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“I do.”
And that’s that, Taehyung leans forward, seals the deal.
There’s applause in his ears, deafening. Softness pressing against his lips briefly, before disappearing. His eyes open, and Taehyung sees the ring on his own finger.
That’s it, he’s married.
x
Taehyung sits on the edge of the bed, outer robe undone and inner, loose garments removed in order to sleep well.
His hands clutch the ends of the duvet, soft and delicate underneath his hands.
He sucks in air through his teeth, glancing at the door, which finally opens and shuts delicately.
He didn’t expect his husband to be able to attend to him this very day.
“King Jeongguk.” He addresses the man standing at the entrance, who barely blinks as a response, head tilted just so that it’s barely noticeable.
“My Prince.” He replies, a twinkle in his eyes which would go unnoticed, if Taehyung didn’t know the King the way he did.
“My King.” Taehyung smiles gently, breaking pretence, away from their people, away from the empire, away from their parents. The King doesn’t say much, looking ever so intimidating with dark eyes, darker robes and charcoal hair.
He doesn’t say anything at all, actually. His feet are crossing the distance between the two men with large, deliberate and slow strides, making the room look seem smaller than it really is.
Jeongguk finds himself before the seated man within seconds, standing just shy of his knees, almost bent over him with his height.
“Haven’t you heard, your Highness? It’s not very Prince-like to lounge around in unkempt robes.” Jeongguk murmurs, lifting a hand to brush it across the other’s jaw. Taehyung’s face follows his touch, eyes fluttering shut momentarily.
“I suppose so, my King. But prince like behaviour is only for princes, and I have reason to believe I am not a prince anymore.” Taehyung says, dainty and playful. Or attempting to be, at least.
“Oh? And what might that reason be?” Jeongguk asks, pretentious, slotting his thumb over the curve of Taehyung’s lip and rubbing gently.
“Got married to a King quite recently, which I suppose makes me King too.”
“Well, that’s a pity. I’m in love with a prince, which is why I can’t fulfill my duties towards you as a spouse.” Jeongguk says, unbelievably close to Taehyung’s own lips. He can feel short, fast puffs of hot breath on his own lips, and Jeongguk can tell Taehyung is happy.
“I can be that prince for you, at least till my coronation tomorrow.” Said prince stares right into Jeongguk’s eyes, deer like gaze innocent and pure. Like it always has been.
Since from the moment Jeongguk first saw Taehyung. Oh, such a beauty he was, even at the tip of Jeongguk’s sword. Not letting a word of betrayal slip his mouth as he boldly demanded death, at least he would go out in honour of his nation.
He had looked so beautiful then. Narrowed eyes, flushed cheeks and wet eyelashes, splatters of blood and wounds scattered over his body, neck blemished with injuries.
Jeon Jeongguk has seen his fair share of beautiful maidens and men, but nothing like Kim Taehyung of Gwacheon. The one with the prettiest smile.
“Kill me with your sword then, warrior. Find out if it’ll do your King any good, if you’ll make another soul any happier by making my blood drip down your weapon.” He had said, overdramatic and exaggerated.
Later, the prince had confessed after many glasses of wine, that the bold words had been attempts to cover up his shaking hands.
Jeongguk will never forget the innocence in Taehyung’s eyes. He will make sure that no one, let alone himself, makes it vanish. Jeon Jeongguk was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, which later developed into a silver sword in his hand, to protect the people. To always protect the people, but now he has a reason to do so.
Because they are not only his people, but his and Taehyung’s people.
“You could be anything darling, but you’ll still be my prince.” Jeongguk speaks, quiet and inaudible but Taehyung hears. He hears the silent plea in Jeongguk’s lips, unshed tears.
Oh, how this has been a difficult journey.
Keeping their love a secret, convincing the empires that the matrimony was only limited to peace amongst nations. Throw in a kingdom wide celebration, and the people were happy.
Whispered words spoken through shut windows, coded and secret letters sent through cheap, unreliable carrier pigeons, needy embraces and stolen kisses shared in the middle of tough nights. Yeah, it has been a difficult journey for King Jeongguk of Busan and to be King Taehyung of Busan.
“Always your prince, Jeonggukie.” Taehyung murmurs, boldly closing the distance between the two as his hand lingers somewhere on Jeongguk’s chest, the other stroking his jaw.
Jeongguk kisses back slow, but desperate. Desperate for all the months they’ve missed out on, all those months that could’ve been spent laughing in bed rather than being wounded at each others’ swords. His hand pulls on the small of Taehyung’s back, setting him on the ground momentarily before sitting him back down into his own lap after Jeongguk has settled down on the bed.
This, Taehyung so comfortable in Jeongguk’s hold, is new. The endless amount of time in their hands to love, is new.
So Jeongguk doesn’t count the time either, because it’s endless.
The kisses he peppers against the throat of his lover are infinite, the gentle bites against Taehyung’s collars are uncountable. They’re going to be covered up by the robes anyways, but for now, Jeongguk wants the robes to come off.
And so they do, him unfastening the belt holding it together. Taehyung’s lets the silky garment drop to the floor, shying away a little prettily. Jeongguk only pushes the skinnier man’s body into his further, hands finding their place around his waist bones, playing with the taught skin of his stomach, his torso.
“So sensitive, lovely.”
He traces over skin with wanting hands, eyes swallowing in every span of visible tan skin. Taehyung barely holds back a whimper, lets his hips rut in Jeongguk’s lap.
Out of embarrassment, mostly, he tilts Jeonggguk’s head up with impatient hands, kissing him once again, this time more desperate, faster.
Angrier.
To make up for lost time.
“Off, take it off.” Taehyung whimpers and tugs at the tightly wound garment around Jeongguk’s body. Jeongguk witnesses a side of Taehyung that he had rarely seen before.
The King doesn’t have to remove his clothes anyways, as his lover does the honours. Shaky hands unbutton expensive cloth, dainty little fingers tracing every path of skin that’s revealed.
“Taehyung, what-” Jeongguk sucks in a breath, Taehyung’s hot mouth clasped around his left nipple suddenly. There’s a rise of heat in his belly, and Jeongguk sneaks up a hand into Taehyung’s silky tresses, pulling a little tightly, the other supporting his bent body.
The prince traces every part of Jeongguk’s revealed torso with desperation, with thirst, and it feels good.
Feels good to not have to pull apart every time footsteps are heard, and feels even better to just mindlessly nose at each other’s necks, leaving colourful blemishes in their wake.
Because stories like this one, of secret romances between two very wanting lovers, very rarely end up as happy endings.
And so Taehyung is willing to accept the time they’ve lost, only to reach this ending.
Jeongguk is willing to loose all of his family again if it lead to being with Taehyung early.
But time cannot be rewinded, but it can be prolonged. So Taehyung and Jeongguk will try to pause their own, as long as possible. Until even their happy ending turns into one of tragedy.
“You sure you want to do this, lovely?” Jeongguk whispers much later, worried about corrupting Taehyung, never having gone so far before.
He doesn’t want to snatch Taehyung’s innocence away from him.
“I’ve been wanting to since so long, Jeongguk. Please, please.”
And honestly, Jeongguk would murder for his prince, so what’s to chipping away some of his innocence?
So, Jeongguk gives his lover what he wants.