Chapter Text
Time means everything, to Doyoung.
Since he’d been a kid, staring at the clock during breaks until the bells rang, running back to class. Running for practice, running from his brother, running to his tutor. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. It kept going on and on, and somehow skies went dark and then alight, days went by in a breeze. His childhood had been condensed within the lavish halls of the palace, the outside world a luxury to visit.
Doyoung’s brother had still sneaked him out in the middle of the night when everyone had gone to bed, and yet their world had continued to tick. Staring up from the rooftop at the skies, dark and endless, a billion twinkling set of stars that he’d point out, connecting shapes and images and building stories about centuries before. Ones Doyoung could barely keep track of, but remembered nonetheless. Ones Doyoung had thought, over and over, how myths and legends of people that did not even have ink and paper lived beyond their lives.
Time.
And Doyoung had understood, during those nights, that it was all in one’s hands, to make the most of it.
🍑
“Why?” he scowls, “mother I do not need to come.”
“You have become an insolent child,” she pinches his cheeks, “if you are like this are prince, what will you be after you become king? May god save us all.” He rolls his eyes at her dramatics. She bustles here and there, fixing his hair and then his coat as if he does not have a million servants for this very reason.
“Is appearance so important?” he asks, exasperated, “it is a funeral.”
“And they were a dear to your father. A dear to the council! Just because their glory is not as it once had been, does not mean it is forgotten.” She steps back, assessing him over, “okay then. We will be leaving in—“
“Twenty minutes, yes I know mother. You should rather check on your own husband.”
“Really,” she shakes her head, “no manners.” He snorts, before checking himself in the mirror. The white coat, golden trims and badges, two medals over his left chest. He glances over at the door, making sure his mother’s put sight, before hurrying over to his drawers.
There. His scent blocker. It’s not as strong as some other ones, but it dulls it enough. The last thing he wants are his pheromones flooding the air.
It’s not necessarily a short trip—or a long one. A day by ship, before they reach Vilane. A kingdom once part of the council, before they had fallen out after being unable to reach the standards to stay. One he’s heard stories about from his father, of the golden days, when the five of the council would unite for causes and aids greater than merely just their own territories. In all honesty, after his brother had been married off to an alpha from the Helios Empire, he’d been too caught in the upcoming schedules and preparations regarding his own coronation to really pay much mind to the news.
That the king and queen of Vilane, tragically, passed in a blast. Not one directed for them, but caught in the crossfire anyway. If he remembers right they’d only had two kids too, similar to his own family.
He’s not heartless. Of course he’d want to pay respects! It would benefit him more, actually, as future king. But there was just so much work—so many documents to sign, places to visit, and most importantly people to check in on. With everyone gone…gosh, he can just imagine the all-nighters he will have to pull.
But for his parents—well, he can be a little forgiving.
🍑
But only sometimes.
“Mother I would rather marry the Duke of Helios sooner than him,” he says, “how could you even think it beneficial?”
“Must everything come as profit to you?” she chides, ‘it is honourable. And it is best for him to be here—married into a family that will not diminish him or where he comes from.”
Doyoung does not have time for this. He still needs to approve a few reforms of taxes, renovations in the left wing of the palace and the upcoming costs for the winter ball to be held in the latter part of the year. Not to mention send a letter or two to his dearest brother before he thinks he’s forgotten him. “Mother he is from Vilane—a fallen kingdom—“
“He is also an omega, and a perfect one for someone like you.” She interrupts, “calm, down to earth and beautiful. Not high maintenance if you’re worrying. You cannot ascend without at least being engaged—you must give the people a vision of the future you want to rule by your side. And I say Prince Jaehyun is perfect.”
He messages his temples. It’s been what…three weeks? Since his parents have passed? Apparently Princess Sooyoung is in such hurry she is willing to give her brother’s hand to the first person that might even step up front. There is something so utterly disheartening about the offer—is it because her brother is an omega, and she does not want to care or look after him? Take responsibility when he is perfectly of age and capable to do so himself?
He does not know how to bring these points up to his own parents without sounding brash and judgmental. Doyoung has never cared, for status that stems from petty things like these. Their sub genders, or what not. It would not have mattered less if it had been an alpha or beta. It is just…
“I do not think I am ready for marriage,” he admits, sighing. There is a pause. “What—and you will hold it a week before I am crowned? It is just so…” Hasty. And unfair, to his—
Well, apparently, future mate.
The chair scrapes, and then she settles before him. Her age is only in the physical appearance, lines on her face, the frail of her hands. But there’s nothing there to diminish the strength in them—All these years as Queen and yet she’s never wavered. “No one is ready, my dear,” she says, “even those who believe themselves to be. Marriage is the greatest responsibility—to maintain it with dignity and loyalty? Even more.”
She straightens, “and we, as alphas, bear pressure. To uphold the family legacy, to bring further honour to our packs, our kingdoms. But more than that, is the pressure to subvert negative expectations—to control but only in limit, to lead but with kindness before anything else. You have it in you, Doyoung, no doubt.” She contemplates her next words carefully, “but there are some things, that you will fall short on. It is reality; it is human. And that, my dear, is when you’ll realize what a mate actually means.”
He lowers his gaze back down to the table, thinking it over. It’s not wrong, what she says but… “With time, people learn. I had not been great with your father in the beginning either—but he’d fulfilled his duty, and still does. There somewhere in between, was love. Love that gifted me my two brightest stars.” Doyoung bites the inside of his cheek. “And all I want, is for you to experience the same. To have that support, unconditional and strong. We are created in pairs, my dear. And I think, it is time you have finally found yours.”
🍑
It is not a grand affair. At least not to the lengths his father is capable of. Maybe to respect the period of mourning still, for the Jungs.
But the kingdom is buzzing, with life. There is joy in the streets, in the palace grounds. There are processions of people, all eager to catch a glimpse of their crowned prince, with his soon to be consort. Doyoung’s heart is thundering against his chest, and despite the gratitude he feels in his heart for the large attendance of people, he cannot help be nervous.
Marriage.
Goodness, of all things, that had been the least of his priorities. Something to consider when the time came, and now that it has, he can barely think. His mind goes blank, the decorations and music all processed with an undertone of something numb lest it overwhelm him. He breathes, deeply and quietly when they enter the royal aisle, the altar that had been the very same place so many before him had exchanged their vows at, now his to do the same. The room falls silent, when the doors close. There is an anticipation buzzing the air. There is the sound of the crowds outside chanting his name. His mother’s too. Of a new era. One that will be marked by him and how he will lead.
It is…a lot. Doyoung barely hears the footsteps, the murmurs of awed whispers. No, it is only when they are halfway down the aisle, does he glance over, and feels every breath he tried to keep steady, all dissipate into nothing. Knocked out of him, practically.
Jung Jaehyun. Decked in a golden suit, much like his own, a different cut, and a different crest on his breast pocket. His sister arm in arm, his gaze lowered, and yet it does nothing to soften the impact of him up close and cleaned up.
Pale skin, as white as snow. A pinkness to it, hair the softest brown. His features are defined, but soft on the eyes, the slightest dip in his cheeks, gaze lowered to the steps. Doyoung doesn’t even realize his eyes have trained on him with such intent until he’d felt a tap against his elbow, breaking him away from the sight before him.
Right. The umm. Rings. And vows. Doyoung speaks first, as with tradition, repeats the words, and opens his palm for Jaehyun to keep his own on to. Warm. That’s what they are. Knuckles worn, his family ring on his finger. What surprises him most though, is his voice.
Deeper, than he’d expected. Velvety; such a rich tone, unbecoming of most omegas. Jaehyun is also taller, broader than what he’d expected too. But there is a softness to his voice, a touch melodic when he speaks. Gentle, and by the time he is done, Doyoung wonders if it had ever managed to reach the last of pews too. There is the slightest tremor to his touch, the anxiousness to his eyes. Jaehyun licks his lips, plush and pink, before finally meeting his gaze.
Something thuds, against Doyoung’s chest. Hard, impactful, and fleeting. Gone as soon as it came. His hand curves against his jaw, thumb resting over his cheek, hoping to convey as much as he can, with a glance of his own, searching, if he was okay.
Jaehyun stares back, quiet. And then blinks, assuring. It is all that Doyoung needs, to seal the gap with a kiss against his lips, chaste and short-lived, but enough to satisfy the ceremony.
Nectarine. He’s hit with a strong whiff of it, this close. Peaches? He pulls back, still in his space, the applause falling on deaf ears, as he casts a quick search over his face for any discomfort. Jaehyun is slow to open his eyes, but his smile albeit small, is relief enough. There’s something lush to it too. Rich and full, rather than the lightness of fruit to his scent. Cream? These things are always hard to guess for him so early.
They greet the guests, afterwards. Long hours of pleasantries, standing side by side, the distance in between them speaking of their newness as a couple. There is a lull in all of it, when the music starts, everyone eager to catch up with one another at a rare occasion to get together.
“Are you fine?” he asks, eventually, unable to tamp down the urge in midst of the silence. Jaehyun’s thumb pauses from where it had been digging against his palm, looking to him akin to a deer in headlights.
It is…endearing. “Yes, I think,” he says, and then more quietly, “though, it will be a lie to say I was not nervous.” Doyoung laughs at that, obviously keeping it down lest someone glances over.
“Same here,” he says, and then, a little more carefully, “must be a lot, yes? So much at once.”
Jaehyun’s eyes dim at that. Too early? “Yes, it has. I will try not to let it show though—one must move on, even if others leave.”
“Oh, I did not mean—“ Doyoung rushes to correct, not wanting to leave a wrong impression when for some forsaken reason, his brother decides to make his appearance now. Both of them straighten before bowing, and Gongmyung ruffles his hair, shaking hands with Jaehyun.
“Cannot believe the day has finally come, my baby brother now starting his own family,” Doyoung’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. “And such a gorgeous brother-in-law you have brought home.” Now Jaehyun’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. It is an amusing sight to see the flush tint his ears before climbing his neck.
“Can you not?” he interrupts, pulling him next to him, “and I hope you are not grabbing the first ship back home.”
“How could I possibly miss it?” he says, “getting away from you? It will be a blessing.”
Doyoung punches his arm, “and your absence one for the kingdom. Might as well pack your bags right now.” Gongmyung glances over at Jaehyun.
“This is a preview of what you are going to be subjected to for the rest of your life,” Doyoung rolls his eyes, “a pain in the side.”
“Leave,” he hisses, and his brother finally does. Jaehyun’s eyes follow him away, before glancing over.
“You two are very close,” he notes, “he is a beta, no?”
Oh. “Yes,” he says. He remembers being absolutely heartbroken when he’d presented. In Winsor, only alphas ascend the throne. Which meant his brother had to be married off, and to young Doyoung it did not matter if it was love or arranged or if he was happy or upset. All he’d known was his brother was gone, and he’d suddenly turned completely alone. “But that is not really of any importance.”
Jaehyun’s eyes widen, “is it not? There must have been some resentment. Despite being the eldest, he had been given a lower status. To never become king.”
Doyoung toys with his ring. “I cannot speak for what he felt, or what he had not. But not once, had hyung ever made me feel any of those things. If I am being honest, it had always been the last thing on our minds. He is my brother, before all else.”
Jaehyun is quiet at that. “That is lovely to hear,” Doyoung smiles, at the choice of words, “will he really not stay?”
Doyoung shakes his head, “he cannot. There is a ball soon for his sister-in-law’s child, they must attend. It is a three day voyage, after all.” Jaehyun hums, but does not add anything more. It is very sad he does not, because Doyoung’s curiosity is flaming wild.
What about you, Jaehyun? What about Soojung? What about your parents? Do you miss them? Will you miss her?
Will she, you?
“There you are,” it’s almost like he’s summoned her, from thought alone.
Doyoung has met Soojung, on occasions before. As heir, she had been a frequent to meetings, and political trips. But in all his years, he has never seen her this…unsure. It is in the slightest change of posture, the smile that feels like it’s forcing itself to be there, and a hike in her scent—Sherry. “Everything was a little hectic,” she says, facing him, bowing. Doyoung does so back. She offers forward an envelope, making him raise a brow.
“It’s tradition, in Vilane,” she says, “father well. He’d always wished, he’d been one to do the honours. Please accept it, your highness. And…” She licks her lips, casting a glance to her brother. Jaehyun’s gaze is avoidant, focus on his shoes, hands clasped in front. “Please treat him well.”
There is a tension, between them. But Doyoung has enough tact to not prod. He accepts it, and watches her leave, Jaehyun not once checking to see if his sister is still near or not. He grows very quiet, after that, but as far as he knows, that’s also how he’s been described.
Irrevocably shy, on first meetings. Even when Doyoung takes his hand for a dance, he barely keeps the eye contact, a shame, considering they’re a very, very warm brown. All he has is the other’s scent to pick on—still sweet, still lush, and yet.
It’s a little too much, when they’re close. Nervous. He’s good at hiding it. “Would you like to retire, after this?”
“If it is not a bother.” Doyoung shakes his head.
“None at all.”
Doyoung takes his time in the bath, once they have reached their temporary quarters. His own room falls in the left wing, currently under renovation—too much debris, dust and noise for anyone to have anything but restful sleep. It has already been close to three weeks, with signs of Doyoung finding home in the closets, shelves and desks.
He’s drying himself off before he does the same to his hair, spending a good bit of time just in case. He would hate getting sick—he does not have the time for it, considering there is so much already left pending. Out of habit, he massages his cream into his skin, before rolling on his blocker, stepping out into the room only to pause.
Right.
Jaehyun’s back is to him, clad in a loose white shirt and pants. Back straight, fingers fidgeting on where they rest on the sheets. His hair’s still a little wet; dark strands curling against his nape, splotches of wetness against his collar and shoulders. Doyoung itches to bring his towel over, and rub it through his mop of hair too.
But it is too soon.
And Jaehyun is…clearly not adjusting well. Anxious. He does not have great control over his scent—it floods the room, and Doyoung’s senses, almost a little sour. “Jaehyun,” he calls out, the name new on his tongue, “do you need anything?”
He practically jolts at his voice, surprised as he turns to see him. “When did you come in?” he asks, voice still very quiet, despite only the two of them here, “I did not…” He seems to think better of the words, before shaking his head, eyes dropping to the sheets. “No I…I do not need anything, your highness.”
Oh. “You can call me by name instead,” he says, smiling, hoping to ease his worries. Doyoung takes a seat next to him, Jaehyun’s body so taut with tension it seems like he might just flee if he makes the wrong move. “Doyoung is fine.”
“I could not,” he immediately says, cheeks colouring, “you are above, in well, everything. Status and age. It—“ he bites the inside of his cheek, “it would put me at ease, if I did not.”
Well then. “Then hyung?” he asks, instead, “will…that be good? I would hate to be referred to by formality from my husband.” Jaehyun nods, and that’s all cleared up. Doyoung licks his lips, unable to come up with anything more to say. Jaehyun still looks very tired, and it would not be kind of him to exhaust any further.
“Well then,” Doyoung clears his throat, sending a glance his way. Jaehyun’s still not looking at him, a few hairs falling right into his eyes. He’s not very great at this, is he? Doyoung reaches out to tuck it back, instinctive almost when—
“Sorry,” Jaehyun flinches, trying to cover it up with an awkward laugh. It was barely noticeable, honestly, but. Jaehyun bites his lip, hands clasped in his lap, before he closes his eyes. “You can um. Continue.”
Doyoung studies him. Then smiles, huffing as he brushes his hair back. This close, Jaehyun’s scent is almost overpowering—especially for someone like Doyoung, barely accustomed to his own in the first place. “The night is short, Jaehyun,” he says, getting up to his side of the bed, “get some sleep, okay?”
He lays down, closing his eyes, Jaehyun following after a prolonged beat of silence. “Goodnight,” he whispers, and Doyoung buries his face into his pillow, humming the same back.
Out of habit, he’s awake exactly at six in the morning. Doyoung yawns, stretching out. Sunlight peeks through the translucent curtains, making him smile, loving the slightest warmth they give him.
Gosh, he does love a good summer morning. Not to mention, despite the sheets going cold by morning, they still feel oddly warm, hid body heavy. He blinks, clearing the morning fog and—
Jaehyun.
His eyes shoot open, suddenly wide awake. That explains the weight, then. It takes a bit to process, because his brain is still waking up but he huffs a laugh. Jaehyun is oblivious, face squished against the pillow, lips pushed into a pout. One arm thrown over Doyoung’s torso, a leg thrown over one of Doyoung’s. A cuddler? With the way he is, he didn’t expect it.
Not this either. Face the epitome of peace, drenched in golden tint, like the rest of the room. He is very warm, indeed. Doyoung shifts, trying not to jolt him awake. Heaven knows, he needs the rest than any of them. But Jaehyun frowns, making him freeze. Doyoung holds his breath, as he wiggles around in his sleep, finally getting out. His expression twitches, one or twice, before falling back to sleep.
Whew.
Considering everything that has led up to the wedding...he needs all the rest he can get. He sits there, for a moment, admiring him. There is something--dare he say it--innocent, about him. Like this. Doyoung runs his fingers through Jaehyun's hair, heart doing an odd little thing, when they slip through them like silk.
He shakes his head. He had work to do.