Archive of Our Own

Namjoon had met his fiancé once before. When he was ten and Seokjin twelve.

They had jumped out of a window. Seokjin had goaded Namjoon into doing it. Namjoon still wasn’t sure why he had been so insistent. Even back then, even as a kid, it was obvious to Namjoon that Seokjin was terrified of heights. Instead of asking, he had taken Seokjin’s hand and they had jumped together.

They had run away as far and as fast as they could.

They hadn’t made it very far. The guards caught them in the garden less than an hour later. And Namjoon had received the harshest scolding of his life.

But it had been worth it.

To see Seokjin laugh. The sun shining down on him as he ran through the flowerbeds.

It had been the happiest day of Namjoon’s life.

It was that memory that Namjoon clung to today--the day of his wedding.

“They say that he’s beautiful,” said Taehyung dreamily.

Namjoon snorted because his brother was one to talk. Painters and sculptors had flocked to Seoul in the hopes of capturing his beauty and preserving it in their art. Tae found it all rather amusing, but it had sparked his interest in creating his own art. Now if an artist’s style caught his fancy he would agree to sit for them as long as they would teach him in return. No one had yet to refuse.

And Namjoon’s library had started to overflow with his brother’s creations.

Recently Taehyung had drifted away from realistic paintings and had started to dabble in a more abstract style. No one really knew what to make of it, but Namjoon loved it. Out of all those painters and all of those sculptors, no one could capture Tae quite like he could capture himself.

“No, hyung,” said Taehyung as he flopped onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows in order to meet Namjoon’s eyes in the mirror. Namjoon was pretty sure he was supposed to be getting ready for the wedding too and not lounging around on his bed, but Tae had always moved at his own pace and they had almost always let him. “You don’t understand. They say he is beauty personified.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s impossible,” mumbled Namjoon.

Taehyung ignored him. “They say that if you two weren’t engaged so early and if Gyeonggi wasn’t so powerful--wars would have been started for his hand.”

Which...really...must be an exaggeration. It wasn’t possible, right?

Right?

Either way, it did nothing to calm Namjoon’s nerves.

Thankfully Jimin was more helpful. He politely knocked on the doorframe before walking in--a far cry from when they were kids and he would just barge in if the door was unlocked or if the door was locked he would knock with what sounded like his whole tiny body until Namjoon let him in.

“Tae, time to get ready.” Jimin then turned towards Namjoon and smiled as he placed a hand on his arm. “If it’s any consolation, we’ve asked around and everyone says he’s nice.”

“Everyone worships him actually,” added Hoseok grinning as he helped Jimin physically pull Taehyung from the bed. “They’re honestly more worried about you.”

If Hoseok said it, it must be true. He had a way of making friends with everyone--Kings, Queens, Ambassadors, Generals, cooks, housekeepers, farriers, florists, traveling performers, bartenders--Hoseok didn’t even drink! Every instructor they had as kids including the grumpy old lady who had been in charge of their sword training. Literally, everyone was Hoseok’s friend.

And in turn...Hoseok knew everything.

Namjoon let out a sigh. “Hoba.”

“Don’t worry, Namjoonie,” said Hoseok in a singsong voice as he pushed Jimin who was pushing Taehyung out of the room. “I only told them the good stuff.”

And...it wasn’t like Namjoon had been worried about that. He trusted Hoseok implicitly. But also...Hoseok probably had enough blackmail material on him to not necessarily bring down his nation--Taehyung would be a great King--but Namjoon would definitely have to abdicate the throne in order to become a mountain hermit out of sheer embarrassment.

Hoseok paused at the door. Something must have shown on Namjoon’s face because he walked over and placed a hand on his arm.

“You’re going to be fine.”

Namjoon nodded mostly to reassure himself. “I’m going to be fine.”

Hoseok squeezed his arm. “That’s the spirit!”

---

Namjoon was not going to be fine.

Namjoon had been trained his whole life in edict, in ceremony, in formality. He had been taught to school his features. He had been taught how to remain looking dignified. No matter what anyone said or did, no matter how hot or cold the weather, no matter how uncomfortable his clothes were or how heavy his crown was.

Namjoon was heir to the throne, a future King, the pride of Gyeonggi--

And as the doors to the temple swung open, Namjoon found himself gaping like a fish.

He wasn’t the only one. An audible gasp rang through the crowd as his fiance, the second son of the Lord of Gwacheon, stepped into the room.

And Namjoon decided he was allowed to be stunned. Because nothing--nothing--could have prepared him for the vision that was Kim Seokjin in his wedding attire.

The suit he was wearing was simple. Pure white. Elegant in cut. Tailored to emphasize the broadness of his shoulders. The tapper of his waist. The long stride of his legs. The suit didn’t need to be complicated. Not when it was draped on such a body.

Oh. And because of the body chain.

It must have been made of hundreds and hundreds of tiny pearls. They dripped from his neck. Hung from his shoulders. Hugged his broad chest.

And Seokjin walked...he walked like a King.

Head held high. An almost arrogant jut to his chin. His eyes focused and serious as he surveyed the room. The gold crown of delicate leaves on thin branches with pearls acting like blooming buds was balanced perfectly atop his head. The long train of his veil followed in his wake.

Namjoon felt underdressed and unimpressive in comparison. Awkward in his own skin as he watched Seokjin close the distance between them.

It wasn’t until Seokjin was standing next to him that Namjoon fully comprehended what he was getting himself into.

Kim Seokjin walked like a King...and had the face of a god.

A god that gave Namjoon a benevolent smile as he held out his hand. And Namjoon swallowed as he took it.

Taehyung had tried to warn him. A beauty that nations would go to war for. And to think, just a few hours ago, Namjoon had believed that his brother was exaggerating.

Namjoon...was not a graceful person. He knew this. He tended to gesture too broadly when he got excited. He wasn’t careful enough with his limbs. He sometimes didn’t know his own strength. But he felt especially gangly and awkward standing next to Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin who was beautiful and elegant and composed. Who stood with posture so perfect it would have made Namjoon’s edict teachers cry. Who remained perfectly poised with perfect manners.

Who reduced Namjoon to a state of mild panic as he went through the motions of the ceremony.

It wasn’t until they were face to face exchanging rings and vows that Namjoon noticed the subtle blush that started with the tips of Seokjin’s ears and traveled down the long expansion of his neck. The pinkening skin disappeared behind the high ruffled collar of his dress shirt.

And Namjoon absently wondered how far he would be flushed. And then Namjoon blushed when he realized that maybe one day he would be allowed to find out.

“I do,” said Seokjin.

“I do,” said Namjoon.

For all that this ceremony represented, for all of its meaning and importance, Namjoon found himself almost detached from it all. Even as he leaned forward to kiss his husband.

The kiss was chaste. Barely a peck. Namjoon hardly registered it before his mind was moving on and focusing on what he needed to do next. Take Seokjin’s hand. Smile. Think happy thoughts--you just got married! Walk down the aisle. Don’t trip. Don’t trip. DON’T TRIP. Make it through the doors of the temple. Get the hell away from the crowd. Breath. Breath, damnnit. It’s over. You made it. It’s fine. You’re fine.

Namjoon laughed more out of sheer relief than anything else. Next to him, he found Seokjin politely smiling behind his hand.

Seokjin...his husband.

Namjoon held out his hand. The smile he wore was sheepish at best, but it was genuine, and right now the man who had become his husband deserved genuine.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon.”

Seokjin cocked his head to the side as if considering Namjoon for a moment. He then smiled and shook Namjoon’s hand.

“Seokjin. It’s nice to meet you.”

Namjoon squeezed his hand and he found himself smiling in return. “Likewise.”

It really wasn’t the worst start to a partnership.

---

Namjoon bit back a sigh as he stared at the doors to the dining hall.

Not everyone who held power in the Nine Kingdoms had attended his wedding--but a vast majority of them had and every single one of them was waiting for Namjoon and his brand new husband to greet them.

“I hate this part,” he admitted.

Next to him, Seokjin had been nervously spinning the wedding ring on his finger. He was no longer wearing the veil or the pearl body chain from the ceremony. Stripping the more dramatic elements from his attire only made Seokjin appear more regal. All of the focus was now on the crown and the face that it framed.

“It’s okay,” said Seokjin, his eyes focused on the closed doors. “I know we don’t know each other yet...but I’m great at this.”

An hour into their marriage seemed too early to call his husband a liar, but Namjoon could see the nervous tremor in Seokjin’s hands. It was at odds with the confident smile that Seokjin flashed him.

“Trust me?”

Namjoon didn’t get to respond. Not before their names were being announced and the doors to the hall were thrown open. All he could do was reach out and take Seokjin’s hand and squeeze.

Namjoon hadn’t lied. He had always hated the forced socialization that his status demanded. He could confidently talk about trade agreements and diplomatic relations. He could easily make conversation about literature and art and the newest opera. But the moment someone delivered a backhanded compliment was the moment he froze. Suddenly torn between indecision of what to do and what to say. Ridiculous since it was something so small and so petty and--

And Seokjin stepped in the moment he faltered. All sharp smiles and sharper tongue. And Namjoon could do nothing but stand back and marvel at the way Seokjin maneuvered through the conversation. It was like watching someone sword fight while on a tightrope.

Seokjin always managed to find the proper balance. Always managed to find the right thing to say that wouldn’t cause an all out offense but that also made it clear that he would accept no disrespect. To himself…

And to Namjoon.

Seokjin managed to send the last Lord and Lady away. The couple had always talked down to Namjoon because he was so young. They had always disguised their ambition with friendly smiles and pats on the back and the simpering promise of, “We just want to be of service.”

They had tried the same tactic on Seokjin and Seokjin…

Had tied their words into knots. His wit and charm ran circles around them until they didn’t know which way was up and which way was down. And then Seokjin sent them on their way with a polite bow and a smile.

“Pathetic,” murmured Seokjin between his teeth. “Are they always like that?”

Seokjin turned to look at him and Namjoon belatedly realized that he hadn’t answered the question. He had been too busy staring wide-eyed at his husband.

“Yes,” stuttered Namjoon before he found his composure. “Yes. Unfortunately.”

Seokjin hummed as he absently linked his arm through Namjoon’s. He seemed to be filing that information away for later. He was also trembling like a leaf.

“Hey,” said Namjoon quietly as his hand automatically reached out to cover Seokjin’s. “You were amazing.”

“I know,” replied Seokjin without any hesitation. His smile softened as he looked at Namjoon. “But thank you. I...I meant what I said. We don’t know each other yet, but I want you to know you have an ally in me.”

And Namjoon was only partially joking when he replied, “That might very well be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Seokjin snort laughed and Namjoon considered it a win.

---

The rest of the reception passed more pleasantly with Seokjin managing to meet Taehyung and Jimin with only mild embarrassment on Namjoon’s part. Which was honestly the best he could have hoped for when it came to those two.

The duo bombarded Seokjin with too many questions, too quickly and were both delighted when Seokjin could keep up with their rapid pace. They then switched over to tag-teaming on telling stories about Namjoon’s long history of carelessness when it came to worldly possessions, his terrible haircuts, bouts of absentmindedness, love of small and cute things, how the gardens--specifically the flower beds---we’re Namjoon’s favorite place in the castle and--

“Okay, okay! That’s enough for now,” interrupted Namjoon.

Jimin threw back his head and laughed. Clearly delighted. “It was nice to meet you, Seokjin-ssi. Please come find me anytime you’d like to hear any more embarrassing stories about Namjoon-hyung.”

“Please don’t,” muttered Namjoon, though he had a feeling it was a lost cause.

“I will. Thank you,” replied Seokjin with a smile.

Namjoon let out a long sigh.

“Welcome to the family,” said Taehyung. His brother was being strangely formal. It didn’t last long. Taehyung suddenly reached out and clasped Seokjin’s hands. “Will you let me paint you?”

“I--” Seokjin looked from Taehyung to Namjoon and back again. “I...guess?”

Taehyung squeezed Seokjin’s hands. He was practically jumping up and down in excitement. “That’s a promise! Don’t forget! I have a perfect idea for it and Namjoon-hyung has the perfect spot above the fireplace in his library where it could hang!”

“Oh,” said Seokjin, looking more baffled than he had all night. “If...if that’s okay with Namjoon-ah.”

“Of course it is!” declared Taehyung with a smile. He shook--both of Seokjin’s hands...at the same time. “I’m so glad you married my brother.”

“Well…” said Seokjin, still looking baffled but now also blushing a brilliant pink. “That makes two of us.”

Which was exactly the right thing to say. Taehyung finally dropped Seokjin’s hands in favor of trapping him in a crushing hug. Seokjin awkwardly patted his back in return.

“Come on, Tae,” said Jimin tugging on the back of Taehyung’s coat. “They’re serving the carbonara.”

Taehyung gasped. “Carbonara!”

The two bounded off just as quickly as they had arrived, leaving Seokjin looking a little stunned.

“So…” said Namjoon as he gestured after them. “That’s my brother and Jimin. You’ll get used to them...?”

“Really?” asked Seokjin skeptically.

“No,” replied Namjoon with a sigh. “You’ll never really get used to them.”

Seokjin laughed. “Well, thank you for your honesty.” His eyes trailed over to Jimin and Taehyung--the latter looked like he might be throwing around his weight as a Prince in order to get a second serving of pasta. “I like them.”

And it wasn’t until that moment that Namjoon realized how much that meant to him. It dissolved a weight that he hadn’t even realized he had been carrying.

“I’m a little scared to introduce them to Kookie,” continued Seokjin. “But...I think they’d get along.”

“Kookie?”

“Ah, Jungkook. My cousin.”

“Oh,” said Namjoon because he had heard of Jeon Jungkook. The reputation of the famous golden boy reaching even his ears. Athletic, smart, talented at everything from archery to painting. Considered good looking and charismatic and--

Shy.

Painfully shy. And not at all what Namjoon had been expecting. The kid could barely meet Namjoon’s eyes without looking like a scared rabbit ready to make a run for it.

“Aish,” said Seokjin as he playfully ruffled his cousin’s hair. “Don’t mind, JK. He saw you speak at Gyeonggi University once and wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

Namjoon didn’t think it was possible, but Jungkook seemed to blush even more. “You studied at the University?”

“Just for a semester,” mumbled Jungkook. “I’m hoping to transfer. I...um...paint….”

“Oh?” asked Namjoon, genuinely interested. “What’s your focus?”

“Oil painting. Mostly.” Jungkook seemed to be trying to disappear into his coat as his head turtled into his shoulders. His hands raising to touch his ears. “I like painting landscapes...and dogs…”

Namjoon smiled. “Truly worthy subjects.”

Jungkook ducked his head and smiled.

“If you do transfer,” continued Namjoon. “I hope that I’ll see more of you. You are always welcome here.”

Jungkook mumbled his thanks before he bowed a perfect and very formal ninety degrees--and then walked away. Namjoon watched him go a little perplexed before he turned back to Seokjin.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Seokjin laughed. “On the contrary, you’ll never be rid of him now.”

“He seems like a sweet kid.”

“He's a total menace once you get to know him,” replied Seokjin but his tone was nothing but fond. “He’s been a little lost lately. Now he wants to be a painter, but he’s dabbled in sword fighting and dancing. He fancied himself a scholar after hearing you speak, but that didn’t stick for long either.”

“He’s young. He has time to figure it out,” replied Namjoon. “And from what I hear he could probably become all of those things.”

“Honestly, I know that I am biased, but...he really could,” said Seokjin with a shake of his head. “He never fails to amaze me.”

“It must run in the family,” replied Namjoon before he could think better of it.

He decided it was worth it as he watched Seokjin--perfect, elegant, composed--Seokjin sputter.

“I--I...um--” said Seokjin as he gestured towards the hall. “I have someone else you need to meet.”

Namjoon smiled. “Of course.”

He knew he must still be smiling even after Seokjin left his side. Especially when Hoseok approached him looking way too amused.

“You two seem to be getting along,” mused Hoseok as he handed Namjoon a fresh wine glass.

“I…” Namjoon didn’t even know what to say. He had known his husband for only about three hours and everything he had witnessed had left him speechless. Namjoon took a quick sip of the wine as he tried to gather his thoughts. Really...when it came down to it...it was simple.

“He’s amazing, Hobi.”

Hoseok laughed in that delighted, light-hearted way of his. “Careful, Namjoon. It sounds like you have a crush on your husband.”

Namjoon knew he was blushing but he made little effort to hide it.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he mumbled into his glass.

And Namjoon braced himself for the teasing that was sure to follow. And Hoseok opened his mouth probably to do just that--except he abruptly shut it. His eyes went wide as he quickly turned around and tried to hide. Behind Namjoon.

“Shit,” breathed Hoseok. “What is he doing here?”

Namjoon cocked a single eyebrow. “Are you seriously hiding from someone?”

“Look…” said Hoseok with a sigh. “It’s complicated.”

And that caused Namjoon to straighten his spine. His eyes automatically scanned the room for whoever dared make his friend uncomfortable and--Hoseok swatted at his arm.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“I don’t need you to go all--” Hoseok made vague hand gestures that encompassed Namjoon’s whole being. “Royal on me.”

“What does that even--”

“It’s all just...a simple misunderstanding,” said Hoseok. He was still making vague hand gestures but Namjoon didn’t know what they meant this time. “No need to worry.”

Which was even more suspicious.

“Hobi, what--”

“Namjoon-ah,” called Seokjin and Namjoon could feel all of his attention shift. “I wanted you to meet--”

Seokjin didn’t get to finish. Not before the man walking with him suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Hoya?”

Which was a name that Namjoon knew. It was also a name that no one here should know.

Hoseok gave a nervous wave in return. “Hey, Suga.”

Seokjin seemed to choke on air. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Um...we met at a bar,” said the man with an embarrassed half shrug before he turned his attention back to Hoseok who he gave a quick appraising look over. “I thought you were a dancer.”

Namjoon really did choke on his wine. “What kind of a bar did you two meet in?”

“Ignore him,” said Hoseok.

“I’m literally your Prince,” said Namjoon but it was a lost cause.

“I’ll ignore your Prince if you ignore mine.” As if to prove a point, Seokjin’s affronted squawk was ignored in favor of holding out a hand. “I’m Yoongi.”

Hoseok shook it. “My name’s Hoseok. And I’m a lot of things.”

“Duly noted,” murmured Yoongi. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Sure,” said Hoseok with a grin. “Whiskey still your drink?”

Yoongi snorted. “Water still yours?”

“Do I even want to know?” asked Namjoon as he watched them walk away.

“Probably not,” replied Seokjin. “That was Min Yoongi, by the way.”

“Ah,” said Namjoon.

The Min family’s reputation always preceded it and Min Yoongi was a stand out even within his famous family. Rumor had it that despite his small stature and unassuming nature, he was a military genius. ‘Intimidating’ was how he was usually described.

“That was Jung Hoseok.”

“Ah,” said Seokjin, acknowledging Hoseok’s own reputation. “It really isn’t good that they met, is it?”

Namjoon shook his head. “They know too many secrets.”

Seokjin sighed, resigned. “Well…as long as they use their power for good.”

“We can only hope,” replied Namjoon with a smile.

---

They somehow survived the reception.

Jimin had waggled his eyebrows when he caught Namjoon and Seokjin slipping out of the reception together. Which—was mortifying and also pointless.

Namjoon wasn’t expecting anything to happen on their wedding night. Their union was strictly political. Made only to strengthen their nation. Love and lust and even basic compatibility were never taken into account.

They had even been given separate bedrooms. Connected by a door that could lock on either side. Namjoon had opened his side and was surprised to find Seokjin’s door already open.

Namjoon knocked before he pushed the partially opened door. He was nervous. Beyond nervous. Even his knock sounded nervous. Timid and halting and—

“Hyung?”

Namjoon stopped in his tracks because Seokjin was standing in front of an open window fully dressed in commoner clothes. The panic hit Namjoon suddenly and deeply. His mind racing trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong. What had he said? What had he done? Why? Why was Seokjin running away?

“Are you--” Namjoon tried to swallow his fear. “Are you running away?”

It turned out his fear was for naught. Not when Seokjin broke out into a wide grin and asked, “Want to come with me?”

It was Seokjin who took Namjoon’s hand this time as they jumped out of the window.

Seokjin with the moon shining down upon him. Seokjin who smiled with stars in his eyes.

Seokjin who had gotten much better at sneaking out of the castle.

“You’ve gotten better at sneaking out of castles,” blurted out Namjoon as soon as they were out of the castle walls.

“Thanks!” replied Seokjin with a cheeky grin. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

And before Namjoon could ask what that was about--

Seokjin clapped, clearly delighted, as they reached the main road leading into town. “It’s a celebration in our honor! Come on, Namjoon-ah, it would be rude not to show up!”

And Namjoon was helpless to do anything but agree.

The streets of the capital were alive and bustling. Overflowing with people, with food, with drinks. Colorful lanterns were strung throughout the streets. Casting everything and everyone in a warm glow.

They were surrounded by people who would never really know Namjoon, would never really know Seokjin. Their wedding was merely an excuse to be a little bit happier, to live a little bit freer. Their excitement was infectious. Their joy was more genuine than any of the stiff formalities of Lords and Ladies.

And Namjoon couldn’t remember the last time he had been outside like this. Without an entourage, without guards, without his brother or Jimin or Hoseok by his side. Without an obligation to his family, his nation, himself. When Namjoon really thought about it...the answer was never. He had never been outside like this.

And Seokjin...

This Seokjin talked to strangers and asked to pet their dogs. This Seokjin complained loudly about losing a game and celebrated just as loudly when he finally won--only to give away his prize to a tiny kid who looked at him with big puppy dog eyes. This Seokjin stopped to listen to traveling musicians and danced along in the middle of the street--inelegantly, but...free.

At their wedding, Seokjin had been perfect. Perfect in every sense of the word. And that perfection had been incredibly intimidating.

This Seokjin…

This Seokjin bought skewers from a street vendor. He ate them enthusiastically and with little decorum. Letting out a pleased hum as he chewed. Namjoon found it adorable. He was quickly finding most things Seokjin did adorable.

Maybe that was why Namjoon reached out and wiped the sauce from his cheek. Seokjin had frozen under his touch. Eyes wide as he watched Namjoon lick his own thumb.

Seokjin ducked his head, but not before Namjoon caught the faint blush on his cheeks. Seokjin wiped at his face with the back of his hand. And Namjoon was surprised that Seokjin seemed almost… self-conscious.

Or maybe he had imagined it.

By the time Seokjin lifted his head he seemed like himself. Even more so when he grinned widely and ran off to buy beer and sweets. He shared both with Namjoon as they walked through a street full of vendors.

Seokjin marveled at all of the wears on display. He dragged Namjoon from table to table. Inspecting kitchen knives and cheap jewelry and bolts of cloth and figurines spun from glass. He flirted shamelessly with an old woman selling flowers who told him he was handsome enough to be a prince.

Seokjin bought a flower crown from her. It was made up of tiny purple and blue flowers. He immediately put it on Namjoon’s head.

“My prince,” he said with a smile in his eyes.

This Seokjin laughed with his whole being. The sound was deeper and richer than when they had been kids, but it was still that same squeak that Namjoon had found so endearing.

They stopped by the river just as the fireworks started. The brilliant bursts of color, of light, of sound, filled the night sky. It was a display so grand that it would probably only be seen once in a lifetime.

And Namjoon couldn’t stop looking at Seokjin.

At the way his lips curled upward into a smile. At the way his eyes widened in delight. At the way he seemed so full of wonder and curiosity and beauty.

And this Seokjin…

Namjoon might love him.

---

It was late as they made their way back towards the castle. By unsaid agreement, they seemed to be taking the long way around. Either that or Seokjin was lost and not saying anything. Which was fine by Namjoon. If Seokjin wanted to remain a little lost a little longer, Namjoon would have no objections.

Seokjin was in the middle of talking about their wedding cake when he abruptly stopped and sighed.

“What is it?” asked Namjoon as he looked around the street for whatever it was that had offended him. “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t…” started Seokjin. He trailed off and shook his head. “Thank you. For tonight, I mean, but...you don’t have to humor me.”

Namjoon frowned. “I’m not humoring you, hyung.”

“Oh,” said Seokjin as he looked away. “Is it pity then?”

“What?” Namjoon stopped walking at that. Seokjin still wouldn’t look at him so Namjoon reached up and gently lifted his chin with the tips of his fingers. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

Seokjin seemed to crumple in on himself and Namjoon wanted nothing more than to wrap his arm around him and tell him it was going to be okay. But he also wasn’t sure if that was overstepping. So he waited. He waited even though it killed him.

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be happy,” said Seokjin quietly. “Happiness is...a broad concept, but for me...I’ve always been happiest when I’ve been free. Perhaps because my time and my responsibilities leave me with so little freedom. It is a ridiculous complaint considering that I grew up a Lord's son.”

“No. I understand,” replied Namjoon. “We do not belong to ourselves. We belong to everyone else but ourselves.”

Seokjin nodded. “Yes, yes, exactly.”

“So...was that what tonight was about? One last taste of freedom before you were chained to me forever?”

Namjoon tried to make it sound like a joke--but his voice was too flat even to his own ears.

Except...Seokjin still smiled.

“I was scared--but only because I was afraid that you wouldn’t like me.”

Which...Namjoon couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“That…” Namjoon frowned. “That can’t be right.”

“You have no idea how intimidating you are, do you?” asked Seokjin, sounding exasperated. “Graduated from the best University in the Nine Kingdoms. Early. Voluntarily enrolled for a postgraduate degree--while simultaneously revamping the enrollment program to include anyone from any class and regardless of financial situation. Raised Seoul to be the pinnacle of art and culture--”

“I’m pretty sure that was Taehyung’s face,” muttered Namjoon but Seokjin wasn’t deterred.

“Delivered a speech at a meeting of the Nine Kingdom’s that prevented war between North and South Jeolla--”

“That really was mostly Hobi.”

“And you look like--this.” Seokjin gestured to include Namjoon’s whole person. Namjoon looked down at himself to check if he had somehow magically transformed into a better looking, more charming person. “And you stand like--this. And you walk! Oh, how you walk. People would literally kill to be married to you. The number of assassination attempts I had to endure--”

“Wait. What?”

“And I’m just...an uncommonly good looking person who happened to be born to a high class family.”

Seokjin sighed and Namjoon hated how it sounded almost defeated. Seokjin ran a hand through his hair. Namjoon tried not to notice how every strand fell perfectly back into place. He failed.

“But…” continued Seokjin as he nervously spun the ring on his finger. “But...I had held out hope. It’s silly really, but I always believed that we could have become friends. If we had seen each other more than that one day.”

Seokjin’s smile was small but fond.

“You gave me freedom that day. No questions asked. So...so...I had hoped we could be friends and if we could be friends then maybe we could learn to love one another. Aish. It’s an embarrassing dream to have for an arranged marriage--”

Namjoon reached out and took Seokjin’s hands into his own. “It’s not embarrassing. It’s not...because I had hoped for the same thing.”

And Namjoon was terrified to admit the next part, but Seokjin had been so brave. He deserved Namjoon’s bravery as well.

“That day--when we were kids, when we jumped out of that window and ran through the gardens--that day was the happiest day of my life.”

Seokjin finally looked up at him. “Was?”

“Well,” said Namjoon as he reached up and brushed Seokjin’s cheek--softly, so softly--with the back of his fingers. “This day is quickly becoming my favorite.”

And Seokjin closed his eyes as he leaned into the touch.

“Mine too.”

“Can I…can I kiss you, hyung?”

Seokjin’s eyes fluttered open and he gave a shy nod.

“Oh,” breathed Namjoon. “Oh.”

Namjoon’s heartbeat was suddenly loud in his ears. He swallowed before closing the distance between them.

This kiss was nothing like the one at their wedding.

This time all Namjoon could think about was Seokjin. The feel of his soft lips. The faint taste of sweets and beer on his tongue. The way his hand settled on Namjoon’s chest. Right above his racing heart. Clutching the fabric of his shirt as if to pin him in place.

And Namjoon…held on to Seokjin just as tightly. Threading his fingers through his hair. Placing a hand on his hip. Wanting to be closer and closer and closer—

Seokjin broke the kiss. His breathing not completely steady as he pressed his forehead against Namjoon’s.

“Damn,” whispered Seokjin.

And Namjoon barked out a surprised laugh. He stole another quick kiss before stepping back just far enough in order to offer his hand.

“Come on, hyung. Let’s go home.”

And Seokjin smiled as he laced their fingers together.