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“Royal matchmaker this, royal matchmaker that, honestly, at this point, I just feel like glorified furniture,” Jimin says.
“Hey, you know, it could be worse,” Yoongi shrugs.
“Worse than what? This was supposed to be like, a five-month gig! It was just supposed to be ‘oh find the Prince a wife and then here’s some money’ but nooo!” Jimin says, his voice sounds angry, but Yoongi knows that he isn’t really. His official title may be ‘royal matchmaker,’ but Jimin has been his friend since he showed up to town four years ago. Four years. Wow. That’s a lot of years of Yoongi rejecting every girl to cross his path.
It’s not so much rejection as Yoongi just knows they’re not the one. How could they be? He’s sure he’ll know it when the right girl turns up, but he hasn’t met her yet. He knows it’s important, because there are deadlines to consider, but it just hasn’t seemed important enough for him to start being serious about the subject.
Yoongi has Jimin lagging behind him as they stroll through the property, Yoongi assuring both his guards and Jimin that he just wants some fresh air. He likes it out here, it’s far less stuffy than the palace, which is always a little too warm and smells old. Yoongi’s family have lived in that palace for generations, for so long that there are hundred-year-old paintings hanging up in the hallways of ancestor’s long dead who have Yoongi’s eyes.
He doesn’t have a trajectory, at least he doesn’t think he does, but he does end up somewhere very particular anyway. Yoongi always ends up in the gardens. He likes the way the flowers smell, and the way the flowers look. They’re beautifully arrayed, masterfully pieced together to show off every single color of the rainbow for at least nine months of the year. The flowers that grow in winter are more muted, but just as beautiful, and just as expertly arranged, because the garden is kept in the two most capable hands in the entire kingdom.
Yoongi bites his lip, looking at one particular bushel of flowers near to him when a familiar voice from behind him says, “those are called impatiens.”
The voice belongs to someone that Yoongi has known all his life. He turns to see him, the ever smiling, wonderful Hoseok. Yoongi has known him since they were both little kids, Hoseok’s father was a gardener to this palace long before he was born. Since childhood, Hoseok’s been his closest friend in the world, and probably the only one who doesn’t judge Yoongi for not falling in love. That’s not to say Hoseok isn’t judgmental, because he has made fun of just about everything Yoongi has ever done ever, and Yoongi has threatened to lock him up every single time he does it, but that just makes Hoseok laugh at him harder.
“Hey, Hoseok,” Yoongi smiles back at him. Hoseok’s smile is contagious, absolutely gut-punching. He’s got longer-than-average dark brown hair, and eyes the color of the earth he plants his flowers in. It's not in the job description, but Hoseok's probably the most attractive gardener in the world. “Impatience you say?”
“No, I said impatiens, not-”
Jimin interrupts him to say, “It’s not impatience, Yoongi, there’s a deadline. You’ve got until you’re twenty-one before you go to sleep for all eternity! If I don’t find the love of your life before then, we’re all fucked!”
“Why does everyone believe in that silly curse,” Yoongi groans. Truth is, Yoongi knows it’s real. Why wouldn’t it be? People have curses placed on them all the time; it’s just what life is like. A witch curses you to fall asleep when you touch a spindle and the only cure is true loves kiss? Seems pretty legit, something similar happened a few centuries ago in one Kingdom over. But he’s trying to make people worry less about him. He’s still got eight months, it could happen. Princess charming will come waltzing in through the palace doors and Yoongi will hear a chorus of bells. You know, probably.
“We all need some time away from you,” Hoseok says, sighing, “I know I can’t wait to be rid of you for a spell.”
“Exactly!” Yoongi says, “Oh, and Hoseok, you’re fired for that comment.”
“Oh, agony,” Hoseok sighs, raising his arms up in defeat as Yoongi smiles at him. He crouches back down to work on the little patch of soil that he’d been busying at before Yoongi so rudely interrupted him. He’s preparing to put in azaleas because Yoongi said he liked them last summer.
“It’s not funny, Yoongi,” Jimin says. “You’re the only heir to the throne! What do you think happens when it all goes belly up?”
“Well, I imagine you all have a little laugh and find a proper replacement,” Yoongi says with a shrug. “Perhaps Hoseok here. He knows how to grow flowers; surely, he must also know how to manage the socioeconomic divide.”
“Oh yeah, definitely,” Hoseok nods overdramatically, “Read all about it in the farmer’s almanac.”
“It’s not a joke, you two!” Jimin says, sounding aggravated, “if I don’t find you a wife, you’re basically dead. And also, I don’t get paid.”
“Oh, agony,” Yoongi and Hoseok both say.
He and Yoongi are having a staring contest. Neither of them asked if they should have a staring contest, they’ve just been doing it. He supposes that that’s not terribly abnormal for the two of them. Not the staring contest in particular, they just tend to mirror each other. Yoongi blinks first, which makes Hoseok smile a silent victory.
“Why are you smiling?” he asks, though they both know that Yoongi loves Hoseok’s smile and would never complain about it. It’s the greatest smile in the kingdom, he tells him as much constantly. Yoongi is willing to die on those words.
“You know why.”
“I don’t know at all.”
“Sure, Yoongi.”
“I didn’t even know we were having a staring contest.”
“You’re the one who mentioned it,” Hoseok says.
Yoongi scrunches up his face, “damn, I fell into my own trap.”
“Dumbass,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes.
Yoongi looks around the two of them at the grass. Hoseok had been picking flowers for the entrance hall of the palace at the time that Yoongi stole him away. As always, he’s hiding from his father. Being the future King comes with a lot of responsibilities, but sometimes Yoongi just wants to hide away with his best friend.
“What are those called, anyway?” he asks, pointing at the pink flowers in Hoseok’s hand.
“Camellia,” he responds.
“Those are my new favorite,” Yoongi declares.
“You have a new favorite every other week,” Hoseok responds. “Last week you specifically liked yellow roses.”
“Well, that’s because whichever one you pick are usually the prettiest ones.”
“Oh, how you mock me,” Hoseok says, feigning annoyance.
“Hey, that time I tried to tell you I liked dandelions you threatened to end the royal line, so I’m just trying to stay on your good side,” Yoongi laughs.
“I wish you liked any of those girls as much as you like flowers.”
“Ugh, let’s not talk about this, I get enough of it from Jimin,” Yoongi groans. He’s already met with two girls this afternoon, and he’s worried if he goes back to the palace, there will be a long line of more. He didn’t know that there were that many people in existence. There’s at least a few who have snuck in a few times and think that he doesn’t recognize them. Perhaps there are more who have snuck in that Yoongi genuinely hasn’t recognized.
“You’re running out of time,” Hoseok says.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll meet someone; we’ve still got like six months! It’ll sort itself out.”
“You need to try harder,” Hoseok scolds. “You’re not giving them enough of a chance, dumbass.”
“What am I supposed to do? I can’t fall in love with someone who’s not my one true love, that’s not exactly going to cut it, is it? The person who kisses me to wake me up has to literally be my soulmate. I’m not saying the curse is real, because that is some bullshit, but if it were real, it’s not going to go away by me wanting to fall in love. My soulmate is out there somewhere, I just have to meet her,” Yoongi says. “Oh, and by the way, for that comment, it’ll be a flogging.”
“You’re a piece of shit,” Hoseok says.
“Who the fuck would ever want to fall in love with you?” Hoseok says, incredulous. He rarely ever gets to actually witness Yoongi when Jimin’s in the midst of matchmaking, but honestly, if that’s how Yoongi acts with every girl, then it’s no surprise he doesn’t have a one true love. There’s probably no girl out there at all in the whole world who would ever fall in love with Yoongi. He’s a jackass.
“What can I say,” Yoongi shrugs.
“You’re a jackass,” Hoseok tells him, because he’s not one for holding his tongue.
“Hoseok!” Jimin says emphatically.
“I’ve called him worse than that when I’m not annoyed with him,” Hoseok says with a shrug.
“Still,” Jimin says. “Be easy on him, it’s not some small task, all of this meeting and greeting and trying to establish a connection with so little time to do it.” Hoseok is low key not sure what Jimin actually does. He used to know what Jimin did. Back in the day, four and a half years ago, Jimin used to pair Yoongi up with girls who fit a certain mold. He screened the girls before they made it to the ultimate rejection that Yoongi gave them. These days, literally any girl above a certain age is allowed to “try out.” Nowadays, it seems like all Jimin does is watch and make sure that Yoongi isn’t purposefully rude or shitty to them.
In all fairness, Yoongi isn’t actually mean to the girls. He just isn’t very opening, not the way he is with Hoseok at least. He can say or do anything he likes to Hoseok, and they’ll roll the joke around for a few weeks like it's nothing. He can’t fathom why none of these girls know how to establish a connection with Yoongi, when he’s so pathetically easy to understand, or maybe that’s just how Hoseok views him. He’s very simple. He’s also stupid as shit, and Hoseok tells him as such.
“You’re stupid as shit.”
“I don’t see you falling in love with anyone!” Yoongi says.
“That’s because I’m not going to go to sleep for all of eternity in less than a month!” Hoseok bites back at him.
“You two have a dichotomy I’ll never understand. If only there was a girl in this world who was as dumb as the two of you, maybe I could get Yoongi to fall in love with her,” Jimin says, almost to himself.
“Fuck you,” Yoongi says. Jimin is a very good friend of Yoongi’s, honestly and genuinely, but literally no one in the entire kingdom lets a "fuck you" from the Prince roll of their back besides Hoseok. Jimin knows it’s a joke, but he’s still a little shaken by it.
Hoseok narrows his eyes indignantly at Yoongi, “I bet whoever your soulmate is she is as ugly as you are, and twice as annoying.”
“That’s a hanging for you,” Yoongi says.
Hoseok makes a very loud, aggravated sound and storms out of the room. He’s not sure why he’s angry. He didn’t used to get angry at Yoongi for turning girls down. He used to let it be a joke. Because that’s all it was when they were both sixteen and this matchmaking all started out. He laughed off the idea of his best friend in the world, the boy he knew since before he had the mental fortitude to understand what royalty was, falling in love. Now he’s becoming increasingly distressed. If Yoongi doesn’t find her in less than thirty days, he’s done for. The stupid motherfucker, he’s most definitely met her and rejected her already, because he’s too dumb for this world.
But god, if Yoongi goes to sleep forever, Hoseok’s life will screech to a halt. He’ll just stop caring about everything. Yoongi is his best goddamn friend in the world, and without him, not even his flowers will be enough color to populate the darkness that will fill him.
“What do you think is going to happen tonight?” Hoseok asks. It’s fully starting to sink in now that he’s going to wake up tomorrow and Yoongi won’t. Tonight is the night of “the big sleep,” as Yoongi has dubbed it. Yoongi is literally the only person in the entire kingdom not taking it seriously. He can’t honestly believe that the curse was fake, can he? An evil witch doesn’t show up on your doorstep to curse you to fall asleep when you touch a spindle just as a party trick. That’s clearly a curse. Yoongi is going to as good as die tonight, because the obstinate little shit couldn’t fall in love with the twenty-one years he was given to do it in. Just meet one girl and love her. That’s all he had to do.
“I’m going to take a nap,” Yoongi says, laughing. Hoseok pushes him in the shoulder, angrily, because he is angry. Yoongi is not taking this seriously. For him, he’s just going to be asleep, he won’t know how bad it gets, but for everyone else around him… that’s the end. He’s going to be gone, for just about forever. Maybe he will still be alive, breathing, sleeping, but he’ll be dead to everyone else. All because Yoongi couldn’t find his one true love who will kiss him and bring him back to life.
“That’s not funny!”
“You used to think it was,” Yoongi says.
“That was before it was, like, real,” Hoseok says. He should feel guilty, he supposes. He knew this was coming, but he kind of just assumed that everything would sort itself out. Yoongi is the most charming, wonderful, beautiful person in the entire world. How is it possible that any girl could help falling in love with him? He knows he’s said and thought the contrary about the Prince, but he never really meant it. Clearly, it’s Yoongi’s fault. Every girl is ready and willing to bring him back to life, but Yoongi’s picky. He needs to find his one true love, and even though it seems as though every eligible woman in this kingdom – and all the girls from here to three kingdoms over – have tried to offer themselves to him, he somehow hasn’t found "the one." Hoseok suspects that he probably has found the one, but he joked her away.
“It’s always been real, Seok,” he says, and for the first time probably in either of their lives, Yoongi is looking directly into Hoseok’s eyes with the solemn understanding of what is going to happen. Yes, Yoongi is going to ‘die’ tonight. Yes, his best friend in the entire world is going to have to look at Yoongi’s lifeless, sleeping body for the rest of his own natural life, unless a miracle strikes and Jimin is able to matchmake him while he’s unconscious. Yes, Hoseok will be heartbroken, and the reputation that Yoongi has bestowed upon him for having the brightest smile in the kingdom will be lost as soon as Yoongi’s eyes close.
“I hate you,” Hoseok says shaking his head. He wants to hug Yoongi, but he knows that it’s not seemly for the help to be so informal with royalty. Everyone in the palace knows that Hoseok and Yoongi are as close as two friends can possibly be, but that doesn’t change Hoseok’s status. Usually, he would disregard that rule, but everyone is on high alert because of the curse, which isn’t actually supposed to take effect until midnight tonight. Only a few more hours left with his best friend in the whole world.
At the very beginning of the desperate search for a match, Jimin had been ordered to only set Yoongi up with royals and girls from various noble families. When it was clear that wasn’t turning anything up, they started allowing anyone to vie for his hand. Now, they’ve reached a standstill. New women showing up by the hour with a prayer and a hope that they could be the long-lost Princess of Yoongi’s dreams. None of them have been.
“No you don’t,” Yoongi says, his smile doesn’t quite reach the sadness in his eyes. Hoseok realizes that Yoongi might have been joking about the curse all this time as a defense mechanism. He knows what’s going to happen. He’s always known. The only way to live with the fear of it has been to pretend he doesn’t care, but he does care. He’s absolutely terrified.
“I’m never going to forgive you for going to sleep.”
“Yeah, alright.”
Hoseok just crosses his arms and shakes his head. He glares out the window. It’s starting to become warm again, he’s gearing up to start fostering the spring flowers. Yoongi always says that he likes the bright, colorful ones, but Hoseok knows that the winter ones mean a little something more to him. The winter Jasmine in his room now is a welcome cut of white and yellow into the sullen darkness that his bedroom becomes when the moon rises earlier in the sky for months on end.
For spring this year, Hoseok has decided to grow a few different colors of lilies along with Yoongi's classic favorites. He can't wait until they bring warmth into Yoongi's room. The room might need it since Yoongi won't be awake to warm the room himself.
“You’re going to take care of things around here, aren’t you?” Yoongi asks, and Hoseok looks almost offended by him saying that. “Not just the flowers. You’ve got to keep that big smile of yours. My father adores you; you know. He might be all chivalrous and try to hide it because of his, I don’t know, pretense of masculinity in being King, but like, he’s always liked you. You were my best friend even as a kid. He’s going to need you to help him get by.”
“I hate all of this. I won’t let you fall asleep. You can’t prick your finger if I chop off both of your hands.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
No one is entirely sure where the spindle had even come from. There had been four guards on the door, four at the windows, two stood inside Yoongi’s bedroom, and just about every member of the kingdom standing guard outside the palace doors in support of their beloved Prince. There had not been a spindle in that room an hour before midnight, but once midnight struck, there it was.
Hoseok knows it’s the curse, he knows it’s not Yoongi’s fault, but that’s not going to stop him from blaming Yoongi for touching that goddamn spindle anyway. All he had to do was keep his hands to himself, but he couldn’t do that. The idiot.
The knight’s scream could be heard maybe not just through the entire palace, but perhaps through the entire kingdom. Hoseok had already been banished to the entrance hall when that scream pierced, and then the shouting, the running, the crying. He hadn’t been scared, sad, in disbelief, angry, or anything at all really. He had just been numb. He knew what had happened. He didn’t know what he was supposed to feel.
That was six months ago.
It didn't rain this summer and it hasn’t snowed yet this winter, and the people of the kingdom believe it never will until Yoongi wakes up. The air and sky have been entirely dry for too long. Some of the officials are saying that if they don’t receive some sort of precipitation in the next few weeks, they’ll be looking at a full-fledged drought come spring. Maybe it’s what a kingdom without Yoongi deserves. A land without water is a land not worth living in, just as a land without Yoongi bares no real purpose either.
Hoseok watches, waits, sitting on the steps of the front entrance to the palace, watching a girl that has surely already tried to throw Yoongi her love, as she walks up the stairs to try her luck again. Every girl who had once bid themselves away to be loved by Yoongi has now returned to place one kiss on the cheek of the sleeping Prince. Hoseok runs the little bouquet of sweet alyssum through his fingers, thinking about how Yoongi would stop to smell them before asking Hoseok to cover his room with the stuff. Yoongi always loved Hoseok’s flowers more than anyone else. He doesn’t even think anyone would have noticed they still had a gardener if it weren’t for Yoongi insisting that every room hold a testament to Hoseok’s hard work.
Jimin guides the girl in with a gentle nod of his head. He’s still hoping that one of these girls will be the one, which is stupid, because Hoseok knows that she’s never coming. Yoongi would have noticed her, surely. He’s the smartest man Hoseok’s ever known, of course Yoongi would know her when he saw her.
Any minute now, that girl will come rushing back out the palace steps crying because it’s not her; she isn’t the Prince’s one true love. How important does she think she is to think she could ever be good enough for his Prince?
It’s dreadful to say that Hoseok’s given up, but he has. He knows Yoongi too well to think that a girl he’s never met could ever be his one true love. Maybe one of these girls really was meant to be for him, but a kiss wouldn’t work if Yoongi didn’t know he loved her first. That’s the kind of person he was.
Was.
Yoongi is now a was. He’s no longer an is. He’s a was.
Pretty soon, they’re going to stop allowing Hoseok to tend the garden. If water becomes scarce, they won’t have any to waste on some measly flowers. He’s not going to let that happen. Hoseok will trek to the nearest lake, river, or ocean every single day without sleep in order to get the water to grow Yoongi’s favorite flowers. Because, what if, by some unimageable miracle, Yoongi wakes up and there are no flowers to greet him?
Hoseok stays seated on these steps, watching his breath form a white cloud every time he exhales, but he doesn’t feel the cold. He doesn’t feel much of anything. Maybe he never will again.
She comes running out of the steps only a few minutes later, with her hands to her eyes, as soft sobs run through her, sobs that don’t even rip out of her like they should, like the ones that put Hoseok to sleep every night. Her tears are vapid. She’s not the one. That’s not why you should be crying for Yoongi. Cry because he is the most amazing man in all the kingdoms, and cry because he can’t ever wake up.
He’s just received the news. As much as the King would like for Hoseok to stay on at the palace, it would simply be irresponsible for a kingdom in drought to waste so much water on the flowers. Hoseok has known it was coming. He refuses to accept it, though. He puts the pink azaleas into the vase beside Yoongi’s bed, worrying that these are the last offering he’ll be able to give to Yoongi. He’s going to find a way to keep the flowers growing. At least enough to keep filling the room. He hopes.
Hoseok knows it’s unrealistic. He’ll be in a lot of trouble if he starts literally draining a precious resource. But it breaks his heart in two to think about the sadness that would be in Yoongi’s face were the flowers to stop growing.
It’s been almost exactly one year since he went to sleep. What should have been winter has come and gone. It was blisteringly cold, but there was no snow. Instead, everything had frozen up, the entire kingdom a dry, helpless place. Few girls were able to trek their way to the palace to offer up their love to the Prince, but it’s not like it would matter.
Hoseok sighs, and sits himself on the bed right next to Yoongi. His sleeping face is devastatingly handsome, but more than that, it’s just devastating. Hoseok has not been as frequent a visitor to his room as one would expect, because he’s been far too sad to see him. He only comes in to change out the flowers once they begin to fray and wilt.
It’s a Sunday, so they aren’t taking visitors, which means Yoongi will be all by himself until tomorrow when he’s sure more girls who think they’re the one find out that they’ve been kidding themselves.
Hoseok looks at his soft face. Yoongi is so pale; he hasn’t seen the sun in a year. He doesn’t look any thinner than he did when he went to sleep, so that might be part of the magic. His cheeks don’t have any color to them, but you can sit and watch his chest rise and fall. Hoseok puts a hand on his chest just to feel it. He needs to know Yoongi is still breathing, even if it doesn’t really matter anyhow.
His skin isn’t warm, in fact, even through his shirt, Hoseok can feel that he’s cold. The only indicator that this man is still alive is the feel of his chest, which Hoseok savors.
Why is it better that he’s alive, never to be awoken than it would be if he were dead? Is that what that old crone had wanted to do in the first place when she cursed him? She wanted the entire kingdom to have hope, because hope keeps you thinking something good might happen. But really, that witch never intended for this story to have a happy ending. Maybe Yoongi doesn’t actually have a true love at all. Maybe that’s the game. That Yoongi is unlovable. She gave everyone a hope that the curse could be broken as long as he finds his true love, but she doesn’t exist.
Hoseok had thought that the tears were behind him, but he catches a loud harsh sob in his throat, which physically pains him. He puts his head into his hands and leans away from Yoongi so that he can cry into them. And he cries and cries and cries. For an hour, maybe two, Hoseok just cries next to Yoongi. Every few minutes, there will be a minute of pause where he stops, thinks that they’ve subsided, but then, the tears come back even harder. He can’t afford to waste his tears because they tend to dehydrate him, and that’s the worst thing to happen in a drought. But he just can’t help himself.
“This is all your fucking fault, you piece of shit,” Hoseok says to Yoongi, turning to again look at his stupidly attractive face. No one has the right to look that beautiful, least of all not a man who’s as good as dead.
“You couldn’t just fall in love and be happy. No, you had to be a picky son of a bitch.” Hoseok prods at his shoulder, like he would if he were waiting for Yoongi to respond to him, which he doesn’t do.
“You’re still picky. Girls are traipsing through here every damn day, and you just sit there like a pathetic little fucker. They come in here and they kiss you, and you just lie there, because you’re stupid,” Hoseok tells him. He puts his hand in Yoongi’s hair, he doesn’t know why, he just wants to. His hair is still soft, as if he had washed it just yesterday. He doesn’t have any real bodily functions, doesn’t need to eat or piss, so he’s literally as perfect as the day he went to bed, his twenty-first birthday. “They kiss your stupid fucking face, when they’re not in love with you, while the people who really do love you have to just look at you all the time and know you’re never coming back.”
Why won’t Yoongi listen to him? Why won’t he wake up so that he can threaten to put Hoseok in the stocks? Why doesn’t Yoongi wake up to tell him to smile like he always used to? Why doesn’t Yoongi just wake up?
No one has called him Seok in a year. No one has told Hoseok how pretty his flowers are, or at least, no one has meant it the way Yoongi always did. No one has even really made a joke in Hoseok’s direction at all. No one in the kingdom jokes, smiles, or laughs anymore, not with Yoongi in this state, but especially not Hoseok. It’s very clear that Hoseok has taken it worse than anyone else. Not even Yoongi’s own father, the King, has a comprehension of the pain Hoseok feels when he looks upon his best friend.
“Fuck you, Yoongi. You know that I care about you, don’t you, dumbass? I care about you more than anyone in the world does. More than Jimin, more than your dad, more than literally anyone. Why don’t you wake up for me?” Hoseok says, and maybe just to prove a point he kisses Yoongi’s cheek like all those girls have done. “Wake up for me, you stupid fucking shit.”
Hoseok starts crying again, practically draping himself over Yoongi’s body as he cries right against his chest, wishing that Yoongi’s warmth could seep into him and make him feel a little less alone.
…his warmth?
“It’s going to be the gallows for that sort of language.” The voice is very soft and croaky, from months and months of disuse. Hoseok’s crying halts, almost like someone has strangled him. He lifts himself up, hair in his own face, so he has to brush it aside so that he can meet those big brown eyes.
“Yoongi?” Hoseok’s voice sounds so soft that he’s not sure if it's even audible.
“You’re my one true love, aren’t you, Seok?” Yoongi asks, looking very soft and sleepy. He barely even looks awake, which isn’t fair considering how much sleep he fucking got.
“I absolutely fucking am not,” Hoseok says, something like repulsion in his voice.
Yoongi uses a very sleepy hand to pull Hoseok’s face to his and this time, though Hoseok could not tell you at all how it comes to be so, his lips meet Yoongi’s own lips. Hoseok’s never kissed anyone before, so he supposes it’s possible that all kisses feel as perfect as this one, but he thinks it’s pretty unlikely.
“Oh yeah,” Yoongi says when his smiling breaks the kiss, “I think you fucking are.”
“I am not,” Hoseok says, being the one to kiss Yoongi this time. He doesn’t know what emotions he’s feeling right now. He’s feeling a lot of them. All of the emotions. Every last one. Rage, passion, sorrow, pride, happiness. Everything.
“Those flowers are very pretty,” Yoongi says.
“Fuck you,” Hoseok responds. Yoongi has sat up in bed, when did that happen? Neither of them knows. Hoseok is still kissing him; Yoongi is kissing him back. Softly, then angrily, because Hoseok is furious with this piece of shit who had the nerve to go and fall in love with him. This absolute motherfucker, who would dare be Hoseok’s one true love. Of course he’s not going to fall in love with a girl, they should’ve both realized no one else but him could be the one. Why didn't this stupid dipshit realize that they were made for each other before he went to sleep? If he had, Hoseok would have been saved from a lot of sadness and turmoil. Absolute piss for brains.
A voice comes screaming down the halls, a voice that belongs to Jimin. “It’s raining, Hoseok, fuck, ow, stubbed my toe. Hoseok, it’s raining, it’s actually raining!” There’s a lot of thudding before the door is whacked open by an overly excited Jimin who’s here to tell Hoseok what will probably the only good news for the rest of their shared lifetimes.
Yoongi and Hoseok only pull away because they can sense something important is happening, though neither of them have a clue what Jimin had just been screaming about, or why it could ever be important in comparison to them kissing each other.
“What the fuck?” Jimin says, as he’s stood in the doorway looking at a very much conscious Prince.
“Have I missed much?” Yoongi smiles widely, and god, it’s that look, those pretty teeth bared, on that pretty face that finally allows what Yoongi has dubbed the brightest smile in the entire kingdom to return to Hoseok’s face.