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Chapter Text

The Golden City was standing above the clouds in a flow of gilded roofs and yellow maple trees. The view was the perfect reflection of the room in which Yoongi had been led to, with its gold moldings and embroidered curtains. But unlike the bustle in the streets, the palace was filled with muffled footsteps and quiet conversations.

Standing by the window, Yoongi was too focused on his own stance to enjoy the beautiful view. His body was naturally stiffening into a military posture and it was taking him all his willpower to act nonchalant, a hand casually resting on the window sill.

He glanced at the princes chatting and drinking in small groups scattered around the varnished floor. They looked at ease, they looked like they belonged between the marble statues and shiny chandeliers, while he felt uneasy and too tight in his princely garments. 

For a second, his eyes lingered on a small figure leaning against the back of an armchair. The prince had pearly white hair adorned with silver jewelry and a delicate face where soft pink lips absent-mindly chewed on a straw. 

For Yoongi, who had only ever known the harsh burn of snow and the austerity of empty halls trod on by surly northern men, the silvery beauty of the man appeared almost supernatural. As if some sea god had emerged from the waters to walk on Earth with a light foot and a knowing smile.

Despite knowing better, he stared until the prince inevitably turned his gaze towards him and flinched when realizing Yoongi was already looking right at him. 

He abruptly looked away, cursing himself. 

He was not Min Yoongi ogling pretty boys at the inn anymore. He was supposed to be Yun Minwoo, prince of the North Kingdom. He had to act way more bored, like drinking wine in a room full of ethereal royals was just another Saturday to him. 

The entry of a short woman holding a scroll interrupted his thoughts. She wore thin glasses over a sharp nose and a simple throat clearing from her cut all the conversations short. 

“Please, come closer, your Highnesses,” she said and Yoongi obeyed together with the princes. Although the closer he got to the lady, the more crowded the room became, he noticed that the men were keeping their distance from him, leaving an empty circle around him. He guessed Minwoo’s reputation was just as bad as he had expected.

It’s for the better , the North Queen had said, the more hatred they have towards him, the less likely they are to find out you are a fraud . She had spoken with disdain, as if she couldn’t imagine anyone believing he had royal blood. At the time, he could almost hear her think they’ll smell it for sure but he had gritted his teeth and stayed quiet. 

“As the intendant of the palace, I welcome you, worthy princes, to our beautiful city,” the short lady continued. “You have been invited to this Tournament to prove yourself worthy of marrying our beloved Prince Jungkook.”

Whisperings spread quickly through the room, everybody vibrating with curiosity. Yoongi had heard that, while nobody had ever seen Prince Jungkook in person, his portraits were so mesmerizing that princes from all around the whole world had come running to win his hand.

“You will be meeting Prince Jungkook tonight during the Opening Ball. Until then, you are welcome to rest from your long journey in your bedrooms, which have already been assigned to you.” 

She unrolled her scroll and started announcing the pairs that would have to share a room for the time of the Tournament. A dozen servants were waiting at the door to lead the princes to their room.

Little by little, the room emptied itself, the intendant’s voice echoing louder and louder against the walls. “Prince Yun Minwoo,” she finally proclaimed, “and Prince Park Jimin will stay in the Summer Room.” 

Yoongi swallowed hard, his body moving on its own towards the door. A servant bowed to him and when he turned around to find out which one of the remaining princes was Park Jimin, he found himself face to face with the gorgeous man who had caught him staring earlier. 

His eyes got lost again in the fairness of his skin and he noticed that it was covered in some places by silver patches that glimmered like scales in the candlelight. Jimin gave him nothing more than a look of disgust before following the servant outside the room.

They climbed marble stairs and crossed galleries until they reached a tower and finally a bedroom at the end of a spiral staircase. The room was huge, with two beds and moldings and soft, flowing white curtains. 

Yoongi walked in, feeling out of place in this delicate luxury. All his belongings -or rather Minwoo’s-  had already been put away in the closet. 

“Which bed would you like?” Prince Jimin’s voice cut coldly through the warm air but Yoongi guessed his voice must sound really sweet when not tainted with disdain. He looked at the two beds and shrugged. 

“You can choose whichever you like best,” he answered politely, swallowing the Your Highness that was threatening to slip from his tongue. 

“You really don’t mind?” Jimin insisted, his voice turning sweeter with confusion. 

His surprise reminded Yoongi of what he had forgotten in all this agitation. He wasn’t supposed to be kind, Prince Minwoo certainly wasn’t. It had been made very clear by his Queen that he was to act like the arrogant and homophobic jerk everyone expected him to be. 

He forced a frown.

“I told you I don’t give a damn. Just choose one and get done with it.”

Jimin flinched but he didn’t say a word, he just walked to the bed closer to the window and kept his back to him. Yoongi was burning to apologize. He couldn’t believe he had talked to a prince in such a way, and with that, to a prince who seemed to deserve nothing but gentleness. 

He sighed heavily as he sat on the second bed. It was somewhat hidden behind a big dressing table which at least meant he didn’t have to look at Jimin. He didn’t know half of the scandals Prince Minwoo had gotten into but the little he knew already felt like he knew too much. From running away with maidens to challenging noblemen to duels, not to mention his last achievement: openly insulting the Tournament with homophobic slurs and swearing he would never set foot in it. 

Yoongi had sworn to play his part but no amount of royal orders could make him act half as badly as his prince. He could act rude, he could act bored, but no crappy slur would ever leave his mouth. 

He lied down on the bed that turned out to be so comfortable he fell asleep and woke up in a sweat, convinced he was late for his guard duty. After a moment, it dawned on him that he was in fact thousand miles away from home, acting as a substitute for Prince Minwoo in a stupid dating Tournament. 

The room was dark, except for the yellow glow of the dressing table. Behind it, he could hear Jimin getting ready while quietly humming a song. 

Right. The Opening Ball. 

No personal staff was allowed in their bedrooms for the duration of the Tournament so Yoongi would have to get dressed on his own. He started by locking himself in the bathroom to clean up all the dirt and sweat from his journey on horseback. He rubbed his skin until it turned red, hoping somehow to rub the peasantry out of it.

When he walked out wrapped in a towel, Jimin was already gone, leaving nothing but the sweetness of his perfume behind him. It was fortunate because Yoongi was sure he looked nothing close to princely as he rummaged through his closet looking for his evening dress. 

Hundreds of clothes had been tailored to his body and all of them were black since it was Prince Minwoo’s favorite color. Yoongi broke out in a sweat trying to tie all the layers of fine clothing together. The sky was now almost completely dark and he couldn’t afford being late but everything was so complicated and delicate that once he finally put the crown on, he just wanted to go back to sleep.

Still, he felt that his effort had paid off when he looked in the mirror and barely recognized himself. The gold jewelry gleamed prettily around his neck, his longish black hair fell nicely around his face, overall, he looked quite like a noble. 

Despite the confidence boost his appearance had given him, anxiety buzzed in his blood as he walked down the stairs to the ballroom. He was about to meet Prince Jungkook, a man he was supposed to spend the next month courting and well, Yoongi was not well-versed in that kind of thing.

Love had never quite been an option, let alone romantic relationships with other men. Quick fucks in the broom closet, that he could do, but he had not been raised for declaiming poetry and chivalric behaviors. He could only hope the prince was very passionate about military strategy and gunpowder. 

He turned around a corner and all of sudden, a new world opened before him. A vast ballroom full of courtiers with a smooth, golden wooden floor and chandeliers shining like diamond above his head. 

Some ladies glanced at him as he awkwardly walked in and he could hear their whispers follow him like the flutter of thousands of butterfly wings behind his back. At the end of the long room, three thrones were overlooking the crowd. He sighed with relief. They were empty, at least he hadn’t missed the entry of the royal family. 

Walking to the buffet to get a glass of champagne, his eyes kept going back to the guards standing along the walls, so still they were almost blending in with the tapestries. It had always felt so thick, the wall between him and the court, but now that he was on the other side, it felt like nothing at all. He was surprised that they were indeed all living in the same world, because the air tasted the same and the crowd was just as loud from where he stood now. 

A trumpet interrupted his scrutiny and he turned away from the guards to look at the arrival of the royal family. The guests bowed in a chorus of rustling fabrics. When Yoongi straightened up, his gaze was immediately drawn not to the smiling King and Queen but to their son walking closely behind them.

At first, his face was half-hidden behind golden curls but when he finally sat down and looked up, a murmur spread through the crowd. He was indeed beautiful, Yoongi thought while taking a sip of champagne, with delicate features and the most fascinating dark eyes he had ever seen. 

Still, as he half listened to the King’s speech, Yoongi couldn’t help noticing the hint of sadness in the prince’s smile or that nervous movement of his hands. He looked too young to get married and perhaps it was only the stress of the Tournament starting, but he didn’t seem excited about having twenty princes fight for his love. 

The courtiers applauded, the orchestra started again and Yoongi was about to go search for another much-needed glass of alcohol, when someone creeped next to him and said the words he had dread hearing all day.

“ You are not Yun Minwoo.”

The stranger laughed when Yoongi snapped his head towards him with wide eyes. Even with his heart racing in his chest, the first thing Yoongi noticed about the other was his handsomeness. Tall, lean, with a small face, the man was undeniably attractive. And still, there was no arrogance in his laugh, only a slight amusement.

“Who are you to talk to me that way?” Yoongi replied angrily in an attempt to make up for his stunned reaction. 

The stranger smiled, casually putting his hands in his pockets. “I am Kim Seokjin, Prince of the West Lands,” he hummed, tilting his head as if lost in memories. “I remember meeting Minwoo-ssi two years ago. Actually, I caught him hunting on my land, it was a deer I think. It’s funny that I still can precisely remember his face.”

“You must be confused,” Yoongi tried to keep his cool but sweat was running down his spine. “It must have been someone else.”

“No, it wasn’t,” the prince’s voice had turned stern. “Now, I don't know who you are and why you are pretending to be Prince Minwoo but you must know that one doesn’t forget Yun Minwoo easily. It is something in the eyes, a coldness, a hint of cruelty, that distorts his whole face into something very, very ugly.”

Oh, Yoongi knew exactly what that prince was talking about. Nobody knows my son’s face , the Queen had said, it will be fine . Well, someone knew. 

Yoongi was so fucked.

“I recommend that you start answering me,” Seokjin continued after a brief silence, “because if you don’t I will assume you are a fraud and I’ll report you.”

“No, please don’t,” Yoongi rushed to answer, dropping any kind of pretense. He sighed, he didn’t even know where to start. “His Highness Prince Minwoo knows I’m here. Her Majesty the Queen herself sent me. He refused to come and she didn’t want to lose face in front of the Golden Court so…she sent me as a stand-in.”

 “And who are you? Someone they picked up from the street?”

“I’m just a guard from the palace.” Yoongi felt embarrassment burn his neck admitting he was nothing but a low-class soldier. “Her Majesty thought I looked enough like him.”

Prince Seokjin raised his eyebrows, his eyes scanning Yoongi up and down. He didn’t look half-surprised by his confession. Yoongi guessed strangest things had happened in royal courts. “I do see it,” the prince finally said, “but you are way prettier than him.”

Yoongi gave him an awkward smile, very conscious that this man could ruin his life in a matter of seconds. He gulped, his throat was as dry as a desert.

“So…are you going to report me?”

Seokjin smiled again, curiosity and mischief like two flames dancing in his eyes. “What would be the fun in that? Let’s be friends!” He offered Yoongi his hand. “You can call me hyung.”

Yoongi hesitantly shook his hand. He couldn’t quite tell if he had just gained an ally or a very clever enemy. He would have to stay vigilant. 

But despite his intentions of keeping his distance with the charming man, they soon fell into a passionate discussion about swords, during which Yoongi discovered that Seokjin was not only smart but also witty and humble. Two glasses of champagne later, he was feeling completely relaxed around the west prince, teasing him and calling him hyung as if they had been friends for years. It felt too good to have someone by his side who could see him for who he really was.

“Who are you sharing a room with?” Seokjin asked at some point while they were looking at the dancers whirling on the wooden floor.

Yoongi’s eyes immediately settled on Jimin. He had been aware of the prince’s presence for a while now, mainly because he was hard not to notice with his sea-green suit, but also because something about him kept attracting Yoongi’s attention, no matter how hard he tried to look away. 

Jimin was standing by himself at the right of the thrones, his eyes eagerly following the dancers in front of him but never quite daring to join them. Pearls shimmered in his hair and around his neck, complimenting his soft features, and all the gold in the room looked dull next to his glow.

“Park Jimin,” he suddenly remembered to answer, his voice rough. 

Seokjin followed his gaze to the smaller prince. “He won’t be an issue for you,” he said. “I heard he grew up rather sheltered, I don’t think he’ll suspect anything.”

Yoongi nodded distractedly. He was still staring at Jimin, not understanding why he was waiting on the side when so many princes had already found a dance partner. And none of them held a candle to his beauty.

“Why is he not dancing? He looks like he wants to.” 

He didn’t realize he had spoken out loud until Seokjin answered. “He is waiting for someone to ask but they won’t.”

“What- why?”

Seokjin had a faint smile on his lips, the one that Yoongi had learnt meant that what they were talking about was common knowledge among princes. “The Park are said to be descendants of mermaids, that’s where the silver patches on their skin would come from.” His smile turned sad. “Most people think touching a mermaid brings bad luck so-”

“So they don’t want to touch him,” Yoongi finished off. His eyes found their way back to Jimin’s captivated yet sad expression. He knew already, Yoongi realized, and yet he couldn’t help the excitement running through his body, the light twitching of his legs.  

Perhaps that was why they had been paired up to share that room. 

The homophobic jerk and the bad omen. 

“How can people believe this nonsense?” he groaned. These men were all educated nobles and yet they were acting as credulous as the plebs. Jimin must have touched thousands of people in his life and he doubted all of them were doomed with back luck.

“People sometimes like stories a little bit too much,” Seokjin replied.

“But you don’t, right? Why don’t you go and ask him for a dance?”

Seokjin chuckled, looking properly entertained by Yoongi’s anger. “Why don’t you ?”

Yoongi stammered, caught off guard. “That would be the last thing Prince Minwoo would do.”

It only made Seokjin’s smile grow bigger. “Then,” he purred, “isn’t it fortunate that you are here, and not him?”

And like that, Yoongi was left speechless. These damn princes were truly good at rhetoric. A millions reasons poured into his head of why he shouldn’t do that, very good reasons, but one glance at Jimin across the room and fuck that . At least one good thing had to come out of this whole circus and he decided right there that it would be that. 

He handed his glass to Seokjin, who took it with a delighted laugh, and crossed the room with determination. Jimin was so enthralled by the dancers that he didn’t notice Yoongi until the man was bowing right in front of him.

“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Jimin-ssi ?” 

The prince almost fell backwards with surprise. His big eyes searched Yoongi’s face, desperately looking for a sign that he was being made fun of. 

“W-what ?”

Yoongi just smiled, casually gesturing towards the dancing floor. “Dancing. You and me.”

His heart broke seeing how guarded Jimin’s expression was. The prince was pressing his hands against his chest as if he was scared of getting burned, or yelled at if he happened to brush against someone else's skin.

“Alright,” Yoongi swallowed with difficulty after some long seconds of silence had passed. “I’ll go back to-”

But he didn’t get to step back because Jimin suddenly unfroze and grabbed his hand. “No, wait!” He gulped, his fingers were small and soft in Yoongi’s hand and the guard couldn’t help but squeeze them gently. “I’ll dance with you.”

“Let’s go then,” Yoongi grinned at him. They walked towards the dancers and perhaps it was ridiculous but Yoongi felt so proud holding the hand of such a gorgeous prince. He might be a peasant but nobody else was making Park Jimin blush a pretty pink, nor did they get to hold his small waist.

Despite all his efforts, it didn’t take more than a few steps for Jimin to realize how awful Yoongi actually was at dancing. “Why are you so bad at this?,” the prince frowned after almost colliding with him for the fourth time because Yoongi was apparently not moving in the right direction.

Jimin shook his head with disbelief but his voice was sweet when he spoke. “Just let me-,” he took Yoongi’s hand on his waist and put it on his shoulder before seizing the guard’s waist, flustering Yoongi. “Just follow my lead.”

It was almost ridiculous how good Jimin was at leading and soon, they were effortlessly waltzing among the other couples without Yoongi tripping all over himself. Jimin’s hand on his waist was light but firm and his steps confident, handling Yoongi as if he were nothing more than a puppet.

For a while, they said nothing. The room was a blur of gold and shiny lights and maybe for the first time since he arrived, Yoongi finally relaxed his shoulders. “I didn’t know dancing could be so nice,” he sighed without realizing.

“I thought dancing was for faggots.”

Jimin’s words brought Yoongi back to reality like a knockout blow. His voice was still sweet but anger was suddenly boiling underneath it and something like disgust. His eyes were inscrutable, all Yoongi could see was his own deformed reflection being thrown back at him. 

He stuttered. “W-what do you mean?”

Jimin tilted his head as if he was looking at a hurt puppy. “You think you can come here, play nice and everybody will forget what you said, Minwoo-ssi?”

Yoongi didn’t realize they had stopped moving because his head was spinning. He had been a fool, thinking people would see Min Yoongi’s good intentions beneath the ugly mask of Prince Minwoo.

“You said you’d rather be dead than court another man,” Jimin continued, taking a step back. “So what happened? Uh, Minwoo-ssi? Did your mommy force you to come?”

As he looked at Jimin’s face, tensed with disdain, and as his own breathing rang in his ears, Yoongi made his choice. He was no hero. He was no prince. The clothes, the gold, the alcohol, it had all gone to his head but now he was finally awake. 

People were looking, he had to act. “Don’t play this game with me, munchkin. You are no match to me.”

“You think you’re so smart,” Jimin snickered. 

Yoongi replied with a cocky smile but before he could open his mouth, the King spoke up. Courtiers pushed through the crowd to get closer to the royal family and Yoongi lost sight of Jimin. When he turned his head toward the standing King, his closed fists were shaking.

“Dear contestants, you have been waiting for this moment for a long time. Time has come to reveal how you will prove your worth to my son during the first week of this Tournament.” He took a break, smiling at the crowd hanging onto his every word. “Starting from tomorrow, you’ll be tested on three essential skills : fighting, ruling and arts. You will be ranked according to your performances. At the end of the week, the contestants in the lowest half of the rankings will be sent home. Have a good night of sleep and good luck!”

Yoongi gritted his teeth. His instructions were to reach the third week of the Tournament and bring pride to the North Kingdom. He had to do good, for himself and for his family’s safety because if he lost early, he could be sure to come home to some sick punishment. 

He could lie.

He could be the asshole Jimin saw in him.

He could be Prince Yun Minwoo.

Chapter Text

Waking up in a royal bed was something else.

Yoongi rolled around, almost purring with delight with how soft the comforter felt around him. It was dawn because Yoongi was still a royal guard used to waking up early. As for Jimin, he was fast asleep in his bed and didn’t stir when Yoongi got up to use the bathroom. 

He was relieved to find out that his daily clothes were less formal than his evening wear. At least, he could fight in those pants. Since he still had time before breakfast, he slipped out on the balcony and lit a cigarette.

Their room wasn’t facing the city but the hills, which were slowly waking up, windows lighting up and small figures hurrying along the colorful terrace fields. Bathed in the pink light of dawn, the misty hills looked peaceful and nothing like Yoongi was used to. The North Kingdom’s capital was just all dark stones and mud.

He wondered how it would feel to come back to that after all this madness. Not only coming back to his job but to his father and sister. Would they dare to ask where he had been? Would his little sister run to him and hug him like she used to do when she was younger? 

The thought of coming home to a warm stew and his father’s steady voice brought a smile to his lips but it was bittersweet. What if he failed? What if the Queen decided to take revenge on those he cared the most about? Or Prince Minwoo? That bastard was capable of much worse. 

Seeing it was almost eight o’clock, he stubbed out his cigarette with a sigh. He reluctantly put his coat on because it was too long and heavy. He guessed he had to count himself lucky he at least didn’t have to wear a crown anymore.

Jimin was still sleeping, unbothered by the daylight warming up his sheets. He was going to be late, not that Yoongi cared, he didn’t. Jimin had made it pretty clear they weren’t friends. 

But he barely made it to the stairs before turning back with a groan. He couldn’t let him skip breakfast. You never knew with these princes, a little low blood sugar and they would faint.

Yet, it was more intimidating than it looked to wake the prince up. His mouth was slightly agape, soft puffs of air making his white locks flicker gently. His hands were firmly holding on his pillow but the comforter had slid down, revealing his silk shorts and tank top and, to Yoongi’s utter dismay, his naked tanned legs. 

Yoongi scolded himself for getting so easily baffled by the soft-looking prince. Jimin was attractive, and so what? Yoongi had seen tons of attractive people in his life, he would just get over it.

He stood as far as he could from the bed as he reached out and gently shook the prince’s shoulder. Jimin whined in his sleep, pressing his face deeper into his pillow. “No yet, noona…just a bit more…”

Yoongi shook him harder, finally getting him to open his eyes. Jimin blinked at him for a second before jumping away on the other side of the bed, almost landing on the floor in the process. 

“What are you doing?” he squeaked, clutching his pillow against his chest. 

“It’s eight,” Yoongi grumbled, already turning around to leave.

“Have you been smoking?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Who cares?”

“I care! It stinks and you-” 

Yoongi slammed the door before he could hear the end of Jimin’s complaint. 

Breakfast was overly copious but Yoongi tried to hold back after noticing most of the princes only picking at their food. How absurd that the richest people in the world thought starving themselves was fancy. 

After breakfast, they followed the intendant to the library so she could give them the instructions for the ruling test. 

The library was a marvellous place made of golden wood, with shelf ladders and a glass roof letting the warm sunbeams in. But despite everything, Yoongi’s blood ran cold when he heard the details of the task that was ahead of them. “Drafting a law,” the intendant said but he would have rather she said they had to jump into an erupting volcano.

He watched as the princes wandered along the aisles, skimming through law books and reports. Jimin was one of them. Round glasses with silver chains on his nose, he bit his bottom lip while nodding at some interesting part of the book he was holding. Yoongi resisted the urge to go to him, to beg for help because, although he wasn’t stupid, he knew nothing about law, not even the one from his own kingdom. 

He was walking along huge wooden tables, feeling out of place between the smell of old literature and the studious whispers, when a dead weight fell on him. He grunted, air pushed out of his lungs, his arms desperately trying to catch whatever had collapsed on him.

It took him a few seconds to understand it was a prince who had slipped from a ladder and landed right on him. The man had screamed in his fall but he screamed yet again when he realized in whose arms he had ended up, his hazel eyes staring back at Yoongi. 

“I am so so sorry, please put me down,” he whined, wriggling around to get out of Yoongi's hold.

Yoongi put him back on his feet thinking he was lucky the real Minwoo wasn’t here because there was no chance Prince Minwoo wouldn’t have been squashed like a pancake right on impact.

“Please forgive me, Minwoo-ssi,” the prince bowed to him for longer than was necessary. He was terrified, Yoongi understood with horror. Was he supposed to make a scene? Yell at him that he could have been killed? 

“Hoseok! I see you’ve met my friend Minwoo!” The loud voice was soon followed by yet another body crashing into Yoongi, but this time it was Seokjin wrapping his arm around his shoulder.

Hoseok looked up, relief washing over him at seeing the other prince smiling at him. “I’m deeply sorry, I slipped and-”

“No problem,” Yoongi interrupted with a shrug. He could hear Seokjin snicker at his attempt at looking tough.

“Don’t worry, Hobi,” Seokjin laughed. “He looks scary but he’s a sweetheart. Aren’t you, Minwoo-ssi?”

Yoongi swore he was dragging that name longer than necessary to piss him off. He cleared his throat. “Please, just call me Min,” he bowed his head to Hoseok. “I’m glad you didn't hurt yourself.”

Hoseok looked too surprised by his leniency to do more than nod with a tentative smile. How they immediately became friends, even Yoongi couldn’t tell, but he was thankful for it because the following days were not easy. 

Physical tests took place every afternoon. First jousting, then knife throwing and sword fighting. Yoongi fought in each of them until all he could taste was blood and warm golden sand in his mouth. Being highly ranked at fighting was his only chance to survive this first week.

Everyday he managed to get on the podium, his body aching and his sight blurry with exhaustion but everyday he had a big grin on his face when the crowd chanted Minwoo’s name. And everyday, he saw Jimin being pushed around and knocked down while he tumbled down the rankings. He almost jumped from his chair when the prince got a cut on his cheek during sword fighting. Next to him, Seokjin shook his head with a chuckle.

Jimin only bothered to speak to him when Yoongi woke him up in the morning, but even then it was nothing more than a few words and a glare. But at night, Yoongi would hear him muffle his sobs into a pillow until the exhaustion got to him. 

On the third day, he finally got first place in sword fighting and therefore earned a one-to-one date with Prince Jungkook. 

He felt clumsy and still dirty from his fight as he made his way to the enclosed garden where the prince was waiting for him. At first, they walked in silence under the fruit trees. A sweet scent hung in the air and birds were chirping on the branches. 

“Do you want to marry me?” Jungkook finally asked. His voice was soft and he was tilting his head with curiosity, making his golden jewelry tinkle harmoniously. 

“Of course, it would be an honor,” Yoongi tried to smile with confidence but the prince was clearly not buying the lie. His lips were curved in a small, sad smile.

“Do you want to marry a man?”

Yoongi swallowed. Minwoo didn’t like men and he had made it pretty clear an embarrassingly huge number of times. “I would like to be a friend to you,” he answered tentatively. “I would be a good husband. I wouldn’t ask questions.”

He held his breath but his words seemed to finally please the prince, whose smile turned genuine. “An alliance, that’s what you’re offering me?”

“I’m offering you freedom,” Yoongi replied. He had to pretend, though he already knew he was going to lose the Tournament on purpose. He did hope Jungkook would find his way to a good marriage. The kid looked like he deserved it.  

It was nighttime when he took his leave and his heart felt lighter. Jungkook seemed to really like him -he had even started to call him hyung-, he was dominating the physical competition, he was eating well and he had made two wonderful friends. If only some miracle could happen for the other tasks, especially that law proposal.

It’s therefore with a smile on his face that he entered his bedroom. Everything was dark and quiet inside, except for the rustling of the curtains in the wind. He padded across the room, not wanting to disturb Jimin’s sleep, and he was about to reach the bathroom when he stepped on something that felt a lot like a hard marble. 

He muffled a cry. 

There were marbles everywhere he tried to put his feet on, so he painfully hopped around until Jimin woke up with a grunt and turned the light on. Yoongi forgot the pain for a second because Jimin looked like he had cried himself to sleep again, his cheeks plump and his eyes red.

“What-” Yoongi looked down at his feet. The floor was covered with pearls, hundreds of tiny white pearls all around Jimin’s bed. “Did you drop your jewelry box or something?”

He looked around for a box but couldn’t find any so he crouched down and started collecting them in his hands. Some had a blue cast, others more of a pinkish hue but every one of them felt smooth and expensive against the rough skin of his palms. 

“You don’t have to,” Jimin sighed but he quickly climbed out of bed and began helping him. 

“Are you planning to have a necklace made with them?” Yoongi asked. He found a scarf in his closet and made a makeshift bag out of it. 

Jimin scoffed. “No, I’ll just throw them away.”

Yoongi laughed, thinking the prince was joking, but then he looked up and saw that Jimin was dead serious. The prince was looking at the pearls with distaste almost, throwing them carelessly into the bag. 

Yoongi looked down at the small spheres glimmering beautifully in the soft light. He had never seen the sea but he liked to think that was how the waters must look, cloudy and mesmerizing. His sister would love them, and so would his cat. 

“If you don’t want them then…,” he rubbed his neck, feeling uncomfortable asking. “Can I maybe take a few?” 

Jimin looked blankly at him before frowning. “To do what?”

Yoongi hesitated. There was no harm sharing a bit of his personal life, was it? He couldn’t admit he had a sister but a cat was alright, it wasn’t like Jimin knew much about Prince Minwoo’s pets. 

“For my cat. She goes crazy for anything shiny. I could make her some toys.” It wasn’t really a lie. Of course, he would make his sister a necklace first and maybe some bracelets, but if he had some pearls left his cat was next on the list. 

Jimin’s eyes softened. He put the last pearls in the bag but didn’t stand up. “You have a cat?”

“Yes, she is very pretty, with white fur and a pink nose. I rescued her in the rain when she was only a kitten.” Yoongi flushed realizing he was oversharing. Jimin probably didn’t care much about him or Sugar.

But Jimin smiled and even if it was a very tired smile, it made Yoongi’s heart skip a beat.

“I wish I had a cat, they’re so cute.”

Yoongi nodded before standing up to put the pearls on Jimin’s desk and trying very hard to push away from his mind any images of Jimin cuddling with a cat and how sweet it would look, how lucky the cat would be-

“Wait, Minwoo-ssi!” Jimin’s gasp pulled him away from his thoughts. “You’re bleeding.”

Yoongi had rolled up his sleeves to pick up the pearls and indeed, his forearm was crossed by a fresh scar from his earlier sword fight. He had completely forgotten about it. 

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged. He was used to minor injuries and this one didn’t even hurt. “Yours is worse,” he added, pointing at the small cut on Jimin’s cheek. 

Jimin reached up to touch his cheek as if he too had forgotten about his wound. He shook his head. “Sit down, we need to clean it.”

Yoongi felt silly sitting on the edge of Jimin’s bed waiting while the prince searched for the first-aid kit in the bathroom. When Jimin came to sit next to him, the sweetness of his scent filled Yoongi’s lungs. Something about Jimin just made him want to lie down, close his eyes, and tell him everything. Of all the people he had met, lying to Jimin had turned out to be the most difficult.

Jimin gently rested Yoongi’s forearm on his thigh -something Yoongi felt very normal about- and began cleaning the blood, his touch feather-like on Yoongi’s skin.

“How is he?” Jimin asked quietly after a long silence.

“Who?”

“Prince Jungkook.”

Yoongi thought about the man’s golden hair and bunny smile. “He is nice. He seems really smart and humble.”

Jimin hummed, his hands busy making a bandage around Yoongi’s arm. “I wish I could win at least one game so I could talk to him.” 

“You can win that law thing,” Yoongi said awkwardly, “or the artistic test. You’re dancing, right?”

Jimin nodded, looking surprised that Yoongi knew that information and maybe yes, he was being more attentive to Jimin than he would have liked to admit. “What work of art are you submitting?”

Anxiety immediately rose up in Yoongi’s chest. “I-I don’t know yet.” He was so fucked, he had no skills in arts. 

“You should go to the art studio tomorrow,” Jimin suggested. “Since we have a rest day, you’ll have time to come up with something.”

“I will,” Yoongi said in a whisper because the mood was strangely intimate. It felt like they were alone in the world, in the middle of the night, wrapped in the dim glow of Jimin’s bedside lamp. Jimin wasn’t looking at him, he was fidgeting with his bandage, trying to smooth creases that weren’t there. 

Yoongi allowed himself a moment to admire the prince. He gladly believed the rumour about his mermaid ancestors because his beauty was unearthly. He made Yoongi want to protect him, to roll him up in a blanket and make sure he was happy and warm. Somehow, he was thankful to Minwoo for making him discover that such gorgeous beings were walking on the same planet as him.

Suddenly Jimin shivered and whipped his hands away from Yoongi's arm. “Oh, uhm, it’s done.” His cheeks were flustered as he hurried away in the bathroom. It caused Yoongi to also come back to earth. He blinked, his eyes were stinging with exhaustion.

When Jimin came back he was looking at the pearls on the desk. “You can take them, all of them,” the prince said. 

“Really?”

Jimin didn’t look so sure but he nodded. Later that night, when Yoongi turned off his light to go to sleep, he heard Jimin mutter a “good night” on the other side of the room.

He smiled to himself.

“Good night, Jimin-ssi.” 

At dawn the next day, he found himself in front of the art studio. It was a pretty greenhouse at the end of the palace’s garden but to him, it looked as intimidating as a fort to be besieged. He pushed the glass door. Inside, the air was hot and humid. Plants were climbing up the walls and flowers blossomed among the art supplies. 

He startled when he heard a voice coming from the back of the room.

“Oh, Min-ssi!”

One of the princes he recognized as Hoseok’s roommate was standing up in front of a huge abstract painting. His overalls were stained with paint and he had some yellow in his curly hair. Even more surprising, he was grinning at Yoongi in a friendly way.

“Are you going to work on your project?” he asked, cleaning his hands with a cloth. 

Yoongi looked around him and shrugged. “Yes, I guess.”

“You haven’t started yet?” The prince -Taehyung if he remembered right- insisted, coming closer. By the look on his face, Yoongi understood he had waited way too long to start his piece. 

“I’m not much of an artist,” he grumbled. Art was the last thing on his mind when he was constantly trying to support his family. His sister was still a child and his father’s back was in too bad a condition to let him work.

Taehyung’s smile widened. “Everybody is somewhat of an artist, hyung, we just need to find what you’re good at!”

The we , the hyung , the excitement, Yoongi was speechless. Whatever Hoseok had said to his roommate about him it must have been quite flattering for the prince to be so friendly towards the scary Yun Minwoo. 

Taehyung pushed until Yoongi admitted he had some experience as a carpenter. Obviously, he omitted the fact that his father was a carpenter himself and pretended it was some princely hobby of his. 

“Making furniture is an art,” Taehyung said, looking serious. “I’m sure Prince Jungkook would rather have something beautiful and useful than some tacky jewelry.”

Yoongi let himself be convinced. He had no other choices anyway, carpentry was all he knew beside fighting. So he sat down to draw a sketch while Taehyung went back to his painting.

A few hours later, Yoongi was already sawing the first wooden boards. He had decided on making a trunk for Jungkook since princes had so many clothes, he was sure he would find a use for it. 

It felt nostalgic to work with wood again. He suddenly realized how much he had missed hanging out in his father’s workshop. As a kid, he would touch everything, especially the sharp tools his father yelled at him to stay away from. Wood smelt like home and a serenity he would never get to taste again.

He left the studio with Taehyung around noon but instead of going to lunch like the prince, he took advantage of his renewed confidence to head to the royal library to work on the written test. He could perhaps think about some military laws, he did know a lot about that. Did he know how to write a law? Well, no that was the issue.

The corridors of the palace were quiet. He didn’t know what the King and Queen were up to all day but it seemed like Jungkook didn’t go out of his chambers much. Although his steps were quiet on the soft carpet, it still didn’t feel right to be allowed to walk around instead of staying standing still on duty. 

He was about to turn towards the library when a quiet melody stopped him in his tracks. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of a red double door. It looked like one of the princes was practicing piano on the other side and despite telling himself to leave it, Yoongi stood there listening. It was such a light, almost airy melody. He had never heard anything like that before. 

He quietly opened the door, just wanting to take a peek inside. It was not a regular room but a whole auditorium with red velvet seats flowing down towards a stage. He didn’t know the woman playing the piano, it was likely she was one of the palace musicians, but he knew the man dancing on stage. 

He took a few steps inside to have a better look at Jimin who was whirling and jumping on stage like those fairy princes in the stories his mother used to tell him before bed. 

His mind had to have been rotted by years and years of military training because his first thought was: Jimin can fight . But before he could linger on the thought, the music abruptly stopped and Jimin’s eyes fixed upon him. 

The prince was panting, hands on his hips, but his glare was as sharp as ever.

“What are you doing?” he asked and the annoyance in his voice filled the whole room.

Yoongi was already walking down the stairs. “You can fight,” he said with a short laugh. He knew he was acting funny but Jimin needed to know.

Jimin didn’t seem to understand. His frown deepened. “Get lost. I’m trying to work here.”

“No, I’m serious,” Yoongi insisted, making an effort to calm down his sudden excitement. He stood by the stage, looking up at Jimin. “You’re strong, you’re fast, you know how to use your body. I don’t know why you’ve never been trained, it’s really a shame-”

“I have no liking for fighting.” Jimin’s voice was cutting.

Yoongi stuttered a bit. “Y-yeah I get that but…you will continue to fall down the rankings if you continue.”

He didn’t know why it was so important to him. Maybe because it felt comforting to focus on Jimin’s issues instead of his own or rather to focus on something familiar, something he knew he could do well unlike all those princely things. 

“I can train you,” he hurried to add. “You could easily beat half of them if you only had some minimal training.” 

Jimin didn’t decline right away but he looked doubtful. He kept worrying his lip between his teeth. He must know his results at the physical tests were alarming but were they alarming enough to take the risk and trust Yun Minwoo?

“What do you want in exchange?”

Yoongi hadn’t thought about that. Of course, Prince Minwoo would want something in exchange. Luckily, the answer came quickly to him. 

“Help me with the ruling test and I’ll help you with the physical tests.”

Jimin nodded, though his eyes were still careful. He glanced at the pianist but she was pretending to be very interested in the score in front of her. Yoongi didn’t know if what he had just offered counted as cheating but she wouldn’t say anything anyway. 

“Alright,” Jimin finally agreed with a frown. “It’s a deal.”

He walked down the stage so they could shake hands. His fingers felt short and soft against Yoongi’s palm. 

“Deal.”

He might still have a chance to reach the second week of the Tournament after all.

Chapter Text

They started training that very afternoon.

The next physical test would take place the next day so they had no time to waste. In the training room, Yoongi felt at home. The ceiling was high, supported by thick white columns sinking deep into the ground. All sorts of weapons were displayed on the walls.

Among them, Yoongi took two bows and two quivers full of arrows. “Let’s go outside,” he told Jimin. 

The prince followed him without a word. He looked smaller here, as if he was shrinking away from the deadly weapons all around him. On the contrary, Yoongi felt at ease in his black training outfit, it’s the closest he had been to looking like himself since his arrival.

Behind the glass doors, enclosed by tall trees, a shooting field was waiting for them. A few princes were already shooting arrows at the red targets but Yoongi led Jimin as far away from them as possible. He had a feeling the prince wouldn’t be comfortable shooting in front of their rivals’ eyes.

“I’ll show you first,” he said as they reached the edge of the woods. 

He notched an arrow, feeling the tautness of the bowstring. He used to play around with bows a lot as a kid so he knew he was pretty good at it. The arrow flew before landing next to the center of the target. He smiled. 

A sparkle of interest made its way to Jimin’s eyes. The prince took a bow and tried to reproduce his gesture but his arrow went flying between the trees. 

“You should hold the string closer to your cheek,” Yoongi recommended. “And your body should be turned.” He automatically moved forwards to correct Jimin’s position. The prince tensed when hands gently seized his waist, making Yoongi quickly withdraw his hands. “Should be better,” he muttered, feeling embarrassed.

Thankfully, Jimin quickly took the hold of it. His arrows landed closer and closer to the target’s center every time. After a while, he even seemed to find enjoyment in it. He cheered when he succeeded, pouted when he failed. Yoongi too found himself relaxing and laughing at his reactions. They barely notice the field getting fuller with contestants.

“Let’s have a battle,” Jimin suggested after a moment, a confident smile on his lips.

Yoongi huffed. “You think you can beat me, Jimin-ssi?”

“I’ll sure try, Min.” 

Yoongi felt his face warm up hearing Jimin say his name. Not his real name, right, but it was close enough. He realized it was likely Jimin would never say his whole name, that he would perhaps never know he had met Min Yoongi and not Prince Yun Minwoo. 

Jimin shot three arrows that sunk into the outer circle of the target. That made him pout. “I’m not good under pressure.”

“You just need to forget about the competition,” Yoongi said, striking two arrows in the inner circle. “Tomorrow, just pretend you're training with me.” 

He smirked when his last arrow landed perfectly in the center but when he turned to Jimin he wasn’t looking at the target, he was looking at him. Jimin quickly shook his head and looked away but the heat of his glare kept burning Yoongi’s neck for a long time. 

They both got startled when they heard Hoseok and Seokjin calling Yoongi.

“Min! We knew we would find you here,” Seokjin grinned at them before patting Yoongi’s back. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to win again tomorrow,” Hoseok joked. Before Jimin could retreat, scared away by the two loud princes, Hoseok offered him his hand. “You’re Jimin, right?”

The smaller prince shook his hand with a shy nod. “I see Min hyung has taken things into his own hands,” Hoseok continued. “He kept saying you will have your chances at archery.”

Yoongi barely stopped himself from slamming his hand over his friend’s mouth. He had only mentioned Jimin once. Maybe twice. Alright, maybe a few times but Hoseok was making him come out as obsessive. Which he was not . He was just frustrated by Jimin’s unexplored capacities. That was purely professional curiosity. 

“Jimin certainly has his chances,” he said sternly. “He is learning quickly.”

He pretended to go back to training to avoid his friends’ knowing gazes but he found himself smiling when he heard Jimin starting a casual conversation with them. Seokjin even gave him some tips to manage his stress before the conversation shifted to clothes and jewelry. 

Since the sun was going down, they walked together to the dining hall. Yoongi didn’t know if Jimin was just putting up with him because of the two other princes but even if it was the case he felt happy he had stopped acting like Yoongi didn’t exist. 

Jimin even gave him his apple pie. There was no way he knew it was Yoongi’s favorite and he said he was not hungry anymore but that made Yoongi feel shy and then stupid for being affected by something so small. 

“We should head to the library,” Jimin said when they all stood up to leave. 

Yoongi, who was eager for a hot shower and his bed, looked at him with wide reluctant eyes. Jimin giggled. “May I remind you that you haven’t even started writing your law, Min?”

He was right so they bid their friends goodbye and climbed up the stairs to the library in silence. Jimin seemed to withdraw into himself once they were alone. Yoongi didn’t blame him. He knew what comments Prince Minwoo had made and he could only imagine how much they had hurt someone like Jimin. 

Jimin was like a butterfly. He could flap his wings around Yoongi’s head and rest on his shoulder, but he would never let Yoongi extend his hand and put his dirty fingers on him. He wondered if Jimin would let Prince Jungkook come closer, if he would tell him his secrets and giggle at his jokes and the mere thought of it upset him.

The silence in the library was only disturbed by moments by a few princes whispering in a corner. Jimin showed him around the shelves, pointing out the main books of law of the Golden Kingdom and after half an hour, Yoongi’s hands were full of them.

They sat down at one of the large tables. Jimin took out of his bag several sheets of paper covered with ink. It looked like he was almost done.

“What law are you drafting?” Yoongi asked, curious. 

“A law banning same-sex marriages,” Jimin answered plainly.

Jimin burst into laughter at Yoongi’s stunned reaction, collapsing on the table in the process. The other princes threw them dirty looks. Yoongi felt embarrassment stain his neck. Now that they were allies, he disliked even more that Jimin thought he was some homophobic moron. 

“I bet you would vote for that,” Jimin said, weeping the tears his laughter had brought to his eyes. “Actually, I’m writing a law that would allow students with disabilities to have more time and resources during exams.” 

“Jimin I-,” Yoongi sighed. “That’s a wonderful idea. But about me and…what I’ve said before. I hope you know that I don’t think these things anymore. I’ve changed.”

Minwoo hadn’t changed but there was a chance that in the same situation he’d have at least pretended he had. Or maybe that was just what Yoongi was trying to convince himself of because it was getting harder and harder to stay in character in front of Jimin. 

There was a long silence. Jimin was not smiling anymore, instead a frown threatened to fall on his eyebrows. 

“I don’t care. You can think whatever you want,” he said but his voice was far from indifferent. 

Yoongi knew it must be difficult for him, and confusing too. Yoongi was not the complete asshole he had expected and now was also his ally, while still being his rival in the Tournament. What a messy situation they had both fallen into.

“Let’s focus on helping you draft your law,” Jimin finally added firmly. He put on his silver glasses that Yoongi thought made him look pretty and handed him a sheet of paper. “What issue do you want to address?”

“I was thinking about something about the military.”

Jimin’s lips turned into a doubtful pout.

“What? Is it bad?” Yoongi asked with a self-conscious chuckle.

“I wouldn’t say it’s bad,” Jimin said, now biting the top of his pen. Yoongi forced his eyes away from his perfect full lips. “But you’ve already proven yourself in the military field. I think it would be nice to show off your other interests.”

That was where Jimin was wrong. Yoongi had no other interest. Never had had the time to develop any since he had started training at seven years old. As for Prince Minwoo, Yoongi wasn’t aware of any of his hobbies apart from hunting and visiting brothels. 

“You can start by thinking about what you feel could be better in the North Kingdom. Then we can see how it could apply here.”

Yoongi thought about all the injustices that had angered him throughout his life. There were many of them but one stood out immediately. Watching his father’s physical condition getting worse and worse until he couldn’t work anymore had been tough. He had only been fourteen years old when he had had to take on the role of breadwinner for his family.

“Compensations,” he finally said. “People who have worked hard all their life should receive money when they can’t work anymore.”

Jimin seemed delighted by the idea, if not a little surprised. He took time searching through the books with Yoongi until they got a good idea of the compensation system already in place in the Golden Kingdom. 

“It looks like they only have compensation for veterans or in case of serious accidents,” Jimin concluded. “What about proposing a bill that would include people working physically demanding jobs?”

Under Jimin’s guidance, Yoongi began to understand how institutions worked, how laws were passed and what should be written in a bill. He was so focused on gathering information from the books and brainstorming ideas that he didn’t notice Jimin was gone until he came back with two cups of coffee.

“Look at what a hard-working student I have,” Jimin smiled, putting a steaming cup in front of Yoongi.

Yoongi tried not to look too bashful but he couldn’t help his cheeks warming up as Jimin sat down next to him instead of in front of him where his belongings were. A part of him craved the closeness, Jimin’s body felt so right by his side even if he knew everything about it was wrong.

“Let me see,” Jimin hummed gently. He read Yoongi’s work, nodding and making little noises of approbation. Yoongi had to look away because he couldn’t let Jimin see how much he wanted to be praised. “That’s a very good start. We should come back tomorrow after the archery test, we don’t have much time left.”

Jimin had almost finished his own bill so he told Yoongi he was going to spend the day after tomorrow working on his dance performance. 

“You’re a very good dancer,” Yoongi said, the images of Jimin’s graceful movements still fresh in his mind. He wished he could see it again, he had been too focused on the whole fighting thing the first time to really enjoy it. When he would come back home, he would tell his little sister about the fairy prince he had met and how beautiful the world was outside of their Kingdom.

“I don’t know if it’s a compliment,” Jimin teased, “coming from a dancer as bad as you.”

Yoongi laughed. “I’d lose for sure if we are ever tested on our dancing skills.”

“I’d teach you.” Jimin’s voice had been quiet. He was not looking at Yoongi but he could still see the pink on his cheekbones. “If you think I can fight then I believe you can dance.”

Yoongi found nothing to answer. Jimin cleared his throat before adding, “I actually like singing more than dancing but…I figured people would be scared of hearing me sing.”

That mermaid thing again. Yoongi still didn’t understand the matter. The fact that Jimin looked like a mermaid with his silver patches and white hair only made him even more gorgeous. To Yoongi, his origins inspired respect, awe and a good explanation for that inner light that always seemed to shine inside of him and made him feel breathless.

“I’d love hearing you sing,” he said. “What’s wrong with your singing?”

“Mermaids’ songs have been deadly in the past,” Jimin explained. He was trying to say it jokingly but it came out more bitter than anything.

“I think I could handle it,” Yoongi said lightly. 

Jimin stared at him for a long second. Sometimes, it hit Yoongi like a truck, just how vulnerable he looked.

“I can handle mermaids,” he continued in an attempt to fill the silence. His voice turned quieter. “I could be a good mermaid handler.”

What was he even saying? He realized it sounded somewhat sexual as soon as it left his mouth. Of course, his intent was to say he could win a fight against a mermaid, not that he could handle mermaids in any other way. Not that he didn’t want to, of course if Jimin wanted, not that Jimin wanted anything from him but-

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jimin laughed it away but he refused to meet Yoongi’s eyes until they decided to walk back to their room.

They didn’t get much sleep because Yoongi insisted they trained for an hour before breakfast. Jimin whined more than usual when he woke him up and he almost had to physically drag him out of bed.

“You look like a baby bird,” Yoongi joked as they crossed the now empty archery field. Jimin tried to glare at him but with his disheveled hair and sleepy pout he didn’t look quite threatening. 

When they started shooting, Yoongi tried to focus on his own warmup but he couldn’t help noticing that Jimin’s arrows were reaching the woods more often than his target.

“Do you need help?” he asked casually.

“No.”

Jimin shot another arrow that got lost between the trees. 

“Jimin-ssi, I can-”

“I told you I didn’t need help,” Jimin snapped back but his voice turned shaky towards the end. “It’s useless,” he sniffed. “Just admit I’m bad at it already.”

“You’re absolutely not bad at it,” Yoongi gently squeezed his shoulder. “You did great yesterday. It’s normal to feel a little anxious.”

He wanted to give Jimin a hug but he restrained himself, not wanting to cross a line. That was until Jimin literally collapsed on him. He was visibly asking to be held so Yoongi cradled him close, shoulders relaxing, letting his guard down.

Jimin didn’t cry, in fact he seemed to be making an effort to prevent any tears from spilling from his eyes. He obviously didn’t trust Yoongi enough to break down in front of him. Part of Yoongi was grateful for that because it was already hard enough to keep a professional distance from him as it was. 

And so for a while it was just the birds singing in the early morning and Jimin’s shaky breath brushing against Yoongi’s skin. The prince was not much smaller than him but he felt tiny in his arms. His torso was slender, allowing Yoongi’s shoulders to wrap themself completely around him. 

“My parents were right,” Jimin’s sad voice vibrated against his bones. “I’m not made for this.”

“Of course, you’re made for this Jimin-ssi. You’re a prince,” Yoongi answered, confused.

“And can you stop calling me Jimin-ssi?” Jimin pulled back to frown at him. 

“Alright, Jimin. I don’t know what your parents told you but you’re doing great. You’re going to score well in the ruling and artistic fields, you just need to climb up some places in the physical rankings.”

“You think?” Jimin looked up at him with such puppy eyes that Yoongi would have said yes anyway but he really thought Jimin could win that Tournament. 

“Yes, I recognize a fighter when I see one,” Yoongi smiled softly. He brushed Jimin’s hair away from his face and felt the cool pearls decorating it brush against his fingers. Jimin was really pretty all around. 

He spent the remaining time giving Jimin tips and helping him regain confidence. The prince was truly good but he needed to believe in himself if he wanted to succeed.

The official competition took place in the gardens after breakfast. Targets had been lined up along a peaceful stream so that the contestants could shoot them from the rose garden. Yoongi was placed too far away from Jimin to clearly see his performance, still he kept throwing glances to his left hoping to get a look at the prince’s target. 

In the blazing sun, the test seemed to last an eternity but at least Yoongi could tell Jimin was doing good since he didn’t leave when half of the contestants were eliminated before the second round. Then, they announced the winner and it was Yoongi and Jimin was throwing himself in his arms because he had ranked ninth out of twenty.

Guards had to tear Yoongi away from his friends congratulating him and Jimin’s hand still holding on his arm to walk him to his date with Prince Jungkook. Yoongi would have rather spent his lunch with Jimin and listened to the story of how he had managed to rank so well but he couldn’t possibly disappoint the prince he was supposed to court. 

Besides, Jungkook had become kind of a friend to him. 

This time, they sat down on a balcony in front of a huge bowl of ice cream. Jungkook looked happy to see him, even if his excitement had a sad edge to it, as if he was dying of boredom hiding away in his chambers. It rubbed Yoongi the wrong way that despite the Tournament being his, he was kept away from the competition like an expensive trophy. 

“I’ve been thinking about your offer,” Jungkook said after they had exchanged polite greetings. “About being friends.”

Yoongi nodded. The prince looked nervous, he was pushing his ice cream around. 

“Would you be okay with me having someone else?” he flushed easily. “Like…a lover?”

That surprised Yoongi because Jungkook seemed so carefully sheltered from the world that he didn’t see where he could have met a lover. Maybe someone among his servants.

“Do you have someone specific in mind?” he laughed but Jungkook only turned redder. “You do ?”

Jungkook wiggled on his chair. “I met him a year ago,” he admitted with a shy smile.

Yoongi did his best not to look too stunned as Prince Jungkook proceeded to explain how he had met the man of his dreams. He had been on his way back home in the early spring when his ship had sunk in the middle of the east sea. He only owed his survival to a ship that was passing by and rescued him. The captain from that ship was from the Indigo Islands, a remote archipelago that Yoongi had only heard of a few times. 

“His name is Kim Namjoon, he is the youngest son of the royal family,” Jungkook said dreamily. “He was so tall and had cute dimples when he smiled. He went out his way to make sure I arrived home safely.”

That at least explained why Jungkook had been nothing but miserable all throughout the Tournament. The Indigo Islands and the Golden Kingdom weren’t on friendly terms which meant there was no chance Jungkook’s parents would have sent an invitation to Kim Namjoon. 

Still, Yoongi wondered if Jungkook had been hoping all along that the rumor would reach the other prince and that he would come running to stop the Tournament. 

“Do you know any way you could contact him?” Yoongi asked, although he feared he already knew the answer.

Jungkook shook his head. “I keep telling myself that he knows where I live, if he really wanted-” He sighed and his sadness cracked a piece of Yoongi’s heart. He could understand now more than ever how it felt to yearn for someone who was out of reach.

He shouldn’t have promised anything, yet he promised Jungkook he wouldn’t care if he had a lover in their supposed marriage. Maybe the kid needed the hope. Maybe he needed to feel that someone was on his side.

He spent the rest of the afternoon with Jimin in the library. The prince was more chatty than usual so they didn’t get much work done until Jimin finished his writing and decided to take a nap on the table. 

Day turned into night, the library emptied itself and Yoongi kept writing.

Like Jimin, he needed tomorrow to finish his art project so he would have to finish that bill tonight. Around three in the morning, he couldn’t focus anymore. It would have to be enough. His text wasn’t perfect but he was proud of it. He smiled thinking his father would be proud too if he knew that his son had read real law books and written real legislation.

The cracks on the table were probably printed on Jimin’s cheek by now with how long he had been sleeping on it. Yoongi packed the prince’s belongings in his bag before shaking his shoulder.

“Jimin, time to go to bed.”

“Hyung,” Jimin whined without opening his eyes. “I’m sleepy.”

Yoongi tried to make him stand up but all he earned was Jimin clinging more onto him. Since he was too tired to care about keeping the appearances and even less about acting like Yun Minwoo, he put both their bags on his shoulders and lifted Jimin in his arms.

The prince slept the whole way to their bedroom, nuzzling Yoongi’s chest like his cat Sugar would do sometimes. He barely opened his eyes when Yoongi put him to bed and gently took off his glasses and shoes. 

“You worked hard, Jimin-ah,” he smiled fondly at the man before going to bed himself.

The next day, he didn’t get to see Jimin until the evening. He woke up before dawn and spent the whole day at the art studio. Kim Taehyung was also there finishing his huge painting and Yoongi enjoyed the company. The prince was funny and could talk for hours without needing Yoongi to do more than humming a few times to show he was still listening.

His trunk slowly took form. It was made of light brown wood that went perfectly with the golden handle he added in the end. For the decoration, he painted the sea and an indigo ship with some help from Taehyung’s drawing skills. 

By the end of the day, he was exhausted but he was just in time for the ceremony where all art pieces would be submitted. A servant took his trunk away and he was told to get change in his evening dress. Jimin was not in their bedroom when he arrived. He couldn’t help feeling a pang of disappointment but he reminded himself that the prince was likely warming up before his performance.

The ceremony took place in the auditorium where Jimin and him had sealed their alliance. Jungkook and his parents were sitting in the front while the contestants presented their project one by one on stage. Yoongi had no time to try and find his friends because he was sent to the stage as soon as he arrived.

He gave a brief presentation of his work, feeling extremely self-conscious. He knew he had done a good job, especially with the limited time he had been granted but he was still afraid of it not being enough of a royal gift. Still afraid everybody would see right through his act and see the unimportant peasant he was.

Either Jungkook really loved the trunk, or he liked Yoongi enough to act like it, but he received it with excitement, gushing for a long time about the little details and how practical it looked.

Once he was done, Yoongi found a seat in the audience and quietly watched the princes present their projects. Seokjin came up with an elaborate chess set he had handmade.  Some princes sang, some played instruments or exhibited tapestries they had embroidered. Taehyung received plenty of applause for his painting and so did Hoseok after his demonstration of his dancing skills.

“Jimin is next,” Hoseok whispered when he sat down next to the three other princes. 

“I heard he moves like water,” Seokjin said. “Can’t wait to see it.”

The piano started and Jimin entered. He was wearing an all white sparkly outfit that hid little of the curves of his body. He looked nervous at first but anxiety faded away from his face as soon as he started dancing.

His performance was as magical as Yoongi remembered. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the prince, from the way he moved, from the way emotions were expressed on his face. His dance was sad, somewhat melancholic as if he was fighting against invisible forces like he sometimes did in his sleep and Yoongi would wake up to distressed whimpers in the dark. 

As soon as the music stopped, Jungkook stood up to applaud him warmly. It was obvious it had been his favorite performance of the night. The King and Queen followed and soon, all the princes were applauding too.

Jimin smiled and bowed politely but his eyes bypassed the royal family to focus entirely on Yoongi. When their eyes met, he grinned, his cheek puffing up with bright joy. Yoongi gave him a thumbs up, feeling proud as if Jimin was a part of himself. And maybe he was since he had managed to make a home in the biggest part of his heart in a matter of a few days.

Any joy was suddenly drained from Yoongi’s chest.

The worst had happened. 

Or had he let it happen? 

Had he really been such a fool?

There was no denying it. He was falling in love with Park Jimin.

Chapter Text

Jimin stared at the blank paper in front of him. 

His parents would be waiting for a letter now that the first week of the Tournament had ended and he had been selected for the second week, but he couldn’t find the right words. All he could think about was the infamous northern prince his parents had precisely warned him about. 

He nervously bit the top of his ink pen. He could write about winning both the artistic and the ruling tests and going on a day-long date with Prince Jungkook. Then what? Should he lie and say he had fallen in love with the younger prince? He wished he had. Everything would be easier if he had.

Looking at the clock, he decided to leave his writing for later and head to the training room. Even though the King had said this week would be less busy with trials, he still had to get ready for the two physical competitions that were scheduled. 

He caught himself styling his hair in the mirror, checking if the little scar of his cheek was healed. He scolded himself silently. Why did he care? Min would laugh at him if he saw him. 

He found the prince smoking outside on the archery field. Jimin couldn’t help his eyes roaming down his broad shoulders to his slim waist squeezed in fitted black pants. Min also had those curly black locks that Jimin was slightly obsessed with because they looked so soft to the touch.

He saw Min throw his cigarette away and immediately hurried towards the wrestling mats, not wanting to be caught staring. 

“Did you eat breakfast?” Min asked as soon as he entered the empty room.

Jimin nodded though it was a lie. He had been too anxious about writing his letter to think about eating but now his stomach was growling and he was regretting not at least munching on a toast. 

“Do you know anything about wrestling?” Min said, taking his boots off. His voice sounded standoffish. If Jimin was honest with himself, he had noticed that the prince acting cold towards him since they had got their first week results.

Maybe it was just that they hadn’t seen much of each other yesterday with Jimin spending his day with Prince Jungkook but he felt like there was something more. One thing he had only realized this morning was that they were now the two favourites in this competition. With Jimin ranking first in two fields and Min performing so well in the physical tests, as well as earning good rankings in the others, they had become the most feared contestants of the Tournament.

“Not really,” he suddenly remembered to answer Min’s question about wrestling. 

They started with a quick warm-up before Min explained the rules and showed him the most basic techniques. Unlike archery, which had ensured some distances between them, wrestling involved physical contact. Then again, Min seemed unwilling to touch Jimin for too long, although it had never been a problem before. 

It hurt deeply that one of the only men here who dared to touch Jimin’s skin was suddenly acting like he was poisonous. It made him feel a bit ashamed of himself and how much he had come to yearn for Min’s physical touch.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to hate the guy. Even before they were announced as roommates, he had made the decision to completely ignore him. Now, he still felt anger for the homophobic stuff Min had said in the past but attraction had been stronger, drawing him closer to the northern prince, making him ask questions about everything he had sworn he wouldn’t care about, making him hope that Min was telling the truth when he said he had changed.

The feeling of being tackled down and painfully hitting the mat pulled him away from his thoughts. Min was frowning at him from where he was sitting on top of his chest.

“Come on, Jimin. You need to focus.”

Jimin wished he could focus on something else than the weight of Min on top of him and how easily he had shoved him to the ground but it was getting harder and harder. From this close, it dizzied him how well he could smell Min’s natural scent underneath the cigarette smoke and feel his warm skin through his clothes. 

“Can we take a break?” he pouted, throwing puppy eyes at the prince above him.

For the first time today, a thin smile appeared on Min’s lips. “Alright, let’s take ten minutes.”

He sat down against the wall, looking at the trees softly swinging in the wind outside. Min handed him a bottle of water and a cereal bar. “You need to eat before training,” his voice was stern as he plopped down next to him. 

Jimin blushed at the prince’s nonchalant ways of taking care of him. It had somehow gotten to his head, so much that he had to remind himself more often than not that Prince Minwoo was straight, straight and probably disgusted at the idea of another man liking him more than a friend. 

“I wasn’t hungry,” he mumbled.

“I thought you would be after all that horse riding you did with Jungkook yesterday.”

“We had a picnic so I was pretty full.”

“A picnic?” Min smirked and Jimin wondered if he knew how attractive that was. “Jungkook must like you a lot.”

Although he was glad to see Min in a good mood again, Jimin had to stop himself from pouting. He didn’t know why Min not being jealous of his relationship with Jungkook upset him. Did he not see him as competition? Or did he really want him to get married that much?

“Did he tell you anything about,” Min started but then he paused, as if looking for the right words, “about how he sees marriage?”

Actually, marriage might be the only thing they hadn’t talked about. Jimin hadn’t dared to bring up the subject, or rather he had been happy acting like it wasn’t the point of it all. The younger prince was cute and funny and he could see them becoming good friends but married? No. Not yet. Maybe never. 

“I don’t remember us talking about marriage. Did you two talk a lot about it?”

“We did, but I guess my situation is different since I’m not-”

Gay , Jimin filled the blank. 

He wondered for the thousandth time what the heck Min was doing here. Did he just want to win the Tournament for the honor of it? Now that he knew the real Minwoo, he couldn’t believe the northern prince would agree to an arranged marriage. He was too loving towards his friends, even towards Jimin.

The break was soon over and they went back on the mat to go over the same techniques again. Jimin tried his best to ignore the fact that it was Min teaching him and focus on learning. The number of tests being reduced also meant that this week he would have to do good on every one of them. 

“Do you need any help with the reading?” he asked when they put their shoes back on after Min said they were done for today. He had just realized that while Min was still helping him, he hadn’t asked any help for the other test, which implied reading Jungkook’s favourite books and writing a review about them.

“I know how to read,” Min chuckled.

Jimin rolled his eyes. “I know that. I was just thinking you might want me to proofread your review.”

“I think I’ll be alright.”

The rejection burned a little, making Jimin feel annoyed. What was the point of helping each other if it was just Min helping him? 

But his heart softened when Min continued, almost shyly. “Actually, I wanted to ask you what books I should read if I want to study law a bit more?”

“There are many of them!” Jimin grinned at him, excited at the idea of them spending time together in the library again. “I can show you before lunch.”

“Oh, no need to come with me. Just tell me the names,” Min said, scratching the back of his neck. 

Here it was again. The standoffishness. 

Jimin’s heart dropped in his chest. He had really been a fool. Min was making it clear that they had never been friends. Their alliance was just that, an alliance. Min hadn’t come here to make friends. Just like his parents had said. Just like everybody had said.

“We don’t need to be friends, Minwoo-ssi. To be honest, I don’t even know why you wanted to train today.”

A part of him was hoping Min would protest but he only shrugged. “You’re right, maybe we shouldn’t be friends,” he said, not meeting Jimin’s eyes.

Jimin sighed and walked away, leaving the other prince standing in the room. He needed some fresh air.

Sat by the pond in the palace garden half an hour later, he finally took a deep breath. Then he cried. Just a little bit. 

Small bluish pearls fell from his eyes, dropping like hail on the green grass. He wondered how many of his ancestors had felt the same way. Pretty mermaids falling in love with rough sailors and once the unavoidable betrayal happened, filling the oceans with their shiny tears. 

He cried because he had dreamed for an instant of Min holding him close. He had dreamed of the heartless prince falling for someone like him. And he shouldn’t have dreamed, he should have stayed angry, he should have stayed away.

He angrily threw his pearls into the pond before lying down. He drifted away, lulled into sleep by the sound of the frogs and dreamed of the ocean and his mother’s voice. 

A familiar voice woke him up. He whined, feeling too comfy in the warm sunlight until a cold shadow lingered over him. 

“You’re going to get sunburned, Park Jimin.”

He opened his eyes to see Min looking down at him. He closed them right back.

“Go away, Min.”

He heard a sigh and then, “I came here to apologize.”

“I don’t care.”

He felt the ground vibrating with someone sitting down heavily next to him. Min’s scent was already there, easily finding its way to his pining heart. His treacherous mermaid sense. It was the only thing he had always trusted blindly but now it was telling him again and again that Min was safe to love. He wanted to throw it in the water too.

“Are you going to swim?”

His annoyance was too strong for Jimin not to lift himself up on his elbows and glare at the prince next to him.

“I thought you had an apology for me.”

Min offered him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, Jimin. For saying we shouldn't be friends, for being distant, for…everything. I’m very grateful for all the help you gave me. I just- it’s hard being friends knowing we’ll go back to strangers.”

“We don’t have to become strangers,” Jimin said softly. In his head, Min would come visit him in winter and they would celebrate the New Year together. He would show him the sea and his parents would realize Min was nothing like the terrible prince they had described to him. 

Min didn’t turn his eyes away from the pond. “I wish things were different,” he said and Jimin didn’t want to pry but he had hundreds of questions on the tip of his tongue. About the North Kingdom, about the Queen, about Min’s daily life and the white cat sleeping on his bed waiting for him to come home. 

“I know it hasn't been easy for you either,” Min continued after a while. “I’m really sorry.”

Jimin sighed. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy.” He made a face. “My parents kept telling me about it but I wanted-” He sighed again, feeling frustrated. “I guess I wanted to show them I was grown up, that I had become a real man.”

“There are many ways to be a man,” Min said, eyebrows frowning at the waterlilies floating gently. “You don’t need to prove anything to them.”

“You say that because you don’t know what that's like,” Jimin said, looking at Min. Prince Minwoo with his faded scars and fighting skills, a man who had made friends the night of his arrival and who could build a trunk with his own hands. He didn’t know what it was to be treated like a child locked in a castle. “My parents treat me like I’m ten years old. I mean, my mom still won’t say ‘bad’ words around me, and that includes the word sex .”

Min laughed, making Jimin smile through his red flush. 

“Are you sure you need a marriage?” Min joked. “Looks like you need to have a hoe phase instead.”

“A what?”

Jimin’s cheeks grew even redder as the older explained the concept of a ‘hoe phase’ to him.

“Oh,” he whispered, embarrassed. “I think I’ve already had one of those. What?” he laughed at the sight of the surprise on Min’s face. “I might not leave home very often but we still have visitors, and we have guards and-”

“So, guards are your type?” Min teased, a smirk plastered all over his face.

“No, no, I mean- I really appreciate the work they do…I-,” he buried his face in his hands with a groan. “Oh my god. Don’t you have other things to do?”

He could hear the amusement in Min’s voice. “I’m free actually. I think I’m going to stick around. It’s getting fun.”

“Fuck off,” Jimin whined but it was all he could do to hide his own smile in his voice. Min had apologized so he couldn’t be mad anymore. And he was always happy to spend time with the older prince.

“Friends?” Min asked when Jimin finally lowered his hands.

He nodded. “Friends.”

The sun continued to gently warm up his skin as Jimin took up the reading they had been assigned to do. It was not really the type of book he usually enjoyed. The whole poetic vibe felt a bit snobby but the book soon became his only defense against the worst thing that could ever happen: Min swimming in the pond in nothing more than his underwear. 

He didn’t know which was worse, the width of his shoulder, the defined muscles on his chest or the dripping black hair, water drops rolling down his smooth skin to the curve of his crotch each time he stood up in the shallow waters. Jimin had seen a decent amount of naked men but they were nothing compared to Min in his underwear with his piercing dark eyes and casual confidence.

It was the way he moved, the way his hands always seemed in control, the way his face became even more handsome when he smiled or frowned. It was just all very unfair. How was Jimin supposed to focus on Jungkook -however adorable the prince was- when he had Min constantly walking around with such disregard for modesty?

The afternoon turned sweeter and sweeter as the sun went down and a fresh golden light bathed the pond. Min laid down on the grass to dry in the sun and Jimin tried to trick his lingering arousal by reading his book to him, although the northern prince had already finished the same volume during a sleepless night. 

A group of princes taking a walk in the gardens before dinner found them in that exact position. Once the princes had greeted them and gone away, they stood up with pink cheeks, tidying up quickly and leaving to take a shower. 

That night, Jimin couldn’t sleep. He tossed around for an hour before giving up and turning on his bedside lamp. Since he had nothing better to do, he decided to start writing that letter. This time the words flowed more easily. 

He wrote about the Tournament, leaving out the nights of crying and insisting on his good performances. He took pleasure in telling them about his alliance with Prince Minwoo, hoping they would be impressed, and perhaps healthily worried.

He was signing the letter when he realized with embarrassment that he had completely omitted to mention Prince Jungkook. He added a bottom line about their date and how similar Jungkook’s personality was to his. Perhaps a little bit too similar, but he kept that comment to himself. 

He had just sealed the letter when the sleep-talk started. It happened almost every night. Min seemed to be fighting some demons in his dreams. By now, Jimin knew it by heart. It always began with gibberish then intelligible words took shape.

“No…no…dad,” Min whined, the fear in his voice making Jimin’s blood curdle. “Haneul…Haneul…where…don’t touch her.” Then the gibberish again. 

Jimin just laid there, listening to his pleas, wondering who Haneul was and what had happened to Min’s late father until the sky turned orange with dawn and sleep overtook him. Min didn’t wake him up early but he gave him some breakfast rolls to eat on their way to the library. 

Since the weather was nice, the room had been deserted. Jimin walked between the aisles, finding some law books he thought Min could enjoy. He paused when he saw a big old one entitled Laws and Institutions of the Sea Kingdom . He flipped through it, smiling at the familiar words. Although the book was slightly outdated, it still gave a good overview of his kingdom’s judiciary and legislative systems. 

He added it to his stack of books and headed for their table. Hoseok was there already, talking to Min with a letter in his hand. “My friend said a ship is leaving in two days, the letter could reach the islands before Sunday,” he was saying in a low voice.

“Will it get to him?” Min answered in an equally low voice.

“I’m not sure but we can try our luck.”

“If he doesn’t come before the end of next week-” Min went quiet when he noticed Jimin approaching. “Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “Let’s talk about it after I finish training with Jimin.”

Hoseok greeted Jimin but he left soon after, the mysterious letter still clutched in his hand.

Jimin raised his eyebrows at the older prince. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Min shrugged. “Hoseok is just helping me contact a friend.” His eyes fell on the books Jimin was carrying. “Are they all for me?” 

Jimin nodded and got started on a very detailed explanation of each book’s content. Min listened attentively, only interrupting to ask relevant questions. Jimin had already noticed that the prince could get deeply absorbed in a subject he enjoyed. It often happened with some military stuff but he was glad to see a similar interest regarding law and ruling. Min was so smart, it was a crime his parents had limited his education to military matters. 

They studied for a while. Jimin had some less-urgent letters to answer about his princely duty. He found himself smiling, thinking that working with Min was far nicer than working in his office at home. It didn’t feel as lonely with the melody of Min’s hums and the rustle of his fingers skimming pages next to him. 

Then, Jimin had the dreadful thought that he would like to have that for the rest of his life. 

Training was another matter. The blazing sun had turned the room into a sauna of sorts to the point that Jimin was already sweating when they reached the wrestling mat. Four princes were training some mats away from them, the acrid smell of their sweat heavy in the air.

“Let’s go over what we saw yesterday,” Min said, seemingly unbothered by the heat.

Jimin managed to focus for half an hour but then Min suggested they start wrestling for real and he immediately knew he was cooked. The worst thing was that he could tell the northern prince was going easy on him but every time their skin touched, any fighting spirit he could have had completely vanished from his body. 

The warm sticky skin, the panting, the stifling heat. His head was spinning. He remembered telling Min he had no liking in fighting and indeed, he had a very different activity in mind right now. One that didn’t involve getting painfully smashed to the ground every five or so minutes. 

“Let’s try something else,” Min finally said. He was rubbing the back of his neck, in obvious dismay at Jimin’s ineptitude. “When we start, go straight for my leg and try to tip me over. You need to grab the top of my thigh, okay?”

Jimin was too out of breath to answer but he did just as he was told. He grabbed Min’s thigh and pushed, hoping to throw him off balance but the prince was resisting. 

“You’re doing good,” Min panted above him. “Bend your knees. Use the strength in your legs.”

Then all of sudden, the world was turned upside down and before he knew it, he had Min tackled to the ground. His victory cry got stuck in his lungs when he realized he was straddling the other prince’s chest. Min looked far too good under him, grinning like Jimin had just won the wrestling world cup. 

He gulped. Heat was gathering down his stomach, leaving no doubt about the sinful thoughts running through his mind. Min’s chest felt so hard between his thighs, he couldn’t stop wondering how it would feel to slowly drag his-

A loud laugh snapped him back to reality. He looked up to see the other princes leaving the room in happy chatters. He stood up so fast he almost lost his balance. It was a miracle that Min was still unaware of his pitiful state. 

“You were perfect,” Min smiled at him when he stood up. Jimin held back a groan. Min praising him was not helping his situation. “Let’s try another position.”

Jimin almost choked. “We don’t need to. You must be tired.”

“I’m alright, don’t worry,” Min answered, too engrossed in their training to notice Jimin was struggling. “I’ll lie down on my stomach and you’ll try to flip me over. Situations like that will happen tomorrow.”

And so there again Jimin found himself straddling the prince. Min’s drenched T-shirt did very little to hide the bulging muscles on his back. Jimin didn’t wonder, he didn’t let himself wonder about anything. He got to work, wrapping his arms around Min’s waist and trying to drag him on his back. 

Min had a hum of approbation but he didn’t move an inch. “Harder, Jimin. Use your hips.”

For a second, the thought that Min was saying those specific words on purpose crossed Jimin’s mind but he quickly brushed it off. Min was just trying to teach him a technique, he was the one interpreting his words like a horny teenager.

“You’re doing good,” Min added, even if it was obviously a lie.

Just as Jimin had decided to try one last time with all his strength, his crotch accidentally pressed against Min’s side. A tingly rush of electricity climbed up his stomach, causing him to let go in dread of Min having just felt his not-so-soft cock against his hip. 

“I-I can’t do it anymore,” he squeaked once he got back on his feet, face red with shame.

“You were almost there,” Min argued, looking back at him with confusion.

Jimin didn’t waste time finding an excuse. “I’m too tired. It’s too hot. I think I’m going to faint if we continue.” He fanned himself to emphasize his point, praying Min was as clueless as he looked. 

Worry quickly replaced confusion on the other prince’s face, making him suggest a break and some water but Jimin was determined to leave that room as soon as possible. He also declined Min’s offer to walk him back to their room and practically ran home as soon as he was out of his sight.

He stumbled up their tower and in their bathroom, leaving pieces of clothing on the floor of their room. What was that? Had he just gotten hard from practicing wrestling with Min? 

That was a nightmare.

He went to turn on cold water, hoping it would clear his mind but the memory of Min saying he would see Hoseok after training stopped his hand. He likely had the next hour to himself. He shook his head to get the idea out of his head but it was too late. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. How good it would feel to finally, finally-

Just for tonight , he thought. To take the edge off.

He locked the door and let hot water run down his body with a sigh of relief. Running his hands down his torso, he closed his eyes and set his imagination free. 

He pictured Min entering the bathroom, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He pictured him entering the shower behind him, naked and gorgeous like he had been yesterday at the pond.

His hands slid down his lower stomach and inner thighs, never touching where he wanted them the most. Min would be mean like that. Teasing him. Making him go crazy with want. Fingers climbing back to his chest to brush against his nipples, smiling when Jimin arched his back with a moan.

So sensitive, Jimin-ah.

He could almost feel the warmth of his breath against his neck, the way he would stand just far enough from him so Jimin would feel nothing but his hands. The hands that were getting meaner, pulling at his nipples, making him gasp. Somewhere in the haze he heard himself beg for more.

More? 

Hands closed around his dick. His whine was not loud enough to hide the sound of his first pearls falling down on the tiled floor. He didn’t need his eyes open to know they were tiny ivory pearls. Those ones would go down the drain but the others would be too big.

Look at your dick, Jimin-ah. So small and pretty in my hand.

And Min would trust forward, finally rubbing his hard length against Jimin's ass, one hand coming up to steady his waist. Rough big hands that could lift heavy swords and saw wood. Jimin whimpered at the thought of them keeping him still, of skilled fingers pumping his cock. 

Merciless, he was sure Min would be merciless. 

Begging words were falling from his lips. He could feel himself getting close. Bigger pearls were already rolling down his legs. He was just about to fall down the edge when the hand stopped, squeezing his dick hard. He sobbed.

Shh, shh, it’s okay. Hyung’s got you, Jimin-ah.

Hands returned to his swollen nipples. Sweet torture making him sniff and quiver but he knew that’s how he liked it the best. And in his head, Min knew it too.

Then again, fingers teasing his cock, pressing against his slit where hard pearls were trying to find an exit. He trembled, his abs and thighs hurting with the exertion. He pictured Min kissing his neck, biting down possessively, the praises that would fall from his lips.

You’re doing good. So good for hyung. 

The pace sped up, hand tight around his dick. Min wanted him to come hard and there was nothing Jimin could do but take it. And take it. And take it until he saw white, a rush of pleasure crashing onto him and big pink pearls clattering on the floor.

He panted, blinking away the pearls that had gathered in his eyes. They joined the dozens of other pearls at his feet.

Still bathing in the aftershock, Jimin cleaned up his body on wobbly legs. It was too soon to feel shame but he still felt a pang of sadness at the sudden comeback to reality. He was alone. No handsome roommate was here to hug him tight and whisper sweet promises in his ear. 

His hands were trembling when he crouched down to pick up the pearls. He put them all in a towel and buried it in the back of his closet where he was sure nobody would find them. 

Hundreds of pearls were already waiting there, the result of his nights of crying. He had gathered them in the dark, not daring to breathe in case it would wake Min up. Every night except that one night when Min came back from his date and found them scattered on the floor. 

He was half asleep, deeply buried in his comforter when Min came back. The sky was turning darker and the older prince insisted that Jimin went downstairs with him for dinner. Jimin was too out of it to put up any serious resistance.

Dinner passed in a haze. Jimin stared at Min more than usual, fascinated by the way he smiled when ranting about some military tactic or giving advice to their friends for the wrestling test. His little activity in the shower had visibly not toned down his feelings like he had hoped it would. 

His horniness temporarily subdued, his brain had more time to explore deeper feelings. The now almost dissolved anger and contempt he had felt before the Tournament. Curiosity from their first meeting. Awe at Min’s physical abilities. Gratitude and pride as he had watched Min study so hard in the library. Joy glittering like gold during that afternoon near the pond. 

When dessert arrived, anxiety finally burst his peaceful bubble. In a few minutes, he would go back to his bedroom with Min and he would have to act like nothing happened. Because nothing had happened, at least from Min’s point of view. 

Min, who was a very straight man, something Jimin kept forgetting about.

He eagerly volunteered when Taehyung asked if someone wanted to help him find his lost pet. They climbed down the stairs to the garden, leaving the noisy dining room behind. Outside, the air felt pleasantly fresh against Jimin’s heated skin. 

“Is it a dog or a cat?” he asked the other prince, looking under the bushes. 

“It’s a stick bug,” Taehyung answered flatly. 

Jimin threw him a stunned glance. How were they supposed to find a stick bug among all things in the green vastness of the garden? But Taehyung didn’t look stressed out, he only shrugged.

“He usually likes to hang out near the river.”

Not wanting to shatter Taehyung’s hopes, Jimin said nothing. They walked for a while in silence, going around the pond until they reached the thin river weaving between the trees.

“So,” Taehyung broke the silence with a knowing smile, “how is it going between Min and you?”

“What do you mean?” Jimin managed not to stutter but his cheeks were already heating up.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “I mean the obvious tension between you two.”

“T-there is no t-tension.” Damn it, he was convincing no one.

“Maybe not on your side,” Taehyung said with a shrug. “But there sure is tension on his side. The way he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me?” Jimin replied so quickly he cringed but his heart was fluttering at the thought of Min looking at him in any particular way. So particular people had noticed.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and he couldn’t believe Jimin didn’t know. “Like he wants to eat your ass,” he deadpanned.

Jimin covered his face to hide his giddy smile. That was both the worst and best thing anyone had ever said to him. 

“He is straight,” he groaned, his words muffed against his palms.

“No, he isn’t,” Taehyung snorted. “No straight men look at other men like that. When you enter the room, it’s like he forgets about everything else.”

Jimin bit his lip, daring to glance at the other prince. How much he wanted to cling on to that hope but at the same time, how scared he was of losing it. He looked at his feet, which wasn’t a bad idea if he wanted to avoid stepping on Taehyung’s pet.

“But you know the stuff he’s said in the past,” he frowned. “Didn’t sound very gay to me.”

“I never said he was proud of it. He might even not be aware of how he acts around you.”

Jimin watched Taehyung climb up a tree and look carefully at the lower branches. He sighed. 

“Even if he liked me and I liked him, it wouldn’t work. We’re both trying to marry another man right now.”

That seemed to sound surprising to Taehyung. “I don’t see the big deal,” he said, jumping back on the ground. “You both came here to marry a prince, right? Then, marry each other and you’ll be done.”

That did shut Jimin up.

Taehyung wasn’t wrong. Their parents surely would not mind deepening their already strong trading alliance. The North Queen had the reputation of putting money before anything else. As for his parents, well nothing screamed I’m an adult now and I want to make my own decisions more than coming back home with the prince he had chosen instead of Jungkook. 

“Look at that,” Taehyung exclaimed. He was pointing at a big yellow wildflower on top of which a greenish sticky bug was resting. “See, those who are meant to be always end up finding each other.”

Jimin pondered on their conversation all night and in the morning, he was ready. He was going to confess today. It was certainly the wrong place and time but he suddenly couldn’t wait any more day. He had to know now if his feelings were reciprocated. 

The wrestling test was scheduled in the afternoon so they spent their morning lying in bed. Min was reading next to Jimin because his bed got the most sunlight but the prince couldn’t help wondering if it was all an excuse to be close to him. He turned the pages of Jungkook’s book mindlessly, too nervous to focus on the written words. 

The whole three books they had to read were telling the love story of a mermaid and a pirate and to be honest, he found the depiction of the merpeople quite cliché.  His ancestors were known to be cunning and deadly but the author had managed to make the mermaid sound helpless and naive.

“Do you think Prince Jungkook identifies more with the pirate or the mermaid?” he asked.

Min turned his head to the side, humming. Their faces were so close that Jimin could see his eyelashes turning golden in the sunlight. “The mermaid, for sure. What about you?”

Jimin pouted, hesitating. “I would like to say the mermaid but I can’t take her seriously. She sees the guy once and she immediately falls in love with him? Seriously.”

Min smiled softly, one of Jimin’s favorite looks on him. He wished he could paint this moment, Min bathing happily in the sun like a cat, his eyes almost closed in a smile, a curly lock of hair falling handsomely on his forehead. 

“I can’t take her seriously either,” he admitted. “She doesn’t wear enough pearls.”

Jimin’s cheek turned red at the implication that Min was basing his expectations of what a mermaid looked like on Jimin. Having mermaid blood hadn’t always been something Jimin had felt valued for, especially when he travelled outside his kingdom where people acted as if his skin was cursed, but Min always made it sound like it was some beautiful detail about him, like it was something to treasure.

He didn’t flinch when a hand brushed against his hair. Min’s fingers lingered on the pearls adoring his white locks and Jimin felt glad for the hour he had spent putting them on this morning. 

Min’s dark eyes looked stunning, reflecting the pearls’ white glow. “Where do you find all those pearls,” he whispered. “The sea must be overflowing with them.”

The sea was in fact not overflowing with pearls but Jimin was, in more ways than one. He blushed at the thought, feeling his body going pliant against Min’s hand. 

If he wanted to confess, he had to do it now. 

He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Min was looking at him now, waiting to hear whatever he had to say but it was too difficult. The fear of rejection was paralyzing. So he did the only thing he felt he could do. 

He leaned forwards and pressed his lips against Min’s.

For a few seconds, Min stayed completely still. Frozen. Then, Jimin just had the time to taste the sweetness of his lips before he jerked away. The shock in his eyes pierced Jimin’s heart like a poisonous spear, snatching his breath away. 

Min stumbled to his feet, taking a few steps back without tearing his gaze away from Jimin. He looked so afraid and disoriented that it hurt to watch but when Jimin tried to talk, he found himself mute again.

“I can’t. I'm sorry.” 

That's all Min said before storming out of the room.

Chapter Text

Yoongi had once been fourteen sitting in front of a fireplace.

Salty tears drying on the cheeks of the toddler sleeping in his arms. Muffled cries coming from his father’s bedroom. His mother was dead. She was never coming back. 

Yoongi’s arms were sore from holding his heavy sword at training all day but he couldn’t let go of his sister, not when she had just fallen asleep. As he had stared at the silver moon outside, Yoongi had discovered a new type of pain. 

The one that came with love.

The pain of loving his mother’s laugh and never being able to ever hear it again. The pain of loving his father and not having the words to comfort him. The pain of cradling his sister against his chest despite the exhaustion and hoping her little heart couldn’t shatter between his fingers.

Ten years later, standing in the stuffy training room of a foreign King, he felt that same pain again. He immediately knew what it was because it wasn’t something you ever forgot. 

The referee said something about greeting each other so they both gave a bow. Jimin’s hair was damp with sweat and Yoongi was not better. Out of his six previous matches, he had only won two, which was a miracle given how out of it he felt. And from what he had seen, Jimin had barely done better.

At some point, he understood the match had begun but neither of them moved. Since Jimin was avoiding his eyes like he had done all day, he couldn’t tell what he expected him to do. Should he let Jimin win or make sure to win quickly and end their misery?

Confused whispers rustled around them. They needed to do something quickly. 

Seeing that Jimin was still unmoving on the other side of the mat, Yoongi took things into his own hands. He surged forwards, that familiar searing pain in his heart. Jimin put up no resistance. He let himself be pinned to the ground with nothing more than a soft whimper.

There was a moment when cheers were heard but they sounded muffled by a glass bubble around them. Yoongi looked at Jimin, the prince's body small and pliant in his arms, and Jimin finally met his eyes. He thought he would never forgive himself for putting so much pain in the prince’s beautiful eyes.

Then he watched as a tear fell from Jimin’s left eye. But it wasn’t a tear. He extended his hand, seizing the white drop that had dropped down on the mat and watched as the light painted blue hues on its surface. 

A pearl.

He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by strong hands pulling him back. The noisy room came back crashing onto him, making him dizzy as someone led him to a chair where he collapsed, the pearl still trapped in his closed fist.

Yoongi had long made peace with the fact that love came with unavoidable pain but he had never thought he would ever be the one giving pain. Never thought someone would love him enough to be hurt by him. And the worst perhaps was that he had known Jimin and him were walking a dangerous path, known there was no world where it could end well and still he hadn’t stopped before it was too late.

When Jimin had kissed him it was too late. Love had entangled them together with its hundreds of strings and pain was already painting them all iron red. 

“Min! Min! Min!...Yoongi!”

His eyes focused at the sound of his real name. Seokjin was shaking his shoulders, looking worried. “You still have two matches,” he said. “Get up.”

Afterwards he wouldn’t remember winning those two matches, he would only remember leaving the training room and wandering around the palace. He couldn’t go back to their room so he stumbled around until he found a very dark room and sat down on the ground, hugging his legs against his chest.

His first mistake had been apologizing at the pond. He should have kept away from Jimin after telling him they shouldn't be friends. He had been weak. He had been selfish. And now, he had a hundred more things to apologize for.

The little pearl rolled inside his fist. The precious ball felt wrong against his skin, as if he had stolen and in a way he had. The other pearls too, he should all give them back.

He spent hours in the dark trying to think about everything, everything except the kiss because if he did he knew his resolve would crumble and he would be weak again. He guessed he’d never get over it. He would be eighty feeling old and tired sitting on a porch and he would smile thinking he had once flown so close to the sun but it would still hurt in a region of his heart, the one that had burned so good when Jimin’s lips had touched his. 

At some point, he was pulled out of his despair by the memory that he had a meeting with Jungkook planned in the late afternoon. He stood up, feeling sore and rusty. Even the declining daylight hurt his eyes as he made his way outside to the stable. 

He had first found Jungkook in the stable on Sunday. That’s where they had talked about sending a letter to Prince Namjoon. Thanks to Hoseok’s friend working on a merchant ship, that letter was hopefully already on its way to the Indigo Islands. Convincing Hoseok had not been difficult since the prince had realized he saw Jungkook more as a little brother than a potential husband.

Jungkook was brushing his horse when he arrived. He didn’t ask about the letter. He asked about Yoongi’s health.

“I’m alright,” Yoongi forced himself to smile.

“I heard you were sick during the competition this morning,” Jungkook insisted. He had his hands on his hips like a mother scolding a child.

Yoongi’s smile softened. “I’m feeling better now. I was just having some issues with-” He sighed. He didn’t want to talk about it.

Jungkook must have guessed because he shifted the conversation towards the letter and then some drawings he was working on lately. Yoongi was happy just listening as he gently petted the horse’s forehead. 

“How did you know you were in love with Namjoon?” he asked after, when they were sitting against the wall of the stall. 

Jungkook shrugged. “I don’t know. I only remember thinking life would be so sweet if I could speak to him everyday. He wouldn’t need to do anything special, you know, we could just drink our coffees in the morning and talk about the weather.”

And Yoongi’s throat tightened at the very image of the domestic life Jimin and him would never share. 

He skipped dinner but he couldn’t avoid Jimin much longer. They bumped into each other at their bathroom door. Jimin was looking soft in his pajamas, the steam from his shower wrapping around Yoongi.

“That’s yours,” Yoongi said before the prince could bypass him.

Jimin stopped to look down at the pearl in Yoongi’s palm. His face was inscrutable.

“The others too,” Yoongi hurried to add, his voice turning somewhat high-pitched. He opened his closet and handed the scarf full of pearls to Jimin. Feeling their weight in his hands, he still couldn’t believe they were Jimin’s tears. The prince was truly a magical being. How beautiful to be able to turn sadness into such gorgeous jewels. 

But Jimin made no gesture to take his pearls back. He stared blankly at them. His voice sounded empty when he spoke. “Keep them.” He had a curt laugh. “I’m sure Haneul will like them anyway.”

That sent Yoongi’s head spinning. His little sister’s name in Jimin’s mouth sounded like a word coming from another world. A world where Jimin and him shouldn’t even have a simple conversation.

“How do you know about her?” He was pretty sure he was supposed to deny knowing anyone named Haneul but the shock didn’t let him. 

“You talk about her in your sleep,” Jimin answered matter of fact. “Who is she? Your girlfriend?”

There was anger in his voice and pain and Yoongi wished more than ever that he could tell him the truth. End this circus once and for all. Instead, he stammered. 

“She’s not-” he should lie again, say she was his cousin, his friend, but he couldn’t anymore. “She isn’t my girlfriend. Just my, uhm…it’s complicated.”

“It appears so,” Jimin said sharply before turning his back to him. 

Yoongi left the pearls on Jimin’s desk in case the prince wanted to take them back later. When he came back from his shower, the pearls were still there and the bedroom was plunged into darkness. 

The next day, Jimin’s anger seemed to have morphed into some sort of upset embarrassment. They still didn’t talk. Didn’t even look at each other. It was ridiculous because Yoongi was more aware than ever of Jimin’s presence everywhere he went.

He wrote his book review pretending his heart didn’t sting each time he wrote the word mermaid on paper. He ate lunch pretending he couldn’t see Jimin and Taehyung chatting from across the room. He spent his whole day pretending but sleep didn’t offer such a luxury.

He woke up in the middle of the night again and again, a ghostly warmth lingering on his lips, a vague memory of a dream that must have been too sweet. 

Jimin’s bedside lamp was on too. 

By morning, he found some energy back repeating to himself that even that would pass. If everything went according to plan, he would be gone in a little more than a week. Home two days later, where he would have all the time to forget. Far away from here, with his family and old friends surrounding him, he was sure he could forget. 

But did he want to? 

He wished he did but right now he couldn’t deny that the thought of forgetting Jimin’s smile, the sound of his giggles, the glimmering of the pearls in his hair, forgetting the way his heart sang when the prince walked into a room, terrified him. 

What if he left his heart in Jimin’s hands on his way home, what if he never got it back?

What if he didn’t want to get it back?

He climbed down the stairs to the stable. The second physical test of the week was taking place today. He had almost forgotten about it but now he remembered and it wasn’t good. Of all the things in the world, it had to be orienteering. 

His dread only grew when he arrived in the stable and the intendant gave them a map before commanding them to mount their horses. 

“I’m pretty sure Hoseok is going to get lost,” Seokjin joked as they made their way out of the palace.

“I’m more afraid of the bugs we’ll meet in the forest,” Hoseok pulled a face.

“I don’t know why we even bother. We all know Min is going to win anyway.”

Yoongi realized after a while that his friends had gone quiet and were waiting for him to answer. He had been too focused on Jimin riding with Taehyung at the head of the group to follow the conversation. 

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Alright, what happened? Did you fight with Jimin?”

“No,” Yoongi said, feeling awkward. “Not really.”

He was sure he looked miserable judging by the look of pity in the two princes’ eyes. 

“I don’t see him getting mad at you about anything,” Hoseok scoffed. “He looks at you like you’re a god or something.”

Seokjin said nothing at first but his eyes were telling that he had more or less put the pieces together. Because Hoseok was right about one thing, there weren’t plenty of things Jimin could be mad at Yoongi for. 

“Jimin does care a lot about you,” the handsome prince said, looking pained. 

The forest where they had to pass the orienteering test looked more like a jungle. The trees had thick trunks and vines hanging from their branches and the ground was covered in big roots and brambles.

After the intendant briefly explained that they were to reach the red cross on their map before nighttime, they dismounted and a starting gun was fired, causing the princes to launch themselves into the forest. Yoongi didn’t have a choice but to follow after them.

To say Yoongi was bad at reading a map was an understatement. He was terrible at it.

For an hour, things went well. Or at least, not too badly. 

Ignoring the running princes around him, he carefully walked into the forest and headed for the red cross. But things on site looked different from how they did on the map. The ground was not flat but a chaotic mix of uphill slopes and big hollows. As a result, he quickly got confused with the distances and had to turn around several times.

The heat was also not helping. Deep into the trees, the air was hot and moist. So much so that he wandered off track for a while in search of a river or even a small puddle. That was his first mistake because after that, he wasn’t sure anymore where he stood on the map and he kept walking ahead with the bad feeling that he was moving away from the red cross. 

At midday, he found some edible berries to calm his hunger before resuming walking. The woods were peaceful around him. It had been hours since he had last heard another contestant’s voice but he doubted it was a good sign. 

He had sat down on a stump to study the map again when he heard a cry. He had no doubt about its origin. 

Jimin . 

Jumping on his feet, he started running towards the sound. He called the prince’s name but got no answer. Could there be predators in those woods? Some bobcats or even a tiger? He had just picked a long stick for defense when he fell.

The drop was short but the impact was harsh. His ankle twisted painfully as he collapsed at  the bottom of a hole he hadn’t seen in the ground. Dark roots were sticking out from the earth around him, successfully concealing him from anyone walking by. 

He stood up wincing in pain and tried to climb out of the hole by holding into the roots but they broke in his hands. He called for help, trying to jump and grab a vine that was lazily hanging at the edge of the hole above him. 

At first, he saw the shoes. And then, curious brown eyes looking back at him. 

“Jimin,” he whispered, relief making his voice shake when he recognized the silver prince. 

“Are you hurt?” Jimin’s voice was jerky, as if he had been running.

“No, I’m fine. I just need that vine at your feet so I can climb up.”

Jimin threw the vine towards him and stepped aside. Yoongi’s ankle was still painful but he managed to drag himself up the slippery wall to the surface. He panted, feeling dizzy with thirst and wiped his dirty hands on his pants.

“Are you alright?” he asked Jimin, his eyes searching the prince’s body for injuries and only finding a red swelling on his cheekbone. “What happened? I heard you scream.”

He stepped forwards without thinking, holding his hand to Jimin’s cheek but the prince flinched and moved away from him. “Nothing,” he said. “I guess Jongsu wanted me out of the competition.”

It took Yoongi a few seconds to remember which one was Prince Jongsu. He had barely spoken to him but he was pretty sure Jongsu was that buff guy with a constant scowl on his face. 

“He hit you?” he almost growled, feeling his blood boil. 

Jimin touched his red cheek, looking embarrassed. “He threw a punch and I ran away. He didn’t follow me but,” he looked at the ground around them, “I lost my map and I can’t find it.”

Yoongi suggested they walk back to where Jimin had been attacked to look for the map and Jimin reluctantly agreed. They didn’t talk much on the way there and found nothing apart from a handful of white pearls that had fallen from Jimin’s hair. Yoongi put them in his pocket since Jimin had no place to keep them.

“Take mine,” Yoongi finally sighed, handing Jimin his map and collapsing on the mossy ground. 

Jimin shook his head. “It’s my fault that I lost mine. Just go to the red cross and tell them to pick me up here.”

“I’m not leaving you alone with that lunatic roaming around,” Yoongi said. “Let’s finish together.” And if they came across that Prince Jongsu, he was going to teach him what a real punch felt like.

“You don’t have to,” Jimin said, sitting down but not looking at him. “I know you don’t want to be around me.”

“It’s not-” Yoongi began because he was not the one avoiding Jimin but then he stopped, realizing that maybe he was. It was him who had run away after the kiss and then after the wrestling test and then hid away in the library yesterday. Jimin had not tried to approach him but he was perhaps too embarrassed, or wanted to give him some space. 

“And I get it,” Jimin added. “I was out of line. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you.”

He was curling himself up, as if bracing for impact.

“I’m not mad at you, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi sighed. “I should have told you Wednesday instead of running away but you and me, it’s not possible. I can’t, for a lot of reasons I wish I could tell you.”

“It’s not you, it’s me,” Jimin chuckled with a bittersweet smile. 

“I know how it sounds but it’s the truth. Jimin, you’re so beautiful an-”

“Please don’t say that,” Jimin interrupted quietly, his hand picking at the moss. 

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck. Jimin was right, he shouldn’t say stuff like that but it was like he couldn't help it. He needed Jimin to know that he was everything he had ever dreamed of. It felt wrong to go home and leave Jimin here thinking Yoongi didn’t want him when he had been dying thinking about how wonderful of a being the prince was. 

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay. I’ll go with you if you want.”

They exchanged a shy smile and tried to ignore the lingering awkwardness as they set to work. Jimin assured Yoongi he hadn’t been as lost as he had thought and was able to point on the map the place where he had met Jongsu. They were still far away from the red cross but there was a chance they could still reach it before nighttime so they quickly set off.

Like everything in Yoongi’s life, walking was nicer with Jimin by his side. They talked little since their throats were painfully dry but it settled Yoongi to know that the prince was safe and sound next to him. 

Around mid-afternoon, they found a small pool in a clearing and almost collapsed in it. The water was so blue it hurt their eyes and it felt deliciously cold between Yoongi’s fingers. 

“Do you think it’s safe to drink,” Jimin asked, his voice a little hoarse.

Yoongi took a sip and nodded. “I think it’s drinkable.”

Drinking seemed to revive them. Jimin let himself fall to the ground with a happy giggle after splashing his face with fresh water. “What I wouldn’t do for a quick swim right now,” he sighed. Yoongi too was looking at the pool with longing but they both knew the clock was ticking so they kept going. 

The ground was steep, the light was decreasing and it’s only after an hour of walking that they realized something was wrong. “We should have reached the cross by now,” Jimin huffed. “I don’t understand.”

Looking around them, they could only see trees and even more trees. An endless jungle everywhere they looked. 

They were about to turn around when they heard heavy breathing on their right. Yoongi pulled Jimin with him behind a tree and they waited until a figure came out of the greenery. 

It was Jongsu wheezing his way up the hill and looking at least as lost as them. He stopped and sniffed the air like some predator on a hunt. Then, he muttered something and turned around, disappearing quickly behind the trees.

Jimin sighed with relief, his body going slack against Yoongi. The older man realized then that he had an arm firmly wrapped around his waist, his fingers sinking in the softness of his stomach. 

“I hope he gets lost for good,” Jimin muttered and Yoongi could swear his lips brushed against his neck.  

“Do you want me to beat him up?” he asked, making Jimin giggle.

“I’ll think about it,” he said with a sly smile and Yoongi didn’t know how he managed not to kiss him silly. 

They stayed vigilant on their way down the hill but the forest had again fallen silent, no contestants were in sight. When they reached the pool, the sky was already a dark orange. Yoongi’s ankle was throbbing and Jimin was too exhausted to continue so they agreed they would wait here to be rescued. 

“We’re going to go down the rankings,” Jimin said from where he was lying down on the ground, eyes closed. “First wrestling, now this.”

Yoongi found a smooth pebble in the pool and gave in to Jimin so he could press the cold stone against his cheekbone and reduce the swelling. “You didn’t do bad in wrestling,” he replied. He had seen a few of Jimin’s matches before their match and had been calm enough to see he was handling it well. “Flipping that guy over was impressive.”

“You saw that?” Jimin opened his eyes with a proud grin. “I used my legs like you told me.”

For a second, their eyes met and they didn’t look away. If Yoongi had thought there was some tension between them before, it was now so thick he swore he could see it burning in the air. When he managed to tear his stare away from Jimin, he pretended to be busy making the fire.

Unsurprisingly, the temperatures dropped as soon as the sun disappeared. They huddled up together next to the fire. Yoongi had gathered some of the berries he had eaten earlier but the sweet fruits barely soothe their hungry stomachs. 

“Are you sure they will see our fire?” Jimin asked in a whisper.

“Of course, they’ll find us soon,” Yoongi whispered back even though he too was starting to get anxious. 

They must have drifted off quickly after that because a guard found them later in the same spot, lying down next to the dying ember of their fire. Yoongi was glad it was a guard and not some official from the Tournament because as soon as he heard noises, Jimin snuggled closer, burying his face in the crook of his neck. 

“He hurt his foot,” he still lied to the few guards escorting them to their horses because he was sure him carrying Jimin looked nothing innocent. It was not really his fault. Jimin’s sleepy self was just very cuddly and whiny and also couldn’t sit straight on a horse.

Riding with Jimin sleeping against his chest, he quickly understood that the men were leading them back to the palace, not to wherever the red cross was.

“You don’t need worry, your Highness,” one of them told him. “Only four of you reached the meeting point in time.”

Yoongi killed time by chatting with them for a bit. He realized how much he had missed the simple talk of guards when he found himself joking with the men like he used to. Of course, he had changed. He could feel it in the way he talked and thought about the world. He would perhaps stay a common guard forever but a part of him would stay in this other world, with Jimin and all he had learned from him. 

He was glad to see their friends waiting for them in front of the stable. He asked the three princes to bring Jimin to their room and find some ice for his cheek before the guards brought him to Jungkook. 

The golden prince was anxiously pacing his balcony when the guards opened the door to his chambers and let Yoongi in.

“Hyung!” he threw himself at the older man. “Are you and Jimin hyung alright?”

Yoongi nodded, reassuring him that they were just hungry and tired before telling him about Prince Jongsu attacking Jimin. He tried to control his voice but he couldn’t prevent it from vibrating with anger as he repeated the facts.

“I’ll make sure to dismiss him tomorrow,” Jungkook said, looking upset. “I’ll talk to my parents in the morning, I promise.”

He sent Yoongi to bed with a hug and a sandwich. Yoongi kept half of it for Jimin but when he arrived home, the prince was fast asleep in his bed.

“We put ice and some soothing cream on his bruise,” Taehyung said as he left the room with Hoseok and Seokjin. “Do you have any injuries?”

“No,” Yoongi groaned. “It looks like Jongsu only enjoys hitting those weaker than him.”

“I’m sure Jungkook will kick him out,” Hoseok gently squeezed his shoulder.

“He said he would. How did it go for you?”

“Seokjin hyung arrived first,” Hoseok smiled, patting the handsome prince’s back. “Then Taehyung and I shortly after. We were alone for a long time until someone else arrived, it was that red-haired guy from the south.”

“That’s great news,” Yoongi congratulated them with a tired smile. “You must be weary, you should go to sleep. Thank you so much for taking care of Jimin.”

“Of course,” Seokjin said. “We’re going to the library at ten tomorrow, you two should join if you still haven’t finished your review.”

Yoongi promised he would come and waved them goodbye. He took the best cold shower of his life, rubbing the dirt off his skin and the sweat off his hair. Jimin was whimpering in his sleep when he re-entered the bedroom so he spent some time running his fingers through his white hair until he fell back into a peaceful sleep. 

The next day, they were woken up by strong knocks on the door. Jimin opened the door half-asleep to royal guards asking him to follow them to the throne room. He gave Yoongi a worried look but Yoongi told him not to worry, that it must be about Jongsu’s punishment.

Despite his reassuring words, Yoongi was on edge all morning. In the library, he kept pacing back and forth under the glass roof, earning a lot of annoyed glare from princes he didn’t care about. Seokjin had just managed to make him sit down and finalize his review when Jungkook brought Jimin back to them.

“Everything went fine,” Jungkook said with a smile. “My parents asked Jongsu to be gone  before tonight’s ball.”

They all looked at Jimin who looked pissed, arms crossed over his chest. A wave of anger crashed upon Yoongi at the idea that perhaps Jongsu had said some hurtful things to him, all for Jungkook to add with a chuckle.

“Uhm…Jimin hyung didn’t enjoy Jongsu saying it was Min hyung who hit him.”

“That jackass really thought I wouldn’t defend you,” Jimin scowled, glaring at Yoongi. 

Jungkook laughed. “He told my father he was kidding himself if he thought hyung could hurt him.”

Yoongi pretended he had dropped his pen under the table to hide his blushing cheeks. He was so glad Jimin felt safe with him despite the whole Yun Minwoo reputation, that after all he had seen Min Yoongi under the ugly mask.

Seokjin suggested that Jungkook join them and the golden prince only pretended to decline a few times before running back to his chambers to grab his book with a huge grin. 

“I’m not allowed to see any suitors outside of dates,” he said after he came back and sat down with them. “But since you’re all in the library, they can’t say I’m playing favorites.”

With the six of them working and chatting, the day passed happily. Most of them were excited about the ball that would be given tonight as a midway celebration of the Tournament. Jungkook revealed it would take place in the garden and that fire breathers and dancers would be performing. Yoongi listened distractedly, focusing on the law book he was reading. 

Among all this activity, Jimin sat far away from Yoongi but their eyes kept meeting. It was like they couldn’t help it. They were two magnets orbiting around each other and no matter how much they fought, how much they tried to keep their distances, their eyes always found each other. 

Jimin gave him his apple pie. Yoongi fetched some ice for his bruising cheekbone. Their hands brushed against each other as they reached for a piece of paper. They glanced at each other with a knowing smile when Seokjin told a joke. It was just small details but it had always been, small things weaving a web all around them. Trapping them. Again and again.

Back in their bedroom, Yoongi put on one of the many black suits he had in his closet. The shirt was sheer, leaving little to the imagination when the jacket was open. He was putting some golden jewelry on when Jimin went to him with a pout and two blouses in his hand. 

“Do you like the blue or the pink one better?” 

Yoongi looked at the pearly fabric reflecting light and illuminating Jimin’s pretty face. The color of the blouses was the last thing on his mind.

“The blue one,” he cleared his throat, tearing his eyes from Jimin’s shining lips. “I like the silver buttons.”

Jimin hummed happily and Yoongi wanted to die at how domestic they both sounded. 

The ball was as magnificent as Jungkook had predicted. Golden lanterns were hanging from the trees, lighting up the garden as if it were an enchanted forest. The King and the Queen were sitting on wooden thrones, enjoying the party with satisfied smiles on their faces. 

Yoongi danced a few times with Jungkook since the young prince practically begged him to save him from dancing with the few princes he disliked. Jimin waved at them from the side with a shy smile. Yoongi wished they could dance together but it was a line he knew they shouldn’t cross.

It was around midnight when he started worrying. He hadn’t seen Jimin for what felt like a long time and he couldn’t find him among the guests. He asked around until he found a guilty looking Taehyung near the dessert buffet.

“He went to the pond,” the prince winced. “I’m sorry, I thought he knew.”

“Knew about what?” Yoongi almost choked on air. 

He was so panicked at the idea of Jimin somehow discovering his real identity that he didn’t expect it when Taehyung answered. “About Prince Namjoon.”

So, Hoseok had spilled the beans. He guessed it was predictable with how close he had gotten to his roommate. Yoongi thanked Taehyung and practically ran to the pond. 

Jimin was standing at the edge of it, in deep contemplation of the reflection of the moon on its surface. He startled when Yoongi called his name.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you approaching,” his voice was airy.

“Taehyung told you.” It wasn’t a question.

Jimin nodded, still not meeting Yoongi’s eyes. “He thought I knew. He was sure you’d told me.” He laughed but it sounded wrong, self-deprecating. 

But how could Yoongi have told him he was helping Jungkook marry another man? That he was actively ruining his chances in the Tournament? When talking about it with Hoseok he had only thought about Jungkook and how he didn’t deserve the pain of an arranged marriage but now all he could see was him betraying Jimin’s thrust. 

“I don’t even know why I’m upset,” Jimin puffed, looking frustrated with himself. “It’s actually very nice of you to do that for him.”

He looked up at Yoongi and the older man could see the praise was genuine. But something else was there, something stubborn. 

“I don’t even want to marry him,” Jimin continued. “I’m just upset everyone knew but me.”

“Only Hoseok knew. We needed a ship so I asked him. He must have told Taehyung recently but I made him swear to tell no one. Nobody else knows.”

“You didn’t tell me because you thought I would get mad?” Jimin asked, his voice turning soft in the fresh evening air.

“Yes, partly,” Yoongi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know how much the Tournament means to you. You worked hard.”

“Why else? You said partly.”

“Oh, that.” Yoongi looked away. The other reason was deeply buried in his chest and he had no plan to take it out. He was somewhat ashamed. Maybe also afraid he would realize if he looked at it for too long how big of a reason it was not to tell Jimin. 

Panic therefore rose abruptly in his throat when Jimin added. “I think I know what it is. The other reason you didn’t tell me.” 

The prince had now fully turned to him, making Yoongi fully aware of how close they were standing to each other. There was suddenly a glint in Jimin’s eyes and Yoongi didn’t know if he was scared or completely entranced.

Jimin’s hand travelled to the collar of his sheer shirt, playing with the top button. “Maybe you were scared I would think you were trying to prevent me from marrying Jungkook. So you could have me all to yourself.”

Yoongi’s breath hitched. It had crossed his mind indeed.

“Which doesn't make sense, right?” Jimin shook his head, bitterness filling his eyes like dark waters. “Because if you wanted me you’d have me already.”

“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi’s voice sounded hurt. There it was, the web trapping them together and this time he was too weak to run away. “You know I can’t.”

“Why?”

Jimin was asking simply, his sweet voice urging Yoongi to yield. 

“Why, hyung? Tell me. Please. Why?”

“I can’t-” Yoongi’s head was spinning and it took him a few seconds to realize it was because he was fighting his whole being not to admit everything. Jimin’s voice was like a truth serum poisoning his veins. 

And the poison tasted so good.

“Why?”

“Jimi-”

“Why, hyung?”

He did it thinking it would make Jimin go quiet. He kissed him. Quickly, just a peck. But then he couldn’t stop because Jimin went pliant in his arms and moaned so prettily, like he had been waiting for it forever. That’s when Yoongi lost his mind. He pressed the prince against a tree and started devouring him.

“Stop,” he panted. “Stop asking questions.” 

Jimin tasted sweet on his tongue. His lips were divine, so plump and warm as he nipped at them teasingly. The prince whined. He stretched his neck, enticing Yoongi to kiss the beautiful silver patch below his jaw.

“I won’t-” Jimin could barely talk with how harsh his breathing was. “I won’t ask questions. Just…just keep kissing me.”

Yoongi had no intention of stopping. His teeth grazed the skin under Jimin’s ear, making him squirm in his arms but his hands were holding him still and it drove him crazy how easily they engulfed Jimin’s waist. 

He let Jimin’s tongue explore the heat of his mouth. The prince was a skilled kisser. He knew how to tick Yoongi off, whining and biting and then acting all sweet and submissive, offering him his neck. 

“You want me to fuck you so bad,” Yoongi growled. 

He went still for a second, cursing himself for running his mouth as if they were in some dirty inn but Jimin only moaned louder.

“Yes, yes,” he sang,” please, yes.”

“You want me to fuck you?” Yoongi asked seriously, grabbing Jimin’s chin so he could look him in the eyes. 

Jimin nodded, wide eyes glazed with lust, tongue coming out to lap at Yoongi’s thumb. “Yes, please.”

“Not here,” Yoongi said, looking at the garden. He could hear people celebrating all around them, some already wandering between the trees with tipsy laughters. 

“Our bedroom,” Jimin suggested. He looked like he had sobered up a little but his gaze was still burning and Yoongi thought it was what fire on water must look like. 

Yoongi kissed him one more time before taking his hand and pulling him towards the palace. Jimin let himself be dragged away with a happy giggle.