung is close, too. He hears it in his breathing, and he feels it in the way the movement of his hips grows sloppy.
“I’ve got you, baby.”
He does. He strokes him faster, jerking him off exactly like he loves to be touched. It’s just fast and controlled enough, stroking him from base to tip, leaving no surface untouched. Surprisingly, the prince doesn’t argue, eager to give Jeongguk what he wants tonight. His own pleasure must be building rapidly, because the thrust of his hips grows erratic and sloppy, a choked-off moan slipping from him when Jeongguk clenches around his cock.
No matter how many times he takes Taehyung, it still takes his breath away. How deep he hits him, how it mixes with the burn of his thick cock splitting him open.
“God, you feel so good,” Taehyung moans into his mouth. “I’m so close.”
“Me too,” Jeongguk chokes out.
“You take me so well,” the prince whispers, and when he flicks his hand one more time, the coil wound tight in his stomach finally snaps.
He barely registers when he comes all over himself again, both of them a mix of labored breathing and moans.
Taehyung’s entire weight drops on him as he buries his head in the crook of his neck, breathlessly riding out the waves of his orgasm. He doesn’t bother pulling out, spilling hot and wet inside of him.
Jeongguk will never tire of this—of being as close to Taehyung as he can possibly be.
“Fuck,” Taehyung sighs, then he laughs at himself. “Why did you let me tie you up? It took all I had to not come the second I was inside of you.”
His body shakes with the prince’s laugh. He’s so sore, his wrists and shoulders aching from being tied up, his already worn out body burning with the aftershocks of oversensitivity.
“You looked so excited at the prospect,” Jeongguk admits. Normally, it’s the other way around when it comes to bondage. “I love when that side of yours comes out to play.”
An adorable pink twinges the prince’s cheeks.
“But I’d very much like to be let out of the restraints right now, my highness.”
“You fucking—”
He can’t finish his sentence, too busy laughing at him, still a bit embarrassed by the nickname that Jeongguk loves to tease him by. But he works swifty, releasing Jeongguk from the restraints, and it takes him a moment to get his arms back into a comfortable position once he’s finally freed.
“You’re definitely going to wear long sleeves tomorrow,” Taehyung points out, gently tracing the red mark on his wrist. He reaches for the lotion on the nightstand, careful as he rubs it into his raw skin. It stings a bit, but Taehyung takes his time, leaving no surface untouched as he cares for him. “Which is a shame. I love it when you show off your tattoos.”
Unfortunately, they will be covered up for their interview tomorrow. Taehyung had pleaded he be in short-sleeves as he was given free rein on the outfit choices, but Jeongguk was the one to enforce some semblance of protocol for the event, not keen on pissing off the palace.
It does prompt a thought.
“I think you like the thought of people knowing that you tied me up.”
Taehyung’s eyes glimmer in the soft light of the bedroom.
“Of course I do,” he says, like it’s a stupid statement to make in the first place. “A man like you? All tied up, taking cock? A goddamn wet dream, baby.”
He bites down on his lip exaggeratedly, then he groans.
Jeongguk reaches for his wrists, quick as he pulls him down on top of him. The prince isn’t expecting it, falling headfirst into Jeongguk where he lies. They need to clean up, and change the sheets, but that seems like it can wait.
“You’re such a shit,” Jeongguk muses, pressing a kiss into the side of his neck. “You’re the only one who gets to tie me up.”
Taehyung hums. “I know I am.”
They share a moment, laying together in silence, and he is so grateful for the man in his arms. How he always manages to put his mind at ease. When he’s near, nothing else seems to matter.
“We should go take a shower before we fall asleep.”
“We should,” Taehyung agrees. “I’ll get the shower ready if you throw the sheets in the washer.”
It takes all he has to not make a comment about Taehyung yet again getting out of laundry duty. But he said it himself—he’ll happily do their laundry for the rest of their lives.
“Okay,” Jeongguk says. “Go get the shower ready, and I’ll do the sheets.”
The smile he receives is blinding, and he hopes to always make Taehyung this happy.
Even if it means he does their laundry for the rest of their lives.