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The weather had been terrible the week previous, an oddly timed rainstorm following the solstice trapping Jisung in his room. Without any way to disappear from the castle for a few hours, he’d holed up in his room and watched the floods of rain drench Ousteria.
Finally, though, the rain let up. It’d been too wet to venture from his room when the clouds had initially cleared, Jisung’s window sill was too slippery to be safe to climb out of, but given an extra day the city had returned to its dry, depressing state.
His day had proven dreadful, with no opportunities arriving to slip away and disappear into the forest. But as the sun set, he was willing to sacrifice his sleep for just a short ride, hoping Tug wouldn’t mind the late-night adventure.
Jisung had barely finished tying the lace on his second boot when he heard it; footsteps.
Footsteps down his hall were never a good sign, let alone this late in the evening when his parents wouldn’t care to put in the energy of informing him of anything.
Assuming Jinyeon was still refusing to come anywhere near his brother's room, there was really only one possibility; there was an intruder in the castle.
The prospect of an intruder possibly on their way to kill Jisung should’ve worried him more than it did, but his week had been so boring that the thought almost excited him.
Deciding against what was likely best for his well-being, Jisung marched out the door to his bedroom, keeping his voice mostly quiet as he whispered into the hallway, “Who’s there?”
He glanced up and down the hallway, finding it void of life aside from himself. The floorboards were out of use though, and he knew the distinct sound of them. There was someone else here.
Jisung knew it probably wasn’t safe to stand unguarded in the hallway, waiting like a stubborn child to get what he wanted, but all the intruders he’d run into in the past had been good company until their inevitable demise trying to escape.
Finally, a voice cleared their throat down at the end of the hallway, “Just doing my rounds, Your Highness.”
Something akin to giddiness rushed through Jisung. Not only were they certainly not castle staff, but it seemed likely they weren’t from the kingdom at all. Jisung struggled to remember the last time he’d been addressed so officially.
He wasted no time, following the sound of the voice to one of the thick pillars towards the end of the hall. Pressed to the back of it was a man who couldn’t be much older than Jisung himself. An albeit handsome man, but very clearly an intruder.
The moment Jisung enters his field of view, the man’s hand darts to a knife on his hip. It’s a defensive move, Jisung notices. He doesn’t move to attack the prince immediately, and Jisung takes it as a sign his intentions aren’t to kill.
Still, Jisung raises his hands in surrender, and the demeanor of the man seems to soften slightly.
“Are you here to steal or kill?” Jisung doesn’t really need the answer, it doesn’t matter much if it isn’t his own life, but something about the man makes him curious.
Briefly distracted by the slope of the man’s nose, he doesn’t realize he’s opened his mouth until he begins to speak. “I’m here to retrieve something that was stolen from my mother,” Jisung gestures for him to explain further, he doesn’t really care but for some reason, he needs to hear the man’s voice again. “A brooch, it was taken a long time ago.”
For a moment, Jisung scans the other man. He hopes it comes off as looking for other weapons or other danger because that is certainly not the intention when he first pulls his eyes away from the other’s face.
“You’re going the wrong way.” It’s almost absent-minded, his response. He’s still a little lost in thought, but his brain supplies words anyway.
He’d been hoping for something to do, and this surely beat a ride through the same woods he always saw. So as any sane person would do, he turns down the hall in the direction of the west wing.
Light footsteps catch up to him after a moment, the man quietly whispering, “What do you mean I’m going the wrong way?”
“If it was stolen and given to her by my father then it won’t be in her room.” Jisung pauses at the end of the hallway, it’s unlikely any guards would be this close to his room, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. “She doesn’t like my father’s taste in jewelry. Tosses all of his presents in a storage closet in the west wing.”
They continue down the hallway towards the west wing. It’s a familiar path for Jisung, his favorite house cat usually roaming the halls near the kitchen.
“And why should I trust you of all people to help me?” The man’s voice is annoyed, though Jisung doesn’t turn to face him as they turn down another hall.
“You’re following me, aren’t you?” Jisung takes the advantage of being in front of the other to let a small smile through, before quickly dropping it when he starts to hear something down the hall.
“Sure, but why would you help me?” The other man looks at him in confusion, but Jisung shushes him with a finger, focusing on trying to locate the distant sound. It’s only a moment later he can identify the direction they’re coming from, Jisung tugging Minho into a doorway until they pass.
Jisung doesn’t wait long before returning to the hallway, continuing down as the man tries his best to quietly catch up.
“All I care is that you aren’t here to murder me. I could care less about my mother, let alone her brooch collection. Plus this is much more entertaining than my original plans for the evening.” It’s probably more information than the intruder needed, but he honestly could not care.
“You don’t seem to like it here,” The man looks at him again as they round another corner. Jisung doesn’t have a great answer for that, so he shrugs. “Why don’t you just leave then?”
That one Jisung can answer. He’s rationalized it to himself so many times it’s like he’s scripted it in his mind, “I’m a prince. I live in a castle with a giant bedroom. I get free clothes and free meals. I have no obligations other than to smile and look pretty. It may be boring as shit and I hate it with every fiber of my being, but there’s never been anything intriguing enough to leave behind the luxuries handed to me.”
For some reason, Jisung’s mind tries to correct him, tries to tell him there’s never been anything intriguing until now. He doesn’t have much time to think about what he’s said though, eyeing the door at the end of the hall. He sees the doubt in the intruder's eyes as he approaches what is essentially an unlocked closet made for cleaning surprise, but the surprise that spreads over the man’s face is hilarious as he opens the door.
It’s obvious he’s found what he’s looking for when his eyes widen a little more, but then Jisung hears the shouts of guards. “There’s someone in the castle!”
Quickly, Jisung gently pushes Minho into the closet, a plan formulating in his head. “Grab what you’re looking for and stay quiet. I’ll be right back.”
He closes the door to the closet, rushing towards the front of the castle. As soon as he appears, a handful of guards raise their weapons towards him, only a few lowering them once they identify him.
“I heard someone run past my door, I think he’s headed to the king’s quarters!” Jisung points towards the east wing for emphasis.
When he says it, they don’t reply, rushing off in a big pile towards the bedrooms. It’s unsurprising how none of them remain to ensure his safety, but Jisung doesn’t think about it long before rushing back to the closet.
He opens the door and grabs Minho’s arm, speaking quieter than before, “Quick, that’ll only redirect them for so long.”
He begins to guide them down the hall, “There’s a back door in the kitchen. Once you get outside, head two hundred paces straight from the door. There’ll be a hole in the ground that goes under the castle walls.”
They move through the castle halls passing through a handful of rooms to avoid any posted guards. Jisung can feel the adrenaline in his veins, something akin to a deranged smile on his face. This was certainly more fun than what he’d originally planned on.
“The hole is a bit of a squeeze but the guards don’t know it’s there. I can’t help you much once you’re inside the city,” As they enter the kitchen, Jisung can’t help but feel a little sad that it's almost over. “Avoid the streets and the alleys to the east, that’s where the guards will sweep first. Get to the southern exit and run towards the forest as fast as you can, there’s the most coverage in the woods to the south.”
He tugs open the door, but before the intruder departs, there’s a rushed thanks. Something breathless and just as nervous as he is, but there’s a sweet smile that comes with it leaving Jisung wishing he had another minute.
When he pulls the door shut he realizes the odds the man has. It certainly isn’t the first time he’s helped a thief make it out of the castle, but they’ve only ever made it to the edge of the city before being killed.
For some reason, something felt different about this one. There’s the ghost of a hand pushing Jisung towards a decision he doesn’t know if he’ll regret.
Still, he races off to his room. He knows he doesn’t have much time, grabbing a bag and his cloak as he hears the guards in the castle shouting about a man being spotted in the city.
With a dry window sill and the bag he always kept stashed if he ever actually decided to leave, Jisung quickly scales the wall of the castle. The stables aren’t far from there, and he’d already tacked Tug up earlier in the day.
If there’s one advantage Jisung has over the royal guards, it’s knowing the city and the area surrounding it.
Tug responds nicely, taking Jisung out of the castle barrier and through the west exit. As he rounds the city from the outside, he can see the hoard of guards chasing the lone intruder towards the forest.
Jisung quickly picks up his pace, racing until he’s right next to the man. He slows to the same pace as him, taking his foot out of the left stirrup and sticking out a hand. “Come on.”
-
For as long as Jisung can remember, he’s hated Forsumir. There was nothing likable about the lumber town, all sweaty men and alcohol. Even without the constant ridicule from the kingdom, the village wasn’t enjoyable.
There was a wave of relief that washed over Jisung when Minho offered to go find them dinner, not wanting to venture through the town even if he kept the cloak on.
It was odd though. He was finally able to take a bath after riding and sleeping in the woods, but Minho’s absence felt off. It’d been a while since someone had talked to Jisung for as long as he had, let alone the conversation be pleasant, and the sudden lack of his presence was strange.
Still, Jisung enjoyed the bed and the book he found on the bedside table.
It wasn’t long before Minho returned, but his demeanor felt off when he entered. He quickly masked it upon seeing Jisung, eyes softening slightly, but he still seemed upset.
“Minho, what’s wrong?” His voice comes out smaller than he thought it would, but Minho waves him off anyway. He drops the bag of food on the bed Jisung had claimed, disappearing into the bathroom as well.
Knowing it’ll be a few minutes, Jisung eats a portion of the baked potato and steak, appreciating the warmth a full stomach fills him with. Still, worry hangs in the back of his head as to the reason for Minho’s mood shift.
The elder eventually re-emerges from the bathroom, not speaking as he sits at the other end of the bed and begins eating his portion. Jisung could tell he was eating quickly, that he could feel the prince’s curious stare and was trying to find it in him to start talking.
Still, he tries to dodge the conversation once he’s finished his meal, “Just some drunkards at the bar don’t worry about it.”
Jisung doesn’t let it slide though, his stare remaining on the other’s face as stubborn as ever. Minho balls up the parchment that contained their food before taking in a deep breath, “What does everyone in this country have against you?”
It’s not shocking. That’s the worst part of it. He knew by now that word would’ve reached Forsumir, that there was a chance Minho would hear something on the streets.
But Minho is still here. Minho bought him dinner and ate it on the same bed as him. Minho is still here , and the way he asks the question is gentle, bubbling with a withheld rage that isn’t directed at Jisung.
Jisung’s never actually talked about this with anyone. Every person he’s ever been surrounded with has had the same idea of him, the same grudge that he can’t escape. They never listen, but Minho is willing to.
“I’m useless to the kingdom,” Jisung can’t look at Minho while he speaks. The other may still be here, but he doesn’t want to see his mind change if it does, would rather hear him shout or leave than watch the emotions in his eyes swirl to something angry.
“I’m the youngest son. My father’s crown will go to my brother first, and then in the case of something happening, it will go to my elder cousin second. My parents refuse to form alliances, they think it’s a sign of weakness if a nation is unable to rule alone. So in turn, my hand in marriage means nothing for the country either.” Jisung doesn’t even want to think about what’d happen if they did try to marry him off, his family was vocal enough already about his preferences.
Jisung laughs, or at least he tries to. It comes out rough around the edges like he’s about to cry, he probably is. “My brother’s diplomatic staff was decided ages ago, and at the time I was a loudmouth child in desperate need of his parent’s attention. Because I was always acting out, they deemed me unfit to hold any sort of political power.”
The memories are vivid despite his age. He didn’t know the consequences of lying when he was young, always crying wolf in hopes that his mother or father would look at him the same as his brother.
Those memories changed as he got older though. Going from a pitiful child acting out for even an ounce of love, to a teenager who did everything in his power to make his life hell.
His voice is cracking when continues, “The castle staff hated me because of it. I was useless to the kingdom, unwanted by my parents, and still had everything handed to me. I didn’t have to work, didn’t have to pay for anything, just as long as I stayed out of my parents' way. The staff made sure I was aware of the privilege I had, how easy I had it, how grateful I should be.”
It was an understatement, Minho didn’t need the goriest of details. His parents simply wanted him out of their way, would ignore him or leave him behind when they went on trips. But the castle staff did plenty to make sure he was aware of the privilege he had, left scars to help him remember if he ever forgot.
“You knew I wasn’t castle staff the moment you heard me in the hallway,” Minho’s voice is the softest Jisung has ever heard it. Understandably so, Jisung thinks if he spoke any louder he would break right then and there.
He nods, “They don’t like me much, haven’t had a guard patrol that hallway for a long time. Let alone have someone call me Your Highness without my parents present.”
He’d long since learned to not fear what was outside his bedroom door. Whatever came down that hallway would never be as scary as the people who refused to out of spite.
“You’ve never been truly cared for, have you?” Minho’s words set something loose inside of him. Tears begin clouding his vision and everything around him just crumbles .
The truth behind the words goes far deeper than the elder could understand, but still, it seems he tries to. He rushes from the other end of the bed to Jisung’s side, gently tugging him against his chest as the dam inside him breaks.
It’s been so long since he’s let these things surface. It’s been so long since he’s let himself cry .
But Minho is right there, and he isn’t leaving. Minho is right there and he’s holding him like he’s worth something. It’s tender, and Minho’s eyes are warm, and Jisung is breaking.
“I don’t-” He doesn’t know why he’s trying to speak, there are too many emotions that have been pushed down for so long, shoving themselves out all at once. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve been trying to get out of that castle for as long as I can remember, but I don’t know where to go from here.”
He’s lost. He’s so lost and confused. But Minho isn’t letting go. Minho’s hand comes to his head and drags his fingers through his hair, and Jisung realizes it’s the first time someone has ever done so without yanking, without pulling it until his scalp bleeds.
It takes a moment to notice, but Minho’s chest rises and falls with bigger breaths. It’s easier to follow, and all too much at the same time. Every action Minho takes to make sure he’s okay is breaking him more.
Eventually, though, his breathing evens out enough, the sobs turn into hiccups, and Minho doesn’t let go.
The elder carefully pulls him away from his chest, but he doesn’t let him go far, just enough to look him in the eye. He looks over the younger, wiping tears from his cheeks as they fall.
“Come with me to Fallwell, see if there’s a place out there you want to settle in or just keep traveling with me.” It doesn’t sound like a question, there’s conflict in Minho’s eyes like he doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t change his mind.
“Really?” His voice is scratchy and small and it looks like the worry in his eyes is killing Minho.
Minho only nods, but there’s a glint in his eyes that feels like he has never been more confident in anything.
Jisung can’t stop himself from curling back into the elder, suddenly starving for the gentle touches and warm words.
For a few minutes, they sit like that, Minho’s hand carefully scraping through his hair, pulling through knots and smoothing it out. Then slowly, he moves Jisung to lie down, pulling the cover over him.
“Stay, please.” Jisung holds Minho’s wrist with as much strength as he can muster, too desperate not to be alone with his thoughts.
He nods, separating briefly to turn off the light before returning to Jisung’s bed. He slips beneath the blanket beside the prince, allowing him to be used as a pillow as Jisung places his head on his chest.
That same hand returns to Jisung’s head, carefully moving through it until Jisung melts completely into his hold. The thoughts swimming in his head are held at bay as he feels the rise and fall of Minho’s chest and the beating of his heart.
Someone listened. Someone stayed. Someone cared.
There’s an overwhelming fear in Jisung’s chest that he won’t get to keep this for long. Like everything he’s ever given into enjoying has been ripped from his grasp, he fears the same for Minho.
But for now, Minho is here, carding his hand through Jisung’s hair. So Jisung will enjoy every last drop of Minho’s affection until it runs dry, or until it’s torn from his hands.
Because Minho stayed. Minho cared .
-
He’s woken up to neatly masked panic, Minho’s voice steady but quick as he instructs Jisung to grab his things. They grab their bags, Jisung tugging on boots and his cloak before following Minho out of the inn.
He recognizes the voices, various guards and commanders he grew up around. It’s easy to dodge them as they slip between alleys, it’s an art Jisung long since learned to master.
But neither of them knows this town well, and eventually, they find themselves at a dead end, a guard entering the street ahead of them.
Minho quickly hands his bag to Jisung, whispering, “Make a run for the pasture as soon as the street is empty.”
And Jisung tries to grab at him, ask him what he’s doing, tell him he’s being stupid. But Minho exits the alley, and Jisung knows he has a plan. He wants to be mad, but he knows that Minho isn’t going to take a risk for nothing.
“Good evening sir, what’s all the commotion about?” Minho’s voice is relaxed like he truly is a concerned citizen.
“We received word from a townsperson that the missing prince and his kidnapper stopped by the town,” There’s a short pause before he continues, Jisung keeps tightly against the wall to avoid being seen. “Would you happen to have any identification on you?”
For a moment Jisung panics, but then there’s the sound of rustling fabric before Minho replies, “I forgot my papers in my rush out the door.”
“Ah, I see. Would you mind walking me to your house so I can look those over?” And that’s all it seems to take. Minho happily directing the man out and down the street.
Jisung knows there isn’t time to waste, quickly exiting the alley and making a break towards the south. He only needs to snake between a few buildings before he reaches the open road, and there’s Tug not too far away.
He can still see the town, and he’s too visible where he is, so he hastily mounts Tug before riding into the nearby trees for coverage.
Needing to do something with his hands, Jisung hops back off the horse, carefully strapping their bags to Tug’s saddle before deciding he can do a better job and does it a second time.
Minho darts through the trees towards Jisung, with no guards behind him but definite commotion in the town. When Jisung turns to face him, the blood on his white shirt is the first thing he notices, and he begins to panic that something very bad has happened.
“Is that yours?” It can’t be, Minho is too skilled. But Jisung doesn’t really know that, does he? He hasn’t actually known the elder that long, and has never really seen him fight, he’s just assumed he’s good at what he does because he made it in and out of the castle.
Minho seems confused for a second, following Jisung’s eyes to his shirt before hurriedly speaking, “No, no it isn’t mine. But we need to go.”
This quells Jisung’s nerves enough, mounting Tug before helping Minho up with his uninjured arm.
As they race through the woods, Minho seems to refuse to hold on to Jisung despite their speed. Jisung huffs, reaching behind him to grab Minho’s arms and pull him forward. There’s no fight, Minho melts against Jisung as soon as he does it.
-
“I don’t love it but this is likely our safest bet for the night,” Minho examined the small not-really cave, very begrudgingly walking inside as he gave one last glance to the surrounding area like something better would appear out of thin air.
“We should eat and then you rest a little,” Jisung grabs a roll of bread, cutting off Minho before he could argue. “I can sleep on the trail, you can’t. If I get tired I’ll wake you up, don’t worry.”
He looks at Minho like he’s daring him to argue like he has something lined up to fight back with when in reality all he wants is for Minho to get a little rest.
“Fine, but the moment you hear absolutely anything, you tell me. Even if it’s a squirrel or a strong breeze, if you hear anything that sounds slightly out of place you wake me up. Okay?” Jisung resists lighting up at the compliance, taking a big bite of bread to hide his smug smile.
“Deal. Now eat,” Jisung hands Minho some bread, sitting himself down in the center of the almost cave in a semi-intentional way of forcing Minho to sit closer to him. It works though, Minho sitting right beside him despite the remaining space. “So, what’s in Fallwell?”
Jisung doesn’t really care. Of course, he wants to know where they’re going, but in all honesty, he just likes to hear Minho talk.
“A few things,” Minho swallows his bread, taking a sip of water before continuing. “First stop will be Bellbarrow, the mining town just on the other side of the mountains. I’ve got a job waiting for me once I get there.
Jisung takes the water from him after finishing his own bread, downing some before asking, “And after that?”
“We’ll find out in Bellbarrow.” Minho shrugs, laying back on the ground with his back beneath his head. “My bets are on Avrinyth, but it’s wherever I’m needed next. Whenever you want to settle down somewhere is up to you, but I’ve got to keep moving with the kind of job I have.”
Somewhere deep down Jisung knows that stop won’t come for a while. That he’ll happily follow Minho as far as he lets him.
“What even is your job?” When Jisung turns to look at him, his mouth is pulled up in a smirk. It’s so undeniably attractive Jisung thanks the elder for his eyes remaining closed.
He revokes any thanks for Minho when he replies, “If the price is right, I’ll be whatever you want me to be, princess.”
Jisung coughs a little at the comment, trying to cover it up as a scoff as he hits his arm. Minho lets out a light laugh before getting a little more comfortable.
But as Minho slowly drifts off, Jisung’s mind continues to run faster. The past few times Minho had called him the nickname, it’d mostly been in a teasing manner about Jisung’s inexperience living outside of the castle. This time sounded different .
It’d already made him embarrassed, but now he thinks he’s flushing for a different reason.
So as Minho peacefully sleeps beside him, Jisung thinks. He thinks about all the things they’ve talked about, how many little pieces of themselves they’ve offered up to one another.
Jisung knows he’s been a little attracted to Minho since that first run-in at the castle, but it’s growing. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, one his body is trying so hard to reject, to uproot from where it’s spreading. He knows it will only hurt more when he inevitably loses the elder, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t want to.
For a while, he just watches the slow rise and fall of the elder’s chest. He doesn’t usually see Minho asleep, usually falling asleep first and waking up later. His face looks at peace, the perpetual crease in his brow gone, shoulder relaxed as he lays unconscious.
It helps him keep his eyes open, his thoughts powering his mind through the night along with the quiet snores coming from his left.
The rustling of a bush makes Jisung tense, carefully shaking Minho awake to keep up his end of the deal. Minho’s sleep-addled brain appears to be enthused at how seriously Jisung had taken his request, but when he falls back asleep he’s a little closer to Jisung, clinging to the warmth of the body beside him.
When they continue the next morning, Jisung falls asleep quickly, latching onto the back of the elder as they continue through the mountain.
It’s a few days later that they run into serious danger, neither of them noticing the signs of life as they enter a more heavily shaded area. There are only four men, but they surround them on all sides, and Jisung doesn’t have time to hide his face.
“Now what’s a prince doing somewhere like here?” The man on the right speaks first, and the words make Jisung hold back a shudder. There’s something about the way he says it, something that makes Jisung want to recoil back.
“That’s none of your concern,” Minho’s voice is harsh, but Jisung can tell he’s scrambling.
“I think it’s plenty our concern,” Jisung doesn’t know which one is speaking, too focused on trying to figure out what Minho is thinking, “Especially when he’s such a pretty one. Worth a lot, you know? The pretty ones always are.”
There’s something about the implication behind those words that makes Jisung want to throw up, but he focuses his movement on Minho’s belt.
Carefully, he grabs the hilt of one of Minho’s throwing knives. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, doesn't know how to use one of them, and has never once in his life inflicted any degree of harm on anyone else.
“We’ll let you on your merry way if you just hand him over,” The man on the right spoke again. “You can keep the horse and everything.”
Jisung doesn’t care though. It’s almost like a reflex the way his arm moves, throwing the knife into the throat of the man in the front.
They don’t have time to sit and think about Jisung’s actions, he doesn’t have time to dwell on what he’s done. He makes a familiar clicking sound, tapping Tug with his foot, signaling for the horse to bolt.
The men start to shout, but Jisung focuses his entire being on Minho’s neck. The elder steers them through the forest, weaving through the trees and towards the mountain.
Jisung doesn't know what’s happening until things get darker, till Minho hops off Tug and helps him off the horse as well. Jisung is shaking, hard, trembling so much he can barely stand. He thinks he may fall, and he reaches forward to clutch onto Minho.
“He-” He’s mostly collapsed into Minho. He feels pathetic like this shouldn’t be a big deal. Minho has done so much worse, but still, “They were all looking at me like…”
Minho’s hand finds Jisung’s hair, voice steady as he speaks, “You’re okay now, it’s okay.”
They stand there for what could be minutes or hours, Jisung trying to anchor himself in the movement of Minho’s hand. It’s still too much.
He moves away from the elder, grabbing bandages from his bag before sitting at Minho’s feet, motioning for the other to sit as well. Minho recognizes the desperation in his eyes, the need for a distraction, and complies as he sits beside him.
“I feel like I should feel guilty, but I…” His hands are still shaking, but Minho is looking at him like he’s the only thing worthy of his attention and it makes the tremble a little better.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jisung focuses on cleaning the dried blood of Minho’s arm, but the only thing he hears is Minho’s words, nothing else exists except for the sound of Minho’s voice. “They intended to hurt you, and you protected yourself.”
He ties off the fresh bandage, the panic having drained him of his energy as he leans forward against the elder’s chest.
Minho’s hand returns to his hair, only making Jisung melt further into his hold. “Only a few more days till we reach the border. Once we reach it we can get on the main road where we’ll be a lot safer.”
Jisung nods, letting the comforting feeling of Minho’s ministrations calm him further. Eventually, though, he lets out a quiet, “Let’s call it a night here, I’m tired.”
And Minho doesn’t argue, pulling the younger down against his chest. Jisung doesn’t sleep for a while, his thoughts spiraling as he thinks and thinks. But Minho doesn’t sleep either, his hand continuing to move through Jisung’s hair until the prince eventually falls asleep.
Something has taken root deep in Jisung’s chest. Something unfamiliar, something he knows the name of but has never felt before.
It’s terrifying, and it’s warm, and it feels like a calloused hand gently combing through his tangled hair.
-
When Minho follows the bartender, Chan, back out the door, Jisung is left alone in the living space. For a moment he contemplates following Minho, but there’s little reason to return to the crowded pub.
So, being the nosy person he is, he begins looking around the small space.
He doesn’t get very far, having been staring at the large bookcase for so long someone comes up to check on him.
“Alright,” The prince turns around to find Chan moving into the kitchen, taking the opportunity to follow him. “Minho won’t be gone for very long, should only be a few days if he runs into any trouble.”
Chan retrieves a loaf of bread and some sliced meat, gesturing for Jisung to sit down at the small table.
“Here,” Chan sets the plate down in front of him, a sandwich consisting entirely of bread and meat that Jisung is quick to eat after thanking him. “Now I’m not going to ask any questions, if you want to tell me anything then you can. But for the next couple days Minho asked you stay here.”
Jisung only nods, mouth full and happy to comply. He eventually swallows the rest of the sandwich down, “As long as you’re willing to let me stay then that’s fine by me.”
There’s a soft smile that spreads on Chan’s face, one that has Jisung feeling a little safer without Minho.
“Of course, a friend of Minho’s is a friend of mine.” Chan drops into the chair across from Jisung. “I mean that as seriously as possible. Anyone who can successfully break through his thick skull, let alone find his soft spot, is someone trustworthy enough to stay in my home.”
If Jisung could physically will down his blush he would.
After Jisung finishes his sandwich, Chan shows him to the small spare room, leaving him to get settled as he helps Changbin with the bar.
The pub closes eventually, and Jisung joins the other two downstairs. They’re both very kind, and despite their playful jabs and tendency to annoy one another, the atmosphere is warm.
It’s odd. Minho had been the first person he ever really felt safe around, was ever really acknowledged by in a positive light, and here he was meeting two more. It’s strange but it isn’t unwelcome.
He certainly misses Minho, not going a single night without wishing the other was back sooner, but Chan and Changbin are good company. He learns a lot more about their vein of work, about the kinds of jobs Minho usually does.
It’s nice getting to talk to more people.
When Minho inevitably returns, Jisung may hug him for a moment longer, and almost shamelessly ask him to share the bed again. But he didn’t hate the time he’d spent away from the other as much as he’d expected to.
However, he doesn’t give it a second thought when Minho asks if he’d like to stay. He may have enjoyed his time spent with Chan and Changbin, but nothing compares to the need to follow Minho.
It’s more than a need to follow him, Jisung knows it. He knows he’d take anything the elder gave him, that he’d long for more no matter what. But for now, he’s happy to settle on following.
He’s been waiting his entire life, for what exactly he doesn’t know. But he’s waited for years, what’s a little longer?
-
The first night in the bakery is wonderful, the inviting warmth squeezing him as Felix and Seungmin lead him through the kitchen and the home attached to its back.
It isn’t giant, similar to the size of Chan’s pub, but it’s cozy and feels like it glows.
Seungmin makes a comment about going to find some extra blankets, and Felix jumps at the opportunity to drag Jisung to the kitchen.
“We have some leftover cake that needs eating,” Felix moves over to the long counter, finding a plate and knife to slice a piece of the white cake, handing it to Jisung along with a fork. “Seungmin’s recipe, it’s to die for and he won’t admit it.”
And Felix isn’t lying. It’s delicious, incomparable to the kind of things he’d be served in the castle.
“Have you ever thought about changing your hair? Might help you blend in more,” Felix seems to bring the topic up out of nowhere, but Jisung happily lets him continue as he takes another bite. “You’d probably be a bit less suspicious with something dark, but you’d look great blond.”
“I guess I’ve never thought about it,” Jisung begins to take another piece of the cake with his fork, “I’d be happy to if it isn’t that much of a hassle.”
Felix begins looking for something in a cupboard, about to continue but before he can reply, Minho returns from the stable, entering through the kitchen door.
“Ah, Minho you’re back!” Felix glances over his shoulder before returning it to where it was shoved inside the cabinet. “I was just telling Jisung how I could help him dye his hair so he can blend in a bit more, maybe throw people off with the change in description from his missing person’s poster.”
Having taken another bite, Jisung simply looks at Minho with wide eyes. He’s not sure why exactly he’s waiting for Minho’s permission, but he does anyway.
“Whatever you want, princess.” Minho smiles before disappearing into the house, Jisung cheering as Felix begins to list more ideas.
It’s only once Minho has left earshot that Felix looks at Jisung with a smirk.
“I get that you’re a prince and all,” He finally found what he’d been looking for in the cupboard, sprinkling on some chocolate to the remainder of Jisung’s piece of cake. “But that’s certainly an interesting nickname.”
“You’re telling me,” Jisung takes another bite of the cake, trying to get the red in his cheeks to go down. “I think it started as an insult, but it’s definitely devolved since then. He’s never said my actual name, apparently there’s no fun in it.”
Felix's smile only widens. “I would bet a lot of money on that not being the only reason.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jisung takes the last bite of cake, handing the plate to Felix when the other gestures for it.
“Minho doesn’t really do nicknames. Not even generic ones like shortening someone’s name,” Felix rinses the plate down before setting it on a drying rack. “And he definitely doesn’t call ‘princess’ just for the fun of it.”
Jisung doesn’t have time to ask any more questions though as Felix leads him into the house, depositing him in front of the spare bedroom.
He becomes abruptly aware of how exhausted he is, opening the door to find Minho and Seungmin sitting on the bed, the younger giving a brief goodnight before slipping past Jisung and out of the room.
Jisung flops onto the bed, legs thrown over Minho’s as he buries himself in the bed. “‘M tired.”
“Yeah?” Minho laughs, but it’s soft and it makes Jisung feel warm. “Well you’ve been traveling all day in these clothes so go change and then you can sleep.”
The prince groans, but he doesn’t disagree, grumbling as he grabs his bag and heads out of the room to change. He doesn’t waste any time changing, wanting to get back to the warm bed, and warm Minho, as fast as possible.
Minho has changed as well when he returns, and Jisung flops back onto the mattress, burying himself under the thick blankets. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Minho moving towards the set up of blankets piled on the floor, and he’s suddenly scrambling for an excuse, “No, c’mere. I’ll be cold alone.”
“Cold, hm?” But Minho complies, sliding under the blanket beside the prince. The moment the warm body is beside him, Jisung curls around it. “You warm now, princess?”
He almost wants to hit the other for the nickname, but Felix’s words from earlier float through his mind, and instead he offers a pleased hum before burying himself further in Minho’s hold.
“Hey Minho?” The elder is warm, but he wants to hear his voice again, not tired enough to sleep. “Where are we going?”
“I’ve got one more job in Baradoa, but after that we’ll stop in Stoweport. I haven’t been home in a while and I’ve got enough saved up to take a short break.” It’s then that Jisung realizes their destination. Minho had said they likely wouldn’t settle anywhere for long, but now it sounds as though they’re moving toward Minho’s home .
Jisung wants to be happy, he does. He wants to look at the implication of Minho taking him to Stoweport, but a voice of insecurity in the back of his mind is telling him that Minho’s still doing this out of pity. That he’ll get bored, or annoyed, that he’ll turn his back on him like everyone else has.
He doesn’t mean to sound as small as he does when asks the question, “Are you sure you’re okay with me coming with you?”
He needs an honest answer, he needs the truth. So he props his chin up on Minho’s chest to look him in the eyes.
What he’s expecting is pity, or indecision, or doubt. Anything to indicate that this is all some stupid fantasy Jisung has made up in his head and it’ll shatter in the coming moments. What he finds though, is a pair of warm brown eyes looking back at him with all the care they can muster.
That godforsaken hand finds its way into Jisung’s hair, and the boy is gone , he’s melting against the older. Those stupid eyes and stupid hands and stupid lips are burning him from the inside out.
“Of course I am.” Minho brushes Jisung’s hair from his forehead and all Jisung can think is, Minho, Minho, Minho . “But if you like it here or in Baradoa, tell me. I’ll help you get settled wherever you decide to stay.”
Jisung suffices a scoff, but there’s an urge to smack the other and shake his shoulders, shout, “I don’t want to stay anywhere without you! Stop asking!”
Jisung nods though, returning to his place on Minho’s chest as the older continues turning him to mush.
“Thank you. For everything, Minho.” He doesn’t know why he says it. It’s true, he’s never been so thankful for someone in his life, but he doesn't know what urges him to say it.
Minho hums, hand briefly pausing before continuing to move through his hair. “Sleep well.”
That’s all it takes for Jisung to relax completely. To melt into the other’s arms and slip into the darkness of his own mind.
When he wakes up, the bed beside him is still warm, but the space previously Minho-filled is empty. It couldn’t have been long though, and Jisung decides he’s well rested enough to venture out into the bakery.
“Jisung still sleeping?” Jisung hears the question, pushing the door open with one hand as he rubs his eyes with the other, sufficient a yawn.
“No,” Both boys jump, and Jisung holds back laughter at their surprise. “I was rudely awoken when Minho got up.”
Felix begins making his way towards the kitchen door when Minho replies, “Wouldn’t have woken you up if you’d let me sleep on the floor.”
Realizing the very obvious trap he’d just walked into, Jisung followed Felix into the kitchen, trying to get the blush in his cheeks to go down. There’s a look Felix shoots at him, one that suggests the other wants to know more, but Jisung ignores him.
“Is there a way I can help?” Jisung gestures to the various things that seem to be happening in the kitchen, and Felix beams at the question.
“Yes!” Felix waves him over to one of the counters where various ingredients have been spread out. “I’ll teach you a few recipes, but for now let’s start with the brownie batter. It’s almost done, it just needs to be mixed and poured in here.”
Felix lifts a small pan, before gesturing for Jisung to mix the batter. The freckled boy moves to another part of the kitchen to do something else, and Jisung devotes his entire focus to stirring the mixture.
For a while, things move quite smoothly, Felix teaching him how to crack eggs and cheering for him when he successfully does it on his third try. But then Felix asks him to pass him the bag of flour.
It’s so stupid. It should be easy, he just doesn’t think to look at which end the opening is when he goes to lift it up. Everything slows down as the flour pours onto the ground, a giant cloud of white filling the air and making it hard to see.
Jisung wants to run. He’s ruined a perfectly good bag of flour, wasting these nice people’s money. They’re going to kick him out, and turn him in to the Abrinage guards for the reward because he’s an idiot.
There are apologies spilling out of his mouth when the door to the kitchen opens, and as the white clears, he sees Minho and Seungmin staring at him. The smile he offers is overflowing with guilt, he’s trying so hard not to cry.
“What on earth did you do?” Seungmin’s hand is covering his mouth and he must be so angry.
Then Felix begins to laugh, they’re laughing at him and he knows he deserves it. The bell in the front chimes and Seungmin disappears, but Felix is still laughing.
He speaks through breathless giggles and Jisung feels like a child, “Minho, can you help him find a change of clothes? I can clean this up.”
“Sure,” Minho’s laughing too and Jisung can’t stop apologizing, frantic to repair what he’s done. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
The prince apologizes again before following Minho, taking a deep breath and swallowing the lump in his throat. He can’t cry, this is his fault. “That was so stupid, I should’ve looked at where the opening in the bag was.”
“It’s okay,” Minho’s voice is reassuring, but it’s not okay. He fucked up, Minho shouldn’t be reassuring him. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop as Minho wets a small rag, but Minho’s eyes are soft as he turns around. “I don’t think I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen Felix do the same thing, and he owns the place.”
It doesn’t help, Felix can make those mistakes, he pays for the stuff. Jisung shouldn’t be allowed the same slack.
Jisung keeps his eyes trained on the ground as Minho gently takes his face in his hands, working the wet rag against his cheeks to get the flour off. He can tell Jisung doesn’t believe his reassurances, pausing in his movement.
“Hey, princess,” Minho cups his hand beneath Jisung’s chin, lifting his head as carefully as he can. Jisung is going to break when he looks at Minho, the eyes trained on him are filled with as much sincerity as Minho can muster and Jisung is going to break. “No one is mad, I promise. Would it make you feel better to know that the first time Felix tried to teach me to bake I nearly burnt the whole place down because I forgot I put cookies in the oven?”
That pulls a small giggle out of Jisung as he imagines the scene playing out. He’s still not totally confident that no one is made, but it helps a little. “Yeah, I guess that makes me feel a little better.”
“Good,” Minho returns to wiping down the rest of Jisung’s face, and Jisung tries to convince himself he doesn’t feel the other linger on the corner of his mouth for longer than anywhere else. “Now let me get you some different clothes. Felix’s should fit you fine for now.”
He isn’t gone for long, returning with some clothes for Jisung to change into, leaving again to return to the bakery. Jisung takes a moment to breathe, trusting that Minho was telling the truth when he said no one was mad, before making his way back into the kitchen.
Felix had finished cleaning up, the surfaces looking identical to how they had before he’d spilled the flour, and Felix smiles when he returns. He seems to recognize the surprise on Jisung’s face as he surveys the spotless room, laughing before telling him, “I spill things in here more often than I’d like to admit. I’ve got a system for cleaning the place up at this point.”
With that, Jisung’s shoulders finally relaxed, knowing he truly hadn’t made the other angry.
He’s quickly put back to work, rolling out a sheet of dough as he listens to Felix quietly humming. The bell on the door in the bakery chimes signaling the entrance of a customer, but through the door, they can hear the guarded tone Seungmin uses. Felix looks at Jisung before raising a finger to keep him quiet, both silently moving to the door to try and figure out what’s happening.
As they peek through the slightly open door, they watch a short man in front of Minho swing his fist towards Minho’s face. The older simply catches the man’s wrist though, face impassive as he brings what Jisung assumes is one of his knives to the man’s stomach. “Get lost, or I’ll make sure your buddies have to carry you home.”
The man falls back as Minho lets go, and the group doesn’t take long to scramble their way out the door quickly.
“Are you alright?” Felix quickly moves into the bakery, coming up beside Seungmin as
he returns a short nod, but it’s clear he’s more shaken than he wants to say. “Come on, a glass of water won’t hurt.”
The freckled boy locks eyes with Minho as he leads Seungmin into the back, and Jisung watches as he moves towards the bakery door, pulling it shut and locking it.
Minho's face is still stoic when he returns to the counter, no emotion making it past his carefully constructed mask.
“Are you okay?” Jisung moves closer to the older, wanting a clear view of his eyes, needing to see past that mask in case Minho tries to sneak his way out of the conversation.
That isn’t what happens, though. The impassive expression slides off his face immediately, replaced by a cute smile that Jisung wants so desperately to feel against his own lips. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Jisung’s train of thought is cut off as Mniho brushes a piece of hair from his face, his hand slipping further into his hair as he brushes through it. “Felix said he’d help you dye it?”
He doesn’t even hear the question at first, offering a short hum, the only thing his foggy mind can produce. Minho is so close, he’s right there and Jisung’s mind is thinking dangerous things. “He was saying black would be the safest since I’d stand out the least, but that he could lighten it for a bigger change.”
The door behind him opens, and Minho ruffles his hair one more time before removing his hand. He lowers his voice as he comments, “You’ll look pretty no matter what.”
And god his smile is saccharine. Jisung knows it’s at his own expense, the elder smirking at what is likely flaming red covering his cheeks, but it’s worth it to see that smile. He moves towards the door, making some comment about heading into town, and Felix replies from the kitchen. But Jisung’s mind is so loud that he hears none of it.
-
“I was promised a well-fed and rested Minho would give me more kisses,” Jisung crosses his arms, pouting as Minho moves through the door.
Minho smirks over his shoulder, looking at the pouting boy. “Didn’t say when. Guess you’ll have to be patient, princess.”
Minho’s resolve seems weak though, as he only lets the boy pout for a moment longer before pulling him to his chest and kissing it off him.