Work Text:
When Yeosang wakes on the morning of his birthday, it's to the sound of rumbling thunder that accompanies summer rain.
The weather does not bode well for the festivities that are planned for the evening, but Yeosang hopes that the storm will pass quickly, so that he can enjoy at least part of his day without having to be cooped up inside the entire time. It would be nice to spend some time out in the gardens or even go for a ride on his horse around the palace grounds before getting swept up in party preparations, but perhaps he can have breakfast in his chambers with his closest friends instead. He just wants to do something that feels like his own decision on the one day of the year his parents allow him to act like his own person, and not just an extension of themselves or a reflection of the kingdom.
The light filtering into his room through the slit in the curtains is still cool and a little dim, so Yeosang knows that he still has some time before he really needs to be awake. He rolls around in bed, trying to find a comfortable position so that he can doze off again for a while, even though he knows he won't be able to fully fall back asleep.
He finally gives up after a few fruitless minutes of tossing and turning. Heaving himself into a sitting position, he rubs his eyes and stretches. His bedroom is quiet and the hallway outside of his room is silent, too. It must really be early if not even the sound of the morning staff preparing for the day can be heard.
It's safe enough for Yeosang to indulge in his secret, then.
He slides out of bed and lowers himself to the floor so that he can reach under the piece of furniture. He lifts a loose stone in the floor and grabs a bundle of letters, dusting them off before he returns to his bed with them.
Every envelope is the same: crisp and off-white, with his name written in neat capital letters on the front. They bear no other adornment or indication of who may have written the letter, but Yeosang always knows.
A letter comes every week, though sometimes there are delays when the man writing them is traveling to lands far from his home. Every delivery is a spot of sunshine in his week, each letter a reminder that there is someone who sees him and loves him for who he really is and not for what others want him to be.
No letter has come this week, though. It hurts a little, but Yeosang has to remind himself that the world does not revolve around him or his birthday. He's certain that he hasn't been forgotten, but perhaps there are more immediate matters that must be attended to first before a letter can be written and sent his way.
No matter. He has plenty of other letters to read when his mood falls like this, and he grabs the most recent one from the stack and removes it from the envelope to read.
My Love,
Now that summer has arrived, I long for you to be with me here on the southern coast even more. I spend my free time imagining the way that the sun would kiss your skin and the breeze would tousle your hair. The beauty of the ocean would pale in comparison to your shy smile and the way your eyes shine when you gaze at me. I would buy you all of the sweets you desire and bring every bite to your lips so that you would never have to lift a hand. I long to kiss the sweetness of fresh fruit off of your lips. But there is nothing I desire more than to take you away from that palace, if only for a few days, so that you may feel like you can breathe freely again.
I have not forgotten that your birthday is soon. I am not sure if I will be able to attend your party. You know that I will not promise you something that I cannot fulfill. Your disappointment would break my heart. But if I cannot see you, please do not think that I am not thinking of you and missing you. I think there is nothing I do more these days than think of you.
I find you in everything these days. Yesterday, the sky was the same shade of pink as your cheeks when I give you more kisses than you know how to handle. On one of my trips, I came across a gem that was the same beautiful shade as your eyes. And, forgive me my love, but I even thought of you when eating dumplings the other day.
I will write to you again before your birthday so that you may be reminded of my love for you, even if we cannot see each other.
Faithfully yours,
San
Yeosang smiles down at the letter. San has always been so earnest, and he can feel the other man's sincerity through his words alone. Even if he doesn't see San today—or any time soon—at least he knows that San is thinking of him somewhere.
When he hears the first footfalls outside of his bedroom door, he knows that it's time to put his letters away and brace himself for the entrance of his staff. He carefully ties the ribbon around his stack of letters and places the bundle back in its hiding spot underneath his bed—and just in time, too.
"Good morning to His Royal Radiance, Prince Yeosang," a voice ringing out on the other side of his bedroom door is Yeosang's only warning before someone barges in.
Yeosang stands quickly and watches as his best friend and the head of his personal staff, Wooyoung, enters in a flourish. He huffs and rolls his eyes. "The more words you add to my title, the less sincere you sound."
"That's the point, Your Majesty." Wooyoung smirks. He's carrying a large bundle of fabric and Yeosang knows that he's going to be forced into all of it. "Someone around here needs to keep you humble."
"I'm well aware of my place, but thank you," Yeosang sighs. The smirk falls from Wooyoung's face and he gently shuts the door with his foot before placing the pile of fabric on the bed.
"Are you not excited about today?" Wooyoung asks as he comes to stand next to Yeosang. "The day is all about you and I have to say, the royal staff has planned quite the celebration for tonight."
"I will admit it is a little hard to feel excited." Yeosang presses his lips together. "I will be paraded around like one of my mother's expensive ponies, then I will be stuck talking to strangers who will most certainly be potential suitors throughout dinner. Every year is the same."
"Suitors," Wooyoung echoes. Yeosang can see the thought forming in his mind before he even opens his mouth to speak again. "Does that mean that the only man you've ever had eyes for will be here, too?"
Yeosang shakes his head. "I don't think so," he sighs again. "My parents do not consider him to be…a suitable match."
Wooyoung frowns. "Why not?"
"He's not noble enough," Yeosang says. "Nevermind the fact that my marriage isn't the one that matters when my sister will be the one to ascend the throne. Marrying someone so far beneath me will tarnish the crown."
"Surely your parents don't believe that," Wooyoung says, but his voice lacks conviction. Still, he continues. "The Choi family may not be noble, but they have certainly become an asset to their kingdom in a short time. They will only continue to grow stronger under San's guidance, I'm sure."
Yeosang thinks of all the letters San has sent him over the years and the tales he's told about his travels to distant lands and across the sea. He has tried to convince his parents time and again that San's knowledge of the land, his ability to navigate the ocean, and his tenacity would make him invaluable, but they refuse to see beyond his status. And selfishly, Yeosang simply wants to marry for love.
"I don't want to think about him right now," Yeosang says softly, desperate to change the subject. He averts his gaze to the mountain of clothes on his bed so that he cannot see the way Wooyoung's face falls. "It will probably take an hour just to dress me. Let us begin so we can get it over with."
The morning passes slowly. Wooyoung forces Yeosang into the bath and scrubs him from head to toe, then slathers his face and hair with creams and pomades. One of the maids brings him breakfast and feeds him bites as Wooyoung powders his face and highlights his features with touches of makeup here and there, but leaves his birthmark uncovered at his request. Once he has been beautified from the neck up, Wooyoung helps him into his party outfit: an all-white ensemble with golden accents, a dozen complicated cuts and layers, and more buttons than any outfit could ever need. The material is stiff and unforgiving, forcing him to stand perfectly straight and poised.
Wooyoung guides him to the mirror once he's finished. Yeosang stares at himself and he sees a prince, but he does not see himself.
⋆˙⟡
The birthday festivities begin with the longest luncheon of Yeosang's life.
It's three hours of sitting prim and proper at the head of the table while listening to his father drone on about his duties and expectations now that he's reached the age of twenty-five. His mother, to her credit, attempts to lighten the mood by recalling happier memories from his childhood and complimenting her son on how well he's grown up. His older sister sits next to him and occasionally throws him pitying looks. Out of the two of them, she's always been better at dealing with everything that comes with being royalty. Every day he thanks the gods that she was born first.
He's allowed to return to his chambers for a few hours of privacy and quiet after lunch. The early morning storm has cleared, and from his bedroom window he can see carriages carrying nobles from far off lands begin to arrive. Every time a carriage door opens he holds his breath in anticipation, only to be disappointed when someone who is decidedly not San steps out of the vehicle. He sees many familiar faces–some he's happier to see than others–but none of them belong to the one person he really wants to see.
The longer he watches, the heavier the ache deep in his chest becomes, and eventually he moves away from the window.
A knock at his bedroom door pulls Yeosang out of his thoughts. Nothing else follows the knock, so he knows that the person on the other side of the door is not Wooyoung. That only leaves a handful of other people that would actively seek him out in his room.
Yeosang opens the door to see his personal guard, Yunho, standing on the other side.
"Happy birthday," Yunho says brightly. "My apologies for only being able to greet you now. I trust that you were not in too much danger while being in Wooyoung's care this morning."
"I was more at risk of being drowned while he bathed me than anything else," Yeosang says dryly. "I'm glad to see you. I will need as many friends around me as possible to survive the night." He steps to the side to allow Yunho into his bedroom.
"I miss the days when you actually enjoyed your birthday," Yunho says as he takes a seat at the vanity. "Getting into trouble was much more fun."
"Well, when your birthday becomes an opportunity to parade you around like a trophy and less like a day to celebrate you, that tends to happen." Yeosang sighs. "And we're a little too old to get into the trouble we used to as teenagers, don't you think?"
"We just have to look for a new kind of trouble," Yunho smiles. "The pranks might not be fun anymore, but don't you think you ought to find a way to do something for yourself?"
"I do plenty for myself," Yeosang says, moving toward the window again. He feels less miserable watching for San with company by his side. "But as a prince, there are some things I cannot do…or have. I accepted that early on."
When Yunho doesn't respond after some time, Yeosang looks away from the seemingly never-ending parade of carriages to his friend. He looks thoughtful.
"Is this about San?" he asks, slowly and carefully. "I did not receive a letter from him to bring to you this week. Did something happen?"
"Sometimes he cannot write to me," Yeosang says. "And I understand. He's busier now than ever. I just wish that I could invite him to the palace because I want him here and not just on the occasions my parents find him and his family useful."
Yunho nods, but his gaze is faraway. "You were never really interested in anyone until you met him, despite how desperately men and women tried to appeal to you." He presses his lips together. "Is that what you hope for, then? To see him again?"
"It's the only thing I wish for," Yeosang says. "It is a little easier to do the things I must do and be the person I must be if I know that I can see him again, even briefly."
Yunho stands and joins Yeosang at the window. "I believe that you will see each other again soon." He smiles. "You both are too stubborn to give up that easily. And I will happily continue to be the middleman."
"Thank you." Yeosang thinks of all the letters Yunho has personally handled and the meetings he's arranged that his parents have never found out about. "I appreciate you more than you know."
"Don't be so soft, now." Yunho chuckles and nudges him with his shoulder. "I am happy to do it for you as my friend."
"Still, I could thank you a little more often than I do," Yeosang says firmly, but he is not looking for an argument.
"You can thank me by enjoying the party later," Yunho says. "Wooyoung and I will be by your side as much as we can be. I think I heard rumors of Mingi arriving for the event as well."
Yeosang lights up at the prospect of another friend coming to celebrate him. Once all of the guests become sufficiently inebriated, it will be much easier for him to enjoy himself and not feel like he's putting on an act. "In that case," he starts, "I'm feeling much more excited about tonight already."
"I thought that might cheer you up," Yunho chuckles. "Come, let's get out of your chambers for a little while before the festivities begin. The weather is lovely today. It'd be a shame if we didn't enjoy it."
Yeosang can't argue with that, and so he slips out of his room with his guard at his side to enjoy the last few hours of freedom before the party begins.
⋆˙⟡
The party is extravagent and, despite his initial reservations, Yeosang finds himself enjoying it immensely.
Impressive spreads of food cover the tables and alcohol flows freely— the guests' cups never staying empty for more than a few seconds. The celebration had truly begun after a heartfelt toast by the king and queen and a shy but graceful bow on the part of the prince. He'd danced with everyone who asked to share a song with him and found himself in the arms of his friends whenever he needed a break. The music is bright and lively, spirits are high, and for the first time in years, Yeosang finds himself truly enjoying his birthday.
But even as he dances, and drinks, and dances some more, he can't forget the one person he wishes to see the most.
⋆˙⟡
The first time he'd ever seen San was at a party like this one. He had traveled to the southern coast as part of a royal delegation to learn more about the agrarian society of their neighboring kingdom and the trade routes that had been established generations before. It had been his first time traveling as a prince who was expected to work and not just to follow his parents while they negotiated.
Yeosang had been shyer back then, a little less sure of himself even after over a decade of formal lessons on history, geography, and politics. His sister had always been the confident and eloquent one between the two of them, but he couldn't live in her shadow forever. Eventually, he would have to learn to stand and succeed on his own.
Still, that first trip had been a disaster. He'd fumbled through every interaction and mixed up the names of the nobles he had spoken to and forgotten the significance of a treaty signed between the two kingdoms. Everything seemed to be going wrong and when he managed to sneak away during dinner on their last night in the southern kingdom, he quite literally ran into another young man his age.
He wasn't a noble, but his family's knowledge and agricultural talents had contributed greatly to the southern kingdom's yearly harvest and increasing prosperity.
That night, he had taken Yeosang—overwhelmed and exhausted by his own failures—into a hidden corner of the southern palace's gardens and told him stories about his childhood and all of the beautiful things that the southern kingdom had to offer. He told him which nobles were worth trusting and who to watch out for. He promised that if Yeosang were to ever return, he'd show him the beauty of the southern coast. And at the end of the night, he reached out to embrace Yeosang as if they were old friends.
His name was San. Choi San.
⋆˙⟡
When Yeosang finally sits down for the first time in hours, he takes a moment to observe the room around him: the orchestra is still steadily playing music in the corner, though the musicians had begun to play slower songs some time ago; many of the guests are still drinking and laughing loudly at the tables; and no one seems to be paying him any attention. Yunho had disappeared some time ago, but Wooyoung sits beside him, reclining against his seat and yawning loudly.
"What a night," Wooyoung sighs. "This was the best party the palace has seen in years. Even better than your sister's twenty-fifth birthday, if I may say so."
"It was a lot more fun than I expected it to be," Yeosang agrees. "I'm happy."
Wooyoung takes his hand and smiles. "I'm happy that you are happy."
Yeosang feels the first hint of fatigue tugging at his consciousness, but just as he begins to doze he's awoken by firm hands on his shoulders. He startles at the contact and turns to see Yunho gazing down at him.
"Where have you been? I was worried that the alcohol made you sick," Yeosang says.
"There was an urgent errand that needed my attention," Yunho says. He presses his lips together. "I do not mean to alarm you, my prince, but you must come with me now."
Wooyoung perks up beside him at the urgency in Yunho's voice. "Has there been a security breach?" he asks softly, immediately resting a protective hand on Yeosang's shoulder.
Yunho shakes his head. "Nothing of the sort. But we must leave quickly."
Yeosang trusts the both of them with his life, so he follows Yunho out of the ballroom with Wooyoung by his side. Yunho walks quickly and does not explain where he is taking them, but Yeosang recognizes the route to the palace gardens immediately.
What could've possibly happened in the gardens that required his attention?
"Yunho." Yeosang grabs his guard's arm to stop him the moment they step outdoors. "What is going on? Why have you brought us out here?"
"I think you need to see it for yourself, Yeosang," Yunho says. He steps away and holds an arm out to prevent Wooyoung from moving any further. "Please, just trust me. If you step just around the hedge, you'll see what I brought you here for."
Yeosang glances out toward the garden before locking eyes with Yunho again. "If this is a prank—"
"It's not, I promise you that." Yunho's eyes are shining and he looks determined. "Yeosang, please. Just go look."
"Fine," Yeosang sighs. Wooyoung, to his credit, looks just as confused as he feels, so at least he knows that his two closest friends are not conspiring against him together.
He begins to walk slowly toward the hedge that Yunho had pointed out, his heart beating and palms sweating. He has no idea what could be awaiting him–if it's a person or an animal or a treasure box full of gold–but he tries to feel brave.
When he rounds the corner, his breathing stops.
There, standing in the middle of the alcove and bathed in the light of the moon, is San.
"Hello, Yeosang." San's voice is quiet, his smile small. He doesn't approach Yeosang and the prince feels rooted in place.
"What—how are you here?" Yeosang breathes. He turns around to see Yunho and Wooyoung watching the both of them with radiant smiles on their faces and he figures that this moment must be real after all. He turns back around and San is still there, handsome and glowing in the moonlight.
"Yunho might have snuck me in," he chuckles. "I hope you are not disappointed."
"Disappointed?" Yeosang echoes. He finds the ability to move his body again and approaches San. They both reach out at the same time to take each other's hands. "Seeing you again is the only thing I wanted."
San's smile lights up his entire face. He drops Yeosang's hands so that he can cup his cheeks, and Yeosang never feels more adored than in the moments that San touches him like this. "There is nothing I wanted more than to see you, too," he murmurs. His smile falls slightly. "I'm sorry that I did not write to you."
"It is no matter," Yeosang says. "I figured that you were busy. I was reading your previous letters this morning as a little gift to myself, anyway."
"I hope you were not too offended by my comparison of you to dumplings, my love," San chuckles. He traces his fingers along Yeosang's eyebrows and the slope of his nose as his facial expression becomes thoughtful. Yeosang braces himself for San to say something so affectionate that it will make him squirm. "I always forget how beautiful you are until I see you again." One of his hands moves to the hair on nape of Yeosang's neck that touches his collar now. "You hair has grown."
"Do you like it?"
"Yes. It suits you." San smiles, gently resting his hand on the curve of Yeosang's neck. "May I kiss you?"
Yeosang has waited and ached for this for months. He rests his hands on San's waist and pulls him closer. "Please," he murmurs. San brushes his lips against the birthmark at the corner of his eye first and Yeosang almost wants to whine, but he only has to wait for a moment for San to press their lips together in a kiss.
He has no idea if Yunho and Wooyoung are still watching them and he doesn't care. San is real and solid in his arms and his lips are soft against Yeosang's own. Tucked away in the palace gardens, Yeosang is the happiest he's been all day—the happiest he's been in months.
San kisses him slowly, deeply, and Yeosang melts in his embrace. He remembers being afraid of how deeply he'd felt for San in the beginning and how unabashedly the other man gave out praise and affection, but now he craves it when he goes too long without it. San has always been eager but gentle, somehow knowing that Yeosang liked the attention and affection deep down even if he hadn't been able to put his feelings into words yet.
And now, embracing the man who had traveled all the way to his kingdom to visit him on his birthday, Yeosang knows what he feels and he isn't afraid to say it: he loves San. He loves his silly jokes and the way he always finds the beauty in even the most mundane things. He loves his unwavering tenacity and how he believes that anything is possible.
Most of all, he loves how San always finds a way to be with him despite all of the powers that try to keep them apart.
Yeosang doesn't know how much time has passed when they finally pull apart, but it's long enough to have them panting into the space between their lips. "Come with me to my room," he says, tightening his grip on San's waist.
The urgency in Yeosang's voice startles a laugh out of San. "Your majesty," San says, "I don't know if that is proper."
"I don't care about what is proper," Yeosang says. "I finally have you here with me. I'm not letting you leave that easily."
"I just worry that someone will catch us." San tucks a lock of hair behind Yeosang's ear.
"They won't," Yeosang insists, surging upward for another kiss. He is not usually so reckless, but San makes him feel like a teenager in love for the first time. San relents easily and kisses him back, though a smile overtakes his features soon enough and Yeosang ends up kissing his teeth more than his lips.
"If that is what you want, then who would I be to deny you?" San whispers. His gaze flickers away from Yeosang and to somewhere behind him. "I think Yunho intends to escort us to your chambers."
Yeosang takes San's hand and they follow Yunho into the palace. It is still early enough in the night for the party to be in full swing and the amount of alcohol that had been available ensures that everyone in the ballroom will be too inebriated to notice his absence.
The halls of the palace are quiet and dark, the candles in candelabras on the wall having not been lit yet. They walk quickly, but the only sound that can be heard is the quiet echo of their footsteps. It's as if the stars aligned and the magic of the universe conspired to make this meeting possible.
When the three of them reach Yeosang's bedroom, Yunho turns to face them with a smile. "I will wait a little ways down the hall just in case anyone comes looking for you, your highness," he says. "But San will need to leave before the sun rises. I will come fetch him when it is time."
San bows his head in understanding. Yeosang, overcome with a rush of gratitude, steps forward to pull Yunho into an embrace. "Thank you, Yunho."
"We just want to see you happy," Yunho says. He opens the bedroom door and gently nudges Yeosang toward it. "Now, go inside and do whatever it is you lovers want to do. All I ask is that you not make too much noise."
Yeosang shoves at Yunho's shoulder, but he's smiling. He reaches for San's hand again and tugs him into his bedroom, and once the door closes behind him it feels like they've entered a completely different world.
They'll be together only for a few hours, but Yeosang knows that those will be the happiest few hours of the year. He has everything he didn't dare hope for.
San's hands are gentle as he begins to undress Yeosang. "You look resplendent in this outfit," he murmurs against his neck, kissing him softly as he begins to unfasten the buttons that hold his top closed. Yeosang shivers, already weak underneath San's touch and attention. "I could not believe the sight of you when I first saw you in the garden."
"I thought I was dreaming when I saw you," Yeosang says. San finally succeeds in undoing the last button of his top and the stiff fabric falls to the ground immediately. He continues his mission of undressing Yeosang by pulling the prince's undershirt over his head. "This is all I wanted and now you're here."
Yeosang slides his hands beneath San's loose tunic to trace the hard planes of his chest, moving his hands away only for a few seconds so that San can rid himself of his shirt. Then they're kissing again, hands roaming each other's bodies as they slowly make their way to Yeosang's bed.
Being underneath San and feeling his warm, bare skin against his own is euphoric. Yeosang blooms into a different person in the privacy of his chamber, no longer too shy to indulge in the intimacy San offers, but bold enough to demand it. His hands are greedy and unceasing in their movements, wanting to feel every inch of San's body. Firm muscles built by years of toiling out in the fields of the southern kingdom, golden skin that has been kissed by the sun. He is so strong but he is never anything but gentle with Yeosang, treating the prince like he's precious not because of his pedigree, but because he loves him.
It is impossible for Yeosang to stay quiet as San kisses his way down the length of his body and nuzzles his face into the soft flesh of his thighs. San takes his time opening Yeosang up with his fingers, murmuring praise that makes him feel fiercely adored and painfully exposed all the while. He has always known just what to say to make Yeosang feel so seen in a way that is not scary, but exhilarating.
Months have passed since the last time they laid together like this, but their bodies come together as if they had never been apart. Yeosang clings to San as they move together, the other man thrusting into his body deep and slow. They're as close as two people can possibly be, but Yeosang wants them to be even closer, until it's impossible to tell where one of them begins and the other one ends, two parts of a perfect whole.
"Oh gods," Yeosang cries out when the pleasure starts to feel like too much. He tucks his face into the crook of San's neck as he feels his orgasm approach, but San guides him away while maintaining the pace of his thrusts.
"Don't hide from me," San murmurs. He cups Yeosang's cheek so that he cannot move away. "Let me see your face, my love."
Beneath San's steady gaze and loving touch, Yeosang is taken apart and put back together, his cracks and crevices filled with liquid gold.
They lay quietly for a while as they let their breathing slow. Yeosang wants to hold San and the other man is pliant as the prince arranges the two of them in his bed.
"Tell me something that you haven't written in your letters," Yeosang requests once they've gotten settled underneath the covers and San is a comforting weight against his side.
"Hmm," San hums. He rests his hand on Yeosang's chest, right above his heart. "The southern king has sent me on many trips these past weeks," he starts. "The court believes that I have a talent for negotiation and that it might be better to have someone who understands the land and the sea discuss the merits of what our kingdom has to offer."
"San, that's wonderful," Yeosang breathes. He can envision San in the turquoise robes the southern delegates wear, standing confidently in a room full of delegates from the four kingdoms and being the face of the southern kingdom.
"It is not a position in the royal court just yet, but…" San shifts so that he can gaze up at Yeosang. "I am sure that I can do my job well and elevate the status of my family in the coming years."
Yeosang's breath catches. If San's family were to become nobles, then perhaps they could see each other more often. Perhaps he could be welcomed here in the northern kingdom, in the northern palace, as a dignitary capable of forging an even stronger friendship between their two kingdoms.
Perhaps one day soon, his parents might finally consider San to be a suitable prospect for marriage.
"I want to marry you one day," Yeosang says, cupping San's cheek. "I will marry you one day."
"I will work hard to become someone you can marry," San starts. He props himself up on one arm and gazes steadily at Yeosang. "And we will be wed by the time we are thirty."
When San kisses him, it feels like a promise for the future they will build together.