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Jimin shouldn't be here.
He has work to do; if he's caught he'll be scolded, his ears boxed. But when he'd heard the sixth prince was sparring today, he hadn't been able to resist. Now he's slipped through the crowd to lean against the fence and watch, small form coming in handy at times like this.
The prince spars with a man who looks older, but they're well-matched. Jungkook can always hold his own; Jimin's seen him do it enough to maintain that he's one of the best, better even than his brothers. Everyone likes to praise the second prince for his swordsmanship, but Jimin secretly thinks Jungkook is much more skilled.
"Can't believe Wonho thought he could match up to His Highness," a woman standing near Jimin says conversationally. She looks like a palace guard.
Jimin rests his chin on his arms and glances at her curiously. "Oh?"
"He was being cocky," she shrugs. "They tend to be like that when it comes to His Highness."
Jimin shapes his mouth in an understanding oh and returns his attention to Jungkook, who's dodging neatly out of the way of his opponent's sword. Despite the guard's words, it's clear the match isn't exactly easy; sweat drips down Jungkook's bare back, dark hair matted to his forehead. When he pulls away from Wonho, the fight coming to a brief standstill as they circle each other, his chest heaves with his panting breath.
Wonho lunges for him first, and Jungkook sidesteps him, the move quick and controlled. He parries, putting the pressure back on Wonho. Jimin's gaze catches on the way Jungkook's straining muscles bulge as their swords clash, his jaw set tight in concentration, drawing out the angles of his handsome face.
"You're drooling," Sungwoon whispers right by his ear.
Jimin twitches, tugging away as his breath tickles his skin. "Shut up," he hisses, but Sungwoon only laughs. He hadn't wanted to come, insisted that Jimin was going to get them both in trouble, but in the end he'd tagged along anyway. Jimin suspects he fancies one of the guards and just won't say.
Sungwoon's interruption draws his focus away from Jungkook long enough that when he glances back, the fight's over. The prince has his opponent on the ground, sword pointed at his throat. Jimin sulks, nudging Sungwoon for making him miss the best part.
Jungkook's grinning when he drops his sword carelessly to the ground, raising his hands in triumph as he heads over to the fence of onlookers. Jimin's eyes widen, realizing abruptly that he'll be right in front of them in another second. His heart stutters in his chest. He has a pretty smile, a pretty face, and it cuts such a contrast to the chiseled muscle of his abdomen and chest. Jimin finds his gaze drawn to them, to the droplets of sweat clinging to the ridges of his stomach.
"Shit, I see the old man," Sungwoon suddenly hisses by his ear. "Come on, you can ogle your crush later!"
Jimin blinks, startled out of his daze, and realizes the prince is only a few feet away. He's looking right at him, gaze curious, interested. Jimin flushes on instinct and spins away, fleeing through the crowd after Sungwoon.
They make it back to work without the stable master noticing. Sungwoon's much more at peace now that they are back where they're supposed to be, which only means his teasing's ramped up a notch.
"Can you imagine anything more hopeless?" He's giggling as he rakes leaves in Jimin's direction. "Fancying a prince ."
"I don't fancy anyone," Jimin seethes, kicking the leaves back at Sungwoon.
"You've still got a bit of dried drool on your chin, I think - "
Jimin lobs an empty sack of horse feed at him. “I just - I find him skilled, that’s all.”
Jimin’s ears flame red with his obvious lie. It isn’t just that, of course it isn’t, not after his serendipitous encounter with the prince a year ago. He’d been carrying too many bags of feed to the stables, struggling under the weight after overestimating his own strength. Jungkook had plucked two bags right off the top of his stack and deposited them by the stables, striding off back to whatever he was doing before Jimin could so much as thank him. He doesn’t think Jungkook had even seen his face, but Jimin had thought of that for days.
“Hopeless,” Sungwoon repeats. Jimin huffs, grabbing a jug of water and heading inside the stables.
He refills the water for the horses, thinking about exactly how ridiculous his fancy really is. Jungkook’s a prince, and Jimin’s just Jimin. He has nothing to his name. For Jungkook to even look in his direction feels like more than anything he could have asked for.
Voices filter in through the half-open barn doors, and Jimin starts, wondering if the stable master’s stopped by to check on them.
“Jimin - ” Sungwoon calls, sounding a little frantic, and Jimin tries to look as busy as possible.
It isn’t the stable master.
Standing in the doorway is the sixth prince himself, Jeon Jungkook.
Jimin sets his water bucket down so quickly it splashes onto his feet, sinking into a bow. “Y-Your Highness,” he stammers, wondering what Jungkook could possibly be doing here when his steed is kept in the other stables, not this one, and even then he has no reason to fetch his horse himself -
Jungkook leans against the doorjamb, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks like he came straight here from sparring, loose white shirt tossed haphazardly on, the neck untied so that it dips to the tops of his abdomen. He’s still sweaty, cheeks still flushed, but he doesn’t look tired. He looks interested. His gaze flickers around the stables curiously before settling on Jimin, still standing in the empty stall.
“I like the look of these stables,” he says easily. “Perhaps I’ll have my steed moved here.”
“O-oh.” Jimin blinks, eyes wide, before collecting himself and dipping into another bow. “Um, yes, Your Highness.”
Jungkook steps inside the barn, keeps glancing around like he’s never been in one before, running his hands along the closed stall doors. Most of the horses are out; it’s a nice day, and many of the palace residents are out on rides. Some of the others are being exercised. Jimin tenses the closer Jungkook draws to him, doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, if he should get back to work or wait for orders.
Jungkook stops at Jimin’s stall, leaning over the gate and staring at him with a tilted head. “Whose stall is this?” he asks, as if the golden plaque with its resident’s name isn’t right next to him.
Jimin glances at it a little pointedly and answers, “Cheonma, Your Highness. Lady Kyungri’s stallion.”
“Ah.” He shrugs. Jimin can’t help but notice the way the movement shifts his shirt, shows off his smooth collarbones. “I’ll have to ask her to move, then. I want this stall.”
“There’s an empty stall at the end of the barn,” Jimin ventures, gesturing in its direction. “After Lord Junhee’s horse passed away - ”
“I want this one.”
Jimin blinks. There’s something in the decided way Jungkook’s looking at him that has him flushing, though he can’t pinpoint what it is. “Oh.”
“If I have my steed moved here, will you take care of him?” Jungkook asks, lips curling upward.
The heat in his face intensifies. “Of course, Your Highness.”
“Excellent.”
He says nothing more, and Jimin can’t bear to stand there squirming under his gaze for another moment. He edges toward the water bucket, peeking back at Jungkook to see if he minds, but he’s still watching, chin in hand. Jimin finishes refilling Cheonma’s water and realizes his dilemma. He stops in front of the gate with the bucket in hand and hopes Jungkook will get the hint.
He doesn’t. In fact, he seems to enjoy watching Jimin squirm, the twitch of his lips widening into a full smile.
“Excuse me,” Jimin dares, peering at him under his lashes.
Jungkook’s smile turns into a grin. He pushes off the gate and tugs it open, just enough for Jimin to edge by. “What’s your name, stable boy?” Jungkook asks when Jimin’s arm brushes his chest.
“Jimin,” he mumbles, stepping past him as quickly as he can.
“I’ve seen you before, Jimin,” he says. Jimin likes the way his name falls from the prince’s lips. “You come to watch me spar.”
Jimin glances at him in surprise. “You noticed?” he blurts, then flushes immediately. Jungkook’s still grinning, an eyebrow quirked. “I mean - ”
“Of course,” Jungkook says. Jimin hadn’t made it far before turning back, so when Jungkook steps toward him, they’re close again. Only the water bucket in Jimin’s arms is between them. " You're so pretty," he murmurs, reaching out to brush his knuckles lightly against Jimin's cheek. He feels the touch all the way to his bones, feels like his skin is on fire, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. "How could I not notice?"
Jimin blinks up at him, mouth dry. He licks his lips and doesn't miss the way Jungkook's gaze tracks the movement. "Thank you."
"Did you come to see me?" Jungkook asks, and it feels like a genuine question rather than a playful one, his head tilted curiously as his hand drops back to his side.
"Yes," Jimin dares. "You're a good fighter, Your Highness."
"You think so?" He takes the water bucket from Jimin's hands, ignoring his protest, and sets it aside. He's free to step closer to Jimin now, their toes touching. Jimin wishes he hadn't caught him in the stables, wonders if he smells like hay and if his tunic is stained - but it doesn't seem to matter. Jungkook's eyes are fixed on his face.
"Yes," Jimin repeats, and it feels like a game. There's hardly any space left between them, and Jimin isn't a fool. He licks his lips again, finds himself saying, "You're strong."
"Am I?" Jungkook asks, even though Jimin can see he knows the answer in his amused, flickering gaze.
Jimin plays along anyway, heart stuttering as he reaches out to wrap a hand around Jungkook's bicep. His fingers don't meet around the muscle. "See?" he says, squeezing lightly for emphasis.
He peers at Jungkook, hopes he hasn't gone too far. Jungkook's a prince, after all, and princes don't like to be touched by stable boys. But Jungkook's eyes are dark, interested, as he puts his hands on Jimin's waist. "I can show you how strong I am, if you'd like," he says, and closes the last bit of distance between them.
His lips hover just over Jimin's, their breaths mingling, as if he's giving him the chance to pull away. Jimin closes the distance instead, eyes fluttering shut. Jungkook kisses like it's a challenge, tugging Jimin's body against his as renders him breathless. Jimin feels like he's losing himself in his arms, knees wobbling, letting Jungkook hold him up as he draws kiss after kiss from his mouth.
When he finally pulls away, they're panting for breath. Jimin leans into his chest, flushed and overwhelmed, hands fisting into Jungkook's sleeves. He's still trying to collect himself, but Jungkook's looking at him like he doesn't want to let go. Like he's only getting started.
"Will you come back to my rooms, Jimin?" Jungkook asks, and Jimin doesn't hesitate in saying yes.
* * *
"So," Sungwoon says, drawing out the vowel unnecessarily, when they lie next to each other in the loft that night. "Was he good?"
Jimin reaches out and smacks his stomach, aim perfect even in the dark. Sungwoon curls up with an oof . "Who said that was any of your business, huh?"
"Come on, Jiminie," he whines. "Let me live vicariously through you, I haven't gotten any in ages - "
"Shut up, like I want to know," he hisses. They lie in silence. He can almost hear Sungwoon pouting. "He was good."
Sungwoon waits, then, "And?"
Jimin turns onto his side to face him, grinning even though he knows Sungwoon can't see. "He was big."
Sungwoon swats at his arm. " And ?"
"He's got a mouth on him, Sungwoonie, you'd never think he was a prince with the things he said."
"That so?"
" And he said he would find me again."
Sungwoon whistles lowly. "Look at you, bagging a prince. Don't forget me when you're swimming in jewels."
"Shut up," Jimin giggles, turning onto his stomach. He hides his grin in his arms.
To think, a year ago he would have melted just to have the prince's gaze on him once, and now he's promised to see him again. Jimin drifts off to sleep smiling, thoughts of Jungkook filling his mind.