Archive of Our Own

The sun is too bright today, Yoongi mused to himself. He watched from the corridor of the castle training grounds, deep crimson robes swaying in the light breeze that carried itself amongst the shaded brown stones of the walls. Long since has past when he wished desperately to be out there in the field with them, gazing upon his half-cousins engaging in swordplay to better their skills in the art of defense and offense. He much preferred to hone his skills on his own, alone without the presence of judging family or servants. Yoongi’s hands were rather soft, while theirs were noticeably more callous if one looked close enough, full of years of handling the hilt of a sword and practicing hours on end every day.

Watching them, he brought his hands together and felt pinched fingertips from secret lessons in the mornings where he would sneak out of his chambers and have his knight take a bow and a quiver of arrows from the castle armory. It was forbidden for him, a bastard second son of the king, to train. It was so easy to feel useless in this place. Perhaps that’s why he decided to pick up at least some form of defense in the past few weeks, just needing to do something that made him feel like his father’s son as he got older… It was the only sort of training that wouldn’t make his bones and muscles ache—he wasn’t used to the movement of the sword, or the swing of the axe.

And so, Yoongi waited. Waited for his cousins to stop their mindless swinging and the clacking steel against loose armor. It was a few hours after dawn, and they were to finish soon with no other soul in sight when they left save for Yoongi and his knight who assisted him in his training. Even if it was for such a measly amount of time in a day compared to other princes in the realm for practice, it meant a lot to him.  

There were no room for bastards in this castle.

The servants never quite took a liking to him, scurrying off with blank looks on their faces when he approached to ask for some wine or food, or even to ask of the days weather or events. The family that visited and the family that lived here hated him more so than the servants. Believing him to be the one that cursed the blood line, the one that will continue messing up the lineage of the great house of Min.

His father, King Min, and his older brother and crown prince Seokjin were the only ones who were different from the rest.

In his stupor of thought, he failed to hear the clanging of swords and the grunts and hollers of his cousins stop, rather just the adjusting of metal as if one was walking. He looked up to see what had changed.

“If it isn’t the bastard son,” his cousin Hanuel announced, sliding his sword into the hilt at his belt and smirked, crooked front teeth on show and muddy brown hair filled with grease and sweat.

Mildly distracting, Yoongi thought. He sighed out loud. It was the only answer they deserved from him.

“Care for a sparring with one of us?” Daejung, his other cousin, joined in.

“You know damn well I can’t,” Yoongi grunted, eyes narrowing in anger and he shifted his foot, his robes gliding across the stone flooring and making a swish from the movement.

He didn’t have time for this nonsense. They were fucking around with him like they always did, but he guessed it was partly his fault since he stood there observing for once. It was rule of the court that bastards were in no position to grab a sword from a royal by blood to train with it. If they were caught trying to do so, well, it wasn’t pleasant news. The choices they had were slim—become a whore for the palace, head south to try to weasel your way into a merchant’s trade business, a fisherman, or escape to a remote village, living like the poorest to try to survive (most didn’t, however. Take the story of the queen’s bastard cousin for example, the one that you heard whispers about in the corridors. That said cousin’s head rolled onto the marble of his fathers keep nine weeks after he was exiled, the body nowhere to be found. Yoongi never did find out what happened to the head, though.)

To try to prevent the bastards from an uprising as a response to how they were treated, a preventative measure was what they liked to call it.

Yoongi’s seen horse shit that looked more pristine than that excuse.

“Aw come on, there are many things we can teach you!” Hanuel stepped forward and grabbed his upper arm, jerking him from the shadows. He lowered his voice, the nasty smile never leaving. “So get your ass out there and let us show you how it’s done.”

Yoongi ripped his arm from out Hanuel’s grasp. “You want me killed and I’m having none of this! Go fuck yourself, my dear cousin. I’ve no time for your sick games, leave me alone.”

Daejung clicked his tongue, pressing it into his cheek as he looked Yoongi up and down. “Strong words for such a weak little boy.”

Little boy (he’s not a little boy! He’s a prince that’s lived in this castle for twenty-seven years), little good for nothing prince, the child whose mother didn’t even love him and left him, (“is he even a prince? He looks nothing like his father, his hair is too dark and sleek from the kings, our king is too grand and too nice for bringing in another man’s bastard and trying to put it off as his own”).

Yoongi brought his hands together, the sleeves of his robes covering them and clenched his fist so his cousins could not see. He’s heard all of this before, it never ends.

“You may be the king’s son, but you are still half of royal blood and you are not allowed to speak to us like that,” Haneul seethed, and Yoongi heard it when he gritted his teeth.

“My father is the highest power in the land, and your father is what, three steps down from that? Your uncle is the hand, even above your own father—try better, cousin,” Yoongi said, standing up straighter. He refused to be pushed around, not when the day started off so well and he was looking forward to his lessons from his knight.

“Watch your fucking tongue,” Hanuel growled, and Yoongi heard the unsheathing of something at the back of his belt.

Yoongi swallowed. Perhaps… perhaps he let his mouth run too much. But he refused to back down, it had to be only a threat.

Daejung looked over at the sound as well, eyes widening and then his mouth settling into a smirk. “You’re done for.”

These were the cousins that had the shortest temper, the ones that acted often without thinking for all their decisions in life—no wonder his father requested them to leave in a fortnight for reasons he would not disclose to him.

“You don’t deserve to have your fathers name,” Hanuel said, inching forward, and Yoongi, damn his instincts, stepped back until he hit the wall, a gulp audibles in his throat when he seen a dagger come into view. The hilt gold and silver with specks of jewels embedded into it. Engravings of the house sigil, a roaring long dragon, on the hard, sharp steel. This was not a combat dagger… this was a ceremonial dagger and here his cousin was, threatening him with it when it had been blessed specially by the holy church. This was blasphemy.

“D-don’t come near me,” Yoongi let out, tilting up his head to show defiance. “You say I don’t deserve my name, but you do not deserve the Min name either. Dare you point a sacred dagger at me and curse another with the same blood inside of you.”

“Same blood, my ass!” Hanuel yelled, rushing forward and putting the dagger inside of Yoongi, the blade cutting through his robes like freshly churned butter. But it was due to the thickness of the robes that it stopped the dagger from coming in to the hilt.

Yoongi felt an explosion of pain ripping into his skin, the impact to his muscle, and he yelled out. He… couldn’t believe…

He bowed his head to look at it. The sight gruesome as blood started to stain his robes a darker crimson around the dagger.

“We will never have the same blood. Worthless, is what you are,” Haneul spat, removing the dagger from his stomach and sheathing it quickly behind him. With one final blow, he slammed Yoongi into the wall. And he nearly collapsed right then and there.

“Let’s go Dae.”

The ringing in his ears prevented him from listening to the retreating steps of his assaulters.

“Ah… ah,” Yoongi gasped, felt the paining spreading throughout his stomach, the tears stinging at his eyes as he grasped and grasped at his stomach, more blood coming up every time he looked down at his hands. Was it truly coming out this much, or was his mind deceiving him? Was it the pain making it a delusion? When the sights he saw started to spin from the panic and his hand in front of him became a slight blur, he tried to brace himself on the wall, but the weight of his body dragged him down until he was left laying on his side, digging at the ground with one hand and pressing into his wound with the other.

He hadn’t ever experienced this before—sure he had been beaten a few times, tripped, slapped on the back of his head and slapped on the hand, but a dagger coming into his stomach was entirely new.

It hurt so much. So much. He couldn’t call out for help for no one would come over for him, the bastard son. The goddamn bastard son! The area was clear, as well. Yoongi knew that for a fact.

But, there was only one person who gave a damn about his life, but he wasn’t with him… why wasn’t he here with him yet?

““… J-Jungk--”

/

Jungkook smiled. Reaching down to stroke at the bow, freshly polished and commissioned just for the prince. His prince. Yoongi would not be able to contain his excitement, always having to resort to using one of the old misshapen bows and aged arrows in the armory that had been used constantly by the guards and soldiers passing through the castle—Jungkook included.

Oh, he longed to see a good expression grace his lord’s face when he arrives at the training grounds that were just around the corner… Yoongi must have been waiting for him a long time. It was enough for him to step up the pace of his steps.  

Someone ran into his shoulder, jostling his armor. It was enough force to stop him, but not enough to bruise. Jungkook stumbled slight and glanced.

“Well if it isn’t the bastard son’s knight,” a cocky voice raised, but the tone in his voice stated he was anything but surprised. The smile dropped from the knight’s face; cautious eyes and pulled brows took its place.

“Lord Hanuel, Lord Daejung.” Jungkook bowed. No matter if he disliked them for the way they treated his lord, it was not in his place to outright disrespect them. He wants to serve his lord with a head on his shoulders, not from the dead.

“How are you faring today, our dear Sir Jeon Jungkook of Lord Yoongi?” Lord Daejung said, a smirk pulling at his thin, chapped lips. Daejung looked at what Jungkook held in his hands, and the knight instinctively hardened his grip. “Oh? Special training equipment? I didn’t know you excelled in archery.”

“I am quite alright, Lord Daejung. And no, cannot say that I do… so what better opportunity than to work on it,” Jungkook replied, facing the lords in a more direct manner. He observed the way the lords held themselves and found it peculiar that there were deep stains of something on the tunics under their practice armor. As a knight, he was no stranger to rough training days. “I do apologize, but time is of the essence. If I may leave, I must return these to the grounds,” Not even waiting for a response, Jungkook gestured to what he was holding and bowed once more, turning swiftly on his heels and walking the rest of the corridor.

“Have your prince come join us for dinner tonight, it would be an honor!” Hanuel yelled down the hall, prompting a sigh from Jungkook who just wanted to be out their overbearing presence and their haughty laughs. He wouldn’t inform his prince of this interaction. Meaningless chatter was meaningless, anyway.

Jungkook peeked around the corner, trying not to alert anyone else of his presence since the bow was supposed to be a secret, after all. But--

It’s blood on the walls that let him know something was amiss—he seen the blood before he seen the body.

The body?  

The bow and quiver of arrows drop to the floor in a loud thunk.  

All he could do was run as he recognized the way the hair fell, the way his body curved, it could be no one else.  

Jungkook leaned next to Yoongi, frantically putting his fingers to his throat to search for a pulse, gulping at the blood pooling underneath him and eyeing the other’s hand pressing into his abdomen. He sighed in relief when he felt a definite hum of a heartbeat, but he had to work fast.

“My lord, my lord, please, please stay with me,” Jungkook pleaded, putting his hands on the prince’s shoulder to try to get him to sit up. A soft groan was emitted through Yoongi’s lips, and his eyes fluttered open.

“Jungkook? You… you came,” Yoongi whispered, for he looked as if he did not have the energy to raise his voice to any level higher.

Jungkook hushed him, softly, “Don’t talk, you will exhaust yourself even more. Show me where you’re hurt, I must take you somewhere to get treated. We-we have to go to the infirmary, a doctor, anything.”

“I’m,” Yoongi coughs out, and Jungkook was relieved to find that it was only from saliva gathering in the back of the throat, “here...” Yoongi pointed at the obvious; the stomach, and he opened his palm to show how much blood has left.

Jungkook clenched his fists. Lord Yoongi did not deserve this.

Without hesitation, Jungkook turned Yoongi around to lay him a bit more comfortably while he put his hands underneath his thighs and under his arms, picking him up to carry him. Yoongi let out a sharp gasp from evident pain.

“I am so sorry, my lord, but I have to get you out of here and quick,” Jungkook said, gripping him unto his chest more tightly and making sure he was secure.

“It’s alright, Jungkook,” Yoongi whispered, “do what you must.”

His lord turned his head up softly, leaning against his shoulder and putting his hand on his chest as he looked up at him, those brown eyes he feared he would find lifeless meeting his own, and his fingertips making almost paw-like motions as if he were trying to grab hold of something. When it didn’t suffice, Yoongi’s hand found his neck and he could feel cold wetness rubbing into his skin—his lord’s own blood. Jungkook swallowed harshly, and held him ever more closer to his body, wanting to protect him from anything that came in their way, from any attackers that may be coming back to finish the job.

“Do not take me to the infirmary, I want to rest in my chamber. Please,” Yoongi said, and although Jungkook wanted to attest to how it wasn’t such a good idea, and he needed utmost medical attention. But, when he thought of who could possibly do this, who all was in on this, who was out for the prince, he found himself in a whirlwind of confusion.

Eventually, Jungkook gave in and nodded. “As you wish, my lord. I will send the doctor to your chamber, and you cannot stop me from doing that, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t even think of stopping you,” Yoongi murmured, giving up and looking back down at Jungkook’s chest.

The robes that were once so beautiful and such a deep crimson contrasted wonderful with his pale skin, was torn and ripped and hanging as he carried him, almost wrapping around his legs. The walls of the outside courtyard turned into the stones of the inner castle and when the light of day faded into shadows, all you could hear was his armor from walking and the soft pants emitting from Yoongi.

There was something bubbling underneath the panic that was settling in Jungkook’s chest, something much more sinister, something uncontrollable. He wanted to find whoever did this and send them to the seven hells himself.

/

When they reached Yoongi’s chamber,  it was a bit of a struggle trying to get the door open but he managed, sliding the rest of the way into the room with his foot holding the door. Holding onto Yoongi more firmly, he walked quickly to the one of the embroidered long armchairs by the window, setting him in a laying position with his head propped up. If he put him on the bed, then the doctor would surely make a mess of his sheets after he was treated. He wanted his lord to sleep after all of this was done, not have to wait for another servant to take their time setting up more sheets. The chair would have to do for now.

“Stay there, my lord, I have to open the door and call for a servant to get someone in the medical quarters. I won’t leave you for long,” Jungkook said, leaning down to make sure Yoongi heard him.

“Wine,” Yoongi said instead.

Jungkook was confused. “Wine? What do you mean?”

“I mean, get me the wine on that table over there,” Yoongi answered, opening his eyes. “Something to get me through this pain until someone comes.”

“I,” Jungkook starts, but Yoongi intercepts.

“Wine, Jungkook.” Yoongi could barely raise his voice, but it was apparent that it was an order. Jungkook rushed to follow, stepping over to the side table and pouring the wine into a golden goblet. He ran back and gave it to Yoongi, wrapping his hands around Yoongi’s shaking one. ensuring it wouldn’t drop.

When Yoongi put it up to his mouth, he drank and drank until there wasn’t a single drop and threw the goblet to the side when finished.

Jungkook gazed at the wound on his abdomen, fingers hovering but never touching for fear of causing pain. He concluded with a breath of air that it wasn’t deep enough to be life threatening, but he still ran the risk of bleeding out and dying and he would never allow his lord to die in his hands, not after making it this far. “Don’t move, my lord. I will be right back.” 

/

When the knight returned to Yoongi’s chambers, he found him resting with his eyes closed, a bit of his robe being used as makeshift tourniquet. At least he didn’t move… much. Jungkook approached the chair where he lay.

“You should have not left me to go do… whatever it was that you were doing,” Jungkook murmured, watching him from above. Yoongi’s eyes peaked open. “You are the second prince! You almost died without me by your side.”

Yoongi shifted upwards, letting out a slight hiss and Jungkook lurched forward. “What did I say!”

“It doesn’t matter, in the end,” Yoongi said, under his breath, “nothing I am or do matters in this castle.”

 But—

Jungkook heard.

He shifted and got down on his knee, kneeling to his prince.  

“You matter to me,” he whispered. “You have no idea what your life has come to mean to me. You are my lord, my master, and I am your knight until you order me away or kill me yourself. I serve and answer to no one but you, not even your queen.”

With his head bowed, he didn’t see Yoongi reach his hand out until he felt it in his hair and he held his breath with every soft as silk stroke, fingers tangling in the black locks.  

“How foolish,” Yoongi hummed, “the queen would kill you if she heard that, Sir Jungkook.”

Jungkook looked up then, resting his hand on Yoongi’s thigh, ensuring that he was truly still with him. That his lord was there, and surely, he was. Solid flesh and bone and gentle skin.

“My lord—”

A loud bang from the chamber door slamming open pulled him out of his trance. He ripped his hand from Yoongi’s leg, the movement making Yoongi’s fingers fall out of his hair, and he turned around, getting up from the floor and standing tall.

“Quickly, quickly move out of the way! I have to treat the prince,” one of the doctors with two medical assistants with carts from the infirmary came rushing in.       

Immediately, Jungkook moved out of the way, letting them do their job and heal the prince. He stood by the door, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms, watching as they worked, stripping him of his royal clothes and stitching and cleaning and putting oils all over his body to numb and to treat him.

Despite knowing he wouldn’t die, Sir Jungkook had his worries. He always worried for his prince, his situation with the royal family. That was the reason why he was here, protecting him from harm and yet, he had failed him today. He let him go away on his own, thinking he would be alright.

Jungkook promised himself there in the lord’s chambers to never again let this happen. His heart just simply couldn’t bear it.

/

“Assistants will come and replace the bandages later in the evening when the sun goes down, so in the meantime make sure he gets plenty of rest after this. I will leave some ointments in the cart over here for the time being in case an emergency arises and a servant must reapply it, but for now we must allow it to soak into the wound and assist the stitches,” the doctor explained, scratching at his beard that was black and speckled with grey from age. There was a curve to his back as he left the room, medical robes dirty and a bit frayed at the ends, but Jungkook has known him for years and knows that he was kind, despite appearances. Jungkook nodded in thanks as he departed, waiting for the moment they left the room to check up on Yoongi and see their work. He walked up to the dark wooden door beforehand, and made sure to lock it, not wanting anyone else to come and possibly hurt Lord Yoongi.

Not knowing where to start, he approached him slowly. Yoongi lie there almost naked, save for his own trousers and the wrapping around the lower torso. His breathing was even, and he looked less pale. Jungkook smiled in relief.

“The doctor prescribed you rest… would you like me to gather your night clothes or would you prefer a servant, my lord?” Jungkook asked, hoping he wanted him to stay.

“That would be just fine, Jungkook. No shirt, just some pants,” Yoongi said, eyes fluttering open and his eyelashes casting shadows over his cheeks from the sun shining in dimly from the window beside him.

“As you wish.”

Jungkook walked over to the armoire, finding something he knew the other would deem comfortable enough, for he knew his lord was a lover of many soft fabrics. The pants were a black silk in high quality that he carried to lay out on the bannister bed in the middle of the room.

When he turned back around to head back over to Yoongi, he found him already looking at him. Exhaustion was dripping at the seams of his every inch of his face.

“I… don’t think I can make it to the bed myself,” Yoongi said, a slight color forming at the tops of his cheeks. Jungkook thought to himself, that he had no reason to be embarrassed at the subtle request.

“No worries at all, please let me help you.” Jungkook’s expression to him was warm, he wanted to be all the warmth in the world to him for the lack of it he knew.

Already for the second time in the day, he lifted Yoongi up in his arms and held him close, as there was no way he was going to allow him to limp to the bed and risk falling and injuring himself any further. This was the only way Jungkook felt comfortable doing, and the quietness Yoongi exerted while doing so made him feel… quite a peculiar way. It was not an unwelcome feeling.

The bed easily fit four people, that much was certain by the sheer size of it. The thick duvet was made of gold, black, and red fabrics, with gold silken drapes running down the canopy on both sides. The rest of the room was just as regal, open windows almost running floor to ceiling and leaving a cool wind to enter the room, ensuring it never got too hot. It was fitting for his prince, always able to look out onto the castle and its people, but never able to reach out and welcome it into him, for it never welcomed him.

He laid the prince down, making sure to be the most careful he thought he could ever be in his entire life.

“I will dress you now my lord,” Jungkook said lowly, he reached forward to start undoing his trousers, and went red to the ears at the thought of not having asked. “Oh, I’m so sorry… may I undress you first, then?”

Yoongi lifted himself up as much as he could, sitting almost fully upright but making sure not to put pressure on the core of his body. He reached forward to unlace his pants, pulling his pants down as much as he could on one side with. “You may, the other side is trickier for me… I trust you know how to put trousers on, Sir Jungkook? Can I leave you to it? I am… quite tired.”

There wasn’t a single lie to be detected on Yoongi’s face, so Jungkook got to work and pulled the trousers down the rest of the way, leaving his under garments on. Reaching for the night pants, he slipped them up creamy legs, smooth to the touch. He pulled the strings tighter around his hips, but not too tight. “Is this alright?”

Yoongi made a noise in his throat.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable in that armor? I haven’t seen you take it off at all, not once today. It is warm,” Yoongi said, his hand fisting at the silken material of his pants, rubbing at it like it was his only small comfort. “You’re not leaving the room for the rest of the day since you are watching over me… you can feel free to remove them.”

Jungkook smiled, knowing that the prickly way he stated it was just a way to show he cared. “It actually is quite hot, thank you, Lord Yoongi.”

He removed his sword from his belt, walking over and placing it to the side of the room and removed his guard armor, dropping it all to the floor. This left him in a simple beige tunic with laces untied in the front, exposing only just a bit of his broad chest, and woolen trousers tucked into simple boots.

When he walked back over to the bed, he seen Yoongi gesture for him. Ever since this morning, it was eating and gnawing away at him, he had to ask.

“Tell me who did this to you,” Jungkook said, voice firm and defiant as he loomed over Yoongi, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Please sit with me, Jungkook,” Yoongi said instead, catching him off guard.

Lord Yoongi wanted him to sit next to him on his own bed? A royal bed? This is what someone called inappropriate, it had to be because a knight couldn’t just sit on the bed of his prince. But… it’s what Yoongi wanted, and so he had to obey.

Jungkook shifted a bit, and sat down tentatively next to Yoongi, the difference in their thighs and body so apparent when directly next to each other.

“You already know,” Yoongi started, “all of my family except for my father and my older brother want me dead. All I wanted was to at least feel like I belong, to be able to hold conversations but I cannot even do that. I take one look at my brother and the palace is on fire. But you know all of this.”

Oh, Jungkook knew.

“That’s exactly what happened, someone wanted me dead.”

The look in his eyes broke Jungkook’s heart. “Who.”

Yoongi looked up at him. “Hmm?”

Jungkook seethed, “Who was it?

Yoongi turned his head, fingers fiddling with his pants again.

“You have to tell me who it is! I can’t sit here and do nothing while attempts on your life are going to be made. You almost died today, and I cannot rest until I search and find the people who did this to you. I am your knight and I serve you. I serve to protect you and I can’t even do my damn job, my sworn oath if you don’t tell me.”

Jungkook was gasping for air, the rush of words coming out like a waterfall. The anger he felt in his body, and the panic of thinking about things that he wouldn’t be able to prevent in the future—

“Jungkook, please!” Yoongi interrupted his thoughts that were taking a downturn. “I don’t want you to do anything about this! If you do, it’s too hasty. Things can get very bad very quickly in the castle, then it spreads to the capitol, and then to our enemies. I don’t think I can tell you who did this, not now. Don’t search for them, don’t go make reckless decisions. You are my knight, I need you here with me. I always do.”

Before Jungkook thought of a response, to try to change the lord’s mind, his heart felt like it would stop.

Yoongi gently rested his head on his shoulder, and sighed. “I am so tired.”

Jungkooks heart might actually leap out of his chest. He laid his hand on Yoongi’s that was still playing with the silk, and held it, stroking the skin.

“Jungkook, you’re the only one I can trust in this place. I can’t lose you,” Yoongi whispered, and he sounded so weak. So vulnerable.

“And.. and you are the only one I trust. This by oath I swear,” Jungkook murmured back, turning his head and resting his lips at the top of Yoongi’s forehead, nose brushing into his black as night hair.

Yoong took a deep breath, Jungkook feeling the movement of his chest against him.

Something must be on his mind, Jungkook thought, and a few seconds had passed, but he would not push him, instead closing his eyes and nuzzling closer to make his lord feel comforted.

“What would it mean to you,” Yoongi whispered, turning his head further into the knight. “if I asked to kiss you right in this moment.”

Oh.

Oh, gods.

“I,” Jungkook started, and Yoongi raised his head and he almost wanted him to come back to him, and let him relish in the moment further. Dare he finish his sentence? The lord’s lips were parted, a soft pink to the opening of his mouth and a longing in his eyes.

There was a clenching in his chest at the sight, for he has never seen a man in this castle ever be so endearing, never was there a man that would make him gasp for a fear of swooning like a lady in the court.

“The absolute world,” Jungkook finally answered, letting lose the turmoil in his heart. “from the moment I kneeled to you on the floors of the Great Keep, and you anointed me your knight, I have never known a desire so great then to hold you, my lord. Hold you at night, at daybreak, whenever you were grieving, whenever you were lonely.

“I-I,” Jungkook swallowed, and it was the beginning of droplets in Yoongi’s eyes that made him want to continue, “I would watch you, you know… as a knight does to his lord and that is my duty. I would watch as your older brother patted your hair and assured you of your every worry and I wanted so desperately to be in that place…. I want to be that person to you, but not your brother. I don’t want to be your brother… I want to be something beyond a knight sworn to duty.”

The stinging tears started falling before Jungkook could catch them, quickly lifting his hand up and wiping them away with his sleeve. These were emotions he has tried to put away in a vault deep inside him for years, ever since the day Yoongi saved him.

A hand so comforting came up and wiped them away, and all that filled his vision was the gentle smile on Yoongi’s face, and he let out a raspy, nearly silent laugh that was so distinctly him. “…Who knew my knight could be so soft with me.”

Jungkook brought his hand to Yoongi’s face, cupping his large palm into his supple cheeks and rubbing his skin with this thumb, letting his emotions bleed through with such a simple gesture that was so overwhelmingly affectionate.

Only puffs of breath were separating the two, and wordlessly, Jungkook bent forward and gave him the softest kiss. He felt Yoongi’s hand coming to join his on his cheek, and Jungkook watched as he closed his eyes and leaned into him even more, giving himself almost completely unto him and reaching for another peck.

“Your lips are so lovely,” Yoongi whispered against him.

The second was almost as good as the first. Jungkook found himself quickly wanting more of such a sweetness, and it was mutual by the way Yoongi parted his lips and connected the two of them once more.

His hand dropped so he could gently hold Yoongi’s neck with both hands as they kissed, Yoongi’s own coming up to grab at Jungkook’s tunic and they were inseparable.

The warmth of his lips was delicate as they melted into each other. The drive to go back and back to kiss and to peck and move his lips to the side of his mouth, suckling here and there--it was divine torture on a heavenly level. The taste of seven years waiting, with a touch of sweetness only remnants of wine could hold. Yoongi’s breathing turned into soft gasps and little noises… something burning hot went through Jungkook’s veins, traveling downwards all the way into the tips of his fingers, to the pads of his toes. But Jungkook himself was hardly silent, either; letting slips of moans spill out and roaming hands traveling down to wrap around Yoongi’s waist, being ever so careful to mind the parts that ached. Arms found themselves encircling Jungkook’s neck, spreading across his broad shoulders and almost seeking comfort in the embrace with the way he felt the back arching beneath his palms.

“Be careful,” Jungkook murmured between them, nipping at Yoongi’s lips and leaving a trail of saliva when he stopped his biting and suckled on the lower lip. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself and make yourself bleed again.”

Yoongi laughed, and gods the sound did such sinful things to Jungkook. There wasn’t anything he loved better in that moment. “I will tell you if it’s too much.”

“Mmm, you better.” And the kissing began again.

When Yoongi parted his lips to take his tongue into his mouth, all semblance of control went out through the chamber windows. Jungkook gasped into his mouth, tongue coming to rest undeath Yoongi’s and they slid together, lips a mess of wet and breaths out of sync. He held him ever closer, wrapping his palms even further around his torso and leaned forward until Yoongi fell gently on to the bed on his back, looking up at him with hooded eyes with a glimmer of something unspoken in them.

Blunt nails scratched soothingly along Jungkook’s scalp, fingers petting through his hair. He shivered, bending down to take Yoongi’s lips unto his once more and when he pulled up, letting Yoongi’s hands fall onto the bed sheets, palms open, panting, Jungkook devoured the sight.

Below him was… a dream. The black locks spread around Lord Yoongi’s head like his own personal halo, a few wild strands sticking to his forehead and a blush so lovely spreading up his pale cheeks all the way to his ears, which from the look of how sharp a red they were at the tips of them, that was where the blood was primarily pooling from their intimacy.

“I have never wanted another man so badly as I do in this moment,” Jungkook gasped, running a finger down Yoongi’s chest. He watched as it made gooseflesh appear up his arms, and he had no words when Yoongi’s nipples hardened from getting closer to the buds, continuing his up and down barely-there movements. The space between his thighs became warm, and a tingling sensation appeared. Jungkook swallowed, heavily. Even though they were closer now then ever before, there were things he knew he had to ask for, because he served the man below him and owed him his life, and permission was required no matter how badly he yearned to act on what his mind was screaming at him to do. “I must ask, my lord, may I… have you today?”

Yoongi raised his left hand, letting a finger run down from Jungkook’s temple to his neck, eyes following the motion. “You may have me for however long you want, Sir Jungkook.”

“I-I need to kiss you… can I kiss you again? Can I… Please, let me make you feel good.” Jungkook put his forehead onto his, breathing into his mouth and licking Yoongi’s lips, making Yoongi shiver and nod furiously.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A part inside Jungkook switched then—he put one hand underneath Yoongi’s armpit and the other under his thigh and moved him up the seemingly never-ending bed in such a swift moment, the blankets rumpling and sliding with the two.

After Jungkook was satisfied, a single peck was placed on the lord’s lips, slowly traveling to the sides, caressing his cheeks and placing kiss after kiss in his path. When he reached his ear, he licked and sucked at the place and a mewl reverberated around the room.

“I want to know every inch of you,” Jungkook cooed, making Yoongi shiver from the hot breath tickling his skin. “where are you most sensitive.” Another suck and nip—another high gasp. Jungkook grinned and went further.

When he gazed at Yoongi’s neck, there was only one kind of bruise that would ever be allowed to mar the creamy expanse of beautiful skin ever again, Jungkook promised. Beginning to suck with fervor, he kissed everywhere his lips reached, he let his right hand travel down to rub at Yoongi’s breast, the flat surface smooth and enjoyable to touch.

“Ah,” Yoongi moaned, his voice slightly cracking. He breathed out heavy, inhaled deep and flinched when pain must have spread to his wound. Jungkook felt his hips trying to move and squirm from the delicate pleasure, and he decided to indulge. Anything to take away the pain from this beautiful man he was so lucky to his call his prince.

Kisses were placed in his path as he moved down, eyes closed and lashes fluttering across Yoongi’s skin, and stopped when he reached his other breast. Breathing hotly into the bud, he took it into his mouth flicked his tongue, the heat in his groin responding when he felt Yoongi pushing his breast further into Jungkook’s mouth, moaning in a soft voice. Hands came up to claw at his back and hair, Jungkook sucking even harder at the nipple on his tongue. Sucking and licking at the same time on the one bud, while his other hand, the middle finger and ring finger, rubbed the neglected bud. Back and forth, circling, flicking his tongue even faster, and when Yoongi’s little ah, ah, ahs! became higher, he decided to move his hand circling the nub a bit further, slipping down past the bandage around his abdomen, and cupped at the bulge above the silk pants.

“Nnn,” Yoongi moaned, this time so loudly that all Jungkook could do was groan from the slicking heat pooling even further in his cock from such a response.

With one last suck he pulled away from his nipple, saliva creating a trail from his lips to the bud as he began to rub Yoongi’s cock above the silk, lightly digging his thumb into the tip when he reached the back, spreading his palm over the entirety of his groin. He was pleased with the size of what he could feel through the trousers, thick but not too long. He glanced up at Yoongi and met his eyes, seeing tears clinging to the other’s lashes from sheer satisfaction of being touched.

“Do you like this, my lord?” Jungkook teased, pushing his palm in further and his eyes curved in happiness when Yoongi pushed into his hand and bit his lip, making the pretty pink flesh white under the pressure.

“S-So much,” Yoongi stuttered, letting his head fall back and exposing his beautiful neck that begged to be kissed. But right now, that would have to wait. Removing his hand from his bulge, Jungkook pushed up and got up on his knees, crawling backwards. Bless Yoongi, who was still thriving from the small ministrations done to him, didn’t notice until Jungkook pulled at both underwear and pants down his thighs, picking his head up lethargically.

“Oh, Jungkook,” Yoongi sighed, letting his arms fall from Jungkook so he could rest on his elbows and watch him

“Lift your hips for me,” Jungkook requested, almost shy as he could feel the flush coming to his cheeks.

When Yoongi’s cock sprang free from the loose confines of his night pants, resting almost against his stomach, the head was weeping. Jungkook’s mouth watered at the sight, an urge to dip forward and pull the skin back and lavish it with his tongue and suck his master to the highest level of pleasure. Quickly, he removed the pants from his ankles and threw them somewhere in the room—it mattered not.

“You too,” Yoongi said, and he reached over to tug at Jungkook’s tunic. Jungkook giggled at that.

Not one for wasting any time, he sat up, tugging off his shirt from the shoulders and shaking his head to fix his hair when it was finally off.  He made sure to gaze at Yoongi as he unlaced his trousers, licking his lips softly as he pushed the rest of his clothes down, throwing them off to the side.

Yoongi’s face was an open book at that moment, lips starting to part and usual catlike eyes opening wider, staring down below Jungkook’s waist. His staring was so heavy, and silent that Jungkook started to get a bit shy from it, choosing to lower himself back down and pump at Yoongi’s cock.

“I’m not sure what I was expecting, but you—” Yoongi began, cut off from the sudden pleasure he felt. “it’s like you were made for me.”

Gazing up at him with a sly smile on his face, Jungkook gripped the base of his cock. “Made for you? Tell me how.”

Yoongi groaned, falling back into the sheets and put a hand over his eyes, starting to thrust desperately into Jungkook’s grip. “I’ve only s-seen a cock that perfect in my dreams.”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook moaned, getting closer and gasping at his thighs, turning his nose into the skin and starting to kiss at it. Sucking and leaving marks and bruises that would last Yoongi the rest of the week or maybe even longer, if Jungkook prayed enough.

“I like that, I like that so fucking much,” Yoongi cursed, other hand coming to tangle itself in Jungkook’s hair, stroking it.  

His name. If Jungkook wasn’t in the throws of pleasure, he would have gotten down on his knees and begged for forgiveness of using his name without a title. How could he let something so important slip past his stupid mind! But… but Lord Yoongi liked it? To the point of cursing it out.  

Yoongi was not the only one who liked that, there’s a surge of emotion in Jungkook’s chest and he couldn’t take it anymore, and took Yoongi into his mouth, his hands coming to grip the shaft and exposing his head underneath the foreskin. Saltiness exploded on his tongue with a hint of musk from the slight sweat, everything Jungkook wanted to taste. The slit of the tip was ripe for the taking, flushed and red, and licked and dug his tongue into it, one hand holding down Yoongi’s hip. They were going to take this slow, not taking the risk of possibly opening his wound, but also he wanted to relish this forever. To remember this moment for the rest of his life.

“Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook,” Yoongi babbled, the little noises from his throat making him want to take him deeper and tease the hell out of him, to drag this out and see a side of him no one else ever would.

He let go of the head after giving it one last suckle, gathering spit and swallowing it with the tip, before kissing down the rest of his cock, licking at the underside and coming back up to dig his tongue right below his flushed, bulbous head. God, what a beautiful man.

Taking a deep breath and popping off with a wet noise, he went down in one full swoop. He took his whole cock all the way until it reached the beginning of his throat and hummed and groaned at the fullness and the feeling of the dark thatch of pubic hair at his nose. If he could do this for the rest of his life, lord knows he would. To protect his prince and to give him pleasure… nothing would be a greater honor than those two things.

Up and down he bobbed his head, swallowing what spit and pre-come came up and only removed his mouth from Yoongi when he started to buck into him, signaling that he was close to his finish and no, no it couldn’t end so quickly!

Jungkook’s lips had to be swollen from the thickness of Yoongi’s length, and he licked what was left around his lips and spread Yoongi’s legs, pushing at the knees.

“I want to devour you,” Jungkook breathed, and came up to kiss him with utmost intensity. Gripping at his cheek like he was going to die if he didn’t (but, he felt it, he swore he felt like he was.)

“Eat me, then,” Yoongi said, wrapping his arm around his neck and pulling him close. “Fill me and eat me, do whatever you want to me--fuck, fuck.”

Yoongi leaded the kiss, tongue coming into his mouth. Spit spilled from the sides of their mouths, but they did not care. All they were aware of was each other in this single chamber, silk sheets rubbing against their bodies like a tender embrace. Jungkook gave Yoongi the taste of his own essence, spreading it onto the buds of his tongue.

“I want to be inside you,” Jungkook purred against his lips, letting his fingers trail down his torso to rest in between his spread legs, one finger ghosting across his perineum. Yoongi jerked from the suddenness of it, turning into face into Jungkook’s and letting their noses rub.

“Come on then, get inside me, fuck me, do anything,” Yoongi cried, evident that he was tired of all the teasing.

Placing one last smoldering kiss, Jungkook got up to retrieve any kind of oil he could find that he deemed safe enough. One was sitting near the perfumes and other necessities on the table Lord Yoongi used as a vanity. He popped it open to ensure it’d suffice, and when it had no odor, he nodded to himself and quickly went back to the bed, crawling up to Yoongi who was trying to grasp at him to get him closer.

“I will--” Jungkook pressed a kiss unto wanton lips, hungry for tasting once more. “get you ready now.”

“Keep here,” Yoongi whispered, “kiss me, Jungkook.”

The sound of their lips separating announced Jungkooks brief departure. “Let me just get some oil on my hand, I’ll be right back.”

He popped off the glass topper of the oil and placed the bottle into his left hand, pouring it onto his right and spreading it between his fingers and coating them generously. When he placed it on the table to the side of the bed, he watched as some of the oil dripped thickly onto the bedding when he lowered his hand to Yoongi’s entrance.

Not forgetting his lord’s order, he came to nibble on his lips, licking into his mouth. They caressed each other, soft kisses mixed with passion and it was never ending as he pushed his middle finger into Yoongi’s most sensitive area.

The keening sounds he made were swallowed by the knight, every moan and hushed Jungkook dissolving into pants and rasped breaths.

One finger turned into two (and Jungkook didn’t muster the energy to even comment how adding more fingers made Yoongi’s legs spread wider, as if he were offering himself completely unto him) and soon he made sure to stretch him out until the teasing became too much. Yoongi back soon rested, sighs telling Jungkook that he’s relaxed and ready.

He removed his fingers deliberately slow, the squelch of the oil dragging and leaving his hole filled the near silence amongst the two of them, along with the pounding of Jungkook’s heart. Leaning up slightly, he wrapped his hand around his cock with a low moan, pumping it until the length was coated with the remainder of the oil.

Their gazes met when Jungkook started to put his cock into him, biting his lip and exhaling shakily as it inched deeper and deeper into the burning heat, becoming impossibly harder while he listened through the buzzing in his ears as Yoongi clenched and made little noises of pleasure they further in he went. When his hips met Yoongi’s inner thighs, buried in completely, Jungkook collapsed his elbows beside Yoongi’s head, his lips parted and he groaned from the sensation of being enveloped in something so delicious.

“My lord, you take me so well,” Jungkook whimpered, placing his forehead onto Yoongi’s. That was something everyone found admirable about Sir Jeon Jungkook; through everything that happened in the castle, in battle, through defending the one he served, his honesty was true and steadfast. Even this moment… words came tumbling out in a babble, not even thinking of a single lie and expressing what passed through his mind with no hint of hesitation. The slide inside was so easy, and surely Yoongi wanted this as badly as he did from how perfect it felt being inside of him… having the man below him make these beautiful noises and mewls and moans all because of him. The feeling in his groin pulsed with the thoughts, and he rocked his hips, barely removing an inch of his cock out of his fluttering entrance before sliding it back in, kissing Yoongi softly while he did so.

“I-I’ve always wanted you to do this to me,” Yoongi cried out, putting one leg over Jungkook’s and raising it to clutch to his hip. Jungkook felt his toes curling at the back of his knees, the quivering in Yoongi’s thighs from the pleasure—he thrusted in more quickly this time, moaning at the confession released from Yoongi’s tongue. “So strong, but so gentle, fuck—I take you so well, I do, I do--the best, right? I take you the best.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Jungkook choked. Opening his eyes, he stared into Yoongi’s. He pulled at Yoongi’s lip, biting it harder as his hips started to go faster, releasing it and sucking at the reddened flesh from the bite. Yoongi liked the biting, it seemed, from how he opened his mouth freely to let him do as he wanted. Yoongi clawed at his back, pushing him further into him and whispering against his lips in murmurs for him to go faster, faster, harder, harder, harder.

The sensations in his hips and cock was glorious, he wanted to meld right into Yoongi and stay there forever. The heat comforting and… gods, it felt wondrous. Without even thinking, he reached down and brought Yoongi’s hand up beside their heads to grasp it and hold it tightly, fingers in between each other in an unbreakable grip. Nails dug into his knuckles.

There was a part of him that knew he shouldn’t be doing this while Yoongi was injured, with every thrust he bared mind to the wrapping around the other’s abdomen, but the tensions were high and the emotion of almost losing Yoongi who’s so important brought everything to a standstill the moment their lips met.

His hips soon became erratic with his pounding, sounds of skin slapping and choked moans spurring him to keep going and going. He knew he wouldn’t be lasting long with how Yoongi started to show his desperation, trying to meet his hips with every thrust and chasing after promised ecstasy.

“Gimme’” Yoongi slurred, putting his lips on Jungkook’s cheek and leaving wet trails as he stuck his tongue out and spread open-mouthed kisses everywhere he reached. “Gimme’ your s-seed, love.”

Love. He… he called Jungkook love. He was his love? Oh, what a way to drive Jungkook truly mad!

“I’m not gonna’ last long if you talk like that,” Jungkook said, almost gasping.

“You don’t have to last long,” Yoongi moaned. “Why fuck if you can’t come.”

“Y-you’re dirtier than I thought you would be, my lord,” Jungkook admitted, humor in his tone, and turned his head towards him, legs spread out and knees bent as far as they could go as he slammed his cock further into that tight heat.

“Only because I finally have you how I’ve always w-wanted you,” Yoongi said, the words unsteady and messy from the movement of Jungkook’s hips connecting with his own.

“I’m gonna’, ah, I’m gonna come, oh, ohh,” Jungkook moaned while pounding his cock into him a few more times until he gave him his seed, tingles spreading fire all over his body as he filled him up as much as he could and pushed his come further into his hole with every thrust.

“Love this so much, l-love you, I love—love,” Jungkook was speaking nonsense, wasn’t he? He couldn’t think about what was coming out of him, only that he had to. There was so much of his come leaking out of Yoongi’s hole and he had to keep going, weakly thrusting as the aftershocks of his orgasm rocked through him.

He moved the hand that wasn’t holding Yoongi’s, leaning up on the one that was, and started stroking Yoongi’s cock, the sudden touch making him jerk and cry out, and he frantically started humping into it.

“That’s it, Yoongi,” Jungkook cooed, his cock becoming sensitive and soft inside of him, but he wanted this to be the best Yoongi has ever gotten, he wouldn’t stop now even if there was hardly any power behind each push into him.

Yoongi climaxed with his lips pressed together, a hum coming from deep in his throat in a loud mmm. If Jungkook hadn’t just came himself, his cock surely would become hard again from the sight and the sensation on Yoongi’s thick cock still sliding in between his hands and warm come splashing onto his fingers.

“Beautiful,” Jungkook whispered, watching in awe as Yoongi’s scrunched eyes opened and he parted his lips to stare up at him.

Yoongi unclasped his fingers from Jungkook’s and brought his other hand up to cup his cheeks and lifted his head to kiss him, leaving Jungkook breathless. There was no tongue, no desperation—it was only tender and soft, barely-there. It took a moment for Jungkook to return it, but when he did he pursed his lips and tilted his head to slowly move his lips amongst Yoongi’s.

When they parted, Yoongi exhaled and rested his forehead on Jungkook’s. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good,” and let out a shaky laugh.

“Me too,” Jungkook said, and nuzzled his nose because he could. Finally.

Yoongi laid back down, his leg releasing from Jungkook’s hip, both thighs falling open and leaving him exposed with Jungkook’s cock still in him. He slowly began to remove himself, the outside of the hole clinging onto the head of his length as he exited. He was so sensitive that he moaned—but not from a type of pleasure, a sort of uncomfortableness but he wouldn’t say that it was bad.

White smears draped over his hand and he decided to wipe it on the sheets underneath him, not caring much because they’re just going to be washed and replaced come morning.

“Now you need some rest for sure, my lord,” Jungkook said with a giggle, getting up from the bed and heading to the pillows, pulling down the sheets so he could tuck the prince in. “Let’s move you up, hmm?”

“I can move myself,” Yoongi said haughtily, and when he sat up, he let out a curse of pain. “I… guess I can do other things just fine except try to do something completely normal.”

Jungkook smiled. “That’s how it usually goes.”

Jungkook came over and helped him get up from the bed, the prince edging over until he turned to the side to lie down and faced forward again, head resting on the goose-feathered pillows. Jungkook pulled the sheets over and made sure his naked body was covered and comfortable.

“Rest now, prince,” Jungkook murmured, brushing back hair from his forehead.

“Are you not going to join me?” Yoongi said, eyebrows furrowing and staring up at Jungkook in what looked like shock.

Jungkook gulped—his heart started to thump in his chest and it was going to get his hopes up and he begged it in his mind to stop. Oh, he truly wished to join his lord in the bed, after joining in an act so intimate and sensual.

“Would… would you like me to?” Jungkook asked, shyly. Hope sparkled in his eyes.

“Of course I do! Jungkook… are we not lovers now?” Yoongi gazed up at him, as if all the answers Jungkook seeked were there.

Lovers…

Oh.

Oh, Jungkook understood then, he thought.  

You see, there were many things Jungkook had experienced in his life, and there were things he most certainly hadn’t. He has had partners in bed, never serious because the lifestyle they lived, a life as a knight, becoming serious with people in a profession and duty such as him was blasphemous. The only love he’d experienced in all his twenty-four years was the love of his mother before she left the world of the living. He’d never known his father, some craftsman in a nearby city killed by raiders of an opposing faction. What he did know, however, was the pain of losing someone you love as family and observing the grief of losing someone you were in love with.

He never thought it possible to share these emotions with the one he served—it wasn’t allowed, practically forbidden, especially since this is his prince, not some noble that was distant relative to the royal family, true royalty even if it was muddled with commoner blood alongside the kings.

He didn’t care about all of that.

How would he live with himself if he let duty interfere with accepting his lord’s heart and orders? That was his duty now, forbidden intimacy by law be damned.

“I will be your lover, forever until you shoo me away or tire of me,” Jungkook said, the decree strong and unwavering. He smiled as he got onto the bed and gently peeled open the covers to join alongside the prince in bed, letting his arm come under Yoongi’s head to hold him close to his chest.

He whispered, “I’ll take care of your heart, my lord. I won’t let it go.”

Yoongi snuggled into him at that and turned slightly to his side to let a part of his back rest alongside Jungkook’s bare body, Jungkook making sure he avoided pressing into his injury. When he was comfortable, he wrapped his arm lightly around his throat, putting his lips into his hair and his other arm resting on his hip.

Jungkook looked down and seen a smile gracing Yoongi’s face, ever so gentle. He never knew an expression conveyed so many emotions.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you for saving me today,” Yoongi said eventually, his hand coming up to hold the arm around his neck.

“Ssh, what I did doesn’t need to be thanked. I was doing my job,” Jungkook replied, pressing his nose into Yoongi’s hair and sniffed, a note of lavender and vanilla peeking through from a bath earlier this morning. “It is my duty to protect you, but it is also my duty to… to help the man I love.”

Jungkook heard the lord’s breath catch in his throat. He turned his head to him then, tears filling those beautiful eyes. “No one’s ever… ever said they loved me like this. I don’t want you to feel obligated to return whatever feelings I have left in my heart, just because I am your prince. But, perhaps I am selfish… I want only your love to myself, and I want you to see only me. To make love to only me, to do everything it is that only queens and kings and promised are meant to do in this castle.”  

“Love, don’t cry,” Jungkook whispered, bringing a thumb up to his cheeks and wiping away a stray tear that’s fallen. He moved his hands up and down the side of Yoongi’s body, massaging his skin when he reached thighs, and pressed three languid kisses to his temple. “The world is full of fools who don’t see the love in you like I do. To lie to you would mean I put my head under the guillotine—I would put it there myself. I promise you, I love you.” Another kiss to his cheeks. “I promise.” And held him tighter.

Yoongi pressed his lips to Jungkook’s wrist that neared his head from where he held him, words of affection unspoken but understood.

/

They had plenty of time to memorize the planes of their bodies, the exact curves, and what made their spines arch.

But, once you get a taste of what all you’d been missing for so many years, you want it again and again until your desires are satiated.

In the period of what had been for rest, hungry hands searched shoulders and grabbed hold; a smaller, leaner body came on top and sank into him, mounting him, taking all that he had to give. Not even a harp or lute matched the melodies rolling off the tongue.

Leaning forward until they were chest to chest, thighs shaking and giving out from the exertion, the hands underneath embraced him and stroked his back, coming up to rake fingers through his hair as breathless moans filled his ears.

Yoongi began to know.