Chapter Text
“Can’t believe our Jack-Jack got a prince after him!” is the first thing Jackson hears the next morning when he materializes aboard the Eclipse.
The rest of the night had gone by in a blur. He vaguely recollects eating almost everything on his plate under Jinyoung’s surprisingly attentive eyes and his poor captain hashing out the details of the sudden trip and confirming the time and place of today’s more official talks. The rest of the boys hadn’t ambushed him at the immensely grandiose hotel they stayed at last night, but that was only because of their collective wariness of any secret surveillance.
Their ship, however, is an entirely different story and Jackson’s kind of (completely) the reason why they’re having this early “emergency meeting”, so he does unfortunately get why the bridge crew’s core members are being bigger menaces than usual.
Mark swoons an impressively high “Prince Jinyoung!” with a wide shit-eating grin, and Yugyeom and Bambam do their level best to reenact the way Jackson had been staring at Jinyoung while the prince picked out food for him last night (Yugyeom putting on his best mockery of Jackson’s “flirty” voice even though Jackson maintains that he was not flirting - at least, not intentionally - and Bambam standing as regally as he can, a superior expression on his face), all to the accompaniment of Youngjae’s characteristic laughter.
Save for a scowl at all the stupidly happy jerks, Jackson ignores the loud cacophony of snickers and wolf whistles with faux-magnanimity, pushing past a smirking Bambam to give Jaebeom his very best puppy-dog eyes.
When Jaebeom immediately tries to turn away, Jackson grabs his shoulders to keep him still and throws in a “wait, look, look at me - I’m sorry, hyung” in as penitent a tone as he can manage.
To his relief, Jaebeom lasts all of maybe forty-five seconds before their leader’s resolve to stay mad appears to just wilt out of him. The peanut gallery boos, perhaps hoping for Jaebeom to make Jackson grovel for forgiveness. He makes a face at them, but that only makes them heckle more loudly until Jaebeom shoots them all The Captain Look and the noise level drops to mere grumbling (but not to silence, which they just might be allergic to).
“Jackson-ah…” Their captain finally sighs, always long-suffering. Jackson, who can hear the thaw of forgiveness in it, immediately dives in for a tight hug. “It’s fine. We should be able to handle a short trip to Mlyl, but can you at least try not to seduce any more world leaders into an impromptu vacation?”
Jackson stifles his involuntary burst of embarrassed laughter into Jaebeom’s broad shoulder, nuzzling his sheepish smile into the soft yellow fabric of the other man’s shirt. Jaebeom lets him cling for just a brief moment before gently pulling away.
Ah, their captain. Maybe one glorious day he’ll let Jackson cuddle him to his heart’s content.
“Thanks to Seun-ah, we’re going to have a being of importance on the ship. We all know our duties,” he pauses here to stare at the maknaes and then at Jackson, which feels a bit unfair, but okay, “so please start on them. We’ll reconvene at 9:30 to make our way to the castle together.”
Jaebeom pauses, and a grin creeps onto his face. Jackson, on the other hand, feels an instinctive urge to flee suddenly crawl down his spine.
“And since this was your doing, you can do all the final checks before Prince Jinyoung comes on board at the end of the week.”
The resigned disgruntlement that must be written all over Jackson’s slight pout is easily overshadowed by the cackling of his so-called friends as they disperse to their different tasks for the morning.
For all their fears, the official talks are remarkably straightforward - as much as they ever are, at least.
Jaebeom gives his academy-approved speech, fielding the questions from his rather enthusiastic audience with his characteristic captainly aplomb. From what Jackson can tell, the Vediwans seem genuinely eager to join the Federation, and he gets the feeling that this is a topic they have thoroughly discussed amongst themselves already because there is a distinct lack of dissent during the three and a half days of discussion.
He watches and listens to the proceedings with his stylus ready. While the holopad’s text-to-speech function generally makes for an excellent scribe, the device uses the same tech as the Universal Translator, which means that Jackson always writes his own notes to take to Jaebeom later. Besides, it’s a convenient way to scribble down any observations on the hosts’ reactions - save for Jinyoung’s, since the prince either seems to be looking at him whenever he tries to surreptitiously glance over or manages to immediately find his eyes right after.
Jackson very determinedly drags his gaze back to his holopad or the speaker each time it happens, and yet Jinyoung’s small but seemingly genuine smile whenever their eyes meet lingers in front of him like a particularly stubborn afterimage.
Fresh air, in his opinion, always feels better after being cooped up inside for a while, and this trip to the park after all those very important but rather long talks is no different.
(At least the meals were great - both the food and the very handsome company in the form of a certain pri-)
“Lieutenant.”
“Oh my G-Prince Jinyoung.” Jackson does not jump when Jinyoung suddenly appears at his elbow, but it is a near thing. From the smirk that curves those pretty lips, Jackson is almost certain that the prince is well aware of the jumpscare he just so kindly provided.
“Do you mind if I accompany you?” The sound of rapid and sudden scuffling comes from behind them. Jackson shoves a big mental middle finger at the crew’s two maknaes (why did Jaebeom put them in his and Jinyoung’s group? Is this also a part of his captain’s revenge?) and aims his most charming smile at the Vediwan royal.
“Of course not,” he promises, stressing the second word for emphasis, “it’s an honor. Really, it’s a huge honor.”
Jinyoung’s mischievous grin softens into something more gentle. Jackson finds himself staring again, especially distracted by the way the light from this galaxy’s sun reflects off of the jewelry twined delicately around the prince’s four horns.
“Oh my God, look at that,” Bambam says, loudly enough that Jackson instinctively turns to check on him and finds the Thai native, Yugyeom, and a representative from another Vediwan land all peering curiously at what appears to be a pale pink bush of some sort.
Jackson drifts closer to squint through its beautiful dense foliage and reflexively grabs the nearest individual’s arm with a wordless exclamation of shock when the thin leaves and branches suddenly rustle, parting to reveal four small beady eyes over a straight beak and long, almost disproportionately thick legs.
“That was a hoppingbird,” Jinyoung says after the creature ducks back out of sight, obvious notes of laughter in his tone, “and they are harmless. Common prey animals.”
Now that the possible threat is gone, however, Jackson is more concerned about how close that amused voice is. He wets his bottom lip out of habit before peeking up and (belatedly) notices that he’s managed to press himself up against Jinyoung’s arm.
Oh, fuck! It takes a moment for his brain to process that he’s quite literally cozying up to the prince of this region, in front of witnesses no less (though the other Vediwan leader seems to have kindly looked away), and then he’s practically flinging himself backwards, eyes wide and mouth half-open.
“Oh my God, sorry, I-” Jackson reaches over and starts carefully smoothing down the soft fabric of the prince’s fancy robes, breaking into a fit of mortified giggles before he manages to continue, “sh-sorry, my bad, Jin-Prince Jinyoung.”
When he looks up, those slitted pupils are staring down at where his hand is still on the prince’s arm. Jackson doesn’t quite know what to make of the Vediwan royal’s seemingly inscrutable gaze and makes to retreat - only to raise both his eyebrows when Jinyoung places a hand over his and pushes Jackson’s back down onto his sleeve.
It’s Jackson’s turn to stare at a hand, specifically at the way Jinyoung’s completely covers his. Behind the prince, Yugyeom and Bambam are grinning in delighted disbelief as they clutch at each other in barely restrained laughter, walking backwards with bitten lips and laser focus just to watch Jackson’s brain short-circuit.
(He absentmindedly makes a mental note to yell at them later. Right now, he’s too busy locking eyes with an actual prince.
God, is this how it was for Mark? He’ll never tease him about Telem again.)
“My clothes are not completely straightened out yet” is what Jinyoung offers by way of explanation. His tone is impressively sincere, but his handsome features slowly light up with mirth in the face of Jackson’s incredulous smile until they’re both laughing.
Once the giggles have died down, Jinyoung gestures for Jackson to continue walking, and they meander after the others in their little group. As pretty and novel as the park is, however, Jackson finds himself watching his companion more often than not as the prince points out flora and fauna alike.
"Are your fellow crew members aware that they're flustering the poor Lady Wenlan?"
Appalled at the mere thought, Jackson pivots sharply away from the huge yellow flower-like organism they had been looking at - which is apparently not a plant at all, but an animal camouflaging itself as one - to attempt his best approximation of Jaebeom’s Captainly Yell #7, the one that isn't overly loud and yet is somehow both forceful and dignified.
He stops short because the maknaes aren't exactly doing anything yell-worthy. From what he can tell, they're really just conversing in an admirably natural manner with the other Vediwan leader.
“Oh, I doubt that they are doing anything on purpose,” Jinyoung elaborates upon noticing Jackson’s questioning face, “they are just attractive guests, and she is not immune to that.”
Some part of Jackson is, strangely enough, actually kind of proud of them. He’s a bit distracted by how much he wants to be complimented too, however, especially by the prince in front of him, but - very professionally, Jaebeom should be proud of him - bites down on his whine of “what about me?”
Instead, he grins at Jinyoung. “Oooh, I see - okay, okay, but do you think they look good? Be honest. I won’t tell. Really. I promise.”
So maybe Jackson stretches his arms above his head in a move that he knows makes the lines of his body look really nice in the Starfleet uniform - according to Bambam and also his own bathroom mirror - but Jinyoung seems to be staring at his chest when he peeks over at the prince, so it’s fine.
(More than fine, even.)
“Your crew members have their own appeal,” Jinyoung says after a harrowing moment of consideration (and possibly distraction) in which Jackson had briefly wondered if he had maybe overstepped, “but since honesty has been requested of me, I solemnly admit that my preferences do lay elsewhere.”
Jackson instinctively opens his mouth to ask what he means. The prince chooses to look him right in the eye, and Jackson’s mouth snaps shut again, breath catching in his throat when he catches the intent in that gaze that wasn’t present just a few scant moments prior.
He finds his own line of sight dropping rather involuntarily to the prince’s mouth for what feels like a millisecond - and yet Jinyoung must still catch the miniscule glance, because those beautiful lips slowly lift into a terrifyingly attractive smirk. The only thing Jinyoung does when Jackson inches into his space is tilt downwards a little, his stare only getting somehow more intense when Jackson licks his own lips reflexively, a tension starting to electrify the air around them as they assess each other.
Feeling emboldened, he scoots even closer, heart almost in his throat. And then, just as Jackson lifts himself upward, shifting his weight onto his toes to do something -
“Jackson-hyu-! Lieutenant Wang Jackson-ssi!”
They mutually startle away from each other, swiveling towards Yugyeom immediately.
The maknae’s shit-eating grin is big enough to be visible despite the distance, but it’s audible in his voice anyways. “Just wanted to let you know that we can see a few other groups already! And also, you should really hurry up - I think we’re near the lake.”
“Okay, we’ll be there!” Jackson yells back before he mutters a bitter “I’m going to feed him to the nearest schlagfin” to Jinyoung, quietly fascinated by the way the prince’s ears have turned a rather fetching shade of magenta.
He does feel a little gratified when the empty threat makes the prince smile despite his obvious embarrassment (and okay, fine, he does get why Jaebeom assigned the kids to him now - or, more accurately, assigned him to the kids).
“Would your captain find it a grave offense if I were to engage in a little good-natured vitriol with your crew?”
Jackson has the fleeting and inane thought of “you can engage me any time, baby”, but his brain-to-mouth filter thankfully decides to remain intact this time around and he gives a full-body scoff instead. “I think he would thank you. But I’m warning you, my crew will talk back if it looks like you’ll let them.”
Jinyoung hums thoughtfully, the deep noise sending a pleasant shiver down Jackson’s spine.
“I hope so, actually.”
By the time they reach what appears to be a summoning circle made from fancy picnic tables, the sun is already high in the sky.
Jinyoung leads them over to the one closest to an absolutely stunning lake, its calm light purple surface shimmering in the sunlight. Jackson doesn’t try to hide his amazement and the prince laughs, unfortunately covering the sight with his hand again.
His attention is drawn to the lake again when a few creatures ripple through it, their golden-yellow serpentine lengths weaving in and out of the surrounding water. Several small iridescent manta-ray-esque animals chase after them, hopping into the cool air and gliding on the wind until they descend into the water again, making odd chirps and clicks as they do.
“Ribbonbank snakes and skimskippers,” Jinyoung says almost absently, turning away to peer critically at the elegant two-tiered platter being shown to him by a server. “Time has been set aside for fishing after lunch, if that is something you would enjoy.”
“Wow, really? Our captain likes fishing, but I’ve never tried it. I did used to talk to some uncles waiting for fish at the Huangpu River back when I was a kid though. Those guys could get so loud, but they were, like. The most friendly people I’ve ever met.”
“That actually sounds very pleasant. Perhaps we could enjoy the experience together one day.” Jinyoung seems genuinely wistful, even as he finds what he’s looking for and puts a few of the burger-like offerings on one of the delicate plates nearby before passing it to Jackson. “These are fillbuns. We eat them for lunch often in Onag, and you can find many stalls in the markets, each with their own extensive selection of recipes.”
His smile widens a little, eyes glittering almost as much as his jewelry. “I think you’ll find these specific ones to your liking.”
Even if Jackson hated them, even if they happened to be uncomfortably spicy, he would act well enough to revive whatever group handed out those historical Oscar trophies and receive one from them in order to keep that hopeful look in the prince’s eyes from turning to disappointment.
(Also, as much as he would love to take Jinyoung to Earth and show him all his favorite sights, Jackson can almost feel his captain’s laser glare burning through his back, so he decides to leave that idea well alone - at least for now.)
As it turns out, however, he doesn’t need to do any acting - Jackson freezes, eyes going wide in delighted surprise at the first mouthful of crispy yet fluffy bun, mildly sweet and pleasantly crunchy vegetable leaves which contrast the tender melt-in-your-mouth meat, and the sweet-savory sauce that ties it all together, and he tries to convey his excited joy through both his expression and his enthusiastic noises of approval.
“Oh my G-It’s sooo good, it’s like -” He makes hand gestures that hopefully express awe (and not something terrible), struggling for a moment to find a fitting word and snapping his fingers when he thinks of one from a lesser known Tuo dialect. “It’s actually tiankaph. Chef’s kiss. So amazingly good, but how - how did you know I would like this?”
“You seemed to enjoy certain dishes more than others during our meals together over the past few days,” Jinyoung says, voice even despite how his ears are starting to color again.
“He specifically requested those from our chefs,” one of Jinyoung’s two fathers reveals with a wide grin, “went into the kitchens to discuss options and try samples until he was satisfied too. I have never seen him take so much interest in the culinary arts before.”
“My honorable patriarch, I think that falls under information that the lieutenant did not need to know,” the prince hisses, beautiful eyes narrowing in ruffled betrayal even as his lips draw into what can only be called a royal pout. The king simply winks at Jackson from over his own half-eaten Onag burger, and Jackson shoots him a disbelieving smile back, trying his best not to melt or squeal from Jinyoung’s frankly adorable expression.
“Well, you were completely right,” he says to Jinyoung, partially to stop the royal from glaring sulkily at his own father and partially to distract himself from the warmth in his chest at the thought of the prince’s thoughtful efforts.
It also gives him an idea for when the prince boards their ship. Before he can think on it further, he’s blurting out a “can I try a little bit of yours too, though? I want to know what you like.”
He seems to have taken Jinyoung off guard with the request, but the royal acquiesces easily, cutting a chunk out of one of his own fillbuns and carefully wrapping an unused fancy napkin around the left third of the piece.
Some of that earlier mischief returns to the prince’s gaze and he bypasses Jackson’s outstretched hand to place the morsel directly in front of his lips instead.
Jackson stares down at it and then stares up at Jinyoung, bewildered. Jinyoung raises a perfect eyebrow at him, as if to say “well? Get on with it.”
With a brief glance to Jinyoung’s father (who smiles at him unhelpfully), Jackson does just that, leaning forward to fit his mouth around the fillbun and jerking his head back quickly when he moves away, hand coming up to help him avoid choking on the big bite and to catch any potential crumbs.
There’s a very quiet but obviously aghast mutter of “oh my God, what...what the f-” from Bambam. Yugyeom is definitely trying not to laugh, but he quickly chides his best friend anyways, nudging the engineer’s shoulder to remind him that they are, in fact, in front of royalty and should probably watch their words.
“How disappointing it must be for a traveler to have come so far and yet experienced so few things that such a sight shakes you,” Jinyoung sniffs in a remarkably less polite and distant tone than he had been using in front of others so far. Bambam immediately raises his eyebrows, lips slowly curving into a shocked but delighted grin. The rest of the bridge crew mouths “oooh” either silently or very quietly, to the confusion of their Vediwan counterparts.
“My darling youngling, that was a little harsh,” the nearest king scolds gently, handsome features (it’s easy to see who Jinyoung takes after the most) drawing into a frown.
Jackson hastens to explain, “wait, Your Esteemed Majesty, please, it’s okay - it’s okay, we talked about this earlier. I told Prince Jinyoung that Captain Jaebeom wouldn’t mind if your honored son teased anyone in the crew.”
Jaebeom, in the midst of devouring his fifth burger, immediately looks up at the sound of his title. “Hm? Oh, yes, go ahead please. Actually, it might be kind of refreshing to watch someone outside the crew banter with my subordinates.”
Jinyoung inclines his head just slightly in acknowledgement, shiny jewelry swaying from the two pairs of horns gently.
“I see,” the king says, expression smoothing into geniality once more, “in that case, do carry on. But I warn you, my little one can have quite the sharp tongue.”
“I have made some biting remarks before,” Jinyoung agrees, “but I have also given our guests permission to reciprocate in kind.”
Jackson hastily picks up one of his remaining fillbuns to hide his involuntary grin at the look of subtle horror that crosses Jaebeom’s face at that.
They spend most of lunch like that, enjoying the food (Jackson gets a few more bites of Jinyoung’s lunch and offers the prince some of his own, almost squealing again when the prince grabs his wrist to hold the small fillbun pieces steady) and somewhat carefully testing out a more casual atmosphere.
Jackson can tell from his captain’s eyes that Jaebeom is genuinely thrilled to be fishing, even if the equipment isn’t quite the same as the pole he would have used back on Earth. He’s glad to see those broad shoulders relax slightly and watches contently as Mark and Youngjae flank him.
That said, he has no idea what to do.
The fishing tool does somewhat resemble a fishing pole. Jackson, who has never fished before, decides to investigate the weird net-like attachment at the end of the thin long stick first and turns it around in his hands a few times.
“Earth uses something different?” When he looks up, Jinyoung is next to him with his own fishing equipment. Somehow, Jackson is unsurprised to find him standing there, that damned gorgeous smile on his handsome face.
“We do. But I’ve never used one before,” Jackson shifts his gaze to the interface near where the reel would be on a typical Earth fishing pole, experimentally tapping one of the pristine buttons and making a small “ah!” of surprise when it makes the line extend.
“Yes, you said as much earlier - please let me help you,” Jinyoung seems like he’s trying not to laugh again, setting aside his own tool carefully.
“Okay, how - whoa.” Jackson’s eyes go wide. He looks behind and up, reflexively smiling a little wider in surprise when he realizes that the prince has settled right behind him. Jinyoung smiles back, the remnants of his almost-laughter in it.
“Turn forward, lieutenant. Look down at our hands.”
Jackson’s mind immediately goes places it probably (definitely) should not even as he obediently turns around and then stutters to a halt. “Our?”
He almost stops breathing completely when Jinyoung steps even closer, chest pressed to Jackson’s back. “I am going to show you how to set the bait, how to activate the lines and the attachments, and how to reel in a potential animal.”
Honestly, Jackson is kind of glad he’s supposed to be observing their hands, because he doesn’t think he can take his eyes off of how big and beautiful Jinyoung’s are. The prince’s grip is gentle and warm as he goes through the different parts of the device, tilting it this way and that to show what they do and to simulate the process of making a catch, but Jackson is a bit (overwhelmingly) distracted by the way Jinyoung moves his hands to the correct places with his own.
“Lieutenant. Are you following me, lieutenant?”
He blinks away the daze, line of sight darting to Jinyoung again. “What? Sorry, I - I didn’t get it. Can you say that again?”
“Lieutenant,” Jinyoung sighs, stepping away to Jackson’s immense disappointment, but it’s easy to see that he isn’t truly aggrieved in any way.
“Really sorry, I - can you repeat the- uh- can you repeat what you said?” Jackson’s smile is sheepish. The prince makes a noise of faux-discontent, very much a “what can you do” kind of sound, and then slowly pushes Jackson forward, one large hand pressed against the middle of his back.
For a wild moment, Jackson thinks he’s going to get shoved into the lake.
Before he can really get alarmed about that potential prank, however, Jinyoung stops and in fact gently grabs his elbow to steady him the slightest bit.
“I think this will be easier,” the prince teases, heavy sleeves falling like small curtains around him. Jackson watches dumbly as Jinyoung’s hands go back over his own (which are hopefully not sweaty, oh God) and the Onag royal expertly taps at the tool’s interface to test its functionality. “We can just fish together - if you want to?”
He finally finds his voice at the hint of uncertainty. “Of course, Prince Jinyoung! Come on, you know I wouldn’t catch anything on my own anyways.”
“You might have gotten something eventually,” Jinyoung says diplomatically, but all it takes for him to break is Jackson tilting his head back and squinting at him in disgruntled disbelief.
“Maybe in two months,” Jackson says, squinting at the lake critically. “If something in this lake is not very good at living, yeah.”
There’s an entertained huff from above him. “Tailorfish are not the hardest fish to catch, but...Thankfully, you are not and hopefully have no aspirations of becoming a Vediwan fisherman.”
“Hey,” Jackson whines, shooting the prince an insulted pout, “I mean, right now, I don’t even know what a tailorfish is, fine, but in the future, I bet I could catch like five in one go.”
Jinyoung’s teasing grin falters, turning very faintly gobsmacked. Jackson finds within himself a deep sense of vindication after having to silently suffer through the prince’s cute pout earlier.
To his disappointment, the Vediwan royal recovers rather quickly, clearing his throat purposefully despite the tinge of color still yet to fade from his ears.
“Tailorfish are common in the lakes and rivers of this land,” Jinyoung explains, helping bait a few of the fishing tool’s several hooks (Jackson, refusing to go near the insectoid bait, had only picked out a few inanimate lures). “They use freshwater plants to create ‘clothes’, in a sense.”
“Huh? They make clothes? Why?” Jackson wriggles uncomfortably in the cage of Jinyoung’s arms. For the first time, he kind of wishes he weren’t being basically embraced, because some of the live bait is now swaying way too close to him for comfort. “What do they-oh my G-what do they have to hide?”
The prince laughs. Jackson mourns the lost opportunity to witness the sight without one of those immaculate hands covering those pretty lips but he’s too busy keeping his eyes on the twitching bug creatures to peek over at Jinyoung.
“Themselves. It is mainly for camouflage, though some plants may work as armor too.”
Jackson makes a noise that he hopes sounds like respectful acknowledgement, but he’s pretty sure it comes out as more of a strangled whimper, instinctively burrowing against the Vediwan royal and hunching in on himself when one of the insectoids gives a rather spirited struggle against its plight.
Jinyoung’s hands move his, and there’s a quiet splash. Jackson chances cracking open his eyes just the tiniest bit and sighs in relief when he finds the line and net attachment both underwater.
“Are you alright, lieutenant?” The prince sounds concerned, the hand on his shoulder gently urging Jackson to look at him.
“Sh-thanks, I’m fine, I’m just scared of bugs so…” He trails off, noticing that Jinyoung has ducked down to study him rather intently, throat working when he realizes that this is the closest their faces have been since that one glorious moment earlier. “Uh. So I…”
Wow, you’re even more beautiful up close.
Maybe his wonder shows on his face, because Jinyoung seems embarrassed and yet kind of pleased, judging by his smile.
“Oh my God, I think you broke our lieutenant’s brain,” Bambam says, grinning even as he fast-walks away from a Jaebeom whose shoes appear a bit wetter than they were a few moments ago.
“And I think our captain’s about to break you,” Jackson snipes back, feeling the prince’s broad chest shake in laughter against him. It helps drive the welling disappointment back down - and then he’s yelping in shock when the line almost jerks out of his loose grip.
Jackson doesn’t know how long he spends with Jinyoung’s arms around him - it’s not as if the prince needs to hold him constantly after first teaching him how to hold this world’s equivalent of a fishing pole, but far be it from Jackson to point that out to him.
They do end up catching two tailorfish and even manage to reel in a stocky little dark blue rollyfang together. Jinyoung seems amused by the way Jackson edges in close to coo at the incredibly round goldfish-like creature until it opens its mouth to reveal hilariously big and sharp teeth, outright breaking into laughter when Jackson startles away from the container with a tiny shriek and bumps into his chest yet again.
What ends their fishing session ends up being the weather. Jackson is so caught up in (somewhat giddily) watching Jinyoung’s obvious mirth that he flinches in shock when something wet hits his face.
He whips his head over towards Mark and the younger crew members, an instinctive reaction cultivated through years of being trapped in what is essentially a giant box together (space might be beautiful, but there is only so much boredom a maknae or a fake maknae can take before they start plotting).
Instead, he finds all of them looking around in varying degrees of confusion and mild alarm (after all, if the liquid were harmful, then their suits would be kicking up much more of a ruckus), Mark perhaps sensing his eyes and looking back at him before a grin abruptly overtakes his face. Jackson sends him a suspicious stare even though he’s pretty sure it’s just raining, but then there’s the feeling of a soft but heavy fabric gently thudding against his head and neck and the expression suddenly makes sense.
“Wait, it’s okay, you don’t have to cover me,” Jackson protests, because even the sleeve of the prince’s fancy outer robe probably costs more than he has in his savings account, instinctively raising a hand to push weakly at Jinyoung’s arm.
Jinyoung doesn’t budge. “Let’s run towards the gift shop, lieutenant. On three.”
Jackson almost doesn’t hear the countdown, too engrossed in how the prince looks with wet hair. He still manages to keep pace with Jinyoung as they splash towards their goal, however, laughing when they finally duck under the shop’s awning.
The prince is smiling so hard that his eyes crinkle at the corners. Jackson decides to at least try to pretend that he’s not marveling at the sight, but he’s probably not being very successful, given Youngjae and Yugyeom’s reactions.
Bambam, busy towelling his hair dry from the impromptu sunshower, is concerned with something else. “What the-How are you not wet?”
“Prince Jinyoung was kind enough to sacrifice a sleeve for our lieutenant.” Mark’s words almost sound deadpan, but there’s just enough amusement in his tone to let the bridge crew know that he’s enjoying this.
“Can I get some of that kindness?” Bambam asks, running a hand through his messy hair dismally.
Jinyoung’s smile turns mischievous. Jackson holds his breath, already grinning.
“Sorry,” Jinyoung says, without an ounce of apology in his tone, “I reserve that kindness for the visitors I actually like.”
The crew (even Jaebeom, albeit quietly) bursts into a chorus of “ooooh”s as Bambam offers a “wow, why so savage?” with a wide grin, to the poor clerk’s obvious shock and confusion and the Vediwan representatives’ collective patient bemusement. Jackson, however, only has eyes for Jinyoung’s pleased blush and the way the prince turns to him like they’re alone in the gift shop.
They both startle a little when the queen speaks, sheepishly looking away from each other as she asks everyone to check out the many wares, the royal lady herself picking up what appears to be a piece of pottery with a simple but pretty pattern using one of the flora they saw earlier on it. Perhaps noticing his gaze, one of the kings catches his eye and tilts his head meaningfully but discreetly towards a different section of the shop.
Confused but obliging, Jackson makes his way over to what appears to be an entire wall of beautiful bookmarks, most of them boasting colorful pressed flowers. He kind of gets why the king pointed him over when Jinyoung delicately picks one up to examine it more closely.
“Do you read a lot?”
“Yes, I spend a lot of time in the castle’s library,” Jinyoung confirms, still inspecting the pretty characters written on the side of the bookmark, “and it has many physical texts.”
There is indecision in his movements. Jackson decides to help out and plucks it right from Jinyoung’s grasp, suddenly reminded of why one of the first things they instituted was a currency exchange system. “Okay, let me buy you the bookmark.”
That gets Jinyoung’s attention.
“No, that - that is not necessary, lieutenant,” the prince says, flustered out of his usual disposition.
Jackson peeks at the printed cost, but he only just barely passed the math classes at the academy and for good reason. “That’s not a lot, right? In Federation dollars?”
“A little less than twelve dollars,” Jinyoung concedes, still obviously reluctant. Jackson shrugs - that’s a bit of a ripoff (in his humble opinion) for a piece of admittedly really nice embossed pseudo-cardstock, but it’s not going to set him back too much.
(He kind of wishes he could haggle though - the haggling sessions on Mlyl got intense. Kind of fun, to be honest.)
“Yeah, let me buy it for you.” He grins at the prince’s surprise. “Just think of - you can think of it like a thanks for being a good tour guide and helping me catch so many fish.”
Jinyoung just...looks at him for a mildly concerning length of time. Jackson’s about three seconds away from bolting for the counter when the prince turns to some nearby charms and starts determinedly rooting through them.
“Prince Jinyoung?”
“Did you have a favorite flower, lieutenant?” Jinyoung’s still going through what looks like a carousel of charms, most of them intricate little see-through bags with dried flora in them.
“Probably one of the red flowers, but I don’t remember what they’re called,” Jackson says, nodding when Jinyoung shows him a charm with said flower sealed in it. “What, oh, are you…?”
The prince smiles at him, cheeks a light magenta. “Yes. We can exchange gifts instead.”
Jackson can’t deny that he’s pleased by the thought. It does feel a bit surreal to receive the charm from Jinyoung - and kind of funny, to be honest, given how seriously the royal presents the relatively commonplace little thing to him. He still does the same right back, however, giving Jinyoung his charm with a similar amount of ceremony.
And, well, Jackson has always loved attention, but if he’s getting a bit flummoxed by the sheer number of eyes watching them give each other small little gift shop souvenirs, he keeps it to himself.
It’s starting to edge towards late afternoon when they all finally leave the gift shop.
Jackson’s ready to follow his crewmates back to the hotel and either nap or chat with everyone before the prince’s hand on his arm stops him.
“Captain Jaebeom,” Jinyoung steps forward, ignoring Jackson’s inquiring stare when the royal pulls him to his side, “may I borrow Lieutenant Wang for approximately two more hours?”
“Ah, er-” Jaebeom seems slightly taken aback by the request, but his captain recovers quickly, “it’s fine by me, as long as my lieutenant agrees as well.”
Jackson is admittedly a little tired and may have been looking forward to some rest (unless he got too wired from talking to people), but he’s not about to pass on an opportunity to spend more time with Jinyoung.
“It’s fine, captain, I want to go-uh,” Jackson pauses for a moment, “uh, to go wherever we’re going.”
Apparently, the answer to that implied question is straight back to the castle.
Jackson can’t help looking around as Jinyoung leads him through elegantly decorated hallways and ornate doors, smiling and ducking his head a little whenever he happens to make eye contact with someone.
The Onag prince finally stops in front of a set of massive double doors, pushing one of them open and gesturing for Jackson to step in with a graceful movement of his head.
When he does, the first thing he notices is the emptiness of the room. It’s spacious, and while what decor does exist looks as expensive as everything else has seemed, it is surprisingly open.
“There will be a ball the day after tomorrow,” Jinyoung rather casually sheds his heavy outer robes, draping them over the lone armchair in the corner. Jackson honestly can’t tell whether he’s more relieved or disappointed at the sight of a thinner set underneath and does his best to pretend he wasn’t staring intently at the prince’s outline when the Vediwan royal turns to him.
“I asked you to come because I want to teach you a few steps first.”
He nods and then does a double-take after actually processing the words. “Wait, does that mean you dance?”
“All of Onag’s citizens learn a few dances,” Jinyoung demurs, “but as a prince, I have been taught more than most.”
“That’s awesome,” Jackson marvels, grinning when Jinyoung seems to get a little shy at the praise. “So, dancing, is it a big thing here then?”
“Yes, it is - dances convey several messages and are a big part of some of our customs, including the celebration of a new partnership.”
Jackson tries not to let his surprise show on his face. Even if the meetings have been going very well and steps were taken for future interactions already, that seems like a bit of a spoiler.
“In fact, my honorable parents and our esteemed guests have already made plans to lend out some traditional ballroom outfits,” Jinyoung continues smoothly, and Jackson relaxes at the out he’s been given. No need to react to the big news, then.
“Really? Do we get to pick? Bam - Ensign Bambam would love that.”
“Yes, your engineer and the rest of your crew can decide which outfits they would prefer to wear for the event. But I,” the prince pauses for a moment, shifting slightly, and then straightens completely before continuing, “I would like to request the chance to pick yours.”
“Of course! Go for it, Prince Jinyoung.” Jackson might have enjoyed sifting through the outfits, but he’s also curious as to what Jinyoung wants to choose for him (and why).
That makes the royal smile at him before Jinyoung retrieves the Vediwan equivalent of a holopad from one of the pockets of his robe and taps away at it.
“Thank you. The tailors will arrive shortly with a few options.”
“Oh, we’re - we’re doing this now? Okay.”
“Yes, now.” The prince seems amused by his surprise. “I want your outfit to be perfect by the start of the occasion.”
Jackson can’t quite tell what it is, but something about Jinyoung’s gaze changes when their eyes meet again.
“And we are in private, Lieutenant. You can just refer to me as Jinyoung.”
“Ah? No, what - I couldn’t-” he immediately protests, but the Onag royal simply raises a perfect and also rather intimidating eyebrow at him, lips pulling into something between a pout and a frown. “Prince Jin-”
Jinyoung makes a show of not listening, turning his line of sight to the ceiling on his left. Jackson lets out two notes of a disbelieving high-pitched shriek-giggle. What is his life?
Also, why is this extremely important prince so damn cute?
He bites his upper lip out of habit and releases it. God, fine. If that’s how it is. “Okay, Jinyoung. But in that case, I’m Jackson. Like, I mean, you can call me Jackson. Or Jiaer, if you want.”
Jinyoung looks incredibly self-satisfied for a moment (Jackson is uncannily reminded of a pleased feline) before his expression turns more intrigued. “You have two names?”
“Kind of. Kayee is Cantonese for Jiaer, so I don’t know if it counts,” Jackson says with a shrug, “but I also have a sh--a ton of nicknames.”
“Nicknames?”
“Oh, yeah, I have a lot of nicknames, my family and friends like to call me different things out of, hm, it’s - it’s like a sign of affection.”
Jinyoung nods his understanding. “Can I ask what they call you?”
“Yeah, let me think - so my family and Mark use Gaga, a bunch of friends from my home country use Jiajia, Bambam - Bambam goes P’Jack or Jack-Jack, and he and Mark will also just use Jack, the bridge crew calls me Seun-ah or Seunie sometimes when we’re not on duty…and I’ve also gotten like Jackie, J, Wani...Y’Jia, Sun’nin, Wang-Lang…”
“Seun-ah.” Jinyoung says slowly, like he’s testing out the taste of the syllables on his tongue. “Seun-ah. Seunie. I like them.”
Jackson freezes, surprised by how much he enjoys hearing the nicknames from those lips.
“What’s wrong?” Concern wipes the small smile off of the prince’s handsome face. “Did I overstep?”
“No! No, no, no way, hey, I’m completely fine with it if you - if you want to call me Seun-ah or Seunie, just, usually that would mean we’re close to each other. I don’t know if you’d still want to in that context.”
“I -” Jinyoung falls silent, frowning in contemplation. Jackson internally complains about how the prince makes even thinking look good and tries not to sweat. It would be pretty terrible considering those clothes are supposed to arrive any moment now (probably).
“I think I will use them in the future, then,” Jinyoung finally says, like this matter was something of utmost importance, “for now, I think I should start with Jack - Jackson.”
In yet another moment of emotional seesawing, Jackson can’t tell if he’s more confused by the seemingly misplaced solemnity or disappointed by the nickname thing or euphoric at the sound of his name in that voice. “Sure, yeah, whenever you wa-”
He’s interrupted by a brisk knock on the door. Jinyoung shoots him an apologetic look, but Jackson makes a series of movements that hopefully indicate his simultaneous lack of offense and desire for the tailors to come in.
“Enter,” Jinyoung calls. Four Onag residents do exactly that, two of them wheeling in what looks like a clothing rack with five sets of gorgeous robes and pants hanging from it.
They offer the typical greetings for a prince to Jinyoung and polite greetings to Jackson, who doesn’t bother hiding his “wow!” when the ornate Onag equivalent of a folding screen pops up into existence from the small device an assistant places on the floor tile.
“Please step inside, sir,” the lead tailor requests, bowing slightly as she gestures toward the makeshift dressing room. Jackson carefully accepts the first outfit from her, treating the robes with the care something likely worth his entire annual salary demands.
He strips off his shirt and tank top before pausing. “You can’t - uh, you can’t see me, right? Out there?”
Jackson might not be shy about showing off his body, but this is not in the list of ways he’d prefer to get naked in front of Jinyoung (to say nothing about the tailors just trying to do their jobs). Luckily, he gets multiple reassurances from the Vediwans outside and quickly changes before calling out a slightly nervous “I’m ready!”
The folding screen retracts away.
Jackson seeks out Jinyoung’s gaze immediately and feels himself instinctively puff up a little at the way the prince slowly looks him over.
“These colors suit you very well, sir,” one of the tailors says with a smile, and Jackson thanks him with a grin, chest warming when Jinyoung agrees. There’s something rather enigmatic about the prince’s gaze, but Jackson has no time to wonder about it because he’s immediately ushered back inside the “dressing room” for the other outfits.
To be honest, he’s the most comfortable in outfit number three, but Jinyoung’s reaction to outfit number four reveals the prince’s preference immediately. Jackson’s cheeks go red of their own accord at the intent stare from those striking eyes, and he can’t help internally preening at the obvious appreciation written all over the royal’s features. Jinyoung also keeps glancing at the sash wrapped tightly around Jackson’s waist (and he does make Jackson stand with his back to them for a while, so he kind of hopes that meant Jinyoung took a very long and regal look at the way the robe flows off of his ass).
(He might be a tiny bit breathless, but that’s probably from the gaze and not from the fit of this particular set - or, well, hopefully it isn’t, because Jackson kind of wants Jinyoung to look at him like this a lot more but he also doesn’t want to pass out while dancing.)
“This one, please.” Jinyoung makes his decision to the head tailor, and Jackson watches as the prince very earnestly discusses the suggested adjustments before the tailors and their assistants take their leave, taking all of the clothes away with them.
The Vediwan royal smiles at him. “What do you think?”
“Honestly, I thought all of the choices were really beautiful, ” Jackson says, before something occurs to him, “but can I ask why they’re all uh - why they’re all the same colors? I mean, I think I saw dark blue and silver on Onag’s flag, but why indigo and white?”
To his delighted shock, Jinyoung flushes almost immediately, and the prince looks away.
“They - That is -” Jinyoung clears his throat before continuing, still finding the wall to their side suddenly very interesting, “those colors - indigo and white are my personal colors. I wear them for many...official occasions, such as tomorrow’s.”
“Oh, so we’ll match!” Jackson cheerfully almost-squeals, charmed by the idea, “kind of like being on the same team. Like in the same squad.”
The Vediwan royal’s voice remains a bit strained, expression going strangely a bit dour. “Yes. Something like that.”
Before Jackson can even try to fix whatever’s wrong, because something must be and he really doesn’t want to be why the prince seems slightly upset, Jinyoung pulls his holopad back out, consternation fading away into something more like focus. Music drifts into the air, and he bites his lip briefly as the prince sets the device aside and turns back to him, reluctantly letting whatever it was go.
“The more common dances will be taught at the ball,” Jinyoung says, voice settling into something more like pleasant neutrality, “but I wanted to show you something more particular today.”
“Okay,” Jackson agrees easily, “but wait - first, how do you ask someone to dance?”
“Let me demonstrate” is the simple response and Jackson watches with his heart in his throat as the prince comes closer and closer until there is only approximately a foot of distance between them. The Onag native makes a graceful series of gestures that ends with his right hand cradling his left, both of them in front of him like he’s offering them to Jackson.
“And if you accept, then you will do this.” Every single move Jinyoung makes exudes elegance. Jackson is pretty sure that his version’s going to look quite different and a whole lot less pretty. Still, Jinyoung seems pleased when he places his closed right fist in the prince’s cupped hands, a small smile blooming on that lovely face.
“Perfect.” Jackson, always a sucker for praise, beams. It makes the prince’s smile widen, so win-win, really. “Now we will move onto the dance itself. Watch my movements.”
With pleasure. Only years of experience stops him from saying the thought aloud. And, really, it is an absolute joy to watch the Onag prince dance - he’s sure that Yugyeom has a greater technical appreciation for the art, but Jackson can still enjoy the beauty of the dance and the dancer.
(He doesn’t even stare at Jinyoung’s face the entire time, an honestly Herculean task. His internal Jaebeom should be proud of him.)
“Have you managed to learn the steps?” The prince’s tone is dry enough that Jackson can tell he expects the answer to be negative - which is fair, because it’s true. Jinyoung does seem more amused than annoyed, however - at least, hopefully that eyebrow raise is playful and not derisive.
“I watched,” Jackson says faux-defensively, “I’m just not some kind of genius who can memorize all that immediately, okay?”
“I can see that,” the prince teases, relenting with a laugh when Jackson pouts at him. “Here, let me guide you through each move.”
Jinyoung alternates between gentle and firm when he’s moving Jackson into the correct positions - at times, he softly adjusts the position of Jackson’s fingers or taps the small of his back to get him to arch a little more; at others, he grips Jackson’s waist in both big hands and turns him bodily towards the right direction or pulls Jackson’s arm back to extend further away from his body.
(He even slots his leg against Jackson’s lower thigh to nudge his stance into something a little more open. Jackson desperately thinks of as many unsexy things as he can, but even the terrifying consequences that would come from falling out after shacking up with a very powerful future leader of the world the Federation has just entered into a tentative alliance with barely hold off the potential boner.
It doesn’t help that his mind keeps registering Jinyoung’s instructions as orders. Ugh.
Ugh.)
And yet, somehow that isn’t the most dangerous moment.
Physically speaking, the most dangerous moment is either when Jackson accidentally gets entangled with one of the longer strings of jewelry draped over Jinyoung’s outer pair of horns or when he misjudges and (thankfully lightly) hits the tip of the prince’s ear after they start dancing together.
Jinyoung had taken the lead role, claiming with an almost boyish grin that it’s the harder one and, as such, should go to the much more experienced dancer. Jackson had almost rolled his eyes at the prince - instead, he had pretended to sulk despite the way his poor heart began beating faster in his chest as Jinyoung pulled him into the starting position with a stupidly charming smile.
Both times, Jinyoung had simply laughed while Jackson apologized repeatedly, the prince’s mirth reaching those pretty, pretty eyes and almost making Jackson lose his breath more than the dancing is.
But the actual most dangerous moment comes at the end.
They have to pause and restart a few times, mostly because Jackson still isn’t wholly familiar with the moves. Jinyoung’s clever hands help, however, cueing his next steps through the subtle pressure from those refined fingers, and Jackson, once again, has to try very hard to consciously not think about the prince’s strong, skilled hands in a very different but also very happy context.
That said, he’s also naturally driven to succeed, so Jackson does end up focusing solely on getting the dance completely right without the prince’s prompting - and when they do make it to the end without stopping, he instinctively grins widely in victory, looking up at Jinyoung with triumph on his lips -
Only for anything he might have said to disappear when he suddenly notices how the ending pose has the prince duck down towards him, so close that he imagines he could count the prince’s individual eyelashes (the tech in his contacts is kind of enhanced but still!) - and Jinyoung is still moving in, Jackson fighting his instincts to surge forward and meet him with his mouth.
That caution is rewarded (or punished, depending on which part of him you ask).
Their lips are less than two inches away from each other when Jinyoung stops and very slowly lets go, hands slipping away as he retreats to a more polite distance with obvious reluctance in every step. Jackson immediately misses the closeness and warmth and has to hold his hands behind his back to stop himself from physically reaching out to pull the prince back, rocking back on the balls of his feet awkwardly.
Jinyoung straightens to his full height, dipping his head forward in a tiny bow.
“That was good - very good,” the prince says, tone the most proper it has been all day, “and I will see you at the meeting tomorrow. Have a good night, lieutenant.”
“Right, tomorrow,” Jackson croaks, still finding it hard to swallow around his dry throat, “uh, you too and I’ll - I’ll see you then, Jin -”
He shakes his head. The time for informality is over, at least for now. “Prince Jinyoung.”
Jackson stretches and then starfishes out on the overly luxurious hotel bed with a deep sigh, practically sinking into the mass of criminally soft 100% authentic puffclaw-down pillows (if the cheerful brochure tucked under a nearby vase is to be believed).
Grabbing the holopad from the nightstand reveals that it’s about 2:31 AM KST. He almost tosses it back onto the fancy glass-marble-whatever-it-is surface but places it gently at the last second - this isn’t his cheap excuse of a Starfleet-standardized nightstand, after all.
Jackson stares blankly up at the ceiling. Half past 2 is probably as good a time as any to 1) hope very, very fervently that the dot looming ominously overhead is not an insectoid creature and 2) that the answer to whether or not he should, in fact, be pursuing this thing with Jinyoung shows up in garish neon lights.
If things go kind of wrong between them, Jinyoung could demand that he be punished for his transgressions (and the Federation would allow that to appease a future ally). If things go even more wrong between them, then Jackson will be solely responsible for losing the Federation a valuable ally. But if things go catastrophically wrong between them, then Vediwa could possibly even go to war with the Federation over some slight (perceived or not) - after all, it wouldn’t be the first time that something of that nature has happened.
Jackson has absolutely no intention of making it into the academy’s history books as another cautionary tale.
And yet, he can’t quite find it within himself to retreat from the way his heart pounds when Jinyoung’s gaze goes half-lidded and purposeful - can’t quite get himself to pull away from that warm, wonderful touch, even if he really, really should.
(Plus, Jackson knows that he tends to be a rather good judge of character, and it feels like the prince is much too decent a being to do anything terrible in the name of retaliation.
And isn’t he in a little too deep already anyways?)
With a heartfelt groan, Jackson flops onto his side, buries his face in one of the bigger pillows, and falls into an uneasy sleep.