Chapter Text
“Oh Poseidon,” Hoseok is moaning as they swim towards the shore. Taehyung is only half listening, too preoccupied with kicking his newly acquired legs back and forth in the water, revelling in the foreign feeling of having two limbs attached to his torso. “Your father is going to kill me, Taehyung. What am I going to tell him? He’s going to get suspicious if you don’t show up for three days—”
“We have more urgent matters that need tending to right now,” Yoongi interrupts, grunting under Taehyung’s weight.
“Like what?”
“Well, he’s naked for starters. And that’s not socially acceptable above The Surface. Oh, and he’s mute. And his hair is bright red. And he has no sense of direction, no clue of where to go to find his goddamn prince.”
Hoseok splutters.
Taehyung rolls his eyes, nudging Hoseok as if to say hey, it’s not that big of a deal. Which it isn’t. Taehyung has always been a bit of a carefree person—he’ll deal with those problems once he actually encounters them.
“Why did I think this was a good idea?” Yoongi whispers, mostly to himself. “How did he even talk me into doing this when he can’t even talk?”
“Why did you think this was a good idea?” Hoseok agrees, eyes narrowing into slits. Yoongi’s head whips up to glare daggers at Hoseok.
“Why don’t you shut up before I curse your entire bloodline?”
“I would be terrified if I hadn’t heard you come up with the worst haiku in existence thirty minutes ago.”
“Why you little—!”
The two of them start squabbling between themselves, and Taehyung would be impressed with Hoseok’s ability to forget his apparent fear of the seawitch if it weren’t for the excitement threatening to overcome him as the shore looms up in front of them.
He can barely spare the energy to tell them—or rather, motion at them—to stop it, and he focuses his energy on kicking his legs (his legs!) furiously in an attempt to make it to the shore faster.
“How I was ever afraid of you I’ll never know,” Hoseok mutters sourly.
Yoongi opens his mouth to reply, when Taehyung opens his mouth in a silent shout of excitement, patting Yoongi’s arm enthusiastically. They’re in water shallow enough for Taehyung to stand (stand!) in, and to Taehyung’s delight, they’re on the outskirts of the rockpools where he and Jeongguk always meet.
Taehyung scrambles out of Yoongi and Hoseok’s tight grip, ignoring their protests and begins wading excitedly to shore. He can almost see Jeongguk’s surprised and happy expression when he marches up to Jeongguk with his brand new legs. Maybe they’ll go horse riding and do all those things that Jeongguk’s always talking about.
Taehyung is practically vibrating with excitement by the time he reaches the shore, and he turns back to Hoseok and Yoongi, cocking his head to the side in a silent question. Hoseok and Yoongi wear matching fond yet exasperated expressions on their face, and Hoseok rolls his eyes and smiles and waves him forward.
“Go on, then,” Hoseok says. “Show us how you walk.”
The water reaches Taehyung’s waist now, and he’s having a little more trouble than he had originally anticipated. Now that the water is receding, Taehyung is forced to rely on his actual legs to carry him to shore, rather than floating his way to shore. It feels strange and foreign, having to lean on two strange limbs he’s never used before, and the feeling of the sand squishing between his toes (toes!) is quite possibly the best feeling in the entire world.
It takes a few attempts for Taehyung to stand upright. He keeps falling over, losing his balance and splashing face first into the water. It always comes to Taehyung as a rude surprise when he tries to breathe underwater and realises that he, alas, cannot anymore. But it also means that he’s a human, with human lungs and human legs and maybe it’s not so bad anymore.
It’s an impossible feat in itself, but Taehyung somehow manages to wobble his way to shore (with only a few casualties) and manages to stand upright for a grand three seconds, turning to face Hoseok and Yoongi with an excited grin on his face before he falls over onto the sand.
“Oh Poseidon,” he can hear Hoseok mutter.
It hurts, falling over on The Surface—sand is much harder than it is underwater. And it doesn’t taste all that nice, either. Besides, Taehyung, in his grand twenty-three years of existence, has never fallen over, or tripped, or anything of the sort, so it’s all rather unusual for him. Taehyung manages to turn, a small frown on his face. Maybe he’ll ask Yoongi for some sort of walking serum or something to help him with his balance.
“Tae, you alright?” Yoongi asks. “What’s wrong?”
Taehyung is the midst of gesturing to his feet, when Hoseok and Yoongi’s eyes both widen simultaneously. It would almost be funny, the way their expressions change into identical expressions of fear and surprise if Taehyung wasn’t so confused.
“Someone’s—someone’s—!” Hoseok manages to whisper in a panic before both him and Yoongi dive underwater.
“What the—”
Taehyung turns, his lips pulling up into a confused smile at the unfamiliar voice behind him. It’s a human; a lean, small man who looks to be the same age as Taehyung. He has a kind, open face contorted into one of surprise and hesitance and silvery hair that looks like the elixirs that Yoongi makes. He’s wearing fancy clothes, ones similar to the clothes that Jeongguk wears sometimes.
Cute, is the word that pops into Taehyung’s mind. He wonders if all humans are as cute as this one.
The Cute One snaps his mouth shut, blinking a few times at Taehyung who blinks back at him. Then he manages to catch himself and rushes towards Taehyung who stumbles a step back (and doesn’t fall over. Go Taehyung).
“Oh my god, are—are you okay? Where did you come from? You’re soaking wet and—oh my god,” The Cute One cuts himself off as his eyes trail down, a pink flush spreading rapidly across his cheeks. “You’re—you’re naked. Wow, um—okay. Uh.”
Taehyung’s eyes follow The Cute One’s, to see where he’s looking and—oh. What is that? A third limb hangs between his legs. It looks a little like a huge, overgrown finger, or a tiny third leg. His tutor had never brought up anything like this when they had studied humans. Come to think of it, neither had Jeongguk. Was it normal? Or did Taehyung go through some strange freak accident when Yoongi had cast that spell on him. Was it—Poseidon forbid—his tail, shrunk into a tiny compact form, ready to burst out when the sun set on the third day?
Taehyung reaches out to touch it when a small, soft hand hurriedly ceases his motions.
“No—no, don’t poke it, oh god—um.”
Taehyung looks back up at The Cute One, cocking his head to the side to show his confusion.
“What’s your name? Are you lost?” The Cute One asks him, eyebrows pinching together in worry. “Were you—were you caught in the storm last night?”
Taehyung taps his throat once and then shakes his head and the Cute One’s eyes brighten with understanding. “Ah—you can’t speak?”
Taehyung shakes his head.
“You must’ve been caught in the storm last night, and washed up on shore here, didn’t you?” The Cute One’s voice is so sympathetic and worried that Taehyung decides to go with it, lowering his eyes and nodding pathetically. He’s hamming it up a little, but he’s enjoying it too much to stop.
“Oh dear, you poor thing,” The Cute One says. “Hmm, let me see…”
He looks around, spinning on the spot, when his eyes land on an old sail that must’ve washed up on shore when the ‘storm’ (or rather, when Yoongi had been conjuring one of his spells) struck.
“Aha! I’ll use this to cover you so you’re, uh, decent,” The Cute One coughs awkwardly, scurrying over to drag the sail. He drapes it around Taehyung’s entire body, catching Taehyung when he stumbles under the weight. “Please, let me escort you back to the palace. Someone will be able to help you more than I can.”
He begins to slowly help Taehyung hobble in the direction of the palace, wrapping a firm arm around his waist so that he doesn’t fall over. “That’s it, slowly does it! God, I could never imagine being caught in a storm! You must be so brave, I…”
The Cute One continues to chatter easily, and Taehyung is struck by how nice this human is. He twists in his grip and looks over his shoulder and Hoseok and Yoongi’s heads are sticking out of the water, watching him limp away.
Taehyung throws a big thumbs up over his shoulder to a stressed looking Hoseok and an amused Yoongi before turning around again to smile hugely at The Cute One. He reaches down to run a hand up and down one of his legs, and he’s struck by how smooth they are. He can’t believe it. His legs. His amazing human legs.
The Cute One smiles at him kindly. “You must have really been through Hell and back last night. I can’t imagine what you must’ve been through. And to think after all that, you can still smile.”
Taehyung says nothing, just smiles beatifically at The Cute One. “You know, I’m not native to this province. I reign over the north Gyeongsang province. Have you heard of it? It’s lovely there too, but here it’s just so nice. The people, the weather, everything. Even the prince! He’s a little mean to me, but I can tell he’s kind-hearted.”
Taehyung smiles, a small, private smile.
(Because even know he might not be sure of anything else, that is something he is definitely sure of.)
Late. Again.
Jeongguk paces back and forth in the dining room, looking down at his Rolex and scoffing in disbelief. Not just late, but ten minutes late. And here Jeongguk was, trying his hardest not to be an ass and actually making an effort by inviting Jimin to dinner (Jeongguk readily ignores the tiny voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Namjoon reminding him that invitation or not Jimin would’ve eaten dinner with Jeongguk).
“God,” Jeongguk huffs in annoyance, striding past a ruffled looking Namjoon who scurries after him. “Where is he? Honestly, does Jimin not have any sense of responsibility?”
“Prince Jimin, Your Majesty,” Namjoon chides, but it falls on deaf ears as Jeongguk shakes his head angrily.
“No doubt the blame is going to be on me when father comes and—”
There’s a loud commotion that cuts Jeongguk off halfway through his rant that makes Namjoon startle so violently he fumbles with his clipboard for a few seconds. Both Jeongguk and Namjoon’s head swivel towards the door, before they look back at each other.
“What the f—”
Yerin, a young maid, comes rushing into the dining hall, her cap askew and her hair a dishevelled mess. She skids to a stop in front of Jeongguk, sinking low into a hasty bow.
“What’s happening?” Jeongguk demands. “What’s that racket?”
Yerin hardly dares to look up to meet Jeongguk’s gaze, her cheeks turning a bright red before she looks down again. She straightens up, still averting her gaze respectfully, but she’s all fidgety, like she can hardly wait to tell Jeongguk what the actual hell is going on.
Her expression is a strange mixture of horror and excitement and she can’t help an embarrassed giggle before she manages to compose herself.
“Your—Your Majesty, Prince Jimin requests your presence immediately,” Yerin says breathlessly. “There is a—a naked boy with him!” She whispers the word naked, as if the word is too scandalous to say aloud, blushing furiously.
“What?” Jeongguk bursts. Yerin startles, squeaking in shock, before sinking into a low bow. He rounds on Namjoon who immediately takes a step back, nervously pushing his glasses up his nose. “Did you fucking hear that, Namjoon?”
He ignores Namjoon’s frantic attempts to shut up him, instead opting to shake his head in disbelief and scoff loudly. “I swear to fucking god, if I find out he’s cheating on me—like, what the fuck?! How in the fuck does that even work? We’re not even married, for fucks’ sake! Jimin better hope this isn’t what it sounds like, because I swear I’m going to castrate him.”
By the end of Jeongguk’s mini rant, Namjoon is sweating bullets, and frantically shushing him, uselessly fluttering his hands about. “Your Majesty, language. Oh god. Oh sweet Jesus I’m going to be fired. Oh god have mercy.”
Jeongguk turns to face Yerin. “Where is he?”
Yerin’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “In the great hall, Your Majesty,” she breathes.
Without another word, Jeongguk immediately storms out of the dining hall, towards the direction of the main hall. Namjoon trips in his haste to follow Jeongguk, scurrying alongside him.
“Prince Jeongguk,” he says hurriedly. “Keep your cool and for the love of everything sacred, stop swearing.”
In record time, Jeongguk reaches the top of the staircase. He scans the great hall, eyes landing immediately on Jimin, who, for all its worth, looks flustered as hell. There’s a bright flush in his cheeks, and he keeps laughing nervously, eyes darting around.
“Look at him, Namjoon,” Jeongguk sneers. “Look how nervous he looks. You know why? Huh? You know why?”
“Why?” Namjoon sighs resignedly.
“Because he’s caught, Joon. Nowhere to run. Or hide, for that matter,” Jeongguk adds on as an afterthought.
There’s a small part of him that wonders just why he’s so victorious and smug when he’s caught his husband-to-be cheating on him, but he pushes that thought to the back of his head as he walks down the stairs, as quickly as humanely possible without forgetting his manners (which, by the looks of it, are hanging precariously by a single thread of dignity).
As Jeongguk reaches the bottom of the staircase, he makes to walk towards Jimin, but there’s something that stops him. Perhaps it’s because the whole time Jeongguk was gracefully descending the staircase Jimin didn’t stop to even spare him a glance. Or perhaps it’s the fact that Jimin is currently helping someone who is wrapped in a fucking sail. A sail. A dirty, dinghy sail. What the fuck.
How he didn’t see that before he doesn’t really know—it probably has to do with the fact that his mind was somewhat preoccupied, but still. A sail.
Jeongguk can’t help his face scrunching up into mild disgust. He can smell the old decaying seaweed and salty brine wafting over from where Jimin and the mystery man stands. Yeah, he’s snobby—so sue him. He’s a prince.
But there’s something strangely familiar about the guy draped in a sail. Something that he can’t really place a finger on. Jeongguk takes one cautious step forward towards them, and in that exact moment, the mystery man turns his head just enough so that Jeongguk catches a glimpse of his face and—
Holy fuck.
Jeongguk splutters incoherently in a decidedly unprincely manner because what the fuck, it’s fucking Taehyung—his goddamn mermaid friend (who he may or may not be harbouring a huge crush on).
He slaps himself several times, steadfastly ignoring Namjoon’s protests because surely, surely, there must be something severely wrong with his eyes, but nope, it’s Taehyung, with bright fiery red hair, wobbling around on a pair of legs (legs. Legs!)
“T—Taehyung?” Jeongguk whispers, mostly to himself. His legs feel weak for a second and he falters a little, Namjoon immediately throwing his hands out and steadying Jeongguk.
“Your Majesty?”
Cue lightbulb moment.
“Holy f—Taehyung!” Jeongguk bellows at the top of his lungs, shouting across the great hall, manners be damned because its Taehyung, goddamn Taehyung with human legs and red hair and this shouldn’t be happening but it is and—
He rips himself out of Namjoon’s grip and sprints across great hall with the speed a lynx, a speed he (a) didn’t know was humanely possible and (b) didn’t even know he possessed. The sudden onslaught of emotions is a little overwhelming, and Jeongguk doesn’t really know what to do with himself and there’s a chance he might be hyperventilating, but it doesn’t matter because its Taehyung.
Taehyung perks up at the mention of his name and his head whips around, face breaking out into the huge, gorgeous smile Jeongguk loves so much. Jeongguk skids to a stop in front of Taehyung, and Taehyung wastes no time throwing himself into Jeongguk’s arms.
A little surprised, Jeongguk grunts under the sudden weight of Taehyung flinging himself into his arms, but he wraps his arms securely around Taehyung’s thin waist, drawing him in close and burying his face into Taehyung’s neck. There’s a flurry of gasps and murmuring, but Jeongguk doesn’t care, not when Taehyung is so soft and warm in his arms, wriggling like an excited puppy. There’s a soft hand carding its fingers through Jeongguk’s hair comfortingly, and Jeongguk’s heart aches and aches because there’s no fucking way this can be real but somehow—somehow, it is.
He’s not sure how long they stay like that, locked in each other’s embrace, but Jeongguk reluctantly pulls away and sets Taehyung down on his feet. Taehyung smiles gently at Jeongguk and reaches out to cup his cheek. His eyes are twinkling and he seems to be laughing, but he doesn’t say anything.
Jeongguk leans into Taehyung’s touch, searching his eyes. “Taehyung? How—how—what are you doing here? How did you get here?”
Taehyung withdraws his hand from Jeongguk’s face to tap his throat. It doesn’t take long for it to click in Jeongguk’s brain. “You—you lost your voice?”
He nods and Jeongguk frowns slightly. “What happened?” He drops his voice down to a whisper. “What about your tail? Did you—did you—do this…for me?”
Taehyung doesn’t say anything, just smiles softly at Jeongguk.
I did it to be with you.
Being a human is probably the best decision Taehyung has ever made in his entire life.
Should someone like Hoseok (or Poseidon forbid, his father) ever ask for three reasons why he should be allowed to stay as human, he has constructed a fairly solid argument thus far that will surely dazzle said person so goddamn much they will, without fail, allow him to remain a human.
First, the food. Taehyung would first and foremost like to begin his argument formally with the words: what the fuck.
Honestly. There he had been, living his life to the fullest (or at least, what he thought was the fullest) ignorantly eating his various types of kelp and molluscs, thinking that his life was great when there was a whole new world—quite literally—of food that he didn’t know existed. Like, don’t get him wrong. Molluscs are salty and delicious and really capture the essence of the ocean, but hotpot? Noodles? Red velvet cheesecake? That, as Jeongguk once said, is a whole new goddamn ballgame.
Who would’ve thought that foods could have so many different textures and tastes and categories? Taehyung had wholeheartedly been affronted as heck when Yerin, a maid serving Taehyung, had told him that no, he could not eat red velvet cheesecake and drink coke first thing in the morning, because apparently, it was only meant for ‘dessert’.
But Taehyung would convert and adhere to all the strange human eating rituals if it meant that he could eat human food for the rest of his life (he had, however, felt a wave of queasiness when they had served the main course for dinner—a seafood banquet. Looking into the eyes of his deceased fish friends was probably not the best for his appetite).
Secondly, there’s the dancing. In Atlantica, there’s dancing, sure, but it’s so different and decidedly less freeing than dancing above the Surface and it’s captivating in a way that takes Taehyung’s breath away.
Taehyung has always found humans adorable because of their clumsiness, clopping around with their feet (something Taehyung realises is not an easy feat—pun fucking intended). So it’s fair to say that Taehyung was blown away, to say the least, when he and Jeongguk danced after dinner. The way Jeongguk had twirled Taehyung around so effortlessly, the way he seemed to place his foot so carefully in each position—it left Taehyung mesmerised.
And his third—if not most important—reason: Jeongguk.
Jeongguk, Jeongguk, Jeongguk.
His lovely human prince. So full of love and compassion not only for Taehyung and those around him, but for his people, his kingdom. It fills Taehyung’s heart with a quiet, desperate kind of yearning because he’s so, so close—able to touch, and feel and see Jeongguk up close and personal, and yet so far away. His legs, both a blessing and a curse, serve him with the reminder that everything is indeed temporary.
And all good things, ultimately, must come to an end.
After Yerin has helped Taehyung into his pyjamas (humans, apparently, have clothes for every occasion and if that isn’t the cutest thing ever, Taehyung doesn’t know what is) and into his luxurious bed, Taehyung is slowly beginning to realise how darn amazing The Surface really is. Mostly because of these things Yerin had called pillows but everything else is pretty top notch, too.
Taehyung is excited and wants to dance and jump and run and do all the human actions, but a full day of turning into a human, pretending to be a washed up human, and eating and dancing and doing all things human has really drained him. He’s not too sure how they do it on a daily basis, but he’s sure that he could fall into the rhythm of things once he’s gone and settled himself into a routine.
He can feel himself falling asleep and he settles more comfortably in his bed and—yep, this is definitely something Taehyung can get used to.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Taehyung’s eyes fly open and he lets out a startled yell—well, at least he tries to. Like, he would, if he could. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he just settles for opening his mouth widely like an idiot in a pseudo-scream that he’s sure would have been profoundly loud and impressive.
Hand pressed dramatically over his chest, his eyes fall on—Yoongi? Arms crossed over his chest and expression decidedly unimpressed, Yoongi looks as normal as ever—tail included. Taehyung scrambles to the end of his bed, mind racing because how is Yoongi floating in the middle of the air, tail flicking backs and forwards like it always does when he’s agitated or annoyed? Magic, Taehyung decides, is fucking amazing.
He cocks his head in confusion and Yoongi’s annoyed façade finally cracks and he smiles slightly, rolling his eyes fondly. “It’s only an apparition, Tae. I’m not really there, if you were wondering.”
Yoongi looks like he’s about to say something else when another familiar voice interrupts him. “Holy Poseidon! That is so trippy.”
Hoseok’s head pops into view and only then does it really look like an apparition, with half of Hoseok’s body fading out of view. Hoseok looks far too excited and relaxed for someone who had been quaking in their shells at the mention of the sea-witch not even 24 hours ago.
“So,” Yoongi says, ignoring Hoseok’s wonderment, “how’s life on the Surface treating you? Eating good? Walking good?”
Taehyung nods enthusiastically, yanking up his pyjama top to show Yoongi his full stomach. Yes, he tries to communicate telepathically. I’m six months pregnant with my new lover, Human Food. Yoongi chuckles and shakes his head for a second before he pauses dramatically, expression darkening.
“You better not be eatin’ seafood or I swear to Poseidon, I’ll march up to the palace and tell your father myself,” he warns Taehyung who flinches immediately, frantically shaking his head and making an X sign with his arms.
“Okay, good, well I’m just saying,” Yoongi grumbles. “You can never be too careful. Fucken’ humans and their love for seafood, I swear. Anyways, the reason I contacted you is because we need to talk about the contract. Well, not we, since I’m legally bound to the contact, but I found a loophole, because technically Hoseok can still talk about it. Ho—Hoseok, fuck, oh my Poseidon get your dumbass here and tell Taehyung what I told you.”
Yoongi reaches out, his arm disappearing into oblivion and yanks a still-amazed Hoseok into the frame.
“Yoongi, this is so cool, magic is amazing,” Hoseok gushes. Yoongi rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile playing on his lips.
“Hoseok, focus.”
“Oh—right, sorry. So I just want to start by saying even though I am still so against this, your father has no idea where in the holy name of Poseidon you are. Right now he thinks you’re studying in the library for an exam—by the way, I had to bribe your stupid tutor with one of my own damn pearls, you’re welcome—so he probably won’t come looking for you. Probably. Maybe. Rest assured though,” Hoseok says, looking less assured and more concerned, “even though my ass is going to the first to be interrogated on the off-chance he does find you missing, I won’t crack, so you need to focus on your goal.”
When Taehyung furrows his eyebrows in an attempt to draw the fuzzy memory from the depths of his brain (he has terrible memory—he can barely remember his way around the palace, let alone an incredibly boring legal contract), Yoongi lets out a huge sigh, shaking his head and motions for Hoseok to continue on.
“Remember how Yoongi said that you could permanently remain human? Well, in order to do that, you need to kiss Jeongguk; and not just any kiss”—Hoseok pauses dramatically for effect—“but True Love’s Kiss, if you want to remain human forever.”
Oh.
Cue: slight panic. There is a tiny, minor setback in what Taehyung assumes would have otherwise been an amazing, foolproof way to becoming a human. He figures that he could probably (definitely not) figure this out as he goes along.
Taehyung tries his best to hide his confusion and panic, but nothing slips past Yoongi, whose eyes narrow suspiciously. Taehyung tries not to fidget under Yoongi’s sharp gaze, but something in his face must give it away because Yoongi’s eyes widen slowly in a horrified realisation.
“Oh my Poseidon,” he whispers, clutching Hoseok’s arm tightly. Hoseok stares down at Yoongi in a mixture of fear and surprise. “Oh sweet merciful Poseidon.”
“What? What is it?”
“He doesn’t know,” Yoongi says, still staring at Taehyung in a morbid fascination that makes Taehyung squirm uncomfortably.
“What are you talking about?” Hoseok asks, exasperated.
“True Love!” Yoongi bursts, making both Hoseok and Taehyung jump, “The fucker doesn’t know what True Love is, look at his face! Does that face look like a face of understanding?! How in the holy, sacred name of Poseidon is he meant to get True Love’s Kiss if he doesn’t even know what it is?!”
Hoseok stares at Yoongi before staring at Taehyung, his confused face slowly morphing into the same horrified expression as Yoongi’s.
“Tae…”
When Taehyung shrugs helplessly, Yoongi moans, dragging his hands down his face. “We’re so fucked.”
“Yoongi, oh my Poseidon, stop,” Hoseok wrenches Yoongi’s hands off his face. “It’s fine. I was prepared for this—I went to the library straight after and researched this. Okay, so, by textbook definition, a True Love’s Kiss is a kiss shared between two soulmates—most commonly lovers—that can break through any outside force, including magic and curses.”
Hoseok pauses. “Taehyung, you love Jeongguk, right?”
Taehyung nods enthusiastically. Sure, there might be a lot of things that Taehyung doesn’t know, like how to use the ‘toilet’, and what True Love’s Kiss is, but if there’s one thing Taehyung is sure about, its that he really, really does love Jeongguk.
“Well,” Hoseok pauses, looking hesitant, “does Jeongguk love you? Look, I—I know you love him, I understand that. But he needs to love you back in order for the spell to work. He needs to tell you himself that he loves you and truly mean it for the spell to have effect.”
Taehyung can feel himself deflating a little, his blind enthusiasm dulling. He had never thought about it that way before. Does Jeongguk love him? Jeongguk is fond of him, cares for him even, but love is—something else.
“Hey.” A gentle voice cuts through his thoughts. Taehyung lifts his head to find Yoongi looking at him, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Give Jeongguk a little more credit than that. Give yourself a little more credit than that.”
When Taehyung doesn’t respond, Yoongi gives a little chuckle and shakes his head. “Taehyung-ah. You traded your damn tail for legs, turned your hair red and lost your voice all for him. Do you really think I’d let you go through all of that if I wasn’t sure that Jeongguk was crazy about you too? Forget about giving Jeongguk or even yourself credit. Give me some credit. Trust hyung, Taetae. I’ll take care of you, okay?”
Yoongi looks so sure Taehyung can’t help but smile a little. Yoongi grins back widely and makes shooing motions. “Good. Now go get some rest because tomorrow is going to be a big day. Tomorrow’s the day you’re going to show that fucker just who Kim Taehyung really is.”
There are a few widely known facts about Jeon Jeongguk within the castle walls.
Paper cuts make him cry, eggplants make him angry (so never, under any circumstances, present him a dish containing eggplants), and he still likes to take bubble baths, just to name a few.
But perhaps the one thing he is best known for is that he is truly, truly impossible to wake up. So on this blessed Tuesday morning, when Namjoon and several maids enter Jeongguk’s chambers armed with a plethora of items (read: weapons) ready for the battle that is otherwise known as waking Jeongguk up, Namjoon is understandably somewhat antsy about what he reckons is the worst thing about being Jeongguk’s advisor.
So when Namjoon whispers Your Majesty near Jeongguk’s face, expecting absolutely no reaction—not even a damn huff—it’s safe to say that Namjoon and the maids get the shock of their fucking lives when Jeongguk jolts awake, eyes flying open and gasping loudly like he’d been held underwater.
(No, seriously. Namjoon only just manages to stifle a terrified scream and staggers backward, his foot catching on something—probably his other foot, if we’re being completely honest here—nearly falling on his damn ass. It’s only the promise of an utterly devastating and humiliating end to his hard-earned career does he manage to catch himself on the edge of Jeongguk’s bed and straighten himself out quickly.)
“Agh,” Jeongguk gasps hoarsely, eyes darting around wildly before settling on Namjoon’s shell-shocked form, “holy fuck Namjoon, I had the wildest dream ever. My—my mermaid turned into a human and—”
Jeongguk cuts himself off when he notices Namjoon looking at him like he’s grown a third head, his eyes the size of saucers. Namjoon must be able to sense Jeongguk’s hesitance because he seems to shake himself a little and smooths his hair down. Namjoon quickly motions the maids to leave and they scurry out hurriedly.
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” He says, bowing his head in greeting. “I didn’t expect for you to wake up so quickly. Were you talking about… Taehyung-ssi by any chance?” He adds on delicately.
Jeongguk’s eyes widen. Holy fuck. Namjoon, he decides, is definitely a genius. Or at least part-witch. “How—how do you know Taehyung?” He whispers in reverence.
Namjoon blinks several times. “I—”
Then it hits Jeongguk like a freight train. Taehyung, the Love of his Damn Life used to be a mermaid and now he’s somehow a human and his hair is a fire-truck red and he can’t talk and this shit really shouldn’t be happening but it is and it’s so. Damn. Fucked. Up.
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT BALLS. NAMJOON, MY GOOD MAN, THIS SHIT IS FUCKED,” Jeongguk pretty much screams, sitting up so fast he gets vertigo, interrupting Namjoon and succeeding in making him violently start again.
“Language—”
“Namjoon, I think I’m having a nervous meltdown. This shit is literally fat fucking fried balls. Oh my god. Fuck. Fuck.” Jeongguk turns to Namjoon, only to recoil slightly. Namjoon, his good man, looks as though he’s aged twenty years in the last thirteen seconds and Jeongguk feels guilty for approximately 1/3 of a second for forgetting that he is, indeed a prince, and not some foul-mouthed farmer.
Then he remembers the absolute clusterfuck he’s in and his guilt pretty much dissipates. He clambers out of his bed, and Namjoon scrambles to follow, barking orders for the maids to come and help Jeongguk ready himself for the day.
Jeongguk hastily brushes his teeth and splashes water on his face, brushing aside Joohyun’s—the head maid—attempts to brush his hair. He paces up and down his chambers, and the maids rush to follow him, attempting to dress him as he walks.
“Okay—okay. I can do this,” Jeongguk says. “Namjoon, I need to think this through, ‘cause it’s—”
“—‘Because’, not ‘‘cause’, Your Majesty—”
“—Oh right, sorry; because it’s a huge fucking clusterfuck since I’m pretty sure I’m in love—ow, Joohyun that’s too tight—”
“—My apologies, Your Majesty—”
“—and he’s human right now, but then I’ve got that engagement party with Jimin tomorrow—”
“—Prince Jimin—”
“—and to be honest, Taehyung couldn’t have picked a worse time to come, but at the same time he couldn’t have picked a better time and—oh my god,” Jeongguk cuts himself off, groaning and smacking his forehead. “What happened to Ji—Prince Jimin? After last night? Shit, I completely forgot about him! I was so wrapped up with Taehyung and everything that was happening and—why are you smiling like that?”
Namjoon is force-smiling at Jeongguk—the weird one where it looks like someone’s gone and force-fed him an entire lemon and asked him to smile through the sour pain. It’s the smile Namjoon smiles every time he’s about to deliver some majorly shitty news. Jeongguk swallows nervously.
“Ah… Your Majesty…”
“What? What is it?” Jeongguk demands, an uncomfortable sensation crawling up the back of his neck. He turns his attention quickly to the maids, who have been silently finishing up. “Leave us. I need to speak privately with Namjoon.”
They immediately bow their heads respectfully and hurry out of Jeongguk’s bedroom, closing the door with a snap.
“Well, there was nothing Prince Jimin could really do,” Namjoon starts carefully. “If I may be so bold, you and Taehyung-ssi were… trapped in your own little world, and it just—there were bad vibes, Your Majesty. I mean good vibes—great, even for you—but bad for him. He just—just quietly left on his own and let you two be.”
Jeongguk can feel his heart sinking and he looks away from Namjoon guiltily, staring out the window. Jeongguk isn’t a fucking dick—well, he kinda is, but that’s beside the point—and he feels pretty terrible knowing that he’d just left Jimin on his own, too caught up with Taehyung to give a damn about anything else.
‘Cause yeah. Jeongguk is a big ol’ douche canoe sometimes, a real princely jerk and he knows it. He might be a real piece of work but Jimin isn’t. Jimin is kind, and compassionate and definitely doesn’t deserve to be treated like an unwanted toy, cast aside when a bigger, shinier toy comes into the picture. The feeling of being forgotten or unwanted is a feeling that Jeongguk is all too familiar with, and he knows how much of a shitty feeling it is.
Guilt wracks through Jeongguk and he sits down on the edge of his bed, running his hand down face.
“Fuck,” Jeongguk quietly curses.
Fuck indeed.
Jeongguk stands outside Jimin’s chambers, fist raised, ready to knock on the door. He exhales sharply once before lowering his fist and turning to Namjoon, panicky.
“I can’t do this,” He whispers urgently.
“Yes you can,” Namjoon whispers back. “You said so yourself—this is your peace offering. No more fighting and no more douche canoe behaviour.”
“What if he throws my apology in my face and tells me to go fuck myself?”
“Your Majesty, don’t take this the wrong way, but you would probably deserve it,” Upon seeing Jeongguk’s dark expression, Namjoon hurriedly continues on, “Besides, Prince Jimin isn’t like that. You know that.”
“Yeah, but—”
Jeongguk and Namjoon’s whispered conversation is cut short as the door to Jimin’s chambers swing open, revealing Jimin smiling at them (Jeongguk is a little annoyed that Jimin looks so perfect at ass o’clock in the morning, with not a single silvery strand of hair out of place).
“Thought I heard something outside my doors,” Jimin says with a little laugh. “Come in, come in.”
Jeongguk and Namjoon awkwardly trail in after Jimin. Jimin sits down at the little table by the window and gestures for Jeongguk and Namjoon to do the same. Namjoon bows his head and respectfully keeps his distance, but Jeongguk accepts his invitation and sits down.
“So, what do I owe the pleasure this early in the morning?” Jimin asks.
He’s so damn… polite and cheerful Jeongguk wants to simultaneously hurl himself dramatically at Jimin’s feet and beg for forgiveness and also throw himself onto Jimin’s neatly made bed and cry his damn lungs out. Why couldn’t Jimin have just been a major douche like Jeongguk was?
“So—uh, Prince Jimin, I, uh—”
“—None of this prince business, remember?” Jimin reminds Jeongguk gently. “Call me hyung.”
“Right. Hyung.” The word feels foreign in Jeongguk’s mouth and he swallows nervously before attempting to continue. “I—uh, I. You know. I, um—”
The words are getting jumbled in Jeongguk’s mouth, his nervous stutter making it even harder for him to form vowels and consonants in his mouth.
“Yeah?” Jimin encourages him, smiling at him so kindly Jeongguk feels even worse because he wants to get the words out, wants to apologise for everything and start again but the words are stuck and he doesn’t know what to say and—
“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” Jimin interrupts gently. He pauses for a second, eyes searching Jeongguk’s face, before smiling slightly. “Sometimes there’ll be times where I want to say something so desperately, but the words just won’t come out. I used to try to force the words out, but now I’ve come to realise that—that it’s just best to talk about something else until you’re ready to talk about it. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, so whatever you want to say, it can wait. I’ll wait until you’re ready, so… don’t force yourself, okay?”
When Jeongguk nods, Jimin leans back in his chair, cocking his head to the side. “So… are you excited?”
The random question throws Jeongguk off completely. “Huh?” He blurts out, forgetting his princely manners (not that he had too much to start off with).
Jimin chuckles and leans over to good-naturedly shove Jeongguk lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t tell me you haven’t planned out a day with Taehyung-ssi, he seemed so excited… Busy day, Jeongguk. You should get ready.”
“Wait, are—are you sure? I mean—like—”
Jimin laughs and makes shooing motions. “Jeongguk, go. It’s fine. I’ll see you at dinner, anyways. You can tell me all about it then.”
As Jeongguk walks towards Taehyung’s chambers, he chatters excitedly to a surprisingly silent Namjoon. The guilt he was feeling earlier simmers in his stomach, but is overshadowed by the excitement of the prospect of spending an entire day with Taehyung on land.
“Wow,” Jeongguk says to Namjoon as they turn a corner. “Jimin hyung is so chill, don’t you think? Maybe I was wrong about him.”
When there’s no reply, Jeongguk turns to Namjoon expectantly and feels slightly confused at the constipated expression on his face—the expression he has when he’s lost in thought. Jeongguk frowns, and opens his mouth, about to ask him what’s wrong when he’s interrupted by a door flinging open dramatically, startling him.
Taehyung wobbles out unsteadily, knees bent and arms outstretched in an attempt to steady himself, looking far too fucking pleased with himself.
“Taehyung-ssi!” Yerin hurries closely behind Taehyung, cap askew and looking flustered as hell, “your shoes, sir!”
Jeongguk isn’t too fussed about the fact that Taehyung is barefoot—namely because he’s too busy feeling like all the air in him has been sucker-punched out of him by a drunk Namjoon (something that Jeongguk has, unfortunately, experienced before and something Jeongguk sincerely wishes he never fucking experiences again), ‘cause holy fuck if those aren’t the tightest fucking pants Jeongguk has ever had the pleasure of viewing on someone.
Jeongguk stares at Taehyung for a solid couple of seconds before he snaps out of it and sternly reminds himself to stop gawking at Taehyung’s thighs like a prepubescent hormonal teenage boy and snaps his mouth shut, clearing his throat awkwardly.
“Good morning, Tae,” He says.
Good morning, Taehyung mouths back happily, before his eyes widen and he grabs Jeongguk’s hand and pulls him into the room (and oh how Jeongguk’s inner prepubescent, hormonal teenage self would love for Taehyung to be doing that under different circumstances) leading him towards his neatly made bed.
Pointing excitedly to a pillow, Taehyung looks at Jeongguk expectedly. Jeongguk, not too sure how to react to a pillow, gives Taehyung an awkward thumbs up. Clearly unhappy with his reaction, Taehyung jumps onto his bed in a wobbly fashion, grabbing the pillow and thrusting it into his hands and gesturing for him to squish it.
Yerin, who comes into the room followed by Namjoon, giggles. “Taehyung-ssi seems to have a fascination with pillows. He’s been making me touch them all morning!”
Jeongguk closes his eyes, clutching the pillow to his chest and breathes in and out slowly because that is seriously the cutest fucking thing he’s ever heard and doesn’t really know how to cope with the knowledge that Taehyung has been fascinated by pillows, of all things.
Yerin helps Taehyung put on his shoes and while she laces them up Taehyung watches captivated, his mouth opening slightly to make a small ‘o’ and Jeongguk’s crusty heart literally feels as though it’s about to explode in a shower of glitter and sparkles and all that disgusting jazz. At the same time, however, Jeongguk Junior is twitching with interest at the sight of Taehyung looking like a meal—no, a fucking full course, all-you-can-eat buffet—in those tight ass skinny tailored pants. Jeongguk makes a mental note to tell Namjoon to raise Yerin’s pay for coming through and answering Jeongguk’s prayers.
Jeongguk’s train of thought is going down a dangerous path, one that’s going to lead to an appearance of something that definitely should not be making an appearance. Jeongguk hurries to change the subject before something decidedly unprincely happens and he’ll be forced to have a long, long conversation with his father about the right timing of things.
“Did you rest well?” Jeongguk asks.
When Taehyung nods, Jeongguk smiles, grabbing Taehyung’s hand and leading him out of the room.
“Good, I hope you had a lot of rest, because we’ve got a full day ahead of us. C’mon, I’m going to show you around.”
Sometimes, Jeongguk thinks, throwing aside one’s dignity and pride in order to achieve what one desires is totally and completely worth it. Sure, he wanted to hurl his crown at Namjoon’s head when he had said no to letting Jeongguk and Taehyung ride in an open carriage (something about being ‘vulnerable’ to attacks, how ridiculous). And sure, his ears might’ve been burning with embarrassment and shame as he wheedled and begged Namjoon for a good six minutes before he gave in, muttering something about feeling like a babysitter.
But the feeling of wanting to headbutt Namjoon seems to fly out the window watching Taehyung have the time of his damn life—mouth open in a silent shout of what Jeongguk hopes is excitement and not, say, terror—as they clip-clop towards the Main Square seems worth every shameful minute Jeongguk spent swallowing his pride and acting cutesy in an attempt to freak Namjoon out enough for him to say yes.
It’s a beautiful day, with not a cloud in sight, but Jeongguk can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Taehyung. He seems to be enjoying himself immensely, eyes blissfully closed and lips upturned in a content smile.
There’s a strange feeling in Jeongguk’s chest. It’s like his chest is expanding rapidly, swelling like a balloon inside, growing and growing and growing until there’s no more space left inside. It hurts in the best way possible and Jeongguk finds himself wondering if this is what it feels like to be in love with someone.
Taehyung, understandably, is intrigued by every tiny little mundane thing they pass, and even has Jeongguk stop the carriage when they pass by several cherry blossom trees lining the road. He hops out, staring up at the trees with an unconcealed amazement for a long, long time, before he bends down and carefully picks up a cherry blossom that’s fallen from one of the trees.
Climbing back into the carriage, Taehyung stares down at the tiny, slightly wilted flower in his lap in awe and looks up at Jeongguk with wide eyes. Jeongguk, with a heart bursting so full of fondness and longing, picks up the flower and tucks it behind Taehyung’s ear.
“Cherry blossoms,” Jeongguk says softly, avoiding Taehyung’s eyes. “Only bloom for a short period every year. They’re meant to represent the beauty of life. Many people visit our kingdom to see these cherry blossoms bloom with their—their lovers.”
When Jeongguk finally looks at Taehyung, Taehyung looks back at him with an unreadable expression, a small, strange smile playing on his lips.
They’re beautiful, he mouths. Jeongguk is quiet for a long time before he opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything he’s interrupted by surprised, excited cheering.
“It’s Prince Jeongguk!”
As the carriage follows the winding roads towards the Main Square, there are more people who are beginning to spot the carriage, excitedly talking amongst themselves and waving enthusiastically at their Crown Prince. Even though there’s been a lot of unrest, it’s clear that they still love and cherish their gorgeous, sexy, amazing prince and Jeongguk feels a rush of happiness as he waves back at his people.
To his immense amusement, Taehyung is waving to everyone just as enthusiastically as Jeongguk—if not more—leaning out of the carriage precariously whilst waving animatedly with both hands. Jeongguk can see the confused faces of the townspeople peering up at them, and he stifles a laugh behind a hand as they start to hesitantly wave back out of politeness.
Taehyung’s a charmer though, and the awkward waving melts into a bewildered, yet accepting enthusiasm and soon the people are waving back just as eagerly back to Taehyung, Jeongguk pretty much forgotten, which doesn’t sting even the tiniest bit. Nope.
It’s endearing though, and Jeongguk leans back in the carriage, content with watching Taehyung wave happily to his people. It’s a strange, bittersweet moment. It fills Jeongguk with an aching sort of longing, a feeling that rips into his chest and stitches it up all the same.
Watching Taehyung, being with Taehyung, makes Jeongguk forget, even for a second, that he is Prince Jeon Jeongguk of Busan, a prince who must and who will marry another prince for the sake of uniting their kingdoms, a prince with crushing burden and responsibilities placed on his shoulders, a prince expected to lead an entire nation of people.
Because being with Taehyung makes him feel like Jeon Jeongguk, the boy who likes swimming and horse-riding. Being with him makes him feel warm and loved and allows him to pretend, even for just a fleeting moment, that he and Taehyung could have a future together.
