Chapter Text
There was a soft tinkling sound coming from somewhere in the room, but Yoongi was too distracted to find its source. He was looking at the sweetest little baby, holding it in his arms and smiling. His nephew was more beautiful than he could have imagined. If only that moment hadn’t led to what happened next.
“Yoongi, Father wants to speak with you.”
“Okay.”
Yoongi smiled up at his brother and sister-in-law, then offered the baby to one of them. His sister-in-law took their son from him and Yoongi left the room.
The palace was not exactly small, so it took him almost ten minutes to leave the west wing, where his brother and his family resided, and make it to the throne room. Yoongi wasn’t in the biggest hurry. He doubted there was anything major that his father needed to bring up with him. (He was wrong. He hadn’t learned it yet.)
The throne room was incredibly long and drawn out. Yoongi had always wondered why they had constructed it to be so large, walking it was tedious. This wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to do. The floors were marble and the thrones white with gold. The ceiling had a large skylight, which made the thrones glint almost blindingly when the light hit them at the wrong angle.
As Yoongi got to the end of the room and mounted the stairs, he realized his father and mother were both there, plus some of their political advisors. Apparently they did have something serious to talk about if all of them were there.
A lump formed in Yoongi’s throat, feeling on edge as he stood in front of them. He folded his hands behind his back.
“Yoongi, now that our first grandchild has been born and a boy at that, it’s time we talk to you about your role in the royal family.”
Yoongi blinked. This was a strange conversation to be having when he was already twenty-six years old. In most fairy tales and stories, a prince would have been informed of their role in their youth. Yoongi had never experienced such a thing and aside from living in a palace, sometimes he forgot that he was the Second Crown Prince of Daegu.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit late?” Yoongi asked, trying not to sound curt.
He didn’t particularly like standing in front of all of his father’s advisors and council. It was as if he was being judged and that put the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, a lovely combo to go with the lump in his throat.
“Well, we had to wait until an heir was born before we enforced the traditions. You cannot impede yourself from having access to what you need until you know you have it,” said one council member, a stocky older man whose name Yoongi had never bothered to learn.
The sentence made absolutely no sense to Yoongi and he made sure to keep his expression stoic, instead of showing just how confused and stupid he thought the other man sounded.
“You see, my son,” his father began, “There is a very old tradition in the royal line of which we must follow. It hasn’t been enforced in many years, due to our family only having a single son, regardless of whether they have sisters or not, for the past few generations.”
While he was familiar with the idea that the first born son would be the next king, he wasn’t quite sure what his father was leading up to. The first son was the only one who had ever mattered. He’d never particularly minded. It had been damper when he was young, but as Yoongi had grown up, he had realized he had a lot more freedom than his brother did in terms of deciding what he got to do.
“When there was more than one son in the family, it sometimes led to family strife and treachery. So, a rule was created to make sure the first born son always had claim to the throne, so long as he produced a first born son himself.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the words. He still didn’t really understand what his father was trying to explain to him, but hearing that it had something to do with knowing the next king had another king lined up behind him explained why his brother and sister-in-law had been pressured to have children so soon after marriage. Yoongi had assumed it was about age, but apparently not.
“Can you just tell me what you’re trying to say?”
Yoongi didn’t mean to be rude, but he was tired of his father beating around the bush. This had something to do with him and his status as the second prince and he wanted to know now instead of having to wonder.
“You’ll need to be married by your nephew’s first birthday. To a man.”
His father said it with utmost seriousness, but Yoongi still waited for him to laugh or crack a joke. It had to be a joke. There was no way there was some sort of ancient law which said that another prince had to marry a man. The peninsula of Korea barely accepted homosexuality as it was, so it made no logical sense for him to try to justify it.
After what felt like an eternity of silence between them, Yoongi cleared his throat.
“I don’t understand.”
One of the council members stepped forward, another man, much older than anyone else standing among the group by the throne.
“The law was made so that no other heir could be produced to threaten the first born son’s claim to the throne. Once the prince in line to be king produces a male heir who shall be prince, any and all of his brothers will be made to marry a man so that he may not produce a son who could vie to take the throne from the first born.”
Yoongi felt like he had been thrown into some ridiculous period drama, but everyone was looking at him so seriously that he couldn’t even laugh. His stomach twisted into knots at the realization that he did not in fact have the freedom he had been so convinced he had. His life was as shackled by being a royal as his brother’s was.
“So, I…” He struggled to put words together, his throat tight. “I have to marry a man, because you don’t want me to possibly pose a threat to hyung’s right to the throne.”
“Not his, but his son’s.”
Yoongi clicked his tongue. “Don’t you realize how ridiculous this sounds?”
“It is the law of the land, Yoongi,” his father said.
The finality in his voice left no room for argument and it was what hurt Yoongi the most. He felt like he could throw up at any moment.
“Since you are royalty and must still provide class and title in your rank, you will be provided a list of suitors who you may approach for a marriage proposal,” another advisor said.
That really made Yoongi feel like he was going to hurl and he put his hand over his mouth. Not only did he have to marry a man, but he couldn’t select whatever man he wanted? He had to marry someone worthy of his title. It was arranged marriage, something Yoongi thought people didn’t even do anymore.
Yoongi stared at them, trying to hold the contents of his stomach in. He looked for any indication that this was all a cruel joke they were playing on him, but it was no use. When his eyes met his mother’s, dewy and filled with sorrow, he knew that it was set in stone.
He turned on his heel and ran, really ran, wanting to escape this reality he was in. Why did the throne room have to be so long? It was as if his torment had to begin right then and there.
Yoongi had refused to speak with his family for two days and kept to his rooms. He had his food delivered to him and didn’t bother to make any contact with the outside world. After scrolling through the news on his phone and seeing the announcement of his nephew’s birth, it had reminded him of his apparent duty. Now he felt bitter about his nephew and that made him feel awful. He didn’t want to hold a grudge against a newborn. That was pathetic and weird.
On the third day of being in his room, he was delivered the list of suitors he had to choose from. Yoongi refused to look at it for another day, distracting himself by playing the piano and watching stupid videos on Youtube.
Finally, curiosity got the better of him and he rolled out the list. There were quite a lot of suitors and Yoongi slowly went down it. It was a barebones list—only names and what their title was, plus where they were from. Yoongi wondered how the bachelors for him to be matched with had been selected. Were they also second sons? Did they identify as gay? Were they even aware this was something they could be selected for? He was still so confused and unsure of what was going to happen.
Within a year, he had to be married to a man so that he couldn’t produce an heir. It was such a ludicrous idea. He was finding it hard to believe his parents were even going through with it. Why no one had changed that law in the hundreds of years that had passed was a thought he found himself coming back to over and over. If his brother was king, he would have asked him to change it, but he wouldn’t become king until their father passed.
He was finally starting to feel stir crazy in his room, cabin fever at its finest, and decided to go out. Dressed in distressed jeans and an oversized sweater, Yoongi took one of the side passages out of the palace and emerged onto the streets of Daegu.
He’d always preferred leaving home without his family’s crest. He would blend into the crowds and so long as no one recognized him, he got to act like he was a normal person. That was what it was like to be among the people.
For a little while, he wandered the streets. He had no particular destination and drifted from place to place, observing the people, checking out what fashion was popular now. He found his way to his favorite café, which happened to be right next to a bookstore and only a few streets from the library.
Coffee was a sustenance Yoongi couldn’t live without. This café in particular made a delicious drip coffee that not even the palace cooks could recreate. Since he liked drinking the coffee straight, its flavor mattered quite a lot to him and this one in particular couldn’t be passed up. It also helped that the main barista was a pretty cute guy.
Yoongi actually was quite interested in men. He didn’t really have a label, because in general, he wasn’t too interested in romantic or sexual relationships, but he could definitely appreciate someone’s physical appearance. It was why, in his core, he knew he wasn’t actually too upset about the idea of marrying a man—it was the fact that he had to do so for some outdated tradition.
Case in point, this barista, one Kim Taehyung, was a good looking young man. He had a handsome face and was on the tall side, with a nice build, not muscular, but also not pudgy. Taehyung’s looks were kind of ideal. In comparison to Yoongi’s own—slender, short, and almost squishy—it was quite impressive.
“Hyung, hi!” Taehyung called from behind the counter, “It’s been a while.”
Yoongi liked Taehyung because he treated him like a normal person. They’d met through some mutual friends in college and Yoongi had tutored Taehyung for a year or so for a handful of music classes. It was well known that one of the crown princes had attended the college, but by the time Taehyung had put two and two together, he was already used to Yoongi as Yoongi and didn’t bother trying to treat him different once he’d learned his status.
“I’ve been busy,” Yoongi said. He was trying to keep cool and not think about his problems. “I’d like a drip coffee.”
“Hyung, I already know what you like to order,” Taehyung said, “I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.”
“Thanks.”
Yoongi found a free table in the corner and sat down. Despite his depression over his predicament, he had brought the list with him and found himself pulling it out of his bag to look at it again. There were so many names and Yoongi wished there was more information included. He supposed he could go to the library and do some research.
“What’s that?”
Yoongi had been so absorbed in the list that Taehyung had snuck up on him with his coffee.
“A-Ah, it’s…”
The barista sat down across from him, sliding the large cup over to Yoongi. Yoongi reached for it and removed the lid, letting the coffee cool for a few minutes so that he could bear to drink it. His tongue was too sensitive for freshly brewed drinks. Taehyung had his own drink, probably a latte.
“It looks like a list of names?” Taehyung said.
Yoongi wondered what Taehyung was doing sitting with him, but he was most likely on his break. It was unlike the younger man to leave his post unattended otherwise.
“I…”
Maybe talking about it would help. Maybe Taehyung would have some insight.
“My parents dropped the bomb on me that I have to get married within a year to follow along with an ancient law.”
“Seriously? Why? What does it do?”
“In order for the throne to remain unthreatened by outside sources, all the princes who aren’t first born are required to marry a man so that they cannot produce a child who could be a threat to the inheritance of the throne,” Yoongi recited.
Taehyung stared at him, blinked slow a couple times. Yoongi felt like he could see the gears turning in the younger man’s head while he tried to process what he’d been told.
“They don’t want you to have kids? What kind of parent doesn’t want their kid to have kids?”
“Apparently mine.”
Yoongi capped his coffee and took a sip. It was the perfect temperature and his tongue was safe from being burnt.
“So, what’s the list for?” Taehyung asked then.
“It’s every approved bachelor that I have the choice to marry, I guess. It’s ridiculous. I don’t know what to do.”
Taehyung scooted his chair over so he could look at the list. He squinted and Yoongi wondered if perhaps he’d forgotten to wear contacts that day.
“This doesn’t tell you anything,” Taehyung said in annoyance, “There’s not even ages. What if some of these guys are ancient? They only care about how royal they are?”
“Basically. Nobility is everything. A prince can’t marry someone ‘normal,’” he said, making air quotes appropriately.
“That sucks, hyung.”
Yoongi bit his lip, feeling a bit irritated that Taehyung had minimized the situation to it “sucking.” It was only his entire future riding on the line. But he couldn’t hold it against him. It’s not like Taehyung was royalty or any sort of nobility. He didn’t understand and Yoongi couldn’t fault him for that.
“You should look them up,” Taehyung said then.
“Huh?”
“Look them up on Naver. You have their names, titles, and where they live. It shouldn’t be so hard to find them.”
“Oh! That’s true.”
Yoongi wondered why he hadn’t thought of that in the first place. That could help weed out those on the list that he knew he wouldn’t match with or at least narrow down his choices in hopes of finding someone who he could be compatible with.
“Thank you, Taehyung! You’re a lifesaver.”
Yoongi had spent a few hours in the café drinking coffee and looking up the people on the list. Many of them were slim pickings, if he had to be honest. They had minor titles, barely qualifying as nobility, but still noble. The ones that did have significant titles seemed like they were mostly assholes, if their social media and headlines on Naver were anything to go by.
He had been surprised to find one Jung Hoseok on the list. Said Jung Hoseok also happened to be one of Yoongi’s close friends. He had never had romantic feelings for him, but of all the people on the list, Hoseok was someone he wouldn’t mind being married to. They were friends, so they knew each other well. They could learn to love one another maybe or figure out an arrangement.
Yoongi didn’t feel so hopeless.
He and Hoseok usually got together to have lunch once a week. They’d been friends since middle school and had even gone to college together. It was a bit odd to him how he had never thought about Hoseok being royalty in some fashion, but it explained how they had been allowed to get so close when they were young. Yoongi’s family had always been very proper and he hadn’t been allowed to associate with just anyone when he was young.
Yoongi took the car out to see Hoseok, meeting him at a high end restaurant downtown. He wished he could remove the flags which flew the family crest, but even if he did, the symbol was emblazoned on the car’s hood. If only he was allowed to ride the bus.
“Welcome, your highness,” the maître d’ greeted.
Yoongi nodded to them while he removed his coat and had it checked. Hoseok was already waiting for him and Yoongi was escorted to the table.
It was almost a perfect romantic setting already—small, intimate tables with candles and a single rose centerpiece. Maybe it would help soften the blow of what Yoongi was about to ask.
Hoseok grinned at him from over his menu, hair crimped and smile blinding even in the dim lighting.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late.”
“The prince is never late. Don’t worry about it.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes and sat down. He flicked through the menu to select something. They silence between them was comfortable and neither of them spoke until after they had placed their order.
“So, you said you had something crazy to talk to me about?
“Yeah,” Yoongi said, “How familiar are you with ancient laws?”
“If they’re not used frequently, probably not.”
Hoseok was working within the main legislative branch of Daegu and had graduated from law school only the year before. He wondered if Hoseok had known about this law, but somehow he was pretty sure if he’d known, he’d have told Yoongi about it.
“Apparently there’s an old law that says that all sons who are not the first born must marry a man so that they will not produce a male heir who could try to take the throne.”
Hoseok choked on his Sprite. Some of it dribbled out of his mouth, making him look unpresentable, and he quickly wiped himself with a napkin.
“You’re joking, right?”
“I wish, but my father and his council told me that I have to be married by next year.”
Hoseok went through different facial expressions ranging from shock to frustration to confusion in a matter of seconds. He then laughed and ran his hand through his hair.
“It wouldn’t even work. It’s not like such a law would stop a prince from going out and having a bastard child with a woman.”
Yoongi hadn’t even considered that, but it was true. The law was good only in social standing alone. Unless the council was going to police his relationship or monitor him for the rest of his life, what was stopping him from still having kids? Yoongi himself was honor bound and knew he wouldn’t break the rules, but he wondered how many princes who it’d been applied to had faithfully done so.
“Ha ha, yeah,” he said, feeling the nerves build in his belly, “Well, you see…”
Hoseok looked up at him. “You’re not really going to do it, are you?”
“That’s why I’m here…” Yoongi looked down at his lap, feeling stupid. “You’re one of the eligible bachelors.”
Hoseok said nothing and Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to look at him. The silence between them was palpable and he wished he hadn’t said anything. Now it was awkward with one of his dearest friends.
“It’s…It’s not that I’m in love with you,” Yoongi said, “It’s my duty to fulfill. And I hate it, but what am I supposed to do? So, when I saw your name, I thought maybe I could do it. We’re already such good friends. It would be a marriage of convenience, but maybe we could learn to love each other. Those feelings could grow once we’re married, like many arranged marriages do. I know this is very sudden, but can’t you just consider? Don’t you think that maybe you could love me?”
He knew he sounded pathetic and pleading, but what else was he to do? He didn’t want Hoseok to hate him and he didn’t want him to misunderstand. Yoongi was trying to make the best of his situation. Could someone fault him for that?
Their food was brought out to them and Hoseok still hadn’t spoken. Yoongi didn’t feel like he could eat anymore, so he played the part and pushed his food around his dish, unwilling to make eye contact with his friend across the table.
Finally, Hoseok sighed.
“I’m sorry, Yoongi, but I can’t. It’s not because I don’t like you or I don’t want to help you. It’s just that…” He bit his lip. “I’m in love with someone else.”
Yoongi’s eyes flew to him and he could see the guilt on his face, in his eyes. He didn’t want to hurt Yoongi and that was all that mattered.
Yoongi said, “I didn’t know.”
“Most people don’t. I don’t exactly publicize it.”
“Do I know them? Is it someone important?”
Hoseok nodded while he began to cut his food. “It’s the dancer, Park Jimin. He’s in the Busan theater group that set up here about a year ago.”
“How did you meet him?”
“Work, believe it or not. His trainer was trying to sue him. It was dumb, but I got a date out of it,” Hoseok said with a little laugh.
“You’re…together?”
“Not officially, but…” He took a bite. “I want to be. I’ve never felt this way before about anyone. That’s why I can’t agree to marry you. I don’t want to sabotage myself. I’m sorry.”
Yoongi respected that Hoseok was being honest with him and that he was standing by his own beliefs and dreams. He couldn’t fault him for any of that.
“I understand. I hope this doesn’t change anything,” Yoongi said.
“Not at all. We’re still best friends.”
Yoongi smiled at him. He would have to go back to the list, but at least he had Hoseok by his side through it all now.
Yoongi was left with only a few options from the list after his Hoseok plan fell through. He was already starting to feel hopeless.
“What if I can’t find anyone who will marry me?” he asked over dinner.
“Someone will agree. Or it will be arranged,” his father said.
“You’ll find someone, Yoongi,” his brother said in an attempt to comfort but only made Yoongi feel worse.
No one understood what he was going through and it felt like they didn’t care. They just wanted him to fulfill his duty. It made Yoongi wish he was not a prince even more. He had been wishing that for many years.
In his room, Yoongi sat at the piano and looked over the names. His fingers moved idly over the ivory keys, a soft noise drifting out every few seconds. The piano had once been his escape from reality, but it was that same reality that took his escape from him, so now the instrument was but a bitter memory of what could have been.
There were three names on the list that Yoongi could pursue as a possibility before he would have to settle for someone he knew he would never get along with or have anything in common.
The first was one Kim Seokjin, a lord of Gwacheon and distant cousin to the royal family of Seoul. He was only a few months older than Yoongi, so they would probably have similar childhoods and references for things, which would make him easy to talk to. Seokjin was apparently a social media mogul, having more than a million followers on his Instagram and running his own Youtube channel, blog, and more. Yoongi had looked up his profiles and been met with dozens of selfies and pictures of food. There had been no in between and it made Yoongi suspect that Seokjin was very much about attention. He didn’t think their personalities would mesh well, but online personas were a thing, so he still had to give him a chance.
Second was Jeon Jeongguk, a prince of Busan. Busan was one of the major kingdoms within Korea, bigger than Daegu, and his marriage to a crown prince would be a very big deal. The thing was, Jeongguk was four years younger than Yoongi. A twenty-two year old prince would be uninterested in settling down, especially one as important and popular as Jeongguk. Yoongi mostly figured that Jeongguk’s family wouldn’t approve of the marriage, since they would want their son to marry a woman of his stature most likely. He hadn’t heard if Busan was very progressive in their royal family in accepting non-heterosexual marriage. It would be worth a try, though, and Yoongi had already sent a letter off asking to arrange to meet him.
Last, but not least, was Kim Namjoon, a minor lord of Goyang’s royal family who resided in Ilsan, according to what Yoongi could find. He was the most intriguing to Yoongi because there was so little information about him. Namjoon was an author, with three novels published and two nonfiction books on gardening and herbology. Despite that, there were no photos of him on the internet and he had no social media accounts. There was only his official website, a plain thing in earth tones, which listed his publications, some of which had been printed in national and international publications—both fiction and science journals—and his alma mater. The only thing worth bragging about was his apparent high IQ, but even that was underplayed on his website. It seemed that Namjoon’s royalty was the least interesting thing about him and that was almost refreshing. His low profile was appealing to him but that meant he probably didn’t want to meet with Yoongi, who was very high profile. He was last on Yoongi’s list, but he would be his best bet if Jeongguk or Seokjin fell through.
With a sigh, Yoongi pushed the thoughts of marriage from his brain and started to play the piano until he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore.
On a Saturday, a few weeks later, Yoongi loaded onto the train with Hoseok and a guard and rode to Busan. It only took an hour, but Yoongi wished he could have stayed on the train. His stomach was in knots the entire time and having a friend with him wasn’t helping. Hoseok had tried to have conversations with him, but they always came back to the arranged marriage somehow and it made Yoongi feel sick.
They arrived at the palace of Busan not long after getting off the train and Yoongi had never seen so many stairs in his life.
“We have to climb these?”
“Yes, sire,” his guard said.
He let out a groan before he started up the brick steps. Hoseok and his guard were having no trouble, but Yoongi felt winded by the time they reached the first platform.
“How many platforms are there?”
“The third is the last.”
Yoongi groaned again and trailed behind them, feet thudding on the brick harder with each step he took. He was tired and there was no way he was going to live in this palace if he got married. The Busan royal family had better have a summer palace they could live in, because this was unacceptable.
When he finally reached the entrance to the palace, everyone was waiting for him and he had to make a hasty introduction while winded. Not even five minutes later, he was alone in a room with one Jeon Jeongguk, who did not, in fact, look happy to be there. Jeongguk was tall and broad, though his waist was tiny and his hair curled around his face in a fashionable, messy way.
“W-Would you like something to drink?” Jeongguk asked.
Yoongi nodded, a small wheeze escaping him. Damn his being out of shape. Damn his hate of exercise.
“W-Water, please,” he managed to say.
Jeongguk offered him a glass. Yoongi thought it was interesting that he hadn’t made a servant get it.
“So, Jeongguk-ssi, it’s nice to meet you.”
Jeongguk nodded mutely. Yoongi wondered if the young man was upset by their meeting, since he wasn’t talking much. But, once Yoongi had gotten comfortable and caught his breath, he realized that Jeongguk was actually flustered. His cheeks were a light shade of pink and he wasn’t making eye contact.
“What do you do?” Yoongi tried asking.
“W-What?”
“You know. Do you go to school? Or maybe you have a job? Or maybe you’re just a prince? I don’t know.”
“O-Oh! I-I’m in college,” Jeongguk stuttered out. His cheeks flushed deeper in obvious embarrassment. “I have a semester left. Getting a bachelor’s in art…”
“Art? That’s really interesting. You like drawing?”
Jeongguk nodded. “I…draw my own comics in my free time.”
Jeongguk was a fan of the arts. One point. He had a hobby that wasn’t exclusive to royalty or the rich. Another point. Things weren’t looking so bad after all.
“What else do you like doing?”
“Uh…working out, I guess?”
Jeongguk sipped on water. It was the motion of him lifting his bottle to his mouth that made Yoongi realized just how muscular he was. He was tall and had an athletic build, his muscles well developed and trained. He must have spent a lot of time working out or doing strenuous activities. While it was aesthetically pleasing, if Jeongguk wanted a partner who would do those kinds of things with him, Yoongi was not the right choice.
“Oh, I see. You must like those stairs out front.”
“Yeah. I use them for my stair climbing exercises in the morning!”
Jeongguk was suddenly bright and full of energy. It was almost blinding how attractive he looked. He was cute and Yoongi felt a little bit of a spark. He certainly wouldn’t be ashamed to go out with Jeongguk as his husband.
“So, um, what are we meeting for?” he asked then.
Yoongi blinked. He was having a hard time believing Jeongguk’s family hadn’t informed him of what he was doing there and he was starting to panic.
“Oh, well, um…” Yoongi struggled with his words. “How do you feel about marriage?”
“Marriage?”
“Yeah, like, when do you envision yourself getting married and stuff?”
Jeongguk shrugged, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I don’t know. I mean, it sounds nice, but it probably won’t happen for a while. I want to go out and travel and have fun after I graduate. Focus on finishing a comic to publish, get some more golden weapons on Overwatch.”
Yoongi felt the hope fizzling out with each word that came from Jeongguk’s mouth.
“You’ve never thought about being married at a young age? Even though you’re a prince?”
Jeongguk shook his head. “My brother is going to be king, so I get to have a little more fun. Besides, I’m only twenty-two. I have time before I have to get married or think about having kids.
“So, you want kids?”
Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrowed again and he scrutinized Yoongi. “Why are you asking so many questions about marriage?”
Yoongi felt a bitterness form on his tongue at the carefreeness of the young man. He had a whole future laying ahead of him, the ability to do anything. Yoongi wondered why Daegu seemed to be the only place with a law that required second sons to be married off to men, unable to live their life or find love. It wasn’t fair.
“That’s why I’m here, but I guess I’ve already received my answer,” Yoongi said, tone much more curt than he intended but he was pissed.
“Huh?”
Yoongi stood up in a fury and started to pace. Jeongguk stayed in his seat, watching him with large, confused eyes. He looked like a baby deer and it reminded Yoongi that the prince sitting before him was still very much a child.
“Daegu has this age old tradition that any son born after the first must be married to a man so that he doesn’t produce an heir to challenge the throne. I’m the second son, so I have to marry a man within the year. All because of this stupid tradition no one had heard of before, but whatever. I had to find a suitor and you were one of my options, so I thought I would come meet you and see if you wanted to be my betrothed.”
Jeongguk became increasingly redder as Yoongi went on, and, by the time he was done, the young man had become as red as a tomato, panic clear as day on his face.
“I-I—” he stuttered out, hands flailing wildly in front of him, “I-I barely met you! How could I agree to something so quickly?”
“Imagine how I feel,” Yoongi said and dropped back into the chair he’d been using.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Jeongguk nodded, then stood up and bowed at a ninety degree angle, his hair hanging around his face. “I-I’m sorry, but I can’t agree to marry you either. I’m not ready for that.”
It was formal and polite. Jeongguk had actually used honorifics and polite form the entire time. He was a respectable young man. Yoongi felt a bit sad that he couldn’t take him home.
Yoongi reached out and patted Jeongguk’s head gently.
“It’s okay, Jeongguk-ssi. Thank you for being honest. You’ll make someone very happy someday.”
Jeongguk peeked up at him and it made Yoongi smile a bit. The boy was cute. If he couldn’t have him as a husband, he’d certainly like to keep him as a friend.
With the Busan prince being a bust, Yoongi was down to two suitors before he got desperate. Kim Seokjin was easy to get ahold of, but hard to schedule with, while Kim Namjoon was not easy to contact at all. Yoongi knew he had some time to find someone, but his parents were practically breathing down his neck to hurry up and get married. Also, if Yoongi could find someone who agreed to become his betrothed, he’d be able to spend a while getting to know them before they were married. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing.
Yoongi had scheduled to meet with Seokjin, but it wouldn’t be for a month, because he was busy with his social media empire and that apparently took up all of his time. He didn’t seem to be weirded out by Yoongi mentioning it was a possible marriage meeting, but he wasn’t going to overthink it.
Yoongi wasn’t the most low profile royalty out there, so it was likely Seokjin knew who he was. He hoped that fact wasn’t going to hinder him in finding a fiancé.
With some help from a combination of Namjoon’s publisher and his agent, he was able to obtain Namjoon’s home address in Ilsan. His agent informed Yoongi that Namjoon should be at his home working on a manuscript, so it wouldn’t be too hard to find him or get in contact with him. They also agreed to mention Yoongi to him the next time they spoke. Yoongi sent Namjoon a letter to explain he would be coming to visit and why.
A month passed and no word came. Yoongi found himself a bit frustrated. He’d been in contact with Namjoon’s agent enough that he knew his name was Wang Jackson and he was more than willing to help Yoongi get in touch with Namjoon, but nothing seemed to work.
“Maybe he hasn’t been checking his mail,” Jackson said.
He and Yoongi had begun to converse via phone call for ease. He didn’t think that was weird, or rather he hoped that wasn’t weird.
“He can be a bit irresponsible when he’s working on a manuscript. He becomes so engrossed in the work that he barely goes outside or checks his phone or e-mails or anything else. I have to go check on him a lot. He hasn’t been too bad, but maybe he’s only keeping contact with me,” Jackson said, “I’m going to meet him on Monday to take a look at his current draft, so I’ll bring it up that you’ve been trying to contact him.”
“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it. And I’m sorry to be bothering you with all of this so much.”
“Ah, it’s fine. Namjoon is a difficult person. Besides, I had no idea he was a lord! That’s such a great selling point for him, so I kind of owe you for revealing that to me.”
Yoongi laughed. “Thanks again.”
He hung up and sighed. Namjoon’s avoidance of him (or whatever it was, even though Yoongi was seventy percent sure he was being avoided) had made the process very nerve-wracking. In the month that had passed, Yoongi had gotten a few proposals from some of the available bachelors and his parents had almost accepted on his behalf multiple times, but Yoongi kept managing to intercept and convince them to let him have a chance. They had agreed that if he wasn’t betrothed by the end of the year, he would have to accept one of the offers he had been given. It made him feel desperate and scared and angry and everything in between.
He’d been so focused on trying to get in contact with Namjoon that his meeting with Seokjin had snuck up on him.
Yoongi, being the rebel that he was, decided to go meet Seokjin without anyone and at an informal event. They had planned to meet at a café in Gwacheon, one where they would have a private room. Yoongi hadn’t bothered to tell his parents or guards that he would be going out of town. He carefully packed his bags and slipped out onto the streets of Daegu with the commoners on a sunny afternoon.
His feet easily carried him to the train station and he bought a ticket to Gwacheon. By the time anyone would notice he was gone, he would be well into his near three hour train ride. Yoongi easily found his seat on the train and settled down. This was the first time he would be traveling so far from home without anyone accompanying him and he was a little excited. He just hoped it would be worth it in the end.
Sleep was an easy way to make time pass and Yoongi couldn’t resist getting a nap in. He slept for at least half of his train ride and when he awoke, he was greeted by all sorts of missed calls and messages from his family and even Hoseok. It made a smile come to his lips that his plan had been successful.
A part of Yoongi had always hated that he was constantly being watched or escorted wherever he went. He wanted to be able to go where he liked without being monitored or expected to do something, to see the world as it was. It was another wish to be normal, he realized.
He felt a tingling in his hands that he hadn’t in a long while and it made him want to play the piano. His hands would have to make do with a pen and paper as he charted out a song in the notebook he’d packed in his bag. Yoongi had packed a few overnight things in case he couldn’t make the visit with Seokjin into a day trip. It was always better to be prepared than to wing it, he thought.
When he arrived at Gwacheon, he filed off the train with the other passengers and looked around. He’d never been to this city before and it looked quite different than Daegu. There was a lot more greenery, less densely populated, not as many buildings crammed together to fit the max amount of people it could. It was a bit surprising, since Gwacheon was a suburb of Seoul, but Yoongi liked that—the city had its own character and separate identity from the metropolitan capital.
Using the GPS on his phone, Yoongi found an easy way to reach the café where he was supposed to meet Seokjin. When he arrived, he took a moment to admire the building.
It was designed to look like a house, with brick facing on the bottom floor where there was a small parking garage, the flags of Korea and Gwacheon city hung over the arch. The stairs’ guardrail was wrought iron and there was a mural painted on the wall in front of it. Yoongi climbed up them, taking in the sight of Gwacheon’s landscape as he got a higher vantage point. The second floor, which was the actual café, was cream colored and had small double paned windows with a grate on them, a very European style that seemed out of place in the middle of a Korean city. He pulled open the small door and stepped inside.
The café was bustling during lunch time. Yoongi pulled up his Instagram and clicked into his direct messages. He and Seokjin had been primarily communicating through there.
minpianist: I’m here. Where do I go?
He waited for Seokjin to respond and stood to the side so others could find a place to sit. The interior was cute, French inspired, that matched with the outside décor as well. There were a few European cafés in Daegu, but none were as impressive as this.
After five minutes, Seokjin hadn’t responded and Yoongi pulled open the message to see if he’d seen it. It said “read” which made him irritated and he felt his eyebrow twitch.
“Are you Yoongi?” someone said.
He looked up at the person who spoke to him. It was an employee of the café, so he nodded, even though he didn’t know what they wanted.
“Follow me. I can take you to the private room.”
The employee led him into the nearby hallway, where they passed the bathrooms and kitchen. In the back, there were three rooms with sliding doors, intricate traditional paintings adorning each of them.
“Seokjin-ssi is in the Crane Room.”
They left and Yoongi looked at the doors before pinpointing the one that featured a crane as the central design. He slid the door open and found a traditional style room, floor mats and a low table filled with food waiting for him. A tall, broad shouldered man stood at the window, looking out with his back to Yoongi. Seokjin was handsome even from behind and it caught Yoongi a little off guard while he removed his shoes.
He slid the door shut and cleared his throat.
Seokjin spun around, his pink tinted hair fluttering with the quick movement. If someone thought the lord and social media king was attractive on the internet, they were in for a shock in person—he was even more good looking in person, so much so that you could say photos were no comparison. It almost made Yoongi feel ugly.
“Yoongi-ssi!” Seokjin said with a wide grin.
“Hello, Seokjin-ssi.”
It felt odd to address each other by their first names, but royalty was different than the average person. Besides, Yoongi had messaged with Seokjin enough that they could probably be on a first name basis. He offered his hand to shake, but Seokjin drew him into a hug.
“It’s so good to finally meet you. Are you hungry? You came a long way, right?”
“From Daegu, yes.”
Yoongi’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything since that early morning before he snuck out of the palace. He took one of the cushions and settled at the table. Seokjin sat across from him and motioned to the spread. It was a generous amount for two people.
“I ordered all of my favorites. Help yourself.”
“Thank you.”
Yoongi picked a few things and gathered them on the small platter in front of him, then began to eat. Seokjin busied himself with his phone, scrolling and tapping away. Yoongi supposed he was attending to his empire and hence his career, but he did find it a bit rude to be doing so when someone was sitting not even five feet from him.
“So, you were sort of vague about why you wanted to meet me,” Seokjin finally said.
Yoongi swallowed the piece of tteok he had in his mouth and nodded. “I was surprised you agreed to meet me, to be honest.”
“Well, you are a prince. Meeting princes is a smart thing to do. I’m only a lord. Your status is much higher than mine. If I get seen with you, my profile goes up.”
“Why the private room then?” Yoongi asked.
Seokjin smiled at him, but almost in a sly way that made Yoongi feel tense. “I assumed whatever you wanted to talk about wasn’t a discussion to be had in public. Are you going to tell me you’re my long lost brother or something?”
Seokjin immediately started laughing and the only thing that Yoongi could compare the sound to was a windshield wiper. It was weird, but oddly charming.
“No, but it does have to do with a weird royal thing that most people wouldn’t understand.”
The other man stopped laughing and looked into Yoongi’s eyes. “Go on.”
“Well, Daegu has this ancient tradition…and my parents are expecting me to adhere to it,” he started, “And that is the law that I have to marry a man of status within the year.”
Seokjin blinked a few times, then laughed. He really let it go, squeaky laugh loud and non-stop, his arms around his middle. There were practically tears in his eyes. Yoongi waited patiently, eating his food, while Seokjin got it out of his system.
When he finally caught his breath, he looked up at him. “You’re joking, right?”
“No. I really am expected to marry someone worthy within the year.”
“But why?” Seokjin asked incredulously, his face immediately showing confusion and disbelief.
“Some ancient law that dictates any son that isn’t the first born should marry a man so he won’t produce an heir to challenge the throne.”
Yoongi could perfectly recite the reasoning without even thinking about it now. Seokjin scoffed.
“People can have affairs and bastards, though.”
“Tell me about it. I don’t know why they won’t let this go. Anyway, you’re considered worthy of me, so…that’s why I’m here.”
“Oh my god, you’re proposing?”
Seokjin laughed and waved his hand in the air, then mimicked as if Yoongi was going to put a ring on his finger. His lack of seriousness was starting to irk Yoongi, even though at some points Seokjin did seem to understand his plight.
“I’m here to see if you would be interested in courting. We court, then I propose, then you accept if you want to, and then we get married.”
Seokjin nodded and shrugged. He leaned back on his hands and leveled his gaze at Yoongi again.
“What happens if you don’t abide by these rules?”
Yoongi hadn’t thought about that. He wasn’t sure of the consequences. It was known that his parents would or could marry him off to whoever offered, but he had convinced them to wait on that. Despite that, there was still the option of him running off. If he did, in fact, disappear or disobey, what would happen to him? Would he be exiled? Imprisoned? Sentenced to death? He hadn’t even considered the possibilities. Yoongi had been so wrapped up in the shame aspect, the need to not disappoint his family, that he hadn’t thought of anything else.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
Seokjin continued. “What about challenging them legally? Moving to abolish or change the law. It sounds so medieval. I’m glad I’m not you right now.”
While he appreciated Seokjin’s advice and thoughts, his slight made Yoongi irritated. There was a sort of carefree frivolousness that Seokjin emitted which was off putting to him, at the very least. Yoongi wasn’t sure he could deal with that personality all the time if they were married.
“My parents are too set on it, but I might be able to convince my brother to change it when he is king, so it can’t happen to anyone in the future.”
“Making yourself a martyr? Great PR.”
Yoongi resisted rolling his eyes.
“Well, sell me on you,” Seokjin said, “Convince me I’m missing out.”
Yoongi didn’t want to talk about himself. It wasn’t exactly something he enjoyed. Most people wouldn’t relate to his experiences, since he was a prince. Seokjin was maybe more likely to, but at the same time, their outlooks seemed quite a bit different which could color their impressions in different ways.
He sighed softly and started to retell the story of his life—the second son of a king who loved music and cared little for politics. It felt weird, summarizing his life. It was like he was talking about someone else. Seokjin nodded along, though his eyes seemed like they were glazing over.
Yoongi knew he couldn’t sell Seokjin the idea of being married to him, because, if Yoongi was honest, he didn’t think he was anything special. And he was okay with that, had accepted it long ago, but sometimes the reminder could still be painful.
Yoongi stayed with Seokjin in the restaurant for a few hours, talking and getting to know one another. It was like a date, but without the pressure. He left knowing that it wasn’t going to work out, but he didn’t think he had wasted his time.
It was early enough to catch a train back to Daegu, but Yoongi didn’t really want to go home just yet. There was some freedom in exploring Korea that he’d been longing for and he wasn’t ready to give it up.
Yoongi’s phone buzzed in his pocket right when he arrived at the train station. He pulled it out and saw he had been tagged in a photo of Instagram.
He opened it and found that Seokjin had snuck a photo of him, the caption reading: met up with the prince of Daegu, Min Yoongi. He’s looking for a husband just fyi! Too bad I love all of you far too much~
The photo had already received fifty thousand likes in the span of three minutes. He got another notification, this time one from a tabloid. Now rumors were spreading about him like a wildfire. He couldn’t fault Seokjin for using him for publicity, but he had wished he’d given him more time.
With the need to remain free a little longer and wanting to escape the public, Yoongi ducked into the nearest subway station. He swiped into the station with his T-Money card and looked for a map to find the best route. If Kim Namjoon wouldn’t respond to him, then he would go find him.
Yoongi rode through Seoul up to Ilsan in a little over an hour. He kept his hood up, trying to lay low so that no one would recognize him and cause a scene. His parents had already been sending him messages about the media coverage, adding to the wildfire that he’d started by going off on his own. When he found a cab, he gave them Namjoon’s address and promptly shut his phone off. He was done with people for the time being. Taking the subway had made him incredibly nervous and he felt drained. Yoongi had been jealous of the people he’d seen on the train, carefree and unburdened by the thought of being royalty.
The taxi went into the countryside, even outside of the small city. The open field of wild flowers was nice to see and he was surprised when the taxi stopped in front of a hanok. He didn’t think he would see something like that in Ilsan, what with its manmade lake and purpose of solving past housing crises. But it fit in for a city which was renowned for its wild flowers and botanical gardens.
Yoongi paid the fare and got out, approaching the small gate that lined the yard. There was no name on the front placard, so he had to hope he had the right address. Not wanting to intrude, he found the bell and rang it.
The hanji lined front door slid open and a tall man in a long coat stepped out, taking the small stairs quickly. He came up the path to the gate, where he stopped to look at Yoongi. He was tall with a natural tan to his skin and handsome features. His dark hair was a bit messy, like he’d just awoken from a nap, and large glasses were perched on his nose.
“Can I help you?” he asked, voice deeper than Yoongi could have imagined.
It sent a small chill down his spine. It was rare he encountered a man with a voice nearly as deep as his own.
“I’m looking for Kim Namjoon.”
Yoongi realized this was crazy, to just show up out of the blue, unannounced. But was it unannounced? He had sent a letter saying he would come to visit a month before. It couldn’t be too much of a surprise.
“What is this in regards to?”
The man he was speaking to was on the defense and Yoongi felt a bit irritated. Was he Kim Namjoon? Was he not? Did he have the right place?
“I’m Min Yoongi. I sent him a letter a month or so ago to let him know I would be coming to visit.”
“Ah, Yoongi-ssi,” the other man said, “I remember Namjoon-ssi mentioning you.”
“So, you’re…not Namjoon-ssi?”
The man chuckled and shook his head. “No. I’m here taking care of his house while he’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yes. Namjoon-ssi left for a trip yesterday.”
Yoongi felt a bit irritated. He had announced he would be coming to visit at some point. Namjoon could have given him the courtesy to let him know he would be traveling. It reinforced the idea that the other man was avoiding him.
“I see…”
Yoongi sighed softly. He turned around and then realized his cab had already left. He turned back to the man, who hadn’t gone back inside yet.
“My phone is dead. Would I be able to use the phone to call a cab?” Yoongi lied.
“Sure.”
The man let him in. They walked through the small courtyard, which Yoongi realized was filled with plants and trees. It was a well-kept garden. He shouldn’t have been surprised since Namjoon had books published on gardening. It must have been his hobby.
“So, you’re here to take care of the plants?”
“Yes, basically.”
The man chuckled a bit as he slid open the door. He stepped up and removed his shoes, leaving them right in the entryway. Yoongi repeated the motion and stepped into the small entry room. The wood floor was a pretty color and looked well maintained. In fact, the entire house looked very modern.
“The phone is in the kitchen. Follow me.”
The man led him through a small enclosed room that seemed like a sitting room, then the open air tea room. A few bonsai trees sat on the railing, looking well kempt.
“Is this a modern hanok? It’s beautiful,” Yoongi said as they made their way to the kitchen.
He caught a glimpse of what might be an office or library before they entered the large kitchen. Despite how big it was, it seemed unused.
“Yes. Namjoon-ssi bought an abandoned one and restored it while making improvements.”
Yoongi nodded as he went to the phone. He wondered if he should call his family or the cab company like he said he would. He stared at the old landline that was attached to the wall.
“You didn’t mention your name,” Yoongi said then.
“Oh. Right.” The man chuckled again. “My name is also Namjoon, actually. But I’m not the Namjoon you’re looking for. You can call me RM. It’s less confusing that way.”
“Ahrem?”
Yoongi tried out the name, finding it odd on his tongue. It didn’t sound like a Korean name.
“Ah, no. RM. Like the English letters ‘r’ and ‘m.’”
Reorienting his mind to envision the letters, he tried pronouncing it again. “RM.”
RM nodded. “That’s me.”
“And you take care of the house?”
“Yes. I’m the caretaker of the estate when Namjoon-ssi is gone. He travels a lot for work, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
Yoongi nodded.
“Are you going to call someone?”
“R-Right!”
Yoongi quickly turned to dial. He ended up calling the palace back in Daegu and gave them the address of Namjoon’s home. He didn’t want to risk riding the train home and missing the last one, let alone getting spotted by someone and having to deal with the attention. Yoongi was starting to feel pretty puny—he had been outed on social media, upset his parents, and was being avoided by his last option for marriage.
“They’re coming from Daegu, so it’s going to take a while. I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” he said.
“Daegu? That is far.”
“Yes, well…”
Yoongi shrugged and sighed. RM stood there, the air between them awkward. He wished he could disappear. He should have just gone home after his lunch with Seokjin. Why did he think coming to Namjoon’s home was a good idea?
“Would you like some tea, Yoongi-ssi?” RM finally said.
“That sounds lovely, actually. I’ve had a pretty stressful day.”
“Sounds like you need alcohol then.”
“Yeah, but also being shit faced when they come to get me would be a cherry on top,” Yoongi said, half joking, half serious, and laughing.
RM crossed over to the stove and took the kettle. He filled it with water and put it over a flame on the stove. Yoongi stood there, unsure what to do.
“You can make yourself comfortable in the tea room.”
Yoongi headed back to the tea room and took a seat on the floor. There was a perfect balance of sunlight and shade and the evening air was clear. Faint scents of the various flowers wafted through the air. It was quiet and peaceful. Yoongi let his eyes shut while he took in the pure calm of his surroundings. He could fall asleep there.
Apparently he did doze off, because he jolted when the door slid open. He looked up to see RM bringing the tea in on a tray, two nicely made clay tea cups and the steaming pot. RM settled across from him at the table and Yoongi sat up, trying to hide his yawn behind his hand. The other man poured him tea and gently placed the cup in front of him. His movements were very careful and measured, which Yoongi found interesting. Most people weren’t so deliberate with their hands. He knew what that was like, which is probably why he was so observant of that fact.
“Thank you,” he said.
“May I ask the reason for your visit?”
Yoongi looked up from where he was blowing on the warm tea. “Ah, well, it’s kind of a private manner. Are you and Namjoon-ssi close?”
“Friendly enough. I didn’t realize you knew him?”
“I don’t. It’s just…a private matter I have to discuss with him.”
RM nodded and took a sip from his tea cup. He winced, the tea obviously having burned his tongue, and made a face. Yoongi held in his laugh. He couldn’t help finding it cute. RM wasn’t that bad to look at, if he was being honest.
“What do you do, Yoongi-ssi?” he asked then, hiding his discomfort.
“Ah, well…” Yoongi took a moment to consider his answer. “I’m attempting to become a composer right now.”
“A composer? That’s interesting. So, you enjoy music.”
“Yes. I once thought I was going to be a pianist.”
Just mentioning that fact made Yoongi’s fingers hurt and he wished he had said nothing immediately after. Being a talented pianist had once been his pride, but now he didn’t care to have it be known at all.
“Composing is still good,” RM said, not sensing Yoongi’s discomfort, “Just as valuable as the musician who plays it.”
Yoongi nodded and smiled a bit. “What about you? What do you do when you’re not housekeeping?”
“I mostly do this. Namjoon-ssi isn’t the most cleanly fellow, so he usually needs someone to tend to his abode. The only two things he cares about are his bonsai and writing.”
“Wang-ssi mentioned he had an upcoming deadline, so I’m sure he’s very preoccupied with that.”
“You spoke with Jackson?”
“Y-Yes,” Yoongi said, “I was having trouble getting in touch with Namjoon. His online presence is basically zero, but I could find his editor.”
“And he told you how to contact him?”
Yoongi nodded. “Yes.”
“Whatever you have to say to Namjoon-ssi must be important then.”
“I tried to send a letter, but he never responded. I figured he was ignoring me, but now that I’m here and you’re talking about him, I feel a bit better.”
“Why’s that?” RM asked.
“You’ve characterized him as being very focused and I know he has a deadline, so I assume he’s absorbed in his manuscript and probably didn’t check his mail or saw it but forgot to respond. He’s not avoiding me.”
RM’s features had turned into one of mild discontent and Yoongi wondered if the man thought he was a stalker or something.
“I…I have a really big favor to ask of him. I’m not a creeper or something,” he said quickly.
“That’s exactly what a creeper would say.”
Yoongi’s cheeks colored, unsure how to respond, and yet he couldn’t help laughing. His lips clamped shut in an attempt to hold it in, but he broke and started laughing. He covered his face with his hands to muffle it. When he finally regained his composure, he glanced up and saw that RM was smiling. He had dimples. If he’d thought he couldn’t get cuter, he had been wrong.
“Well, I assume that if you were an actual creeper, you would be trying to get around the house and you aren’t.”
Yoongi let out the breath he had apparently been holding.
RM asked, “So, what kind of music do you write?”
“All kinds, really. I lean towards R&B and things which can blend classical with modern. Just whatever I feel, I guess, is the answer.”
“Do you write lyrics too or just the music?”
“Both,” Yoongi said with a nod.
He nodded slowly. “Namjoon-ssi is an avid fan of music, actually. He has a huge collection in his study. I could show it to you?”
“Really?”
RM nodded and stood up. Yoongi finished his tea and then got up to follow. They went back into the house and into the study Yoongi had caught a glimpse of earlier.
The room was a bit small, but maybe it was because there were bookshelves lining three of the four walls, crammed full to the brim with books of varying sizes and shapes. There were cacti on a few shelves above the desk and the desk was crammed against the wall under the window and littered with papers.
“Pardon the mess. It’s the least tidy room in the house.”
RM moved some things, then revealed the stands which took up the corner of the room. It was filled with CDs and even records. Yoongi’s eyes widened and he got close to peruse Namjoon’s collection.
Namjoon had great taste in music. He had at least one CD or record from all of Yoongi’s favorite artists, even obscure ones that he thought no one had ever heard of. He thumbed through the collection slowly, before his hands stopped on a record of classical music, but covered by one of his favorite artists. It was a collection he’d never seen before and contained some of his favorite pieces that he’d once learned to play. He drew it out carefully and made sure to leave the spot where it belonged obvious so he could return it.
“I’ve never seen this collection before,” he said.
“It was a limited edition release. There’s only fifty copies in the whole world.”
Yoongi wondered if his eyes were glittering while he looked over the record. He wondered what it sounded like, if it was even better than he could imagine. Despite that, he couldn’t help feeling like he shouldn’t be holding it. This was one of the times that even his royal heritage meant nothing.
The doorbell rang then. Yoongi looked back at RM and the two of them just sort of stared. It hadn’t been two hours, so there was no way that Yoongi’s ride had already arrived.
“I’ll go see who that is. You can put the record on, if you’d like, but please don’t touch anything else.”
RM left the room then. Yoongi hesitated, then pulled the record from it sleeve and placed it on the record player. He dropped the pin onto its edge and switched it on. The record began to spin and the needle tracked the notes, music coming to life in mere seconds.
It was Debussy’s “Clair de Lune” but played so expertly it was like a new song all together, especially since it was accompanied by original lyrics. The song was like a , something familiar yet utterly new. It was doing something to Yoongi that he couldn’t describe and he felt his eyes brim with tears.
All of the emotions he’d been shoving down, suppressing his sorrow since he’d learned of what his role in his family was, began to bubble up and threatened to escape. His teeth curled into his lip to hold it in. This wasn’t the place to have a moment.
“Your ride is here.”
Yoongi almost jumped out of his skin and his head whipped around. He hadn’t heard RM come back and the surprise was enough to allow a yelp to fall from his lips. Tears dribbled down his cheeks and he quickly turned away, hand coming up to wipe at his eyes.
“I-I see. They got here fast,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
He walked past RM quickly, head hung low, and headed back to the entryway to get his shoes. He stooped down to pull them on.
“They’re waiting outside for you.”
“Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Yoongi slid the front door open and stepped down onto the porch. He descended the stairs and crossed the courtyard, steps slow and defeated. The car waiting outside the gate bore the Daegu flags. They probably had been trying to find him for hours, especially after Seokjin’s social media post. He should have known they would be there in an instant.
Just as he reached the gate, RM’s voice rang out, “Wait!”
Yoongi stopped and turned back. The taller man came across the yard.
“You almost forgot your bag.”
Yoongi’s eyes widened and he looked down. He had indeed forgotten the bag he’d brought with him and he felt his cheeks color in embarrassment. He didn’t even remember putting the bag down.
“Thank you. Sorry,” he said quickly while he accepted it.
RM nodded. “It was nice to meet you, Min Yoongi.”
“You too. Thank you for letting me stay a while.”
Yoongi opened the gate and stepped through. RM shut it behind him and remained there while Yoongi went to the car. The driver was waiting and opened the back door for him. Yoongi slipped inside with a sigh. When he looked back up, he saw that RM was returning to the hanok.
The car pulled away and Yoongi settled back. They had a three and a half hour drive ahead of them and Yoongi had no one to talk to. He opened his bag to find his iPod, not wanting to risk turning on his cell phone and having to deal with his parents yet. His hands stopped searching for his iPod when he realized there was something new inside.
A CD case was sitting atop his things, a little sticky note on it with a message in messy handwriting:
Namjoon-ssi made a CD rip of the record. I don’t think he will notice it’s gone –RM
Yoongi held the jewel case in his hands, then pressed it to his chest with his eyes closed for a moment. There was luck on his side, because the back of the car had a CD player in it and he was sure the driver wouldn’t hear it with the privacy divider up. He put the CD into the player and sat back.
When the first notes hit his ears, he couldn’t help crying again and they flowed until he finally fell asleep in the back.