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A bitterness sat on his tongue as his mother spoke, strangling the sweetness of fruit. A fervor in her voice, hands slamming down on the table. The clank of her ring as it met hardwood might as well have been the knock of a gavel. A decree in her words. The grey sprouted at her temples looked all the more prominent as she gestured toward the map laid out over the table, all the advisors with their grim faces nodding along. An emboldening speech he knew the end of because she'd told him already. Didn't want his face giving anything away, as if it ever did beyond what he wanted her to see.
It was only as the crunch of his bite through the pear resonated through the room did he notice they had all gone quiet. A heaviness settled on his frame, the weight of their gazes. Eyes turned on him where he'd draped himself over his chair. The hard set of expectant faces seemed to go through a myriad of emotions. Some confused, others disgusted. All followed by a wave of despair as they turned to look to their Crown Princess instead. The jewel of the kingdom, and its future. Yeji sat with her back straight, gaze trained ahead on their mother. But a light of sympathy could be found in the glance sent his way.
Of course their mother would see him as the pawn. Just the son; not even a crown prince. That weight went to his sister and to he—this. This, a treaty brokered between two kingdoms on the cusp of war. A war he was quite certain they would have won, but at what cost? He didn't envy his sister.
Ruling had never been Hyunjin's style.
Disposable as he was, they could do a number of things with him. An advisor, perhaps, if he wisened up; a mentor for the younger men of nobility, if he wasn't such a bastard; a young, attractive face to be placed like decoration to the highest or most beneficial bidder. In this case, his lot had fallen to the last option. And even still, if he should perish on the way they could simply blame it on the kingdom he was to be sent to and press them for compensation. More money in the coffers.
His brow raised at the thought, just in time for his mother's proclamation, "What we need is a militant ally. The Bang Kingdom is paramount to this victory."
He stilled. The first thought he had of the aforementioned kingdom was not a great one. In fact, the only image he could conjure of the place was that of barbarians and savage monsters that tore through their lands. Or so every merchant he allowed to entertain him would say. They spun stories about them, and the bobbles they managed to pull from those lands.
"Are you certain they would agree to this proposal?" Somehow, it stung to hear his sister say this. He knew, to a degree, that it must have been said for his benefit. But her tone almost made it seem like he wasn't a prize worth going to war for. Especially for a people that seemed to love their war games.
"Absolutely, they will." For once, his mother has no doubts about him. Maybe because this was meant to be his only worth. "I am certain." Whatever she knew, she didn't seem inclined to share.
Hyunjin's stomach churned.
Scattered glances angled toward him with this remark of certainty. Almost as if they couldn't believe it. Neither could he. But he knew, unlike them, that there was more to this. With this single remark, she'd set the stage and sent the extra players off. A murmur traveled among the advisors as they stood, paid their respects with a renewed vigor of gossip on their tongues, and emptied the room.
With no audience to play for, his mother's impassioned expression shifted to something more subdued, scheming. Somehow, she looked softer. The furrow of her brow smoothed out as she let the cogs in her head turn and spin. Mouth not quite worked up to a smile, but getting there. It was like youth had been injected back into her, a certain delight in her step as she paced. At her sweetest, at her worst; she turned to him.
"All we really need is an army. Marriage secures us that. The man himself is useless." Right. Hyunjin glanced toward his father, sullen and shadowed. Forgotten, mostly, as his mother paced. She tucked an errant strand of brown hair back into her braid. "All of that will shift over to us with your union, and then we can be done with him. His cooperation is truly just a bonus, but men like the Bangs are still too arrogant to just hand things over with no questions asked."
Her voice had taken a conversational pitch. As if they were discussing something routine, and not the fate of her son's betrothed. She rounded the table, fingers rubbing together. Her hands found his shoulders, resting on them with nothing maternal and everything possessive. "After the marriage is over, you kill him."
The sharp inhale that sounded was not from him. He glanced toward his sister first, expression unchanged. The same rigid set of pseudo-boredom his mother had trained into her. His father had taken to looking out the window, as if the conversation didn't concern him. No more than a pretty decoration to stand beside his mother.
Her fingers curled tighter around his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his clothes. "It'll be like the others." Her smile was sweet, one hand reached up to cup his cheek. Perhaps it was supposed to be reassuring. All it did was turn his stomach into knots as she patted his cheek. Like the knoll of a funerary bell, condemning him to this action.
"Of course, Mother." A nod of his head. No argument; he'd learned a long time ago that to fight was futile. Not with her, not with this. His rebellion would happen in other ways. He took another bite of his pear, seemingly unfazed by this mission given to him.
His mother smiled. Her thumb slid over his cheekbone. A survey of his features, an appraisal of him before she spoke again, "Good boy." She drew back, her sweetness and affection done. "They will be arriving tomorrow. They've some…custom where you must marry in their land. But we will hold a wedding here first, and then they will escort you there. Do it after the second wedding. How you do it won't matter." Just that it must be done. The words unspoken but there.
Hyunjin was more concerned about their arrival.
"Tomorrow? So when will the ceremony be held here?"
His mother paused, hands clasped together as if he should have just known. "The day after. There's a lot of traveling, so once the ceremony is over, you will leave."
Two days. Two days, and then he would be thrown into this with no way out. Energy for him exhausted, his mother inclined her head toward his father. A silent command he'd long since learned. The man followed her out like a shadow, leaving the twins behind. Only then did Yeji's mask break. A falter in the perfect face she wore for everyone else.
"I'm sure it'll be fine." Her voice trembled just a bit. "It might be a little harder to deal with…them, but you'll make it out."
"Right; because murdering my new husband in his kingdom will go over terribly well."
"Very funny."
"But, it's true. I've seen my fair share of angry mobs already."
"Whatever you say. Come; they must be sending the tailor to your room. We mustn't make the poor man wait."
They received them from the servants' entrance.
Hyunjin himself wasn't even there. He watched from a window on the second floor of the palace as their horses were nothing more than ants in the distance. Imagined the fields they must have torn through as their caravan sped to the palace. The way bodies bound in skin only just veiling full frames of muscles barreled on to what was supposed to be the laurels of victory. Did they ride that way into battle? Gallant and thundering as they kicked up dirt in their wake? The ants drew closer, larger, until he could make out horses and their riders. Faceless figures that bounced atop their horses.
The Bang Kingdom's comitatus was not large by any means. Men he could count on one hand. Still small through the window, but with an air of recklessness he could feel all the way up there. Even in their manner of dress. One man hopped down from his horse, something of a smile on his face. Brown hair that bobbed with each step, a nose that looked…big, but at home on his face. Little details he could parse before his attention shifted to the show of bare arms. The sunlight seemed to bounce off it, too, slick with sweat. Muscled like the rest of him must be.
Hyunjin couldn't hear his laugh, but he could see it in the way the other's head tipped back. The others of his retinue laughed as well. Something the servants had said, maybe, but his interest was pulled back to the man. Hard to go elsewhere when the man has taken to staring directly up at Hyunjin's window. His smile remained, a hand raised as if in greeting. Casual, too casual; he drew away from the window.
"Uncouth, all of them." His father's voice was nothing more than a low drone. A voice smothered after many years. The same would surely happen to Yeji's husband if their mother had anything to say about it. "They behave as if they are invincible, you know."
Hyunjin's noncommittal hum seemed to be enough to coerce him to continue. He only ever seemed to be talkative when it was just them. "There is a long history of the Bang royal family with their hands in every war. Every conflict their playground, like children in the sands. They don't value life the same way we do, Hyunjin." As if he weren't to take the life of one of them in a few days' time. "And they give their support so easily. Win or lose, they will be there if there is a war to be had. But with you taking this army from them, maybe the kingdom will learn humility."
"Do you think so?" The words left him before he could stop it.
His father's gaze turned on him. "Nothing like death to be the greatest equilizer."
For a fleeting moment, Hyunjin thought of what his mother's funerary procession would look like. It would probably be a grand thing, a magnificent spectacle the whole kingdom would be forced to partake in. His father's would probably be smaller, more private. Feigning intimacy when it would be just that they didn't want to expend many resources on him. His sister's would likely be grand, too, but he suspected that would be more because she would have been a great ruler by then. He could only hope his body was properly buried.
"We are all the same in death, son. The worms will feast on us and the birds will feast on them in turn." His voice had gotten airy, heady. Smaller, too. Receding into himself as he contemplated likely the same thing Hyunjin did.
Moments such as these were fleeting. A piece of his father that he could see only in the absence of his mother. Another reason to detest being tied to anyone, and welcome the promise of sliding a blade in the man that walked to their stables.
His mother had made quite a show of giving her son away. But that was his purpose, after all. It made sense that it would be the spectacle that it was. Hyunjin was also sure this was just to save face, to be part of the plan. To let the kingdom know that her prized son was being given away to a foreign land for their sake.
His fingers passed over the petals of a flower in full bloom. Plucked in its prime. Couldn't remember the name of it, but it was soft beneath his touch and a blue that was so vibrant, he didn't think it was natural. The groom's suite has been furnished and decorated, suffocating him just as his suit did. A high collar encircled his throat, every inch of him covered up. The only skin shown was his hands. Even those were covered in rings. Hyunjin supposed this was meant to have some sort of symbolism. Maybe for the fact that he'd been engaged and married before, returned to his mother. Used goods being given away.
His stomach clenched around the nothing he'd eaten this morning as his mother's hands found his shoulders. Turned him toward the mirror as she took him in. There was the youthful vigor of scheming in her gaze, and that rare look of pride she sported. Reserved only for these moments, when she'd thought the other marriages would work. This one would, surely, seeing how long it was meant to last. It had to, if the look on her face was anything to go by.
"Do you know what they say about cooking frogs?"
The question felt heavy in the air. Rested beside him like a person all its own. Hyunjin couldn't find it in himself to speak, so he shook his head. Probably for the better. His mother's smile sent a shudder down his spine.
"You mustn't just drop it in a pot with boiling water. It'll jump out, splash about; make a mess of things. No; you must put it in while the water is warm." She smoothed a hand over his suit, righted some kind of ornament. "You turn the heat up slow, so the frog barely notices." His mother had never cooked for herself or anyone, ever. "By the time the water is boiling, the frog will be dead." A softness to her tone, as if she were teaching him this lovingly. Her gaze drifted down to his hands, wrapping one up in her own.
It would have been tender, if not for her grip.
"This is what we are doing; letting the frog simmer." A slight furrow to her brow as she toyed with his ring finger. Soon to be occupied with a wedding band. "And when it's done, we feast."
Hyunjin had never known his mother to impart advice to him in any way. No, that was reserved for his sister. The one would follow in her footsteps and sit on the throne. Someone that the advice would actually do some good. Whatever affection she meant to impart in that moment was only to motivate him into fulfilling her command, and he fell for it. Knew it all the same, but couldn't help the faintest flutter of acknowledgment that came with the pat on his cheek. A thing he had suspected wouldn't happen often from a young age.
The same affection, bafflingly, remained as the music cued for him to make his way down. Down winding steps that made him dizzy until he was at the threshold of the chapel. The pews were lined with decorations and filled with important bodies. Of course; this was a spectacle just as political as it was meant to be entertaining. Anyone with a speck of influence would have been invited, he knew. But it was still a small gathering. Respectable, he was sure, to the people who knew he didn't amount to much.
The smile his mother gave him didn't reach her eyes, but he pretended it did. Not to spoil the sweetness already doled out to him, to hold onto it just a moment longer. But he couldn't say the same for the smile of his soon-to-be husband. A man he was seeing for the first time, but grinned at him as if they had known each other for a lifetime.
It was wolfish, the grin. And sincere enough that he could practically feel it. Like rays of sunlight poking through the stained glass of the windows above them. A canine a touch too long caught the faint pink from the window, eyes gleamed with a sort of pride. A hunter having won his prize, was how Hyunjin suspected this man felt.
They would see how long that lasted.
The officiant's voice droned in the background beside them as Hyunjin studied the other prince. Decent, this time. He would have hoped so; this was their wedding day. The details that hadn't been so clear through the window he had spied the man through were refined. Lines beside his lips as he smiled, even the crinkle of them by his eyes. Brown as the earth, lightened only by the sunlight coming in through the window. A handsome man by all respects, and if this were any other circumstance, Hyunjin might have admired him more.
"I do." His voice was smooth when he spoke, accented.
Right, they still had vows to affirm. "I do." A shallow echo of the other's affirmation.
The officiant closed their book, handing it off to an attendant just to their right. It felt as if an eternity passed with each movement. Done with such precision and care, like this was a ritual of the utmost importance. A pity that it would be for nought, and Hyunjin would find himself back in this place again at his mother's behest.
"By the power vested in me, I pronounce you man and husband." A brief pause, then: "You may now kiss the groom."
Hyunjin was sure he imagined it, his mind wanting to make the best of this, when a flash of shyness passed the other prince's face. Gaze dipped low for just a second before he reached to lift the veil from Hyunjin's face. No fabric to separate them, and the shallow distance between them eaten by a single step. A hand settled over the small of his back; careful. Gentle as he was pulled in closer, another hand carressing his face. The other's lips were soft on his; a stark contrast to the callouses rubbing against his skin. Was the kiss supposed to be fleeting? Nothing more than a press of flesh on flesh for a second before they parted? He couldn't remember what the others had been like in the moment, a sigh leaving him as his lips were parted. Acquiescence to what he had assumed was inevitable. Warm. He had to remind himself to wade in that water for a moment longer. But there was not the slip of tongue or the bite of his lip. The other drew back, seemingly satisfied with this chaste sealing of their vows here.
"I suppose it would do to tell you my name." Hyunjin blinked.
They stood before the caravan as it was loaded up for their departure. The moon had already begun its crawl into the sky, dragging its silvery form through the darkening sky. A reception would not be necessary, his mother had said, since he would be having a second ceremony in their homeland. This had just been a formality, for their people. A fur gifted to him by his new husband was draped over his shoulders, a new ring on his finger. The same husband had taken to fixing the saddle of his horse, a sandy-hide mare with her mane braided neatly. "What?"
"Did you expect to just call me dear husband for the rest of our days?"
Well, he didn't really think there would be much in the way of the rest of their days, if things went his way.
"You can call me Chris, or Chan; whichever feels best on your tongue." That grin of his again. How easily the smiles came to him.
"We'll go with Chan."
The other's grin widened; infuriatingly so. As if he had won yet another prize. "Perfect." With his back turned — a wide one — Hyunjin's congenial smile dropped.
The first night they made camp, it became clear that Hyunjin wasn't much of a rider.
Chan's hands found his body to pull him from his saddle, and Hyunjin couldn't help the whine that left him. His back throbbed, his ass numbed from hours of travel, and his legs ached. The first step on solid ground was barely that, stumbling into his new husband's arms. Anything after was a stiff, uncoordinated imitation of his usual gait. Chan seemed delighted by this, laughter clear as he wrapped an arm around Hyunjin's waist to guide him to the beginnings of his tent.
"It won't always be like this." Amusement rich in his voice, Chan sat him down on a barrel. (Had hefted him up onto it with too much ease. A fluid motion with strong hands on his waist.) "I can have you ride in one of the wagons, instead."
Royal wagons laden with the dowry price of the prince. He would have opted for a carriage, but Chan had been rather firm in his refusal to have one of those behind them. Said it wouldn't have been able to keep up properly; they had ground to cover. But, for all that sense of haste, they'd moved at a snail's pace to accomodate Hyunjin and his…lesser riding abilities.
"I think it would be best I stay in the saddle." The wagon's rocking could be heard from where he'd been toward the front of the procession. To be in it would likely be worse than the horse.
Chan laughed, and said no more. A comfortable quiet settled between them, Hyunjin still seated and the other standing beside him as they watched the tent go up. Pitched with a speed Hyunjin had only ever seen for the biennial hunt. Crates were carried inside and emptied, the sound of hammers used sparsely. The other prince called out to a man slighter than him, a face kissed with freckles and hair a shade darker as the finishing touches were made.
"Felix, what say you on finding one of those cushioned saddles from the wagon? I saw you eyeing them up earlier."
Felix, as he'd been dubbed, glanced first toward Hyunjin, then toward the aformentioned wagon. Then he shrugged. Part of the prince bristled at the gestured, what would have been insubordination. "Shall do." Tone just as nonchalant as the gesture had been, a quick nod of his head.
Before Hyunjin could remark on the percieved rudeness of the situation, Chan was scooping him up once more. An alarmingly easy task as the other hand slipped beneath his thighs and lifted him up with one arm. The press of muscles was clear through his clothing and a warmth settled into his skin that had nothing to do with the heat the night. The tent flap lifted away to reveal nothing luxurious, but clearly with some care in mind.
The frame of a bed constructed crudely, but ladden with a stuffed cover for him to rest on. A blanket laid out at the foot of the bed, and two stools positioned by it. Both with cushions atop them. A small table was toward the corner with another stool. Someone had taken the time to sit a candle on it, but not light it. A partition had been placed to the other side of the tent, and he assumed a basin had been placed there for them to bathe.
Water, he remembered, needed to only be warm before the heat was turned up.
His arm slung over the other's shoulder, drawing a glance his way, but he didn't meet Chan's gaze. Let him have the illusion of Hyunjin getting more comfortable with him, but not too much so. Chan laid him down on the bed, and then promptly got on his knees.
"What're you—"
"We've no maids here to undress you, but I will take off your boots. Your feet must be tired." Said so simply that Hyunjin couldn't find it in himself to protest. Not that he had much chance to, even as the laces were pulled open and his boots slipped off. Rough fingers brushed over socked feet, careful as he worked them over. A massage that Hyunjin still couldn't protest, attention quickly stolen by the appearance of one of the more brawny men of the entourage. The bowl in his hands looked tiny in comparison to him, but didn't change that he himself was not so tall.
"Stew and bread; the meat's fresh — Your Majesty." The last words tacked on quickly, as if he were correcting a blunder before it could be made. Chan hummed his acknowledgment, lifted a hand in dismissal. The man moved to set the bowl down, lips doing something Hyunjin didn't quite get as he glanced down at his crown prince on his knees, before he disappeared once more.
It took him a moment to realize the other man was trying not to laugh.
Somewhere along the way, the manicured grasslands of his home had melted into something else. The grass grew wilder, tangled and vibrant. The trees denser, more gnarled. The sun still weaved its fingers through the leaves to find them, leaving sweat in its wake. Hyunjin was quite certain he'd never get the smell of it to go away. Even when Chan's men drew him water from rivers and creeks to bathe in, and to scrub at his clothes — which were far from suited to all this travel — it was still there.
And he found he didn't hate it so terribly.
The morning of the fifth day, the cycle of riding broke. Not the way that Hyunjin had expected, or wanted. Or maybe he did expect it, and had forgotten to keep track of that expectation.
Something had to give, after all. As sequestered as he was in the tent, and riding beside Chan, he had come to know the men of the comitatus to be the restless sort. Expected of their ilk, so used to combat and danger and did he mention being boisterously drunk? Somehow, it had not dawned on him that they would stop to hunt. The trees grew closer together, and their path had narrowed; he could confidently say they had made their way into a forest. It was just that he wondered if anything hadn't run at the sound of them.
It was Chan who had suggested it, throwing the flap of the tent open as he made his way inside.
"We're hunting today." A giddiness to his voice as he bounced on the balls of his feet, arms swinging. Too much like an overgrown child, excited to pull someone into a hobby. Already dressed, too. "The boys said they'd spotted ample game when we make the trek to you." He licked his lips at this, sounded nearly breathless with the prospect.
And all Hyunjin could do was groan and pull the blankets further over his head.
But it hadn't stopped the inevitable: there he was, dressed and ready for a hunt he wished to do anything, but partake in. And maybe seriously considering killing his husband now to get it over with. A scowl settled over his lips as he watched the others ready a bow and arrows for him. He thought he'd heard something murmured about it being a gift as it was passed into his hands, too busy staring down at it in disbelief.
"You're looking at it as if you don't know how to use it." A chuckle to follow as Chan approached.
"I don't."
Another chuckle, perhaps more a sputter of incredulity, left the man. "You've never shot a bow and arrow before?"
"Never had reason to."
"Not even a single hunt?"
Hyunjin would describe the other's face as crestfallen when he shook his head. A sag to his shoulders as he glanced back to the other men all getting ready. Strapping on light gear; one glanced their way, pausing as he watched his prince deal with his uppity new husband. Chan placed his hands on his hips, stared down at the ground a moment.
"I'll teach you, then. Try at least once. You might like it." Decisiveness as he nodded, already on the mood.
"I've no intentions of learning anything. You can all just run along—"
"It wouldn't be safe to leave you behind." Hyunjin flinched as a hand was placed at his back, pushing him forward. "I promise: you'll like it more than you think. We can just start you off with something easy. Let me show you how to use that first."
Chan led him slightly away from the camp, still within sight. He drew a knife from his belt as he spoke again, "Practice hitting this target a few times." He was carving it out before Hyunjin could even ask what target?
His ears warmed as he thought of how wrong this could go. His hands were used to fitting around the hilt of a blade no longer than his hands. A thief's dagger; a treacherous blade he'd not even used that much. His mother had wanted him nowhere near archery, considering Yeji had been a bit of a prodigy in it. Nothing to outshine or come close to her brilliance. Hunting, of course, would have been out of the question.
He stood there, bow in hand as the other walked back to him. Stared at the target freshly cut into bark. Chan grinned, turning to look back at his hastily made practice range. His steps slowed, a murmur on his lips.
"This should be far enough. We wouldn't be able to get any closer to prey unless it was already wounded." He sniffed, attention back on Hyunjin and the bow. "Here, you must hold it like this."
Hyunjin should have braced himself for the other to come in as close as he did. Close enough that he could smell the other so clearly. Nothing else to obscure the smell of the sun's shine on his skin, the sweat in his clothes. Not all that dissimilar from how he smelled, but layered with that bite of metal and the oils he used to clean his leathers at night. A hint of it fruity, nutty; he might have even dared to say there was something like soap in there.
The other slotted himself behind Hyunjin with ease of someone that had no other place to be. Like he belonged right there. Hands slid up his arms, posing him as he must. It felt like it was harder to swallow with the other's breath on his neck and his arms loosely around him. A warmth that radiated into his gut, hotter as Chan used his leg to part his thighs and make him shift his weight. All done far too easily, no haste to the movement. Nothing about it practiced and all too natural as Hyunjin tried to focus on the fact that the man was also talking to him. Talking him through the stance as if this was the proper means of instruction for a new learner.
"Make sure the arrow is notched securely. Your guard will protect your hand when you let it go, but watch for the strings. Maybe we should have gotten you a chest guard."
Hyunjin's brow twitched. Even the other taking a breath could be felt; his chest against Hyunjin's back and his lips by his ear.
"Focus."
A shiver coursed through him, his face hot. Chan would have felt that, surely.
"Breathe."
A little hard to do, presently.
"Let go."
Hyunjin tensed, but did as he was told. The arrow flew, but wavered. Dipped low and missed the target entirely as it fell short. He swallowed thickly, ready to let his arms drop, but there was Chan stopping him.
"Another one." His voice was gentle, but firm. Not quite an order, but certainly not a request. There was a brief respite from the other manhandling as he pulled another arrow from the quiver and lined it up as he had been shown. But then he was engulfed once more.
Minor tweaks to his stance, but the other remained impossibly close.
"Now."
The whisper of the word on the shell of his ear. His fingers twitched, and then released. It flew further this time, the arrow. Landed just under the target. Chan seemed satisfied with this, finally giving Hyunjin space.
"You know, you're very touchy for someone that doesn't want to share a tent with me." Hyunjin hadn't intended so much bite to be in the words when they left him. He almost expected the other to have some choice words, but instead he snorted.
"I can be a lot touchier than that." A mischief in his eyes as he stepped back toward the camp. "Come, you'll get the rest of your practice during the hunt."
Their meat of the evening was venison. If Hyunjin felt any pride for having wounded the beast, he didn't share it over their meal. He would have called it a lucky shot. Would have written off the heat in his belly as Chan congratulated him just the remnants of their hot meal. He wouldn't have taken note of the way the men seemed to gravitate toward him now, pleased to know their king's new consort wasn't a stuffy little prick. He certainly didn't pretend to be asleep when Chan joined him in bed for the first time on their journey.
"We met once."
Chan had slipped into the bed beside him for the third night. It had been so quiet, the other's breathing so even and low that it had melted into the wind rustling the leaves outside of their tent. He'd thought the other asleep before his voice broke the quiet. There was a secret in his tone, as if he thought Hyunjin was sound asleep, as well.
"You likely don't remember."
Hyunjin's brows furrowed, but he didn't respond. Let the quiet stretch before the other was speaking again.
"We were — I couldn't have been anymore than sixteen, I don't think. You were younger. Of course you were." A soft chuckle followed the words. Quiet, as if he didn't want Hyunjin to hear this impulsive confession. "You were engaged to someone else. My father had taken me with him for war talks. Just a year off before he died."
Each word was a weight that rested on Hyunjin's frame. He reached into the recesses of memory to find when this might have been — but he'd been engaged many times before. Each one broken, with him being sent back home. But this must have been an early one; too far back for him to remember.
"My father…didn't think I was ready to hear what everyone would say of us. The nicest thing I'd heard them say was that we were no more than mercenaries masquerading as royalty." A scoff, then. Something rustled and he thought the other might have turned over. His voice was quieter as he continued, drifting with his consciousness."He told me to sit out, wander the halls and make a menace of myself. You were in one of the rooms I wandered into. Ready for tea and surrounded by this-this absurd amount of servants. They all looked as if they wanted to be somewhere else and you…You looked beautiful. And sad."
A pause so long, he thought Chan had talked himself to sleep.
The snore that followed confirmed it.
Their days of travel could not last forever. Hyunjin had known that, but perhaps somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd hoped that they would. To hold onto that taste of sunshine away from his family, his mother. But the threat of his mission loomed in the distance, coming upon them faster with each passing day. He did wonder, though, if it had taken the other this long to get to him. They'd still must have left days before Hyunjin's mother had made any sort of announcement of his engagement and subsequent marriage, which had happened in such quick succession. A moment of watching the other prince as he recalled the way he'd rode in.
The sun had begun its crawl toward the horizon, turning the sky from blue to orange to purple. Sleep sought to take him, so used to the caravan pulling up camp by now. But they had been too close to stop, and Chan had been too excited. He was hardly awake when the other pulled him from his horse and carried him into their matrimonial home.
Home, of course, was perhaps the wrong word. Palace would have been the respectable word for it, but after touring it when he was fully awake, fortress would be better. A thing he'd seen in paintings of old wars, with its towers and the peek of cannons. It hadn't been painted to be anything else than what it was. Distinguished and almost as if it radiated a pride for the war it must have seen, and likely would continue to see.
The wedding followed two days after, perhaps a little simpler than the ceremony and reception his mother had put together. The care, however, was evident. So much more apparent in the colors and details. The tailoring of his suit, while done quickly, had not been rushed. The decorations were not the standard fare, but consisted of things linking their two kingdoms together. The colors matching, the emblems across from each other. An attempt made to blend them together, to symbolize their union — effort put into it that hadn't been done for their first ceremony.
His mother had not wanted to waste money from the coffers for it. Had not wanted to waste the funds that could go to his sister's wedding, even if it were still far off. Because, of course, they would need time to plan it out perfectly. Here, was different.
His steps up the altar felt so drastically different. No family to give him away, but still witnessed by people that had offered him more care in the days leading up to the moment of exchanging rings than any that had witnessed him before.
Chan kissed him as if this was truly the start of their lives together. As if he might love him; if not in that moment, then surely later. The kind of marriage that a royal would have been lucky to have. That he would have been lucky to have. Pulled in close, a smirk he could feel against his lips before the other truly kissed him. A hand crept up his back as applause carried. That chaste kiss had turned into something else, something longer, something that made heat spread through his body. When Chan pulled back, the smirk had softened into a smile.
Nausea almost sent him running.
The reception was strange. The common folk had been allowed in to enjoy the festivities. Music had rang out into the open field it was held in without preamble. Children raced around the grounds, no distinguishing a noble child from common cur. Merchants spoke with clients stations below them as if this were a dinner gathering. Hyunjin might have looked surprised when a young girl came forward to offer him a flower crown, the blooms pulled from the decorations.
A sip of wine had him joining a group dance he couldn't begin to make sense of the steps to, his laughter true as it rang through the air. And then, somewhere in the night, drunk of this pleasantry and distance from the oppressing glare of his mother, his husband took him away.
He was glad that there wasn't that archiac tradition of witnesses. They wouldn't have been able to see how easily he let himself melt into Chan's embrace.
The softer kisses of the evening, done mostly for show — to let the water heat slow — had turned into something deeper. Deep enough that teeth knocked together and it was only to laugh for less than a second and breathe that they parted. But then they were back on each other.
Somehow, they moved further into the room. Stumbled back enough to get to the bed before Hyunjin nearly tripped, only to be caught by Chan. There was an urgency to his hold that didn't feel possessive, but as if he were trying to keep the other from falling away from him again.
"We don't have to do this." It was tentative, this offer. His voice bordering on uncertain as Chan held him close. Looked at him as if to be sure of something. Searched the lines of his face for a response first, before hearing Hyunjin.
"I want to." He must let the temperature rise slowly. Hyunjin ground his hips against the other's. "I want you." How easily the words came to him, when he meant it.
Chan set him down on the bed with ease, gentle as he let the other slip from his grasp to be cushioned by thick blankets that threatened to suck him in. He'd thought about this — not from this perspective, looking up at the other as he did now — but now that he was here, his heart hammered in his chest. A delightful buzz and wine still on his lips as Chan did as he had done many nights before: took his shoes off. Worked them off without resistance, no protest from Hyunjin. His fingers curved around his ankles, thumb rubbing circles just over the bone. A kiss pressed there, too, on their ankle before his hands traveled up and up and up.
He could feel the other tremble. Almost imperceptible, but there. A slight fumble as he reached Hyunjin's buckle; Chan sucked in a short breath, paused. Steadied himself over his husband — more official now, somehow — before he pulled his pants down slow. He let rough knuckles slide over smooth skin. Hyunjin wasn't sure if it was more for his detriment or benefit. Only to realize it was both as Chan looked back up at him. Brown eyes trained him to watch his reaction, jaw clenched with restraint. The tremor was anticipation, not nerves.
He should have guessed.
"You're beautiful." The quiet broken once more as Chan surged back up to meet his lips, brushing his own over them. "So beautiful."
The wine on his breath wasn't strong enough to have clouded any sort of judgement, and he knew better, anyhow. Chan had drank his men under the table several times in their travels to get here, to this point, and he surely wouldn't have wasted this moment in a drunken stupor. Heat pooled into him, seeped into his bones with the urge for the other to touch him more. For his large palms to find his skin and his mouth on him, even if he spoke those pretty words at him.
So he closed that mere centimeter between them to kiss him. Wrapped around his arms around his neck to draw him in closer. Had his pants been fully off, he would have wrapped his legs around his waist, too. Hyunjin's fingers threaded through Chan's hair as their lips worked over each other, tangling into the strands. His lips parted on a sigh, a moment to catch his breath. And then he left them open like an invitation. Chan accepted.
The restraint, slow pace he'd had before of undressing Hyunjin was forgotten. Something more desperate was favored as the pop of buttons filled the room. A chuckle against his lips as Hyunjin struggled to do the same for a moment, huffing when he couldn't get the other's clothes off fast enough. The massacre of fabric that must have taken ages to put together into a complete garment was forgotten as they sank further into the blankets and sheets.
Chan's skin was hot on his own, and yet not hot enough. Not close enough. A desparate scramble to pull him closer reciprocated. The other's fingers dug into his skin, hard enough that they might bruise. Pressed down into the mattress as Chan seemed to reluctantly pull away. Enough for his lips to travel to his jaw, to his neck, and then lower. Teeth grazed the skin of his collarbone. His nose pressed into his navel as he drew lower down Hyunjin's body. Those hands — every present — held him in place as began to squirm.
His lips were everywhere but where Hyunjin wanted them to be. Tasting him, toying with him. A groan left him as he reached for the pillow to keep from pulling the other toward him. Curled into blankets and sheets as Chan kissed at his hip, tongue gliding over his skin as it traveled finally, blessedly toward his cock. A hand around his shaft and the other still holding him down, Chan left his kisses as he made his way up to the crown of his cock.
Chan's mouth was wet and warm, fitting over his cock without hesitation. Hyunjin looked down at him, hips threatening to buck up. The threads of restraint he held himself to were fraying fast. He sought for purchase to ground himself higher up on the bed as Chan slid lower down his shaft — and his breath caught in his throat.
He had forgotten about it, the knife under the pillow. Placed there ahead of time with such certainty of its use. His fingers brushed against the cold handle and he looked down once more at Chan. The other had been in the water long enough, the heat turned up just right. Hyunjin could see it; could see the perfect angle to stick the blade in. Could see himself jamming it into the other's neck. Could see the spray of blood and perhaps the look of betrayal on the other's face as he realized what was happening to him—
"Stop."
The word was out of him before he could stop himself. Repeated again when Chan didn't pause, perhaps not hearing him. He did, then, pulling off of him with a wet pop and brows furrowed.
"Are you alright?" No discontent at being interrupted, but concern.
"I'm fine. I just—" He drew in a shaky breath, licked his lips. Tried to ignore the way Chan watched him, waited. Didn't rush him, but sat up to give him more space. He winced and looked away, unable to meet his gaze for a moment. His mind blanked, and no excuse could come to mind so he said only what he wanted, "I want to ride you."
Relief hit the other first. Shoulders that had tensed rolled down, the furrow in his brows smoothing out. He almost wanted to laugh at the sight. His fingers slipped away from the knife.
"I won't say no to that." The other does laugh. A sweet, pleased sound as he moved to readjust them.
Even with Hyunjin on top, seemingly doing all the work now, Chan managed to be at the helm. A natural leader, one would say. Produced the oils needed for Hyunjin to slick his fingers and open himself up. A hand on his hip to steady him as his thighs quivered, room filling with moans and breathy sighs once more. He watched, unwavering, as Hyunjin arched into his own touch, rocked his hips back on his fingers. Exposed — open for Chan to do as he pleased, and for once he didn't feel that lick of rage. A shudder, instead, as the other's gaze darkened as he slipped a third finger into himself.
His grin was shaky at best, falling short of the teasing he wanted as he drew his fingers out of himself and lined the other's cock up to his entrance. It faltered as the tip pressed into him, his own weight betraying him as he slid down the other's shaft. Each inch ever present, every vein felt.
He sucked in a breath as the other groaned, gripped at his hips harder. Felt Chan shake he attempted to keep himself from bucking up into Hyunjin as he adjusted the to the girth of the man. A moment spent relishing in the fullness before Hyunjin moved. A testing rock of his hips before he set himself into motion. His heart picked up its pace in his chest, drowning out thought. Smothered the image of blood.
Chan kept him from rushing himself. Fingers pressed into his hips, ensuring the slow drag of his dick in and out of Hyunjin. A pace forced until Hyunjin whined, aching with a need for more. And then his grip slackened, leaving Hyunjin to impale himself on Chan's cock. The moan ripped from him filled the room. His thighs quivered as he lifted himself up once more, struggling with each rock of his hips as his pace faltered.
And still, Chan watched him. Breath ragged and praises on his tongue, he watched. Let Hyunjin use him to drown out whatever it was that ailed him. He couldn't have known, of course. Couldn't have thought of anything other than the way Hyunjin's cock bobbed or the way sweat slid over his skin. Hyunjin was sure it was nothing else but lust. The same lust that propelled him toward his orgasm.
It was sudden. A clench around Chan, a thrust from the man beneath him at just the right angle; he came fast. All the tension released and the strength taken from him. His seed spilled over Chan's chest, painting his abs white. He flopped forward, Chan catching him.
The other put them on their side, turning Hyunjin over to press his chest into his back. The smear of his own cum didn't bother him, more concerned with the loss of Chan's cock. The hard line of it against his back for a moment. Kisses around his ear, the back of is head. Fervent, urgent. Not enough to distract from the way Chan guided his cock between Hyunjin's thighs, the slick heat of it against his skin. His own cock twitched with weak interest, not yet recovered from his climax.
"Is this alright?" Strained where it came from beside his ear. It took him another moment to realize what he was being asked before Hyunjin nodded. "Is it?"
"God, yes."
He thought have heard the other murmur something into his skin, forgotten as his cock slipped between his thighs. All the patience Chan had before had melted in his pursuit of his own release. Hands holding Hyunjin down into the bed as he fucked into his thighs. His cock ground against the other's balls with each thrust. The echo of skin slapping against skin was loud enough to drown out his moans. His nails bit into Chan's skin where he held his arms, weakly rocking his hips back to meet the other.
Chan's hips pumped faster, as if he were trying to make up for all that restraint shown. Words moaned into his skin — so beautiful, so good for me — between the press of more kisses. The other's arms were strong around his waist, pulling him back toward him with each thrust. His lust-addled mind half-wondered what that would have been like to let him fuck him in the first place. Then, it so helpfully supplied him with the knowledge that they could just do this again. His thighs squeezed tighter around Chan at the thought.
The other's thrusted stuttered, a groan in Hyunjin's ears as warmth spilled over his thighs. The other's shudder echoed through him as his thrusts began to stagger, then stop. Chan's hand spread flat over his stomach, his mouth pulled away from Hyunjin's shoulder as he caught his breath. But then he was back, pressing them cheek to cheek.
There would have been a complaint if not for the way Chan's arms wrapped around him. The way a sated sort of hum left him, echoed into his skin as the other pressed up against him. Close, impossibly close. Closer than they'd been in the woods.
He slipped in sleep, the knife forgotten where it was hidden beneath their heads.
Chan must have woken some time in the morning before Hyunjin. Had to; they were clean. No cum on his skin — unless they had rubbed it all into the sheets. A thought that should have made him feel dirty, but his mind had already moved on. Shifted instead to the sleeping form that weighed him down. He'd shifted onto his stomach, with Chan wrapped around him from behind. Low enough to rest his head near the small of his back. His breath was warm over his skin.
He looked so peaceful, from what he could see. Could feel the soft movement of his chest as he breathed in. So serene, so young. Once more, this peace was interrupted by the thought of how easy it would be. His fingers moved unconsciously toward the knife. His mission, his chance at freedom right within reach. He ignored the feel of the sheets against his skin or their smell in them. The stink of sex that hadn't yet left a perfume to this murder he would soon commit.
But, then, Chan stirred. Moved just the slightest bit to turn his head up in his sleep and it threw Hyunjin off. The blade cut over the other's eye, rather than into it like he'd meant. Chan's other eye flew open, his hand shooting up to grab at Hyunjin's wrist.
He wrestled with him for the knife. Knocked it out of his hand over the edge of the bed. Not yet fully awake, and he'd gotten the better of Hyunjin so easily. His laughter would have been bitter if it'd left his throat. Trapped there instead at the sight of the emotion playing out over the other's face. He would have expected betrayal if he had the mind to think of his own failure. Instead, it was confusion first. A furrowing of the other's brows as his brain caught up to his body. Lips parted and nostrils flared as anger seeped into its place. Only to be met with that confusion once more — and the other drawing away from him as if he had been lit aflame.
The quiet stretched on, a lid over a pot as they boiled beneath it.
"Why?" A single word to lift the lid. No venom in it, but still that confusion.
"Because that was what I was told to do."
"But we—"
"You don't cook a frog by dropping it in boiling water." The words were bitter on his tongue. Enough to turn his stomach, to feel that bite of bile. "You add to the fire slowly."
Chan almost visibly turned the phrasing over in his head, pulling the words apart to parse their meaning. His brows furrow deeper, a grimace on his lips as he caught on.
"Why?"
Again.
"Why?"
Again.
"Why?" But he didn't lunge for Hyunjin, and the question had begun to lose its bite. Gone to something softer, something hurt. A wounded animal looking at the hunter.
Hyunjin had tried to forget why. He had always known his only use was marriage. His mother wouldn't have let him hold a position of any sort; that was power wasted on him, in her mind. No, he was to play his role as the pawn perfectly. This marriage was supposed be the final move of him on the chess board. Killing Chan would have cemented his status as a widower, as his mother had known it would, but they would have gained something. He would have gained something.
"It was the only way I would be free." The words practically fought him to be released. Gritted out through clenched teeth. "It was the only way I would become useless to her, finally."
The hurt was still there in Chan's voice when he spoke again. "So, you would kill me and damn yourself to being hunted down for a taste of freedom?"
"Even for the briefest moment."
A pause, the drip of blood from the other's face more apparent on their sheets. For just a second, he diverted to it. "Head wounds bleed more. You've not done as much damage as you think."
"I don't care."
"Good."
The lid was placed over them once more. Remained as Chan rose from the bed. He'd been too distracted in the night to notice, but the other's scars were more apparent in the light of the morning. Uncovered, no clothing to hide them. Silvery marks that laced over his skin. Some even jagged and raised; all joined by Hyunjin's clawings at his back. He felt sick all over again.
"My mother wants your army." The admission tumbled out of his mouth, spilled into the air like a pot turned over. The rotten contents wasted onto the ground. "She said that when we married, the assets would be turned over to me when you died. I-I knew it would look bad if I tried so soon, but she wanted me to play this sick game with you, to make you think I lo—cared about you."
"Do you?" He'd pressed the sheets against his eye, looking over at him with his good eye. "Care about me. Or is this just a play to save your hide?" He sounded more tired than upset, a heaviness to his shoulders as he leaned back against the wall.
"I—" He sucked in a breath, hung his head. Whatever answer he gave would have been taken for a lie. "I do. I have come to care about you."
"Just not enough to not try to kill me."
Hyunjin looked up at him. "I've lived my whole life under her. I'd sooner live a life on the run with some control."
"A prince pampered, says he's smothered by a mother who loves him." There — there was the bite he expected. But the words themself lit a flame in his gut, a churn of his insides. Pampered, he'd said. Smothered.
"She tried marrying me off when I was twelve the first time." A dangerous creep to his tone, a tingle in the back of his throat. "The man was three times my age. His kingdom was so renowned for their mines, their ore. She wanted them, assumed he'd be dead within a year of our marriage. But I didn't even get that far.
He cared more about some damn hunting hounds than he did people. I had the audacity to trip over one of them and step on their tail. And for that — for that he beat me so bad I couldn't walk. Another of them bit me, and I watched as he executed the servant that had pulled it off me for hitting it in the process."
There had been so many. The count from a neighboring kingdom; an aging emissary in search of a spouse to accompany him to his end of days. That second one had been terrifying, learning what he intended to do. What he had almost done. Both, and the rest that followed, all had something his mother wanted for herself, but couldn't outright take. An reputation to upload, even as her son sullied his own to avoid every engagement.
"My arm was broken when they sent me back. But I suppose that's so very normal for you, a mongrel that knows only the battlefield."
There was no retort. No scoff, no rage being flown into at the insult. But instead a chuckle. Not the sweet sounds that had left him before, but something ugly. Just the start of his laughter as he tipped his head back. Laden with that rage that could have been directed him. A measure of disbelief in it, even.
"You've fire in your belly." Said when his laughter had calmed some as he reached for fruit that had been set on a platter. Likely by servants while they'd slept. The same knife he'd tried to kill Chan with was in the man's hands, peeling the fruit. A slice cut off with looked like practiced nonchalance. A rage tempered, directed in other ways. "We can work with that yet."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Well, you tried to kill me for your freedom, knowing what might happen. You took that chance not knowing if I would kill you instead if I caught you — which I did. You want your freedom." He bit into the slice, glancing down at the floor. "And I have always wanted to give that to you. From that first moment I saw you looking so beautiful and sad."
"You knew I was awake?"
"You turn more in your sleep. Case in point our sleeping positions this morning."
"Bastard—"
"Let's not forget who just tried to kill who, here."
Hyunjin's cheeks colored. "So, what does this mean?"
"Well, husband." He let the word marinate, the stretch of a smile on his lips slow. "You now have an army, and your freedom must be won."
"I trust everything went according to plan." Not a question; a statement. As if his mother had known it to be fact when his return had been announced. She'd not even looked in his direction when she'd entered the war room once more.
"Not quite."
It was only then that she looked up at him. Words of annoyance on her tongue, swallowed as her jaw clenched at the sight of him. Her eyes went first to his hair, shorn low. Pratically fuzz atop his head. He'd never felt lighter. Then her gaze trailed lower to his face. To the grin on his lips. Her eyes darted toward his sister's seat, the other sitting the same as she always had.
Everyone gathered before her, and a heavy weight as she found Chan behind Hyunjin. The red of a healing scar over his eye, a wolf's grin on his lips. His hand settled on Hyunjin's shoulder.
"Sit, Mother; we've my freedom to discuss."