Archive of Our Own

His alarm woke him up at 6.30, just like every morning. A bleary-eyed Jeongguk yawned, stretching his arms above his soft, wavy brown hair. He blinked his lovely doe eyes open, taking in the soft golden hues that the morning sunbeams bathed his cosy room with. The sky was pristine, no clouds in sight; the sun was shining, the little blue birds perched on his windowsill were singing–

"Shut the fuck up!" Jeongguk threw his pillow against the window, making the poor birds fly away in a frenzy. "Goddamn birds", he groaned.

Jeongguk went to the bathroom and took a quick, cold shower, before putting on a black hoodie and a pair of worn-out black sweats. There was a hole somewhere near the end of one leg, and his brothers had jokingly called him a hobo once, but Jeongguk liked his good old clothes, thank you very much.

He trudged to the kitchen downstairs, immediately grabbing a bottle of milk from the fridge and some flour from the pantry. The kitchen had a door leading to the courtyard where were the henhouse and the stables. Their horses were still sleeping. Jeongguk entered the henhouse with a grunt, nudging a brown hen to catch a couple of eggs. The gallinaceous bird hooted at him reproachfully, rudely awakened from its slumber, but the teen barely glanced at it.

"What? I need some eggs. You'll make some others, come on."

He retreated to the house with the eggs and started to make pancake batter. When he was done, he put the bowl in a corner and grabbed a bottle of water. He poured some in the coffee machine, then in the kettle, before looking around for the trays and the cups. He grabbed the bowl of pancake batter and a pan. When the pancakes were halfway done, he put three slices of bread in the toaster, humming a little tune. Cooking had always calmed Jeongguk. He actually liked to prepare breakfast in the morning. He took three plates from the cupboards, put a few pancakes and a toast on each one of them. He then pulled out six ramekins, filling three with honey and three with strawberry jam, and put them on the trays. He made a cup of coffee and two cups of tea, disposed everything on the trays, and balanced all of that on his arms. Jeongguk could have easily taken one of them at a time, but he was feeling kind of lazy — or rather, he didn't want to waste time on such futilities when he had so much to do during the day. With that mindset, Jeongguk climbed the stairs to the second floor, and nearly toppled over when a fluffy and sleepy ball of fur collided with his ankle.

"Yeontan!" he chastised. "Don't fucking do that, oh my god! That dog is so stupid… Do you want both of us to get scalded?"

He hurriedly placed one of the two trays with a cup of tea in front of his oldest brother's room and scooted the tiny Pomeranian with his now free hand. The pet growled and yelped, trying to get away, but Jeongguk's hand was big, and the pup was small.

"Stop moving around, you idiot! I'm doing the two of us a service here."

They arrived in front of his other brother's bedroom, and the door suddenly opened on a yawning Taehyung, startling the boy and the pet.

"Gukkie…?" Taehyung's voice, low and rough from sleep, called out. The older boy was still half-asleep. "What's up? It's like, seven in the morning…"

"Here, your dog." Jeongguk held up Yeontan in front of Taehyung's face and the pup yapped, lapping at his master's face happily.

"Yeon— What are you doing with Yeontan?"

"He nearly made me fall down the stairs, so I had to pick him up. Can't you keep your dog in your room or something?"

"Gukk, we already talked about this... I'm sorry, I'll try to keep him in his small house next time, okay? That still doesn't explain why you're awake at seven in the morning—"

"I almost forgot", the youngest cut him off. "Here. Breakfast."

Jeongguk nearly shoved the tray in Taehyung's chest and scurried to the master bedroom. He heard the older sigh, but the boy retreated to his room with his tray and his pet. Jeongguk knocked softly, and waited for the muffled "Come in!" to open the door.

Seokjin was, unsurprisingly, sitting in front of his fancy dark oaken desk, focused on his computer. The man was a renowned novelist whose beauty and charisma equalled his talent. He would sometimes spend his nights writing because he tended to be a night owl, and because "inspiration comes and goes", as he said. That only added to his charms, and Jeongguk could understand why his late mother had fallen for the man — not that he was going to admit it out loud to anyone, though. His step-father ruffled his brown hair, adjusted his spectacles, and looked at him.

"Oh, Jeongguk. Come in."

The boy entered and swiftly pushed aside some papers on the desk before placing his last tray on the free spot he'd just created.

"Jeongguk", Seokjin sighed, a small smile on his face. "I told you countless times, but you don't have to bring us breakfast in the mornings. Especially at such", he glanced at his expensive yet delicately crafted watch, "early hours on the weekend. I bet your brothers are still asleep."

"I don't mind", the teen shrugged. "Keeps me busy, like a routine, you know. And Taehyung was actually awake, I just brought him his own breakfast. Jimin, though—"

A shriek coming from out of the room suddenly interrupted their conversation.

"Jeongguk!" Jimin's voice resonated through the corridor. "I told you many times not to put your trays in front of the door! I nearly burnt my foot, what the fuck?!"

"Well, he's definitely awake", Jin grimaced. Jeongguk shrugged once again.

"If you don't need me for anything today, I was planning to do laundry and change all the bedsheets. Then, if I have time before dinner, I want to mop all the ground floor."

"Jeongguk", Seokjin tutted. "Just relax, will you? We're all very capable of doing our own laundry in this house. Besides, it's Saturday."

"Exactly, it's Saturday. Meaning, I have plenty of time to do some house chores."

"Well", the man sighed. "As long as it makes you happy, I guess… I'll cook lunch today, then, and that's final."

"But—" the teen scowled.

"No buts, Jeon Jeongguk. I am still the master of this house."

"Fine." The boy offered his step-dad a very detailed eye roll before stomping out of the room.

Jeongguk went back downstairs and scarfed down his breakfast — the remaining pancakes, some toasts, and a cup of tea. He put some dog food and water in Yeontan's bowl and went out in the courtyard where he fed the hens and chickens, and the horses.

(On a side note, courtesy of Jeon Jeongguk, chickens and horses eat different kinds of food, and not some weird rendition of corn kernels. Whoever was feeding that to the poor animals was probably some young, white, blonde chick, from some children’s cartoon, with eyes as big as her incompetence.)

Jeongguk petted the horses' manes, thinking about maybe mounting one of them later. They hadn't gone out for a walk in a while. Then, he spent at least one hour doing some stretching exercises and went back inside to take another shower.

At 10am, Jeongguk barged into Jimin's room — but not after knocking twice because he was a polite fella, mind you.

"Yah, Jeongguk!" the eldest son of the house scowled from his bed. He put the manga he was reading on his lap. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"I did", the younger retorted.

"Well, you could have waited for an answer then! What if I was, I don't know, jacking off?"

"I know when you're jacking off, Jimin, because you always make these whiny noises—"

"I don't—"

"—and because you would never jack off in broad daylight, when everyone's awake. You're the vanilla twin, surprisingly, and Taehyung's the freaky twin."

"I'm not vanilla!" Jimin's cheeks flushed a cute, deep shade of red. "Anyway", he cleared his throat, eyes trailed on the carpet, "what do you want? You didn't come to me to talk about sex, I assume?"

"Nope, I need you to get out."

"To— What?"

"To get out of the room, Jimin. I need to clean."

"You— You don't need to clean?? I vacuumed my room two days ago??"

"Yeah well, you always leave specs of dust in the corners. Plus, today's laundry day, and I'm changing all the bedsheets. I need you to move from your bed so I can take your sheets. Please."

"Jeongguk", Jimin frowned, now standing in front of his youngest brother. "I'm sure Dad already told you earlier, but you don't have to do all the house chores by yourself. Tae and I are perfectly capable of cleaning our own rooms and other parts of the house, changing our bedsheets, ironing our clothes, whatever."

"Yeah, sure", Jeongguk scoffed. "I let Taehyung tidy up the library the other day because he insisted on doing so, and there was still dust on the top bookshelves when I checked them later."

"Oh my god, please. No one inspects the top bookshelves, Gukk."

"Well, I do!"

"Well, you're a neat freak!"

"I'm not!"

"You are!"

"Kids, what's going on there?" Jin's head peaked through the doorway, his spectacles sliding down a bit on his nose.

"He wants to drag me out of my room!"

"He called me a neat freak!"

"Guys, what are you, five?" Jin sighed. "Jimin, you're the older one. Compromise."

"But Dad, I—"

"Jimin. Let Jeongguk change the sheets if it makes him happy."

"Ha!" the teen almost stuck his tongue out to Jimin.

"And you", Jin arched one of his perfect eyebrows at him, "I'm letting you change the sheets and do the laundry, but one of your brothers will do it next time. And if you're doing laundry now, then you're not mopping the floor this afternoon."

"But Jin—"

"You're not mopping the floor this afternoon and that's final, Jeongguk. Jesus, never would I have thought that I'd get to live in a household where I have to actually fight my children to not do house chores."

Seokjin left the boys with a shake of his head. Jimin and Jeongguk stared at each other, arms crossed, like two petulant toddlers.

"Fine", Jimin eventually conceded. "You can take my sheets."

"Gee thanks", the taller boy deadpanned. "Now, if you could move?"

"Do you want some help?"

"No, I don't. I can do laundry by myself."

"No need to be so rude all the time. Well then, I'll be with Tae in the living room if you need anything. Come play with us when you're done."

"Maybe. Oh, make sure to take Yeontan with you, I almost locked him in the laundry room last time."

"For real? Don't ever tell Taehyung, he'd kill you."

Jeongguk actually joined his brothers after he put the bedsheets in the washing machine and put a new set of sheets on each bed. But only because the twins were playing Super Smash Bros and Jeongguk's competitive streak got the best of him, mind you. He won every brawl, very anticlimactically, then left his whiny brothers — were they really two years older than him? — to go hang up the washed bedsheets. The sun dried them all in no time, and the boy spent the rest of the afternoon ironing. Then it was time to make dinner, and Jeongguk took advantage of the fact that Seokjin was writing in his bedroom to make some soup and heat up the remnants of their lunch.

So he didn't, in fact, mop the ground floor that afternoon.

But fear not, dear reader! He did so two days later.

— 🧺 —

It wasn't a secret that Jeongguk's family belonged to the wealthier side of the spectrum. His father, the late and regretted Jeon Sejin, was a retired taekwondo champion who had won many tournaments in his golden years, if the medals and cups in the study were any indicators of his merits. Sejin had earned enough through countless competitions to make a comfortable living for him and his family, for the rest of his days. Unfortunately, these got abruptly shortened by his untimely passing — the culprit, a heart attack. Former athlete Jeon Sejin thereby passed away, leaving behind a young gorgeous widow and their five-year-old Jeongguk.

Jeongguk's mother, Jeon Jihyeon, was a famous dancer. Years of ballet had shaped her body to be graceful and her demeanour to be regal. After her beloved husband's death, she had retired to fully dedicate herself to her son.

A few years later, she had met rising novelist Kim Seokjin through a common acquaintance, and it had been love at first sight, again. The man himself had suffered the loss of his wife, taken by a chronic disease, leaving him with a set of adorable twins two years older than Jeongguk. Jeon Jihyeon and Kim Seokjin had bonded over the loss of loved ones, which had sealed the budding flower of their mutual attraction. The two adults had had the presence of mind to take things slow, to accustom the children to all the changes their idyll would entail. Seokjin and his boys moved into the Jeons' manor two years after getting to know each other, and the wedding took place a year later. Jeongguk was twelve at the time, and he still remembered that day clearly. He remembered his mother's face, illuminated by genuine happiness. He remembered the adoration and the fondness held in Seokjin's gaze whenever the man trailed his eyes on her. He remembered laughing and dancing with his step-brothers, the older boys holding one of his hands each.

Oh, halcyon days.

Jeongguk's mother passed away in a train accident two years later, leaving her son with a step-father and two step-brothers, and a considerable fortune to his name — his father's and his mother's. Kim Seokjin, now his tutor and legal guardian, was a wise and sensible man. Although his position over Jeongguk granted him complete access to the boy's inheritance until his majority, the novelist had a wealth of his own that he'd earned fairly through hard work and recognition, and which he deemed more than enough to provide for his three sons and himself. It was actually enough to maintain the Jeon, now Kim, property, and their comfortable way of life.

The Jeon family tragedy was known in the higher spheres, and Kim Seokjin's indisputable talent for writing had contributed to keeping their family in a certain social circle. Which is undoubtedly why The Invitation™ came to their doorstep the following Monday afternoon.

— ✉️ —

It was a peaceful, sunny Monday afternoon. Jin and the boys were in the library on the first floor. The novelist was seated at the grand piano, surrounded by the others, and they were all singing, as heavens had blessed their household with melodious and harmonious voices. Taehyung's deep and velvety voice paired very well with Jimin's soulful, higher one, and Jin's occasional falsetto added to Jeongguk's…

Wait, nevermind, Jeongguk wasn't with them in the library.

No, Jeongguk was currently happily mopping the ground floor, as he had intended to do two days ago. His brothers had begged him to join them, but the youngest had nearly thrown a tantrum until Seokjin had sighed and allowed him to mop the floor if it pleased him. And Jeongguk was, actually, very pleased to mop the floor. He was ecstatic, even. There was nothing better than house chores to take his mind off things. Not that he had a lot of things to think about, because Jeongguk was a down-to-earth, practical man. He had no time to wonder about life, and what-ifs and whatnots. Plus, he was currently busy mopping the floor in intricate patterns while singing his favourite Big Bang songs.

He was done with the living room and halfway through their hallway when the doorbell rang, interrupting his chorus mid-sentence. Yeontan, who had been sleeping in a corner of Taehyung's bedroom, immediately jumped down the stairs, barking as loud as he could, and hurtled towards the bucket of dirty water Jeongguk had placed at the bottom of the stairs. The collision seemed to happen in slow-motion. The little puppy all but barrelled inside the bucket with a yelp, rolling a few times with the recipient and spilling grimy water everywhere. The bucket and the animal ended up at Jeongguk's feet, the Pomeranian letting out a pitiful whine. The teen scooted the tiny dog up from the now-empty bucket, glaring at the mess but still checking that the pet was fine. He was about to yell at Taehyung to come to fetch his damn dog, because he was apparently incapable of looking after it, when the doorbell rang again, insistently. Jeongguk placed his mop against the cabinet near the doorway, then opened the front door with a scowl on his face and a dripping Yeontan still in hand.

"Yes?"

"Good afternoon, Sir", a middle-aged man in a navy blue suit nodded. His gaze trailed down on Jeongguk's figure — he was once again wearing sweatpants, and a plain white t-shirt currently dirty and wet, courtesy of Yeontan — before taking in the wet puppy in his hand, and finally, he locked eyes with the boy. The latter stared for a while before understanding the man was waiting for an answer.

"Yes, good afternoon to you, too. Sir."

"I came to deliver a letter to Mister Kim Seokjin and his family."

"Okay...? We have a letterbox, though?"

"Oh, I don't doubt you have, but I was requested to personally deliver these invitations."

"Invitations?"

"Yes", the man tried and failed to contain a small sigh of irritation. "So, would you mind taking this letter and making sure Mister Kim Seokjin receives it?"

"Uh, sure. But he's upstairs though, I can call him if you really want to give it to him by hand?"

"That won't be necessary. I have places to be, and I'm sure you will be able to complete the task I have just entrusted you with. Have a good day, Sir."

The man turned around after one last nod, leaving a bewildered Jeongguk and a soaked Yeontan in the doorway.

"A task? Entrusted? What the fuck?"

"Jeongguk?" Seokjin's voice called from the library. "Everything okay? Who was it?"

"A weirdo."

The teen shook his head, shutting the door and climbing upstairs. Three pairs of curious eyes were waiting for him when he entered the library. Jeongguk walked to Taehyung, dropping the puppy against his chest.

"What— Gukkie, why's Tannie all soaked and dirty?"

"I wonder", he deadpanned. "Your pet thought it was a brilliant idea to barrel into my bucket of water while I was mopping the hallway. Now I have to clean this whole mess. I told you to look after your dog, he's a living hazard!"

"He's not a living hazard!" the older protested, pressing the Pomeranian closer to his chest in a protective gesture. "He's still young so he has a lot of energy!"

"Yeah well, I'd like it if he could spend his energy somewhere else other than my water bucket, my bedroom, or the laundry room."

"The laundry room? Why the laundry room?"

"Here", Jeongguk turned to Jin, ignoring his brother's question. "Some weird guy in a suit came in, talked about invitations he had to give personally, and entrusted me with the task of giving you this letter."

Seokjin raised an eyebrow at the way the boy sarcastically strained the words but took the letter from the youngest's hands. He opened the fancy, cream-coloured laid envelope, and took out an equally fancy, cream-coloured laid paper. His eyebrow raised higher as he kept reading.

"Dad, what does it say?" Jimin asked, his stomping foot giving away his excitement.

The man motioned for them to approach, and the boys pressed themselves against him to read the letter together.

Dear Mister Kim Seokjin,

On behalf of the Royal Family, it is my great pleasure to invite you and your sons, Kim Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jeongguk, to a private ball organised by His Highness, Crown Prince Jung Hoseok, on Saturday, the 13th day of June. The ball is to be held at the Palace.

We hope that you and your sons will be able to grace this event with your presence.

May your days be joyous and healthy in the months to come.

Yours in service,

Lord Chancellor Kim Namjoon

"What the hell is this?" Jimin snorted, incredulous. "'May your days be joyous and healthy in the months to come'? Really now?"

"This is so… pompous", Taehyung added.

"It's a formal invitation from the royal family", Seokjin explained, a small smile gracing his lips at his children's reaction.

"Okay, they're the royal family, but what are we, in 1865?"

"They have some etiquette to follow, still."

"Why are they sending us such an invitation, though?" Taehyung cocked his head to the side, unknowingly imitated by Yeontan.

"Oh, we actually were invited to a few of these events, back in the days", Seokjin shrugged. "The king likes my novels, apparently, and the prince used to love watching Jihyeon dance. So it's not really a surprise that we're invited to this ball, I suppose."

"How come I don't remember going to any of these events in the past, though?" Jimin frowned.

"Because the three of you were too young to go, so Jihyeon and I went without you. But ever since she left us, I didn't do much social attending, that's not really my thing. That's why it's been rather quiet, these past few years. Anyway, we're now all invited to the prince's ball, which is in… two weeks, roughly."

"Is it really okay for us to be there?" Taehyung asked. "It's not gonna be weird?"

"I don't think so. And the royal family's actually pretty chill, for royals. It's not as pompous as this letter makes you think it is", Seokjin chuckled, amused by his sons' questions. "The Lord Chancellor just has to follow the etiquette."

"Dad, please, even without all the etiquette thing, this Kim Namjoon guy must be old, boring, and uptight as fuck", Jimin rolled his eyes. "But still, a ball? At the Palace? That's another level than, I don't know, prom night."

"Which you never actually attended, Jimin, and neither did I, because we've always been homeschooled", his twin brother pointed out.

"Don't start, you two", their dad sighed. "Anyway, the actual invitations are in the envelope. Let's put it on top of the cabinet in the hallway, so we won't forget about them."

"So we're really going to a ball at the Palace in two weeks."

"I don't see why not. It's a good opportunity to go out a bit, meet new people, experience new things… Don't you think so, Jimin, Tae, Jeongguk? Wait, where's Jeongguk?"

The three of them looked around only to see that the youngest had, indeed, disappeared. Jeongguk had actually gone back downstairs right after they started reading the letter. Mainly because he didn't really care about its contents, but more importantly because he needed to finish mopping the floor before dinner.

Although the envelope had been lying on the cabinet in the entrance, the ball had slipped everyone's mind until the very day of the event.

Jin had been working on his novel, meeting his editor and his publisher, and going to the bank one time to meet their conseiller. ("Why another fancy French term?" Taehyung had asked one day, to which Jin had shrugged, "The bank decided that's what they were going to call their employees, don't ask".)

The three brothers, being homeschooled, had been busy with their respective or shared classes ("Why do I have to share an art class with you guys?" — "And why not? Art should be shared and appreciated!" — "Oh shut up, Tae." — "Fucking— Did you just throw clay at me?! Really, Gukk?" — "Oops, my bad Jimin, I was actually trying to get Taehyung." — "Then fucking aim at least, fucker!").

Jimin wanted to become a film critic, so he'd been watching films and writing essays about renowned producers, directors, and actors. He had seen a black and white film at the age of twelve, and had been so mesmerised by the finesse of the decors, the costumes and the actors, the quality of the dialogues, and the work of the director and the director of photography, that he had decided that he wanted to analyse films for the rest of his life.

Taehyung wanted to become an interior designer, having acquired from his late mother the taste of decorating a room so it would feel as welcoming and comforting as possible for the people living in it. Thus, he had been busy with modelling rooms for an architecture project that his teacher, Ms Kang, had shown him. The boy had been isolating himself in the Petit Salon, and last time Jin had entered the lavish but tastefully decorated room — courtesy of Taehyung — he had almost tripped on a pile of scraps of indistinct fabrics.

And Jeongguk… Jeongguk was still technically in high school, so he was studying every subject required for him to graduate. He always had Literature assignments, and History assignments, and Geography assignments, and Economics assignments, and Maths assignments, and Physics assignments, and why the hell did he have so many assignments for??? Moreover, there were always house chores to do, so let's say that yeah, Jeongguk had also been busy, maybe even the busiest, in the days that followed The Letter Incident™.

This brings us on the very day of the ball, the thirteenth day of June, on a beautiful, sunny, warm, and peaceful Saturday evening at the Jeon-now-Kim property. At least, peaceful until…

"FUUUUUCKKKKKKKKK!"

"You take that back immediately Kim Jimin, I haven't raised my sons to fucking curse so freely and loudly in my goddamn household!" Jin yelled from the study — the man occasionally needed a change of scenery, so he'd move from his bedroom to the study, which was in between the library and the Petit Salon.

"You're one to talk!" Jimin's voice echoed from downstairs, annoyance clear in his tone. "Dad, this is an emergency, you have to come at once!"

"Why are you guys yelling?" Taehyung shouted, opening the door of the Petit Salon and exchanging a confused glance with his father, who had popped his head out the doorway.

"Jimin, why don't you come upstairs so we can discuss whatever it is calmly?"

"Dad, now's absolutely NOT the time to be CALM!"

"Can y'all shut the fuck up?" Jeongguk's voice boomed from upstairs, the teen having shut himself in his bedroom to write his Literature assignment due to next Monday. "I need to think!"

"Can you not be rude? We need to talk!" Jimin retorted.

"Everyone stops shouting and comes into the library at once!" Jin yelled with finality, shutting the door of the study. "Jeongguk, you too!"

"But I have to finish—"

"Now, Jeongguk!"

The teen stomped downstairs, where his step-dad and step-brothers were already waiting. Jimin was looking thoroughly distressed, which was an unusual sight.

"Why are we always holding family meetings in the library anyway?"

"I don't know, why not? Would you rather hold family meetings in the laundry room?" Jimin snapped, just as Tae exclaimed,

"Oh my god, Gukkie, did you just call us family?!", excitement apparent in his voice.

"Okay kids, focus, please. I thought we had an emergency?" Jin arched an eyebrow, staring at his sons.

"Right, focus", the eldest of the three shook his head, holding up a certain cream-coloured envelope in front of their noses and waving it around for good measure. "Dad, we completely forgot about the ball!"

"Oh no..."

Jin's eyes widened, mirrored by Taehyung's. The novelist pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, and Jimin crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the carpeted floor in distress, while Tae was looking back and forth between the two.

"Wait, the ball is tonight?!"

"What ball?" Jeongguk asked.

"The ball hosted by the Prince at the Palace, the one we got invited to!"

"We got invited to a ball at the Palace?"

"Jesus, Jeongguk, you retrieved the invitations yourself!" Jimin shot him an incredulous look.

"Ah, so that's the thing that old weirdo came for! Well, sounds like you've got plans for tonight. Such a shame, your twinzies Harry Potter marathon will have to wait."

"Gukkie, you're coming, too. Right, Dad?" Tae intervened.

"Wait, let me think." The man was pacing around the piano, a frantic look gracing his handsome features. "What time are we supposed to be there?"

"It doesn't say", Jimin fiddled with the letter.

"So that actually means eight”, Jin nodded to himself, ignoring the look of utter perplexity exchanged between the twins. “What time is it now?"

"A little after seven", Tae answered, checking his watch.

"Shit. It takes around twenty minutes to go to the Palace. We need to get ready, and we don't have a car. I took it yesterday to the garage for its annual check-up, and they said they'd return it on Monday."

"Really? Dad!" Jimin huffed.

"I'll call Sandeul and see if he can pick us up. He should've been invited, too", Seokjin announced while walking to the door of the library. He paused at the doorway, casting a look at the boys. "You guys get ready in the meantime. It's a formal event, which means tailored suit, white or light coloured shirt, an assorted tie or bowtie, an assorted pocket square, and polished shoes. Watches are allowed, other than that, tone it down on the jewellery; one ring and one pair of earrings, but NO hoops, okay? Go change!"

"Wait… what?" Tae blinked, still staring at the spot his father was standing at two seconds ago. "We don't even possess half of those things…"

"We have suits, Tae, but you've got a point here. Who the fuck actually has pocket squares?"

"I guess you won't have time to eat before leaving", Jeongguk shrugged, strolling up to the door. "I'll just make sandwiches."

"What? No, you're coming with us!"

"Says who?"

"You're insufferable", Jimin rolled his eyes, tugging his twin by the sleeve. "Tae, come on, we have to go change. I think we'll have to iron some clothes because it's been ages since we last had to wear a suit. Jeongguk, you better get ready, too."

"Whatever."

The teen retreated to his room, intent on finishing his assignment, so he could spend the night watching one or two Ghibli movies, and maybe play some video games — especially since his brothers wouldn't be there to nag at him or complain because he was "too good at this, that's so unfair Gukk!"

"Finished!" Jeongguk announced proudly a little less than half an hour later, looking up from his assignment and stretching his arms as far as he could.

"Good", Jin's voice coming through his door startled him, "I was just about to check up on you! Let me see."

The novelist stepped into his room without waiting for an actual answer. Jeongguk's breath hitched. Jin was wearing a nice silky white shirt under a navy blue suit; the jacket had black lapels matching with his bowtie, and a white handkerchief was poking out from the side pocket. His slacks were a matching navy blue, and he was wearing black polished shoes with silver buckles. His hair was parted to the side, revealing his smooth forehead. Jeongguk noticed his step-father hadn't taken off his wedding ring, and his heart oddly squeezed at the sight of his hand.

"Jeongguk?" Jin's voice snapped the younger out of his thoughts. "I thought you were ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"The ball, Jeongguk, the ball! What are you doing in your old sweatpants still, I thought you were finished?"

"I meant my Lit assignment. Jin, I'm not going to the ball."

"Why not?" the man's gaze saddened, and Jeongguk almost felt guilty.

"I'm just… I'm not going."

"Gukk's not going?" Taehyung's head poked inside his room from the doorway, Jimin trailing behind him. "Why? I thought we were going together!"

"Nah, you guys have fun without me."

"Is it because of your suit?" Jimin entered, and immediately rummaged through his closet. "Don't worry, I'm sure it still… suits you", he added with a smirk, and Jin rolled his eyes at his eldest son's antics.

"No, it's not. I just don't want to go."

"Why not? You're not invited to a ball at the Palace every other night. You should definitely take this opportunity to enter the Palace and have fun", Jin raised an eyebrow.

"There", Jimin tossed him a pile of clothes, "just change into these."

"I just said I didn't want to!" the younger threw the clothes away through the open window, anger lacing his voice. "I don't want to go to that stupid ball!"

"But it's been so long since we did anything all together", Taehyung mumbled softly, obviously hurt.

"I don't care!"

"You just don't wanna hang out with us, is that it?" Jimin snapped. "Just fucking say it!"

"Fine, I don't wanna go out with you guys!"

"That's mean, Jeongguk", Taehyung pouted at the same time Jimin scoffed,

"There, at least your mother raised you to be honest!"

"Don't talk about my mother!" Jeongguk threatened, marching up to Jimin until he was slightly towering over the older, both of their gazes like steel cutting through the tense atmosphere.

"Okay, enough!" Jin intervened, softly but firmly pushing them apart. "Tae, Jimin, go wait outside for Sandeul. He should arrive any minute now. I'm coming down in a few."

“It’s always the same thing, anyway, it always ends up like this!” Jimin huffed but let his twin grab him by the hand, and they both stormed out of Jeongguk's room. Jin let out a defeated sigh, trailing his saddened gaze on his youngest son.

"I'm not going", the teen crossed his arms against his chest defensively.

"I know. I'm not trying to change your mind, Gukk. I just… I just keep wondering what has changed. You used to be such a happy little boy, and you liked playing with your brothers all the time… I know your mother's death took a toll on you — it took a toll on all of us. But you're not alone. You have us. Don't shut us out, Jeongguk. We're still family."

"People change", Jeongguk mumbled, scowling harder and ignoring the almost imperceptible shake of his hands. “That's all.”

"Jeongguk…"

"I'll just stay here tonight, don't worry about me. Have fun at the ball", the teen turned around, gazing through the window. He heard Jin sigh once more, then retreating footsteps, and finally, his bedroom door closing softly. Even then, he didn't turn around. And if the pair of stupid birds always perched on his windowsill saw the tears welling up his eyes, none of them was in the capacity to actually tell anyone.

Once his step-father and step-brothers were gone for good, Jeongguk trudged downstairs. The first thing he did was to retrieve his suit, feeling a bit guilty at the childish tantrum he had thrown earlier. He dusted the garments as well as possible before hand-washing them and hanging them outside. He sighed at the floating clothes; there was no way he would have been able to fit in those, anyway. The last — and only — time he'd worn that suit was at the wedding of some cousin of Jin's, Byulween or Byulyi or something, and that was two years ago. He had grown a lot since then, surpassing Jimin, and even Taehyung by a few centimetres. The thought brought a small smile to his lips. He recalled the way the blond had huffed in annoyance, "The youngest one is always the tallest sibling, that's just unfair!" and the way Taehyung had playfully smacked him upside the head; but his smile rapidly waned. His relationship with his brothers had changed now. The teen shook his head to clear his thoughts of the bittersweet memories.

"Focus, Jeongguk."

He made himself some sandwiches that he piled on a plate, moving to the couch in front of their huge TV screen to watch his first Ghibli movie of the night. He was halfway through Tales from Earthsea when a loud crack shook the windows of the room, while sudden lighting coming from outside blinded the entire screen — which was no small feat, considering the TV was huge.

"What the fuck?"

Jeongguk jumped from the couch, peering through the glass of the French windows. The chairs and the table on the terrace were still there, untouched. The sun had settled behind the old trees of the English garden, but the remaining lighting was enough for him to distinguish the silhouette of a man in white robes, standing next to the wooden bench under a willow and dusting off his clothes. Jeongguk blinked once, twice, even shook his head for good measure, but the man was still out there. He didn't seem to hold any weapon of any sort, but Jeongguk still grabbed one of the pool cues of the billiard — yes, they also had a billiard — before opening the French windows and making his way to the stranger.

"Hey, you! Who the fuck are you and how did you get into my house?"

"Wow, okay", the newcomer raised an eyebrow at the teen, his voice deeper than Jeongguk expected considering his height. "You sure grew up a lot since the last time I saw you, Jeon Jeongguk. And technically, I'm not in your house, I'm in your gardens. Nice gardens, by the way. The forsythia—"

"How do you know my name?"

"Now, that's a stupid question, Jeongguk. I know you, so of course, I would know your name. And you can drop that pool cue, I'm not going to hurt you."

"You might know me, but I don't know you", Jeongguk retorted, gripping his makeshift weapon more firmly. "Who the hell are you?"

"Teenagehood", the stranger tutted disapprovingly. "My name is Min Yoongi, I'm a friend of your mother's."

"You're a friend of my mother's."

"Yes, that's what I just said. Speaking of Jihyeon, where is she?"

"She's not here", Jeongguk breathed out, his grip on the pool cue loosening.

"What, did she go out somewhere?" Min Yoongi huffed. "Leaving her baby home alone, and forgetting about me? Fan-fucking-tastic. Where did she go?"

"You don't know my mother", he shook his head, voice trembling slightly. "There's no way you don't know…"

"Don't know what, kid? I haven't seen nor talked to Jihyeon in five years, I was busy at the Academy, so no, I don't know." Yoongi crossed his arms against his chest, growing more annoyed by the minute. "But feel free to enlighten me, because Jihyeon and I had agreed to meet at this exact spot, on this precise day, and I'm the only one here."

"My mother died a little less than four years ago."

Silence. Yoongi's arms fell to his sides, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Fuck. I'm sorry, kid."

"It's okay", he shrugged. "It's been a while."

Yoongi let out a small sigh, combing a hand through his hair. Jeongguk took the time to get a good look at the stranger. He was shorter than him, maybe about Jimin's height. His pale skin contrasted with his jet black hair and his dark eyes. He seemed lean but still well-built; his hands were big and beautiful, with long and delicate fingers Jeongguk almost felt jealous of — almost. His robes were of an iridescent white; the moon that had started to rise in the clear sky made the cloth shine with hues of blue. Min Yoongi was looking almost ethereal, so mesmerising that Jeongguk almost forgot the very odd and sudden appearance of the newcomer in his gardens.

"This looks bad", the latter was repeating, breaking Jeongguk's train of thoughts.

"What looks bad? And why did you have to meet my mother? How did you even enter here? We have high-level security cameras all around the domain."

"Slow down, kid", the guy trailed an amused glance on Jeongguk's figure. "One question at a time. How did I get here? I teleported, of course."

"You— You teleported."

"You have a weird habit of repeating what people are saying, haven't you?"

"Teleportation doesn't exist", the teen rolled his eyes. "That's not a thing. Yet. According to scientists." Yoongi raised an eyebrow at his words, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Teleportation is very much a thing, at least for us fairies."

"Fai— What?"

"Fairies, Jeongguk, fairies. I take it you haven't noticed, but I am a fairy, freshly graduated from the Academy. My name is Min Yoongi, and I'm a fairy."

"But… You don’t look like one?"

"Why? Can't men be fairies too?"

"N-No, I mean, it’s not about genders! Genders are fine—" the younger shook his head. "That's irrelevant! I have nothing against male fairies, but you're…”

"I'm?"

"You're……… You really don't look like a fairy."

“Okay.”

“I mean, I thought you’d be more like… An elf, I don’t know… You’re kinda short, so—”

“Wow, okay”, Yoongi’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “Shading strangers in your own gardens, I see how it is. Look", Yoongi snapped his fingers and a blue flame surged from his fingertips, startling the younger. He then opened his hand and the flame grew taller before revealing what seemed to be a diploma. The name "Min Yoongi" was written in bright blue cursive writing. The flame disappeared but the diploma remained in the air, floating above his palm. "There, do you believe me now?"

Jeongguk carefully took the piece of paper with the hand not holding the pool cue. It was indeed a diploma of the Academy of Fairies, awarded to Min Yoongi and dated from this very day.

"You really are a fairy…!"

"I can't believe you didn't bat an eyelash at the various displays of magic, but all it took to convince you was the goddamn diploma", Yoongi shook his head. "Anyway, now we both agree that I'm a fairy and I can use magic. Which means I can teleport. Moving on. Your mother didn't specifically leave anything for me, I suppose, considering that you didn't even know who I was. Did she possess anything… odd?"

"Odd? In what way?"

"Like, a peculiar object. Or did she have any secret chest that no one could open after she, uh, was gone?"

"Nothing peculiar, no secret chest. But what is this all about? Why did my mother agree to meet you here five years after you last saw her?"

"Long story short, I made a deal with your mother. I'm looking for a specific magical object, but it comes in two parts that have been separated. The deal was that, during my course at the Academy, I was to look for one part, while your mother looked for the other one. We were supposed to meet in your gardens the night of my graduation day, with the objects."

"That doesn't make sense! Why would my mother make a deal with you in the first place?"

"And why not? I don't look like someone suitable to make deals with, is that it?"

"No, it's not that", Jeongguk frowned. “Stop putting words in my mouth, it’s unnerving!”

"Look, your mother and I just happened to make a deal. She made a donation to the Academy, we met, we talked, she agreed to help me. There's nothing more to it. And today, I came to get what she was supposed to retrieve for me."

"But there's nothing that looks like a magical object, or an artefact, here. And trust me, I am familiar with every single thing that my mother left behind."

"Okay, so let me get this straight", Yoongi carded his long fingers through his hair once more. "It took me two years to retrieve that damn thing, and now that I finally have it, you're telling me your mother didn't fulfil her part of the deal?"

"I just—", Jeongguk huffed, exasperated. "I don't know, okay? She didn't tell me anything about this, she didn't tell me about you, or any deal, or any quest!"

"Man. You gotta be kidding."

"I'm sorry, I know she'd probably have hated to leave unfinished business, especially since deals with fairies are not to be taken lightly, but she really didn't leave anything odd behind. I don't think I can help you much more than that."

"Help? Oh, but you can help, Jeon Jeongguk", the fairy smirked.

"Me? How? I already told you everything I know."

“The answer is simple enough, though. By completing the task your mother couldn’t finish.”

“W-What...?” Jeongguk stammered. “You mean, I have to go look for your odd thing?”

“It’s only fair”, Yoongi mindlessly inspected his perfectly manicured nails, as if he just hadn’t spoken utter nonsense. “You’re her son, after all. Who better than you could fulfil her part of the deal?”

“But I— I don’t have time for this!”

“I’m sure you can manage, kid. A deal is a deal, and as you so fittingly said, a deal with a fairy is not to be taken lightly.”

Jeongguk let out a sigh, having dropped the pool cue to rub at his temples with both hands. The teen could already feel the impending headache, and he just wanted to go back to his Ghibli movie, and why couldn’t it have been Jin dealing with this fairy dude literally coming out of nowhere—

“Let’s say I accept to help you”, he lifted up his head to see the shorter male already smiling smugly at him, as if he already knew that Jeongguk would cave in. “You’re gonna have to tell me what particular object you’re seeking. You have been nothing but elusive, so far.”

Yoongi’s demeanour seemed to slightly falter, and he brought his arms across his chest in a somewhat defensive stance.

“Ah yes. I will have to tell you, won’t I?”

“I would definitely help to know what exactly I am looking for”, the teen deadpanned. “Except if you don’t want to have it as soon as possible. I mean, I could spend ten years of my life searching for it.”

“As tempting as it sounds to let you do just that and watch you struggling, I’m not so cruel that I’ll let you waste ten years of your life, kid. Your mother definitely would have had my head for that.”

“So? Are you going to tell me?”

“You promise you’re going to do it?”

“I promise”, the teen rolled his eyes, “and I always keep my word. Happy? So, you gonna tell me or what?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Yoongi grumbled, scooting closer as if he was about to whisper the biggest secret Jeongguk would ever get to know. “I’m looking for a pair of shoes.”

“Come again?” The teen shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “You’ve spent two years roaming the kingdom and then some for shoes?”

“Those are not random shoes, you layman! These shoes are a rare and magical item.”

“Are they made of gold or something? Of diamond? Of glass?”

“No. They can fit anyone who puts them on, and their appearance depends on the will of their wearer.”

Jeongguk stared at Yoongi, an eyebrow raised at the fairy, thoroughly unimpressed.

“That’s… a stupid property? I mean, I get that you’d want shoes that can change depending on your mood, but you can just buy several pairs.”

Yoongi just shook his head, sighing.

“Kids these days. Do I have to have a reason for looking for these shoes?”

“I mean, usually, you don’t spend years searching for random things ‘just because’. Or, you’re really bored and have a lot of free time.”

“Let’s just say that I’m trying to set up my own collection of random but unique or rare artefacts. Are you satisfied with that answer?”

“I guess this will have to do.”

“Insufferable.”

The two males stared at each other again, both feeling frustrated by the other but still secretly enjoying the playful banter. Yoongi tilted his head, his arms still crossed on his torso, and Jeongguk unconsciously mirrored his pose.

“As you might have figured, I have one of the shoes already, and your mother was supposed to retrieve the other one.”

“Why would the shoes even be separated in the first place?” Jeongguk rolled his eyes and Yoongi swatted his shoulder.

“How would I know? Now focus, please. It has actually come to my knowledge that the other shoe is somewhere in the Palace—”

“Wait, hold on! If you know where the other shoe is, why can’t you just get it yourself?”

“Because it wasn’t the deal, Jeongguk”, Yoongi huffed. “Luckily, there is a ball at the Palace tonight—”

“Is it going where I think this is going?”

“And luckily for us, you happened to have been invited to said ball.”

“Oh no. No, no, no.”

“Yes”, the fairy smiled sweetly, his gums showing. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“How do you even know I’ve been invited—” Jeongguk shook his head. “You know what, nevermind. I’m not going to that party.”

“You’re going to that ball, Jeongguk”, Yoongi’s smile widened. “Or, I can just teleport that old blue notebook that’s in the bottom drawer of your desk right in Kim Seokjin’s bedroom, currently locked with a key that is in his left pocket right now, for him to find and read later tonight, what do you think?”

“Wha— How do you— Why— You, you can’t do that!” the boy sputtered, his eyes widening in horror.

“Test me, kid.”

“Don’t do that! Anything but that, please...”

“Very well! So, I guess you’re going to that ball, after all”, Yoongi’s sweet smile widened even more.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go…” Jeongguk nodded, defeated.

“We’ll have to get you ready before that, though. You outgrew your previous suit. If you could find me a tarp, a litre of milk, some flour, a silver spoon, a white sheet of paper, ten fallen willow leaves and three dahlias ‘Arabian night’, please.” Jeongguk just blinked at him, mouth agape.

“Three what?”

“Three dahlias ‘Arabian Night’, those are— You know what, I will retrieve the ingredients from the gardens myself. Just please get the tarp, the milk, the flour, the silver spoon and the paper. Oh, and the plate of sandwiches you left on the coffee table.”

Jeongguk wordlessly nodded, picking up the pool cue on the way to put it back in its place before retrieving everything the fairy had asked. Weird things, but common enough that the teen was sure he would find in the house. When he came back in the gardens, resigned and accepting of his fate, Yoongi was sitting on the wooden bench, counting willow leaves.

“Ah, there you are! We have to hurry, the ball has started a while ago. You’re going to be late either way, but the sooner you get to the Palace, the more time you’ll have to look for the shoe. Give me the tarp, please.”

Yoongi unfolded the brown tarp that they kept in the garage and placed it on the ground at their feet. He placed the willow leaves at the centre of the tarp, in a neat circle, then grabbed the jar of flour squeezed between Jeongguk’s arm and torso, and dropped five spoonfuls in the middle. He started to sing some sort of soft incantation in a language the younger obviously didn’t understand, his low voice the only sound disturbing the peace of the gardens under the rising moonlight. Still singing, he crushed three flowers of a deep red — that Jeongguk assumed were the dahlias arabica coffee night whatever— above the circle, making their petals fall on the flour and staining its whiteness like drops of blood. The fairy then proceeded to empty the entire carton of milk on the circle of willow leaves, bending forward a little to get a better aim. The milk stayed inside the circle made by the willow leaves, not a drop landing or rolling on the rest of the tarp. Jeongguk couldn’t help but watch, mesmerised, the translucent and whitish liquid rippling within its magical boundaries.

“There”, the fairy straightened up and clapped his hands once, seemingly satisfied with his work. “Now we wait.”

“We wait?” Jeongguk repeated stupidly because nothing that had happened in the past two minutes made any sort of sense to him.

“Only a few minutes, until the flour has sipped all of the milk.”

“What about the sandwiches?” the younger asked, slightly raising the plate he still had in his hands. “Are you going to use them for the… magic thing?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, I was just hungry. Thanks”, Yoongi replied, taking a sandwich from the pile and happily munching on it. Jeongguk could only look at the shorter male in disbelief while the latter was scarfing down one, then two sandwiches.

“Okay, we’re good!” Yoongi announced, licking his pink lips. “Take off your shoes and step inside the circle, please.”

Jeongguk eyed the gooey mess of flour, milk and red petals with mild disgust. As if sensing his reticence, the fairy swatted his shoulder.

“Just do it.”

A mildly aggressive male voice faintly echoed in the distance, its shouts of encouragement having travelled from beyond lands, mounts and seas, as well as time and space, “Just! Do it!”

“Fine, fine”, Jeongguk grumbled, taking off his shoes and his socks before stepping in the greyish goo, grimacing at the sensation.

“Now close your eyes, and let the magic happen”, Yoongi announced, a cocky smile plastered on his handsome face.

Jeongguk let out an indecipherable mumble but closed his eyes obediently. He could hear Yoongi pick up his incantation again; a strong gust of wind wrapped around his lean body, its warmth not unpleasant in the cooler night, and the boy could feel himself slowly getting lifted up in the air. He almost opened his eyes but remembered the fairy’s words and decided to trust him — he let the magic happen. Yoongi’s chant seemed to accelerate as the wind twirled around each of his limbs, enveloping them in fabric. Jeongguk could smell the pleasant perfume of the summer night, and freshly cut grass with softer accents of flowery scents. The wind finally blew in his hair, and his body was delicately placed back down on the ground.

“Not bad”, he heard Yoongi whistle appreciatively.

Jeongguk opened his eyes, examining his body with newfound and unconcealed wonder. He was wearing a deep red suit with black linings and silver cuffs, a matching black pocket-handkerchief with silver embroideries, black polished shoes with silver buckles, a silver ring and a silver watch that looked more expensive than Taehyung and Jimin’s entire wardrobes combined — which consisted, amongst other things, of an entire fall Gucci collection for the former, and at least three Saint-Laurent ensembles for the latter.

Yoongi clapped in his hands twice and a big oval mirror materialised into the air. Jeongguk wordlessly came close to the mirror, admiring the other’s work. The suit was so well-fitted it seemed that Jeongguk was born in it. Yoongi had added a touch of eyeshadow to the corner of his eyes to emphasise the depth of his gaze, and his hair was neatly parted and styled to reveal his unblemished forehead. He also wore a pair of discrete silver earrings with embedded diamonds that he knew Jimin would absolutely go crazy for if he ever saw them. He slowly brought a hand to his ear, touching the dangling jewels with trembling fingers.

“Well? Happy?”

“I… Wow”, he whispered, still in awe at the transformation. He looked more mature, more charismatic, more confident, more… More like Seokjin, actually. ”This looks… incredible. Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Now you’re ready to go to the ball. A taxi will wait for you in five minutes at the entrance. I scanned your house earlier; your step-father Kim Seokjin has left your invitation on top of the cabinet in the hallway, near the front door. He’s a thoughtful man. Anyway, I took the liberty to place that carton in your suit pocket with your keys and your phone. We wouldn’t want you to forget it now, would we?”

Jeongguk didn’t reply, knowing the question was mostly rhetorical. Yoongi let out a sigh of satisfaction, assessing the younger’s appearance one last time before ushering him back to the house.

“Off you go, now, kid!”

The older pushed him all the way to the front door, as if he knew his way around the house — and maybe he did, he had met his mother in the past after all. Or maybe this knowledge came with his “scanning” of the place. Jeongguk had decided to not ask questions, as some things couldn’t be explained in any way other than magic.

“Wait!” He turned around just as Yoongi opened the front door, and, just as the fairy had said, a black sleek Maserati — his taxi — was parked and waiting for him on the opposite side of the street. “I don’t even know what that shoe looks like!”

“Trust me, when you’ll see it, you’ll know. Have fun at the ball, Jeongguk. I’ll come back tomorrow in the evening. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to lock the door before I go.”

With these last — slightly daunting — words, Yoongi all but shoved Jeongguk at the back of the car before nodding to the driver and shutting the door.

The ride to the Palace was silent. Jeongguk contemplated the city streets passing by his window, thinking that he didn’t venture out of the house that much anymore. Not since his mother’s death. He found the buzzing streets to be mostly the same, still bright thanks to street lamps and light garlands; some shops had disappeared, replaced by new businesses, but his favourite ice cream parlour was still there. He watched the silhouette of the Palace coming to view, growing closer and more intimidating by the second. Jeongguk almost asked the driver to turn around, but he was on a mission. And, as tedious as the task may be, Jeon Jeongguk never backed out of a mission.

The taxi left him at the entrance of the Palace, where he only had to present his invitation to the pair of guards standing at the imposing iron gates to be granted access to the main court. His heels clicked on the pavement, the sounds echoing through the empty court as he walked to the external stairway. He presented his invitation again to the guards standing in front of the giant wooden doors that were actually opened, and crossed the threshold. 

There. He was in the Palace.

There were more stairs, a few turns, but soon enough the teen could see the Grand Ballroom, where the life of the party was undoubtedly happening. Checking his watch, Jeongguk noticed it was nearing ten. Everyone had already arrived since long, now fully enjoying the dances and the cocktails, so he could sneak into some other parts of the Palace without being disturbed. He tried to think of places where a magic shoe could be stored: the attic, the dungeon, the cellar…? The item could very well be in the King’s chambers, hidden in a cabinet or in a secret chest, for all he knew. Forget the needle in the haystack; a shoe in a palace was the new, fitting expression. Grumbling about Yoongi’s stupid deal, stupid quest, and stupid magic shoes, Jeongguk decided to check the cellar first.

The cellar was close to the kitchens, currently bustling with cooks, apprentices and waiters, but Jeongguk somehow managed to slip past the agitation through the door of the cellar. Surprisingly, the cellar was small compared to the size of the Palace. The rest of the undergrounds was actually divided into prison cells and torture chambers that belonged in the past and definitely weren’t used anymore. Jeongguk shivered when he passed in front of the heavy metal doors, not even wanting to fathom the morbid events that had happened behind those many centuries ago. He quickly wrapped up his tour of the cellar; as expected, there was only wine — a lot of wine — and countless other bottles of different sorts of refined alcohol.

He slipped past the kitchens again and inspected the multiple cabinets of dark, unused salons on the first floor. Plates, silver cutlery, some drapes, countless curios and ornaments of many kinds, but no shoe. Jeongguk was growing frustrated. He knew the second and third floors were the royal family’s quarters, and he didn’t want to risk getting caught rummaging in these. While it was relatively easy to explain why he was in the Petit salon de danse — just a guest wanting to clear his head from the music downstairs, and getting lost on his way to the bathroom — he would have a hard time justifying why he was in the Queen’s bed chambers. He also didn’t know how to access the attic, and once again, he cursed the damn fairy and his stupid magic shoes before deciding to head back downstairs for the time being. He could actually use some fresh air; not to clear his head from the ball, but nobody had to know that.

He ventured to the other rooms on the ground floor, other ballrooms, dining rooms and salons — why the hell did they need so many salons for? Some French windows in one of the dining rooms were actually opened, and Jeongguk’s feet led him to an outdoor terrace, with a nice view of a fountain and perfectly pruned groves. The teen leant slightly forward, clutching onto the ledge, closing his eyes and breathing the scents carried by the fresh night breeze. He let out a long, frustrated sigh.

Stupid shoes, stupid deal, and stupid Yoongi.

“Judging from the heartbreaking sigh that just left your mouth, I take it this ball is not to your liking?”

Jeongguk turned around to the source of the voice so fast that he almost got whiplash. Sitting on the ledge of the terrace, a few metres on his right, was a young man glancing at him with mild interest, amusement dancing in his irises. The newcomer — well, in this case, Jeongguk was the newcomer, as the stranger was already there when he came outside — was wearing an expansive looking night blue suit with silver embroideries with a matching bowtie and pocket-handkerchief. His hair, much like Jeongguk’s, was parted to reveal his unblemished forehead. He had delicate yet strong features, a playful smile on his thin lips, and an alluring dark gaze that remained fixated on Jeongguk with intensity.

The teen faltered, opening then closing his mouth, seemingly at a loss for words. First of all, because the stranger had caught him by surprise — probably just caught him, for that matter. Second of all, because the stranger was drop-dead gorgeous, and that was no light statement considering Jeongguk lived under the same roof as one Kim Seokjin, one Kim Taehyung and one Kim Jimin. And lastly, because Jeongguk didn’t know what to reply to the breathtaking stranger, as he hadn’t actually attended the ball.

“Is the music not to your taste?” the stranger asked further, hopping down from the ledge with ease and casually walking towards Jeongguk. “Or is it the beverages? The appetisers?”

“I-I…” Jeongguk stuttered helplessly.

“Or perhaps are you not fond of dancing and socialising? Those kinds of gatherings can be overwhelming for someone who is not used to them, which, I assume, you are.”

“H-How— How would you know?”

“Because it’s the first time I’m seeing you, my dear friend.” Jeongguk felt his cheeks go pink at the use of the word “dear”, even though he knew this wasn’t much of a term of endearment in the present situation.

“Y-Yeah”, he tried to play it off, even though it wasn’t technically a lie. “I’m not really used to going out into society.”

“Actually, it’s also my first time seeing you at all tonight”, the stranger’s smile widened, as if he seemed to know more than he let it show. “I don’t recall even seeing you earlier, at the start of the ball.”

“O-Oh…” Jeongguk was starting to sweat, doing his best not to fidget under the ever insistent gaze of the stranger, who was now only a few steps away from him. “Maybe you missed my arrival…?” The other male let out a laugh, a genuine one, the sound clear and warming the air of the night, and doing all sorts of things to Jeongguk’s body.

“Oh, trust me”, he replied, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I certainly wouldn’t have missed your arrival, sweetcheeks.”

Jeongguk’s face flushed a shade of red probably matching his suit, and he recoiled, dumbfounded. Was this handsome stranger perhaps… flirting with him? Jeongguk had been homeschooled most of his life, and he didn’t go out so he didn’t have any friends except his step-brothers. Which meant that he had never experienced flirting or being flirted with. Jeon Jeongguk, at almost eighteen, had no idea what flirting was, but this was close enough to the idea of flirting he had gotten from the silly rom-com movies Jimin and Taehyung liked to watch. And he had no idea how to react to the possible flirting happening on top of his already hazardous predicament. The stranger’s smile widened even more at his prolonged silence, if that was even possible, and his eyes sparkled with something that Jeongguk could only decipher as “Gotcha.” Fuck.

“And while I do mean that I find your looks totally befitting to my taste, I mostly meant that every single guest in the ballroom has been announced upon their arrival, then formally introduced to me, as custom states.”

Jeongguk barely managed to keep his mouth from falling open in shock, looking every bit like a deer caught in headlights. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. He definitely had been caught, and by none other than the Crown Prince.

“You look a bit young and too well dressed for a thief or an assassin”, Jung Hoseok continued, raising a hand to his temple in mock reflection, “but everyone can get hired these days…”

“I-I’m— It’s not what you think!” Jeongguk cried out, panic starting to seep into his already fractured composure.

“What are you doing here, then?”

“I— I’m actually invited! I have the invitation, wait...” the teen stammered. He looked into his pockets, but his heart dropped when he only felt his phone and his keys. The carton was nowhere to be found. “Fuck”, he breathed out, searching frantically for the invitation even though he doubted he still had it on him. “It must’ve fallen…”

“Fallen,” Hoseok repeated, unimpressed.

“Fallen somewhere near the, the beverages…?” Jeongguk couldn’t possibly tell the Crown Prince that he had most likely dropped his invitation in one of the rooms he wasn’t supposed to be. He looked at the other male with despair, honestly this close to falling onto his knees and begging for leniency.

“The beverages.”

“I’m terribly sorry I can’t prove my words to you, but you have to believe me! I’m not here to, to, to kill you or anything. My Prince. I mean, Your Highness.”

Jung Hoseok let out another fresh and endearing laugh, his eyes glinting with playfulness and interest once more.

“Relax, sweetcheeks, I was messing with you. I know you’re no danger to me or to my family, just look at you! You wouldn’t be able to hurt a fly.”

Jeongguk could only nod, head dropped down in shame. He felt relieved that the Crown Prince wasn’t about to throw him in one of the prison cells, the gates of which he had passed by earlier. But also slightly offended that said Crown Prince deemed him so harmless that he didn’t even believe Jeongguk capable of swatting a mere fly, which he had done countless times in the past and even had developed a faultless technique that involved the use of a tea towel.

“I can only thank and bless your, hum, good judgement in character, Your Highness”, he mumbled, eyes downcast on his perfectly polished shoes. The sudden contact of a hand slowly lifting his chin startled him, his flustered gaze now once more holding the royal’s.

“You don’t have to be so formal with me”, the Crown Prince chuckled, clearly amused by the whole situation, “I bet you’re not that much younger than me. And I won’t denounce you to my guards, but you’ll still have to tell me why you came late to the ball and have been acting very suspicious ever since you saw me.”

Jeongguk gulped, blushing once more because the contact of Hoseok’s fingers on his chin was spreading warmth all over his face, a thought and sensation he wasn’t willing to dwell on. He had more pressing matters at hand. Should he reveal everything to the Crown Prince? On the other hand, the latter had caught him already, and maybe he would be able to help Jeongguk find the shoe. Jung Hoseok ought to know what was in the Palace, after all.

The royal must have misinterpreted his silence for fear, unknowing of his internal debate, because he released his grip on Jeongguk’s chin and took a few steps back. Jeongguk immediately missed the touch of Hoseok on his skin, a thought that, once again, he refused to properly acknowledge.

“You seem overwhelmed. Maybe you can start by telling me your name?”

“My name’s J—”

Jeongguk stopped mid-sentence, his brain thinking a mile a minute. The Crown Prince had said he wouldn’t get him in trouble, and he might even be able to help him, but once Jeongguk was outside the Palace, the guy could very well change his mind and come after him. Jeongguk trusted Hoseok enough to tell him about his deal with the fairy, but did he trust him enough to give him his name? Better be safe than sorry; moreover, he doubted he would ever meet the Crown Prince ever again after this peculiar night. That observation caused an unfamiliar pang in his chest, and he almost winced at the unpleasant sensation.

“Well?”

“You can call me JK, Your Highness.” The Crown Prince arched an eyebrow at his answer but didn’t comment on it.

“You can call me Hoseok”, he replied instead. “I already told you, you can drop the formal titles and all the shebangs. Unless we’re in the presence of my father or the Lord Chancellor, of course”, he joked.

“Noted… Hoseok.”

The royal beamed like a kid in front of a Christmas tree, and Jeongguk couldn’t help but offer a small smile in return.

“So, JK, since you don’t seem to like my ball, what really brings you to my humble abode?”

Jeongguk could have snorted at the playful jab, but was too focused on deciding on what he could or couldn’t reveal, and also maybe on trying not to openly drool at the sight of Hoseok. After his short narrative — he made a deal with a fairy that requested him to get a magical shoe that happened to be somewhere in the Palace — he licked his lips nervously, not noticing how Hoseok’s gaze immediately followed the movement of his tongue.

“And this is the predicament I’m finding myself in.”

"So, you need the shoe because you made a deal with a fairy", Hoseok summarised, having grown more serious during Jeongguk’s story. "Deals with fairies are not to be taken lightly."

“Precisely”, the teen grimaced, glancing apologetically at the prince. "Listen, I really need this shoe. I don't want to risk upsetting a magical being. So, if you could please give it to me…" Hoseok stayed pensive for a few minutes, finally lifting his gaze off Jeongguk to trail it on the gardens instead.

"No."

Jeongguk’s heart plummeted in his chest while skipping a beat, which was a very odd and unpleasant sensation. What didn’t help was that Hoseok, a very fine and handsome man, had rejected Jeongguk’s request. Not that he was attracted to the guy, of course! But being denied by a very fine and handsome man is always unpleasant, no matter the nature of your request.

"N-No?"

"But you can have my shoe instead. Here." Hoseok took off his shoe and put it in Jeongguk's hand, who just stared at it dumbly.

"What—"

"Take it, it's a shoe. You wanted a shoe, right?"

"B-But, not this one!"

"I know, I know, but you can still have this one. As a precious memory of our encounter", he added with a playful grin that brightened his whole devilishly handsome face. Jeongguk felt his cheeks burn, but chose not to ponder whether it was because of Hoseok’s smile or because of his thinning patience.

“But you said yourself that deals with fairies weren’t to be taken lightly.”

“I did say so”, Hoseok smiled. “In fact, you’re probably going to find yourself in a bit of trouble if you don’t have it.”

“Then why refuse to give it to me?”

Hoseok grinned, another devastatingly handsome grin, and Jeongguk felt himself blush once more. Stupid body. And stupid Hoseok, nevermind him being the Crown Prince. The teen could only hope that the night was dark enough to hide both his embarrassment and his growing impatience.

“I’m not even sure where the shoe might be”, Hoseok continued, clueless of Jeongguk’s internal struggles. “I do have an idea, though…”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there.”

“There is a ‘but’ indeed. A very nice, promising, bubbly ‘but’, actually, sweetcheeks.”

Jeongguk gawked at the prince’s words, flustered once again at the blatant flirting and the repeated use of the term of endearment that Hoseok seemed to be fond of.

“I’m guessing you want something in return. What are your conditions? I’d do anything”, the younger finally asked.

“Now we’re talking, JK”, Hoseok beamed. “What about a kiss?”

“A k-k-kiss?” Jeongguk sputtered, now a similar shade of red as his suit. The Crown Prince laughed, his head tilted back as the sound of his mirth filled the night.

“Too forward? What about your real name, then?”

“Forget it”, Jeongguk mumbled, his patience now close to non-existent. He was tired, he was grumpy, he was confused, and he was losing the little battle of nerves — that most people would probably call “banter” — initiated by the older male.

“You said you’d do anything?” Hoseok arched one of his perfect eyebrows.

“I don’t want to do this. I’ll find another way. You can take back your shoe.”

“Ah, ah, sweetcheeks! I told you this was a gift, didn’t I?”

“And I said, I don’t want it! Take it back.”

“Most people would be honoured to be gifted the Crown’s Prince shoe, you know?” Hoseok teased. “You should keep it, it’ll remind you of our uncharacteristic encounter.”

Jeongguk wondered if throwing the shoe back at Hoseok’s handsome face would guarantee him a stay in prison, and in that case, for how long.

"Stop messing around and take back your damn—"

"Wait, Minnie! Isn't that Gukkie over there?" A voice sounding suspiciously like Taehyung’s cut him off, somewhere on his left — the French windows of an adjacent terrace had just been opened.

"Really? Where?" his other step-brother inquired, footsteps growing increasingly closer.

"Shit", Jeongguk panicked, eyes going to the source of their voices, then back to Hoseok, then to the dining room their terrasse was connected to. He could make it. Without sparing a glance to the prince, he dashed towards the dining room and disappeared inside.

"Hey, wait!" he heard Hoseok call after him. "Where are you going?"

"Jimin, I really think it's him, look!"

Jeongguk ran even faster, making turns at lightning speed — thank god he remembered his way to the exit. The magnificent outdoor stairs came into view. Oddly enough, there weren’t any guards in sight anymore. None at the Palace doors, and none at the iron gates. This could actually play in the teen’s favour. Jeongguk could feel the refreshing breeze of the night caressing his cheeks once again. He was almost at the bottom of the stairs when he tripped over his feet, and with a yelp, he almost fell face-first on the pavement. He grimaced at the pitiful state his suit was in — there was a hole over one of his knees, the fabric torn enough to reveal a scraped knee — and he had lost a shoe while falling. The object was lying a few steps higher, but at the approaching voices of his two step-brothers calling after him, Jeongguk instinctively put on the prince's shoe, which he somehow still had in hand. Thankfully, it fit him perfectly.

The boy dashed forward; he passed the heavy doors of the iron gate and ran further into the city, ignoring the pain spreading further in his knee. He ran without pause until the sound of a honk and a shiny black car startled him. It was his “taxi” from earlier. The driver lowered his tinted window, wordlessly telling him to get in. Jeongguk didn’t have time to think so he lunged himself onto the back seat, and the Maserati dashed away through the otherwise silent streets of the sleeping city.

When they reached his house, Jeongguk had regained some of his breath. He profusely thanked the driver, who only nodded with an enigmatic smile before disappearing into the night. Jeongguk unlocked the door of his house with trembling hands, then threw his keys on the cabinet in the hallway. He kicked off his mismatched shoes and hastily grabbed them before flying upstairs. He went to his bedroom and locked the door, took off the suit, and threw the clothes and the shoes under his bed. He hastily put the big white shirt he always wore to sleep on, and finally allowed himself to relax. He took a few deep breaths, sitting on his bed, then winced at the sight of his knee. It was scraped on the surface, a bit of blood around the edges, but he could already see a bigger bruise underneath it all. Jeongguk sighed. Taking the bottle of water that was always beside his nightstand, he cleaned the wound with a tissue. Just as he was done, he heard noises and voices coming from downstairs — his step-brothers were back. Jeongguk jumped under the covers. He waited with bated breaths for the twins, and then later for his step-dad, to go to bed, before falling into slumber himself.

— 👑 —

When Hoseok reached the outdoor stairs, two young men, slightly out of breath, were holding something and inspecting it with confused stares. Hoseok looked up ahead; the front of the iron gates of the Palace was unguarded. No one was there. He sighed. He hadn’t expected to catch up to JK — the kid was damn fast — but he frowned at the lack of guards. He would have to have a word with Namjoon and his father. He glanced back at the two boys a few steps down and cleared his throat. They lifted their heads, taking him in, and their eyes widened. Hoseok offered a small smile.

“Y-Your Highness!” the blond one bowed hastily, imitated by the other.

“Good evening… Kim Jimin and Kim Taehyung, if I remember correctly?” Their eyes got even bigger, if that was possible, as if they couldn’t believe that the Crown Prince in person had remembered their names from the endless rows of introduction earlier.

“That would be correct, Your Highness”, the taller one, Kim Taehyung, nodded respectfully.

“No need to be formal”, Hoseok chuckled. “You can call me Hoseok. You must be close to me in age.”

“Ah… Well…”

An uncomfortable silence settled between the three young men. The twins were staring at the object in their hands and fidgeting like toddlers, not daring to look their Prince in the eyes. Upon closer inspection, Hoseok realised it was, in fact, a shoe. He felt a surge of disappointment, thinking that JK had dumped his shoe after flying away. 

“May I ask for the object you’re currently holding? I think it might belong to me.”

The twins flinched and looked up at him, then down again, taking in the lack of shoe on one of his feet. Taehyung hastily offered the shoe to Hoseok.

“Our apologies!”

The Prince took the shoe in his hands, and his heart did a weird summersault when he realised that it was not, in fact, his shoe. Whatever had happened, JK had kept his royal shoe, and the thought of it brought an odd sense of satisfaction to his chest. Hoseok glanced at his foot and decided to try the shoe. As if Fate had decided to bless his night, it fit perfectly. The shoes were mismatched, but they both fit, and Hoseok felt, once again, an odd sense of satisfaction. If the Kims noticed the weird fashion predicament their Prince was in, they didn’t utter a word about it. Hoseok looked at them, then at the iron gates, then directed his eyes to the pair once more.

“So, Kim Jimin and Kim Taehyung, what brought you in front of  the gates of my Palace on this fine night?”

The twins glanced at each other briefly before staring back at him. The glint in Kim Jimin’s eyes told Hoseok that the blond was biting his tongue not to retort something along the lines of “And what are /you/ doing at the gates of your Palace?”, which amused him immensely.

“We were brought here because we thought we had seen someone familiar”, Taehyung carefully spoke up.

“But we must have been mistaken, surely”, Jimin continued. “Our, hum, acquaintance said they weren’t attending the ball tonight. Anyway, we hope we didn’t hinder you in, uh… whatever it is that you were doing, Your H— I mean, Hoseok…” Hoseok barely repressed a snort, choosing to nod his head instead.

“Well, my business here is also done, it seems. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.”

The pair bowed to the Prince, Jimin hastily adding,

“We shall take our leave, too!”

Hoseok noted with amusement once again that the Kims were carefully walking a few steps behind him, and they all made their way back to the ballroom. Not wanting to fluster them further, Hoseok offered them a small smile and the twins bowed once again before scurrying off. Hoseok scanned the large room, looking for a familiar tall figure that he spotted at the back, and in the middle of an animated conversation with Lord Im Jaebum and fencing champion Jackson Wang. He walked to the buffet, smiling politely at his guests on the way.

“I’m sorry for interrupting”, Hoseok greeted the men pleasantly, “but I’m afraid I have to borrow Namjoon for a minute.”

“Please, we don’t mind, Hoseok”, Jaebum replied. “I’m sure you have important business to discuss.”

“It won’t be long”, Hoseok promised, ignoring the inquisitive glance his Chancellor was throwing at him. “I’ll bring him back to you in a few minutes. Gentlemen”, Hoseok nodded his head to the men while Namjoon bowed.

“Your Highness, Lord Chancellor”, Jaebum and Jackson bowed back with a teasing glint, and Namjoon hurried after Hoseok who was leading them to another, smaller and quieter room.

“What is it about?” the taller asked, once the noises coming from the ballroom were reduced to a diffuse buzz through the heavy mahogany doors.

“Namjoon, I would like the personnel to look everywhere in the Palace for an invitation that would have been dropped in one of the empty rooms.”

“Why?” Namjoon frowned. “Did someone get in with forging a false invitation? Should I call the guards and organise a search? The royal family might be in danger.”

“None of the sort”, Hoseok assured. “The invitation just belongs to a certain someone whose identity I would like to confirm.”

“Sounds like a conspiracy.”

“Joon, he’s harmless, and he already left anyway.” Hoseok pursed his lips into a slight pout. “He just didn’t give me his real name.”

“Ooooh, Crown Prince Jung Hoseok”, Namjoon’s eyebrows rose up, a teasing smile looming on his thin lips. “Is that someone you were interested in and you scared him off by being too straightforward?”

“Believe me, there was nothing straight about my approach”, Hoseok deadpanned and Namjoon snorted. “And I hate that you figured it out this quickly.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell the personnel to look everywhere for that carton.” Namjoon nodded and started to walk to another door, but Hoseok grasped his arm, making the tall blond falter.

“There’s something else.”

“Yes?”

“Would you happen to know about a magical shoe, a single one, that would be hidden somewhere in the Palace?”

“I do, in fact.” The Chancellor cocked his head slightly to the side, thinking. “But no one ever mentions or uses it, it’s kinda useless as it is. Why are you asking?”

“I need it”, Hoseok shrugged.

“You need it? What for?”

“I just need it”, the Prince pursed his lips again.

“That’s highly suspicious”, Namjoon stared at his childhood friend, unimpressed. “It wouldn’t be related to your runaway eye candy, would it, Hoseok?”

“Damn”, the latter groaned. “How do you always figure these things out?”

“Guess I’m the newly appointed Lord Chancellor for a reason”, Namjoon replied smugly. “Anyway, I’ll ask the personnel to look for the invitation and to bring the shoe to your apartments. I don’t know what you intend to do with it, but make sure your father knows about it before you actually do anything. Just in case.”

Both men parted with a friendly pat on the shoulder; the Lord Chancellor to seek for the majordomo, and the Prince to return to the ball and entertain his guests. Hoseok fell into a whirlwind of pleasant conversations about arts and the cultural assets of the country, and occasional dances granted upon shy requests.

By the time the ball came to a close, the sun was peeking above the horizon, its golden rays swallowing up the last remnants of that night’s extravaganza. Hoseok, exhausted but satisfied, couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing. Like a spell that had lost its effect, or a dream burst like a bubble at the sound of an alarm clock. The youthful face of JK invaded his thoughts once again, and he sighed. A man, boy even; a stranger with an odd quest and an endearing temper who had disappeared as quickly as he had come. Hoseok walked mindlessly in the long corridors back to his apartments. Was there any chance he would ever find JK again? The magic was gone, the Prince thought; but as he stepped into his room and found a little cream-coloured laid envelope placed on top of an unfamiliar shoe, a small smile bloomed on his tired features.

The magic was gone, but maybe he could try to bring it back.

The following day, Namjoon found Hoseok in his study, computer opened on the desk displaying multiple social media pages, and papers covered in Hoseok’s recognisable scribbling, most lines crossed out in red ink. The young Lord Chancellor closed the door quietly, sensing the frustration waving off his friend’s shoulders and back in growing waves.

“Hum”, Namjoon cleared his throat as softly as he could, “you called?” Hoseok jumped from his seat, startled, and almost got whiplash with how fast he turned around to face the blond.

“Jesus”, he groaned. “Don’t scare me like this.”

“Well, my name is Namjoon, actually, but—”

“Kim Namjoon, I’m gonna harvest your kneecaps if you’re not sitting next to me in the following two seconds.”

The Lord Chancellor lunged himself on the empty seat next to Hoseok, almost knocking it over in the process, and plopped his velvet-covered ass on the chair. His friend snorted but quickly furrowed his eyebrows again. Namjoon stared at him with probing eyes.

“So, what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

“My—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll stop now. Don’t harvest my kneecaps, please, I still need them for at least a good forty years.”

“You’re lucky I love you”, Hoseok grumbled, turning his gaze back on one of the computers’ screens.

“Love you too, Hobi”, Namjoon softly replied before leaning forward to inspect the screen. “Why are you looking up a… Jeon Jeongguk on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Youtube, Tik Tok, Snapchat— and even fucking LinkedIn? Really, Hobi, LinkedIn?”

“Shut up. It’s for professional stuff so you’re bound to be registered under your real name on there, right?”

“Yeah, probably, but who even is Jeon Jeongguk? Why are you—” Namjoon suddenly cut himself off, and a teasing smile made his way on his face, dimples even slightly peeking out. “Oooh wait, is that—”

“Don’t say it”, Hoseok warned to no avail.

“— your little eye candy?”

“I hate you.”

“You said you loved me about two minutes ago. I'm getting mixed signals, here.”

“I take it back. I’ll continue to hate you as long as you call him my eye candy.” Namjoon ignored Hoseok’s empty threat, clicking on the computer to look at the different tabs opened on the browser.

“I assume you didn’t find anything about this Jeon Jeongguk on social media”, he glanced at the Prince. “He must use only pseuds, or he’s not a social media kind of guy.”

“I looked up in our national university’s registration database, and even in the alumni section on our four national high school’s portals, but he’s not there.”

“Well, that means he’s probably younger than us. And he probably isn’t going to university either. Otherwise, he’d be somewhere around there. If he’s still a student, though, his name wouldn’t be displayed on the alumni section”, Namjoon thought out loud, eyes going wide at his own words. “Hobi!” he exclaimed, horrified. “What if he’s a minor? You can’t lay a finger on a high schooler!”

“I’m well aware”, the Prince groaned, “thank you for your support, Joon. That’s what I’ve been trying to find. I even called the principals of the schools earlier, to ask if they had a Jeon Jeongguk in their student body, but they all told me that they’ve never heard that name before. Then I thought he’d put his birthdate on his social media, but I can’t find him anywhere. I have an excellent memory though, so I’m sure I would have remembered his name if we had gone to the same school at some point.”

“You’ve got a point here, you do have an incredible memory. So, this guy is nowhere to be found on the internet, you don’t remember his name from anywhere, and there’s no track registration of him in any of the national high schools?”

“I might have checked the middle schools, too”, Hoseok mumbled and Namjoon stared at him in disbelief.

“Mister eye candy really hit you hard, didn’t he?”

“Shut up, oh my god.”

“Then, I only see one solution”, the Lord Chancellor stated solemnly. “But that’s even more reprehensible than stalking, which is what you’ve been doing for the past few hours, I assume.”

“I know, but you’ve got access to these files, Joon.”

“I do.”

“So, wouldn’t you help an old friend in need?” Hoseok pouted, batting his eyelashes at Namjoon who stared back unimpressed.

“You know I’ve gotten immune to these tricks long ago, right? We grew up together, that won’t work on me.”

“Come on, Joonie?” Hoseok pouted further. “I just— Fine”, he sighed, “I really do like him and I want to see him again because I admit I might have possibly developed a teeny tiny crush on him. Happy?”

“Delighted”, the blond beamed. “That’s what I wanted to hear, my best friend finally having a solid crush on someone.”

“It’s not a solid crush—”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, my Prince”, Namjoon teased, standing up and holding his hand out to Hoseok. “Come on, let’s snoop around in the Archives! We might find something. I really hope your eye candy is legal, though.”

“You’re seriously going to jinx me if you keep repeating that!”

The two men trailed off to another part of the Palace. The Archives looked like a massive library, where tons of paperwork had been stocked over the centuries. A group of quiet workers were sitting in a corner behind computer screens, some of them copying old records into a digital track, others actualising the paperwork of living, contemporary citizens. They all bowed respectfully to Namjoon and Hoseok upon their arrival before diving back into their tedious task.

Namjoon sat in front of a lone computer, Hoseok leaning on his friend’s back to look at the screen. The Lord Chancellor entered his ID and password, clicked on a few pages on the secured intranet holding all of their loyal citizens’ information, and typed Jeon Jeongguk in the search bar. A result popped up, and both men unconsciously leaned a bit forward.

“Jeon Jeongguk”, Namjoon read aloud in a careful whisper, not wanting to attract the archivers’ attention any more than necessary. “Born September 1st, 1997.” He grimaced and turned a sympathetic gaze towards Hoseok.

“He’s legal in a few months”, the Crown Prince shrugged to hide his disappointment. “We’re only three years apart.”

“Fair”, Namjoon agreed then resumed reading. “Only son of Jeon Sejin and Jeon, turned Kim, born Seo, Jihyeon. Wait, those names sound familiar.”

“Jeon Jihyeon?” Hoseok echoed, surprised. “She was a dancer. Really talented, really graceful. I used to beg Father to attend the ballet performances every time she was dancing, remember?”

“I remember. She passed away a few years ago, didn’t she? And her husband, Jeon Sejin, had died a few years prior. I didn’t know she had a child, though. Jeon Jeongguk must have been homeschooled.”

“I heard she’d married someone after her husband’s death”, Hoseok commented, unsure. “It says ‘Jeon, turned Kim’ on there.”

Namjoon clicked on Jeon Jihyeon’s name, opening up a new tab. They scrolled past her identity information to get to the legal documents. There was a first wedding certificate dated from July 1993, with Jeon Sejin, and another, much more recent, with a certain Kim Seokjin.

“Interesting”, Hoseok mused.

“What is?”

“Kim Seokjin. It might be the rising novelist, Kim Seokjin? I ran into his two sons yesterday night while trying to chase after JK — I mean, Jeon Jeongguk. And one of the sons told me they thought they had seen an acquaintance and they were trying to catch up to him.”

“Sounds like this acquaintance might have been Jeon Jeongguk”, Namjoon nodded. “If their dad married his mother a few years ago, that makes them step-brothers.”

“And then Jeon Jihyeon died. But would that mean that Jeon Jeongguk stayed with his step-family?”

“Why not?” Namjoon shrugged. “I talked a bit with Kim Seokjin yesterday, about his latest novel. He didn’t look like the type to throw orphans out. Anyway, this is the best shot you’ve got. His sons, Kim Jimin and Kim Taehyung”, he clicked on their names and their profiles appeared, “have not been registered to any schools either. They must all have been homeschooled.”

“You’re probably right. So, what’s Kim Seokjin’s address? I have something to give to Jeon Jeongguk, and he has something of mine, too.”

“Your heart?”

“Sometimes I really hate you”, Hoseok deadpanned, smacking Namjoon’s shoulder, the latter barely repressing an ugly snort. “Tell Mr Kang to prepare a car for right after lunch. You and I are going out this afternoon.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Another smack resounded in the quiet of the Archives, but none of the workers dared raise their heads in the direction of the Crown Prince and the Lord Chancellor.

— 👠 —

The sun was already quite high in the sky when Seokjin yawned, stretching his arms in front of him and popping his back muscles with a groan. He smiled softly, reminiscing the events of the night prior. The ball had been a pleasant change of scenery, one he didn’t know he even needed. He had seen his old friend Sandeul again, even danced a couple of times, and talked with some aristocrats and socialites. Including the King, who was eagerly waiting for his next novel, and the newly appointed Lord Chancellor. The latter had read all his novels, and they had found a common interest in modern poetry. Despite his young age, he carried himself with an endearing balance of humility and wisdom that even most elders didn’t possess. Indeed, Kim Namjoon was a charming man whose company Seokjin wouldn’t mind more often in the future.

Going out and “into the world”, or at least, some of it, had also benefited his sons. Jimin had always been slightly more outgoing than his twin, and his eldest hadn’t had any issues in taking part in conversations, be it about politics, arts, or even cooking. At the end of the night, it was safe to say that Jimin had made a few friends, and a positive image of himself into society. Taehyung had mostly stayed behind his twin, but still without being shadowed by Jimin. His shyness and bashfulness coupled with the good looks he had inherited from his parents — but mostly Jin’s, the novelist would tell you — had charmed ladies of all age, and he had even danced once with one of them. Jin had lost sight of them at some point, but he trusted his sons — grown-up sons — to do well on their own.

Jin wondered if he had made the right choice by homeschooling all of his children. He figured Jimin would do fine once he’d start working. Taehyung would probably have a bit more difficulty going out into society, but once he had warmed up to people, he would turn into the most charming and caring young man.

Truthfully, it’s Jeongguk Jin was the most worried about. The boy was almost done with high school, hell, he would be finished by the following week, but he had expressed no plans of studying further. Yet. At least, to Jin. Not that having no plans after graduating high school was a bad thing in itself! They were lucky enough to be comfortable with money, so the youngest could take all the time he needed to find his place in the world. Jin had been making sure to remind each of the children to always go at their own pace. If Jeongguk needed time, Jin would do everything to help him figure out what he wanted to do next. The problem was more on the communication part. Jeongguk seemed adamant in having as few “serious conversations” as possible with the rest of them. Since his mother’s death, which coincided with the real beginning of his adolescence, Jeongguk had grown distant and cold, and no amount of love Jin, Jimin and Taehyung gave him seemed to change anything.

Jin sighed, his heart heavy and sad at the thought. He couldn’t help but feel like he was failing Jihyeon, failing Jeongguk, and failing their family. Even if they weren’t related by blood, Jin did consider himself to be Jeongguk’s parent and loved him as much as his two other sons. He only wanted for Jeongguk to be happy, and to trust him, them, because they were family. Jin had planned to let Jeongguk take his time to cope with his feelings, and every other thing that came with teenagehood, but maybe that had been his mistake.

Maybe he had been too lenient, or maybe it came across as a lack of care from his part. Either way, Jeongguk would soon be graduating from high school, and would turn eighteen in a few months. Jin felt a sense of urgency that left a sour taste in his mouth and an uneasiness in his guts. If he didn’t have a talk, a real, serious, open-hearted talk with his youngest son soon enough, perhaps Jeongguk would disappear from the house one day to never be found ever again. That was something Jin couldn’t possibly allow, something that he would never forgive himself for. He had to talk to Jeongguk. The sooner the bett—

“Dad, dad!” Taehyung frantic shouts startled him, his son yanking the door of his bedroom open without even knocking, which was unusual and slightly alarming.

“What is it?” Jin immediately stood up and walked around his desk, concern gracing his features.

“It’s, uh. What time is it?” Jin frowned but checked his watch.

“A little after ten? Why? What’s the matter, Taehyung?”

“Something is missing”, the boy mumbled, frowning in distress. “Something’s not right today, something—”

“Dad?” Jimin’s head popped up from the doorway, his face still puffy from sleep but his eyebrows still furrowed in matching concern. “Oh Tae, you’re here, too. Did any of you see Jeongguk this morning?”

“Jeongguk!” Taehyung slapped a hand on his forehead, eyes wide with realisation. “That’s what was missing!”

“Jeongguk?” Jin frowned. “Come to think of it…”

He exchanged a look with both of his sons, then checked his watch again. Still a little after ten in the morning. They had come home late yesterday night, or rather, early today, and had gone to bed well after the teen. Jin had woken up at eight and had resumed working on his novel like most mornings, and the twins must have woken up not long ago. And Jeongguk, who had not attended the ball, should have woken up around six-thirty, as usual. Except that no one had seen nor heard Jeongguk all morning. Jin’s heart plummeted in his chest.

“Shit.”

He ran out to Jeongguk’s room, overwhelmed by an unsettling feeling. What if… The idea was stupid, of course, but he had just been thinking about Jeongguk possibly leaving the house right after his eighteenth birthday. But that couldn’t have been foreboding, could it?

“Jeongguk!” The novelist pounded at the bedroom door. “Jeongguk, are you in there? Are you okay? Jeongguk—”

“What—” the door swung open and Jin almost lost his balance, “—is it?”

Jin and the twins, who had followed their father, could only stare wordlessly at the unusual sight. Jeongguk, face puffy and eyes still heavy from sleep, head slightly downcast, was standing in front of them, half-hidden by his door. Jin felt an immediate sense of relief — the kid was still there, and he had obviously been asleep — but his concern didn’t disappear because Jeongguk had obviously been asleep. And there was no way Jeon Jeongguk would still be asleep at ten in the morning, unless…

“Are you okay? Do you feel sick?” Jin brought a frantic hand to the younger’s forehead, checking his temperature.

“Nuh, ‘m fine”, Jeongguk mumbled. Jimin’s eyes widened, and he looked at his brother with something akin to horror.

“You sure?” Taehyung inquired softly. “You look… exhausted.”

“Hmm, didn’t sleep well, is all.”

Jin, Jimin and Taehyung looked at each other, thoroughly distraught. Jeongguk’s eyes were still on the floor, his stance somewhat subdued. There was no talkback, no snarkiness in his tone, and above all, a compliance to Jin’s touch that they hadn’t witnessed in years. That, on top of everything else, alarmed the novelist further.

“You don’t seem to have a fever”, he frowned, his hand still on Jeongguk’s forehead, “but you do look exhausted and a little pale. I’ll make you breakfast with some good warm tea with honey, okay?”

The teen simply hummed, leaning on the doorframe, and the three of them were definitely thrown for a loop now. Jin glanced at Jimin, who nodded before carefully grabbing one of Jeongguk’s arms. Jin turned around and all but flew downstairs to the kitchen.

By the time his children came down, Jin had baked pancakes with bananas and strawberries cut into neat pieces, and was making some porridge on the side. Coffee was brewing in the coffee pot, and a teapot was steaming peacefully next to it. Jeongguk was shuffling his feet, almost defeatedly, pulled by his brothers who were holding one of his arms each. The scene would have been endearing to the novelist if the youngest’s behaviour wasn’t seriously worrying them all.

They all sat in relative silence, eating breakfast together like they hadn’t done in a long while. Even Yeontan, who had gotten out of Taehyung’s room at some point, was staring silently at Jeongguk and forgetting about his dog bowl full of delicious dog food. Jin couldn’t focus on his plate either, his eyes always eventually drawn to his youngest son, who was barely eating himself.

“Jeongguk”, he called out softly and the teen startled, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“I, uh, yeah. I’m, I’m just. I’m tired.”

“Are you feeling unwell? Did you catch a cold?”

“No, I just— Well, maybe?” Jeongguk answered unconvincingly, barely making eye contact with Jin.

“I’m cooking lunch today”, the novelist announced with finality. Jeongguk didn’t object. “What would you like for lunch?”

“Uh… Whatever.”

“Come on, Jeongguk, there’s nothing that you’d like to eat?”

“Maybe…” the teen mumbled, pouting. “Maybe your special sashimis…” He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna— I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Gukk—” Jimin started, but his twin cut him off.

“What happened to your knee?”

Everyone looked downwards at Taehyung’s question. Jeongguk’s knee was swollen, slightly red and purple. That looked like a nasty bruise, and Jin grimaced empathically at the phantom pain that woeful sight elicited to his own knee.

“N-Nothing”, Jeongguk visibly faltered. “I just, uh, watched a really scary horror movie yesterday, then I fell up the stairs while going to bed.” He shivered at the thought, shaking his head, while the three others stared at him suspiciously.

“It doesn’t hurt that much! I’m fine, I promise. Just tired. I’ll take a nap or something.”

And with those unsettling words, he left the three older males in the kitchen. Taehyung was gaping at Jimin, and Jin was blinking at the door through which Jeongguk had just gone through, his mug of coffee raised halfway to his mouth and seemingly forgotten in the air.

“Something’s definitely not right”, Taehyung muttered. “He woke up after us.”

“He didn’t object when you said you were making breakfast”, Jimin turned to their dad.

“Nor lunch.”

“He even asked for your sashimis?? He always said they weren’t fresh enough or something, and that we’d get a stomach ache someday.”

“And the horror movie?? Gukkie hates horror movies!”

“He wouldn’t even watch one with us! No way he’d have watched one when he was all alone in the house.”

“Agreed! Something’s not right”, Taehyung repeated. “He’s been all... subdued since morning. Like a feeble version of himself.”

“He didn’t even utter a single word about house chores!” Jimin was getting frantic. “Dad, that’s— I’m seriously worried.”

“Me too”, Jin sighed. “Maybe he really is tired? I’ll try to talk to him if it doesn’t get better after lunch. In the meantime, don’t bother him too much. I know you mean well, but maybe he really needs some rest.”

“But Dad—”

“It’s gonna be okay, Jimin”, the novelist offered a small smile to his sons. “It’s gonna be okay.”

The twins left the kitchen after washing their plates and cups, worry still plastered on their features. Jin sighed, getting up to finish washing the dishes before making a mental grocery list for sashimis. He didn’t know if those words were directed more towards his sons or towards himself. But either way, it was going to be okay. It had to be.

Jeongguk didn’t show up until lunch. None of the twins’ attempts to entertain him made him cross the threshold of his bedroom — not even Jimin’s offer to dust the library bookshelves together, or Taehyung’s inquiry about how to properly polish the silverware they reserved for special occasions. Overwatch, Super Smash Bros and Skyrim didn’t get any better results, and the twins finally gave up on coaxing Jeongguk out of his room. When he finally did, mainly because of Jin’s call for lunchtime, he didn’t seem much better, but he told them he had gotten some sleep. Jimin stared at his younger brother, unimpressed, but Jeongguk stuffed his face with sashimis and sushis to avoid looking at him.

The teen was wearing some light grey sweatpants and a powder blue sweater that was at least two sizes too big on him, positively drowning him in soft fabric. He was even wearing his round glasses. The contrast was his usual black attire was too jarring; he looked so much younger and softer that even Yeontan didn’t seem to know what to do about it.

The pup had first been running around Jeongguk’s chair before his paws were screeching to a comical halt, and since then the little ball of fur was silently watching the teen with his head cocked to the side. Sometime between dessert and coffee, Yeontan carefully nosed at Jeongguk’s leg, and the human softly scooped him up to put him in his lap. Taehyung gaped at his brother. Jeongguk ignored him. The elder was going to ask a question, but he got cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

The four of them looked at each other, puzzled. Even Yeontan didn’t bark and run to the door as he would normally do, sensing the unusualness of the situation. The doorbell rang again, its sound more piercing, more insistent.

“I’ll go get it”, Jimin finally stood up, as he was the one sitting the closest to the kitchen door.

Jin glanced at Taehyung, then at Jeongguk. They weren’t expecting anyone. Who could be at their door on a Sunday?

— 👞 —

Jimin opened the door to an unexpected sight. The sun was shining brightly, casting their visitor in a shadow created by the backlighting, and Jimin had to squint his eyes faintly. Then the newcomer stepped a bit forward, and their body shielded most of the light, allowing Jimin to finally see who was at their door. His jaw almost dropped. There, standing at the threshold of their manor, was probably the most handsome man Jimin had ever seen in his twenty years of life — actors from the many films he had watched included. The stranger bowed respectfully, a small smile gracing his stunning features, and Jimin blinked a few times before remembering he should probably bow back.

“Good afternoon”, the stranger then said, and his voice was soft like honey but assured and clear like the sound of the river rolling over pebbles, and Jimin almost fainted. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“O-Oh, n-no! You’re not!”

“Is this, by any chance, the residence of Mister Kim Seokjin?”

“Hum, it is”, Jimin nodded, still a bit dazed. The stranger looked thoroughly relieved at his answer. “M-May I ask who is enquiring about him?”

“Oh”, the man said, seemingly a bit surprised. “I guess we missed each other at the ball yesterday, I’m—”

“Jimin?” Jin’s approaching voice interrupted them, the man himself soon coming into view. “Are you okay? What’s taking you so lon— Oh, Lord Chancellor!” He bowed, and the newcomer bowed back with a smile.

“Mister Kim, good afternoon.”

“What a surprise!” Jin smiled, shaking the Lord Chancellor’s hand, and Jimin’s mouth hung open in shock. “I must say, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“Y-You’re the Lord Chancellor?” Jimin blinked, astounded, making the two men turn their heads to him.

“I am”, the tall blond smiled. “Is that surprising?”

“N-No, I just— I thought— The letter…” Jimin fumbled with his words under the amused gaze of his father. “I pictured the Lord Chancellor as, uh, an old and uptight man— Which, obviously, you are not.”

Jin and the Lord Chancellor burst out laughing, and Jimin trailed his gaze on the ground, blushing furiously.

“I hope you won’t take offence”, the novelist sent their guest an apologetic grin. “My sons and I are quite sheltered away from the world here. We’re not particularly up to date with everything going on nowadays.”

“None taken, please be assured.”

“My apologies”, Jimin mumbled, eventually daring to look at the Lord Chancellor. The man was smiling warmly at him, and oh god, he had dimples.

“I just have to properly introduce myself, then. My name is Kim Namjoon, and I’m the newly appointed Lord Chancellor. I took over my father’s duties a few months ago.”

Namjoon held his hand out for Jimin to shake, and the younger man couldn’t help but notice how big his hand was compared to his own. They also fit together perfectly, and Jimin felt like dying inside a little more. This man was a literal dream.

“I must say again, to see the Lord Chancellor at our doorstep is a very unexpected sight. Please, come in!” Jin opened the door wider in an invitation to let the man inside. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Oh, right. I was wondering if Jeon Jeongguk was here with you?”

Jin and Jimin exchanged a surprised glance, before turning their gazes on Namjoon. The man was still at the threshold, not fully inside but not fully outside either. What business could the Lord Chancellor have with Jeongguk?

“He is”, Jin finally replied. “Is something the matter? Why do you need to speak to him?”

“Actually”, Namjoon scratched his nape lightly, “I’m not the one wishing to have a word with him.”

He turned his eyes on the car behind him — a luxurious black Rolls Royce with tinted windows — as one of the doors opened. Jin and Jimin’s eyes widened. The Crown Prince, dressed casually but still effortlessly good-looking, was stepping out of the car and nonchalantly walking towards their door.

“Oh my—! Your Highness!” Jin gasped, bowing to a full ninety degree, imitated by Jimin.

“Mister Kim, Jimin”, Hoseok bowed back, smiling. “Please, no need to be formal. We’re coming as friends, I would hope.”

“Of course,” the novelist replied. “Please, come inside!”

Jin ushered their visitors further into the house, Jimin closing the front door and taking a second to breathe. Kim Namjoon was devastatingly handsome and Jimin was most likely not fine. How could he have missed the embodiment of perfection as a man during the ball?

His father’s voice brought him quickly back to reality, and he walked to the main living room. The Lord Chancellor and the Crown Pr— Namjoon and Hoseok were sitting on a sofa, side by side, facing a wide-eyed Taehyung who was petrified on the opposite loveseat. Jimin came to sit beside his twin, discreetly taking his hand and squeezing a little. Or, well, maybe not so discreetly after all, because when he lifted his gaze, the Lord Chancellor was staring at their hands with a small smile. Jimin brought his hand back on his lap, blushing. Namjoon didn’t break eye contact and offered him another of his warm smiles.

Jin came a few seconds later, carrying a tray with cups of coffee and tea, a sugar bowl, and a plate full of cookies and candied fruits.

“I apologise for the mess”, he sighed, sitting down on an armchair next to his sons. “We weren’t expecting any visitors today.”

“Oh no, we’re the ones who should apologise for our impromptu visit”, Hoseok shook his head, taking in the spotless living room they were in. “Your home is lovely. Nice colours, tastefully decorated.”

“Thank you”, Jin gestured to his sons, “Taehyung is actually the one who redecorated the living room last year.” Hoseok and Namjoon nodded appreciatively, and the younger blushed. Jimin was watching the Lord Chancellor, who caught him peering, and winked. Jimin faltered, blushed, and nearly choked on his coffee.

“Taehyung”, Jin continued to divert the general attention off his firstborn, “where is Jeongguk? Our visitors wish to speak to him.”

“He went upstairs in his room a while back. Should I go get him?”

“Please.”

Taehyung scurried away, leaving Jin and Jimin to entertain their guests. Hoseok seemed nervous for some reason, smiling politely to Seokjin who was smiling and nodding back in acknowledgement. Namjoon couldn’t take his eyes off Jimin, a small smile on his lips, and the younger was burying his face in his cup to avoid his gaze.

Soon enough, Taehyung was back in the living room, pulling a reluctant Jeongguk by the wrist. Yeontan was trailing after them, still silent but curious. Namjoon cooed when he saw the tiny Pomeranian, and Taehyung nodded when he asked if he could pet him. The pup jumped on the Lord Chancellor’s lap and let himself be pampered.

Hoseok had locked his eyes on Jeongguk as soon as the teen had appeared. The Prince stood up, his face brightened.

“Jeon Jeongguk?”

The younger startled at his name and hastily bowed, not making eye contact with any of the visitors. Jin frowned.

“Hum. Yes. That’s me.”

“It really is you”, Hoseok whispered in awe, taking a step forward. Jeongguk scooted back, eyes still fixed on the thick blue carpet.

“I, uh—”

“You were the one I talked with last night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, he shook his head.

“I wasn’t sure, because it was dark and I couldn’t get a good look at your face, but I could recognise your voice.”

“I don’t know, I don’t—” Jeongguk took another step back. “It wasn’t me.”

“It was you!” Hoseok insisted, turning to Jimin and Taehyung as if to ask for help.

“But Jeongguk wasn’t at the ball last night”, Jin mused, a light frown on his face.

“I saw him, I’m sure it was him. Your sons saw him, too. Didn’t you?” Jimin and Taehyung looked at each other, then at Jeongguk, and finally at the Crown Prince.

“Well, we thought we’d seen him”, Jimin started, “but we couldn’t make sure…”

“And Jeongguk didn’t leave with us for the ball yesterday”, Taehyung added. “He insisted on staying home.”

“How odd”, Namjoon mused from where he was sitting, Yeontan still in his lap. “There seems to be a mystery or a misunderstanding somewhere.”

“I wasn’t at the ball last night”, Jeongguk bravely lifted his head, only to trail his eyes back on the carpet when he met the Prince’s piercing gaze.

“I’m sure it was you”, the latter objected. “I gave you one of my shoes, and I have one of yours. The one you left on the stairs.”

As if magically summoned, Namjoon took out a small bag, and Hoseok took out a lone shoe from it. Jin and the twins stood up and walked closer to inspect it. They didn’t recognise the shoe, nor the brand. They stared at the item with perplexity.

“I’m sorry, Your Hi— Prince Hoseok, but this is not Jeongguk’s shoe”, the novelist carefully spoke up.

“I don’t recognise it either”, Taehyung shook his head.

“See?” Jeongguk tried to clear his throat but it still came out more like a croak. “It’s not mine. I wasn’t there.”

“You have one of my shoes, though”, the Prince argued, undeterred. “I gave it to you as a souvenir of our special encounter.” The youngest gulped but shook his head in denial.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Your Highness.”

“I told you, just ‘Hoseok’ is fine. Here”, the royal took out another lone shoe from the bag. “My shoe looks like this. I gave you the other one.”

Taehyung and Jimin frowned, a glint of recognition on their eyes. The blond reached hesitantly, as if to take the shoe, and Hoseok handed it to him.

“Wait… This one seems familiar? Doesn’t it, Tae?” Jimin passed the shoe to his brother, who frowned. Jin watched both of his sons inquiringly.

“So?” Hoseok turned to Jeongguk, who was looking at the shoe with wide eyes, accented further by his glasses. “Does this ring a bell?”

“I, no, I don’t—”

Yeontan suddenly barked, making all of their heads turn to look at him. The puppy was staring at them, his head cocked to the side and his thick eyebrows seemingly frowning at the scene. He growled, then jumped off of Namjoon’s lap and dashed towards the stairs with a series of continuous barks. Jeongguk’s eyes widened further if that was even possible. The teen looked like he was about to run after the little dog, but stopped himself. He sighed, going back to inspecting the carpet. His fingers were fiddling nervously with his sweater paws, which didn’t go unnoticed to Jin and Hoseok. Taehyung had gone up the stairs too, probably trying to go after Yeontan, and Namjoon and Jimin were busy stealing glances at each other.

“Jeongguk”, Seokjin called his youngest son softly. “Did something happen last night that I should know about?”

Jeongguk’s head snapped up to him, but before he could reply, Yeontan barrelled back into the living room, holding something in his mouth. He deposited it at Hoseok’s feet before sitting back and yapping proudly, his little ears twitching. Taehyung came back a few seconds later, his breath a bit short.

“Yeontan!” he exclaimed, picking up his pet and the object — a shoe? — in his hands. “What did you— What’s this?”

All eyes turned to the item Taehyung was holding. It was, indeed, a shoe. One that looked uncannily similar to the one Hoseok had presented as his royal shoe. Namjoon got up to get a closer look at the now reconstituted pair.

“What— How—?” Jimin exclaimed, puzzled. The Pomeranian offered a contented yap and a lick on Jimin’s fingers in response.

“Where on Earth did you find this?” Jin asked Yeontan, petting his head curiously.

“I caught him running out of Jeongguk’s room”, Taehyung supplied. All eyes turned to the youngest, who blushed.

“So?” Hoseok pressed. “Are you still going to continue denying it was you I talked with yesterday night?”

“I, I’m—” Jeongguk looked nothing less than a deer caught in headlights. His fingers were trembling around the hem of his sweater sleeves, his stance went from defensive to resigned. He blushed a darker shade of red and refused to make eye contact with any of them.

Jin thought of his unusual and worrying behaviour since this morning, and it seemed to make sense. Jeongguk had gone to the ball without their knowledge, had run into the Crown Prince, and something had happened. Something important enough that it scared the boy. The novelist frowned. He didn’t know why Hoseok had sought Jeongguk, but he certainly wouldn’t let his youngest son be harmed or taken away from him. Although the Prince didn’t seem angry with Jeongguk in the slightest. If anything, he seemed relieved and oddly pleased to see him.

“Jeongguk?” Jin tried again, placing a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “You can tell us anything. It’s okay if you went to the ball. Even if you didn’t tell us. It’s okay. We’re not mad at you.”

“It’s not— It’s not that”, he whispered, fiddling with his sweater paws.

“What is it, then?”

“But did you, or did you not, go to the ball yesterday?” Jimin inquired curiously. “And don’t lie, please.”

“I did…”

“So it was really you that we saw back then?” Jimin insisted.

“It was me. I was— I came late, and then I met the Prince on a terrace of a room away from the ball. We, uh, talked for a while, and then I ran away because I heard your voices.”

“Why did you run away?” Taehyung pouted, obviously hurt. “We could have enjoyed the ball all together…”

“I just— I panicked.” Jeongguk looked up apologetically at his brother. “I’m sorry.”

Jin, Jimin and Taehyung stared at him in stupefaction. This was definitely a weird and unsettling day. Lately, Jeongguk never apologised for hurting Taehyung’s feelings by refusing to spend time together.

“It— It’s okay.”

The brothers kept staring at each other sheepishly. Jin was looking back and forth between all his sons, all pensive. Hoseok and Namjoon felt like intruding on a private moment. The Prince almost felt bad when he took out yet another shoe from the bag and cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.

“It seems that you probably have private matters to discuss, so I’ll try to be quick and not bother you further.”

He held out the shoe to Jeongguk, whose mouth fell open.

“Is it…?”

“It is”, he nodded. “I asked my father if it was okay to give it to you, and he said yes.”

“We don’t have any use for it at the Palace”, Namjoon supplied. “And without the other one, this object doesn’t have any worth.”

“So you can have it, but only if you do something for me in return.”

“Of course”, the teen sighed.

“A deal for another deal”, Hoseok shrugged. “I won’t ask for much.”

“Jeongguk”, Jin frowned, “what is this all about? What deal?”

“What?” Jimin said at the same time, turning to Hoseok, then to Namjoon. “What are you talking about?”

Jeongguk opened his mouth to answer, but a deafening crack and a flash of light startled the little group. Taehyung and Jin instinctively clung to each other. Jimin clutched Namjoon’s arm in surprise. Hoseok yelped and nearly dropped the shoe, hiding behind Jeongguk.

In the middle of the living room, dressed in a blue and white tunic with embroideries distinctive of fairies, Yoongi was dusting his shoulder and straightening his clothes. When he was seemingly satisfied with his appearance, he trailed his eyes onto his surroundings. He took in the space, the furniture, the Jeongguk and Hoseok still huddled together. His face broke into a little smirk.

“Jeongguk. Getting cosy with royalty, I see?”

The teen jumped away from Hoseok as if he had been burned, a furious blush adorning his cheeks. Hoseok’s cheeks were of a similar shade. Yoongi snorted.

“So, did you get the shoe?”

Jeongguk turned his head towards Hoseok, who was still holding the magical item. The Crown Prince looked him in the eyes expectantly. The teen sighed, rolled his eyes, and finally nodded. Hoseok smiled, thoroughly pleased, and handed him the shoe. Jeongguk carefully took it, shivering imperceptibly when his fingers touched Hoseok’s. He then gave the shoe to Yoongi, and the fairy beamed.

“Yesss! Thank you, kiddo!” He jumped around in a funny little dance that absolutely didn’t match the state of bewilderment the humans were in. “Your quest is accomplished and the deal is fulfil—”

Yoongi’s sentence abruptly stopped on a choke. In his excitement, the fairy had turned around almost to a complete circle and his eyes had landed on Taehyung. From where he was standing, Taehyung’s silhouette was surrounded by a halo, thanks to the backlighting from the window behind him. He looked every bit like an angel. Yoongi’s mouth dropped open and the shoe fell from his grasp.

“Oh my god.”

Taehyung looked equally beguiled. His eyes were fixed on Yoongi’s unblemished face, unblinking, and mouth gaping like a fish. Jin glanced at his son, then at the fairy. Their interaction was probably the perfect depiction of “love at first sight”, a literal coup de foudre — courtesy of their latest guest, who had appeared out of nowhere in a thunderbolt. Fairies were known for their flashy entrances, but this one definitely topped the charts.

Although the definition of “love at first sight” could also apply to Jimin and Namjoon, who had stopped holding onto each other but kept stealing lovestruck glances when they thought no one was watching. His eldest son was very much like a fool in love; but the Lord Chancellor, who was aware of his antics, seemed especially keen on indulging them, and kept watching Jimin with a mix of fondness and endearment.

And then, there was Hoseok and Jeongguk. The Crown Prince hadn’t stopped fixing his intense gaze on his youngest son, watching his every move with wonder. And Jeongguk, who was behaving very out of character since the morning, was slowly getting off his shy bean state and growing bolder by the second. The boy was chewing on his lips and had finally lifted his eyes off the carpet, choosing to hold Hoseok’s gaze instead.

“Okay”, Jin clapped in his hands and all the youngsters seemed to snap back to reality, cheeks adorning various states of redness. Fifty shades of blush. The novelist almost snorted. “I don’t know what on Earth is happening in my house right now, but I think it’s time for all of us to sit down and have a good talk.”

Everyone complied silently. Jimin and Taehyung huddled on the loveseat. Namjoon and Hoseok sat back on the sofa, opposite the twins. Jin sat on the armchair next to his sons and pointed out the armchair facing his to Jeongguk. The teen sat obediently, now almost next to Hoseok. Yoongi chose to stay standing, making a white opaque globe of light appear in his hands instead. When the orb took shape fully, he let it levitate and retrieved the abandoned magical shoe on the ground. He put it carefully inside the globe, next to the other shoe, and the orb brightened before disappearing in a pop.

“There”, the fairy clapped his hands, satisfied, before turning to the little assembly. “A good talk, you said, Mister Kim Seokjin.”

“Do you know me? Us?” the novelist asked curiously.

“I knew Jihyeon”, the shorter male replied, “and I actually came here last night. Jeongguk and I had a little talk. I’m sorry about your loss. I had no idea, I was away at the Academy.”

“I— Thank you.” Jin nodded to Yoongi. “You said you were here last night?”

“Yes. Long story short, I had made a deal with Jihyeon. We were to retrieve one magical shoe each, and yesterday was the day we were supposed to meet. Obviously, she wasn’t there. I met Jeongguk instead. As his son, he agreed to complete the task she didn’t get to finish and fulfil her end of the deal.”

“You mean you forced me to do it”, Jeongguk mumbled.

“Did I really”, the fairy deadpanned, unimpressed. “I didn’t force you to do anything, kiddo. You agreed to help on your own. You could very well have said no.”

“As if!”

“You could, yet you didn’t. You have a good heart, Jeongguk.”

“Whatever”, the teen grumbled. “You smooth bastard.”

“Anyway”, Yoongi rolled his eyes. “As I was saying. The shoe Jihyeon was supposed to collect was at the Palace, so Jeongguk went there and tried to look for the shoe.”

“So that’s why you went to the Palace?” Jimin asked. “To get the shoe? Not for the ball?”

“Yes.”

“Oh”, Taehyung looked somewhat dejected.

“I was taking a break from the party on a terrace when Jeongguk came”, Hoseok took over. “I knew he hadn't been to the party because I have an excellent visual memory. Eventually, he told me about the deal, and we were bargaining a deal of our own when Jimin and Taehyung interrupted us. Jeongguk flew away. I requested Namjoon’s help to find his identity, we found the invitation he had lost somewhere in the Palace — that’s how we found his name.”

“And the rest is history”, Namjoon completed. “And now that Mister Fairy has the shoe, the deal is sealed. All's well that ends well.”

“Well”, Yoongi chuckled, “not quite yet.”

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk tensed. “I did complete your quest. I mean, I didn’t exactly retrieve the shoe myself, but you got it in the end!”

“Yeah, no, I wasn’t talking about that”, Yoongi smiled sweetly. “I’m talking about that little blue notebook in the bottom drawer of your desk.” Jeongguk’s eyes widened.

“What— Why are you bringing that up?” he hissed, purposefully ignoring Jin and Hoseok’s inquisitive gazes.

“Kid, you gotta tell them. Man up and spill your heart. You can’t live like this, it doesn’t make you happy.”

“What is he talking about, Jeongguk?” Jin perked up, frowning. “What doesn’t make you happy?”

“Nothing, it’s fine—”

Yoongi cleared his throat, his disapproving eyes trailed on the teen. The latter stood up and crossed his arms, glaring at him. The fairy slowly raised his arm, fingers looking ready to snap. Jeongguk imperceptibly shook his head. Yoongi cocked a challenging eyebrow at him. They kept staring at each other defiantly. The fairy finally snapped his fingers and a blue notebook appeared in front of him.

“I’m doing this for you, Jeongguk. And also because I feel indebted to your mother. She wouldn't want you to live your life like this.”

“Fine”, the boy relented with a sigh. “I’ll tell them. Just— Please, don’t.”

Yoongi nodded and grasped the tattered notebook firmly in his hand. Jeongguk looked back and forth between Jin and the twins, who were clearly worried about him.

“What’s in this notebook… It’s, uh. My thoughts. After mom’s death. It’s kinda stupid, but I was somewhat scared you’d leave me, too. One day. Like my dad, a long time ago, and then like my mom. I just thought, if I distanced myself from you, it wouldn’t hurt that much if— if something happened. And I guess I wanted to prove to myself I was capable of living alone. As in, I can take care of a house by myself. At first, I just wanted to prove it, but I ended up liking it. House chores. It made me— It was my way to cope, I guess? Just like Jin gets lost in his writing sometimes, or Jimin in watching movies, or Tae in painting. So, yeah. I used to think like that, and then it kinda turned into a habit?”

“Oh, Jeongguk”, Jin got up and stood in front of his youngest son, taking his sweater paws in his hands. “It’s not stupid. You went through a lot for your age. You lost both your parents. It’s okay to have feelings. Don’t ever apologise for having feelings. I just wish you would have talked more to us instead. You lost your parents, but you are not alone. We’re here as well. Jimin, Tae and I. We might not be blood-related, but we’re still family.”

“I know”, Jeongguk gulped. “I know, that’s why— I didn’t want to lose you, too. I didn’t want to hurt again”, he added in a small voice.

“Oh, Gukk…” Jin sighed, wrapping his arms around the younger’s shaking frame.

They both grunted when a heavy something slammed with them. Taehyung plastered himself against Jeongguk’s back, burying his nose in the dip of his neck. Jeongguk felt something wet against his jaw — was Taehyung crying? Jimin was at his side, one arm against his twin, and one around his — their father’s shoulder.

“We’re here for you, dummy”, Taehyung’s muffled voice came out from somewhere inside the group hug. “We’re not going anywhere!”

“Taetae’s right”, Jimin sniffled, his own voice cracking at the end of his sentence. “You’re stuck with us forever now, so you better deal with it!”

“We’ll always be here for you”, Jin added, squeezing his youngest son tighter. “Your brothers are here, and I never intended to replace your father, but I’m here, too. As a guardian, as a confident, as whatever you want to see me as. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

“T-Thank you”, Jeongguk sniffled. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“We love you too, dumbass.”

“Jimin! Be nice!”

“He deserved it!”

“I did”, Jeongguk smiled through his tears. “I was a dumbass, but now I’m done being one. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay”, Jin whispered, his own eyes a little damp. “It took you some time to figure out your feelings, it’s okay. You needed it. It needed to happen that way. We can spend time with each other now.”

“Yeah”, Taehyung chimed in. “You can make up for all the times you refused to do something with me and Jiminie.”

“I will. I missed you guys so much…”

“We missed you too, Gukk.”

“You really are a dumbass.”

“Jimin!”

“What? I’m just stating fac— ouuuuch!”

Jeongguk laughed as Jimin massaged the back of his head with a pout — Jin had smacked him in mock annoyance. They all took a step back, releasing each other from their grasp. Jeongguk hugged his brothers once more.

“I love you guys.”

He then turned to Jin, sniffling and dabbing his sleeve on his damp eyes before lunging forward in another bone-crushing hug. Jin yelped but caught his youngest son in his arms, one hand coming up to ruffle his soft brown hair.

“I love you, Dad”, he whispered to Jin’s ear, like a secret, and the older felt a lone tear rolling down his cheek.

“I love you too, Gukk”, he whispered back and discreetly wiped the tear from his face.

When they parted, the novelist turned to Yoongi, who was making small talk with Namjoon and Hoseok to give the little family a semblance of privacy.

“Mister Fairy.”

Yoongi turned his head to Jin and offered him a small smile.

“Goodness, I forgot! I apologise for not introducing myself sooner. I obviously know who you are, but you don’t know anything about me. My name is Min Yoongi.”

“Min Yoongi”, Seokjin repeated with a smile. “I can’t thank you enough for what you just did. We all needed to have that conversation, but we were all too scared to open up and communicate. Today, you gave us, and especially Jeongguk, the courage to do so. Thank you for allowing us to sort out our family matters. We are forever indebted to you.”

“Oh no, please”, Yoongi waved his hands. “I didn’t do much. Jeongguk did most of the work. I just gave him a little push. Plus, he’s the one who actually helped me by finding the shoe. If anything, I’m the one indebted to you.”

“Well, let’s agree that we’re mutually indebted to each other.”

“That sounds good to me”, the fairy chuckled. “I’ll have to visit you often to repay my debt.”

“I would very much like it”, Jin smiled. “And I think I’m not the only one…” he added, nudging Taehyung with the elbow. The boy blushed.

“I’d like it very much if we could become friends”, he mumbled. “Like, close friends. Or more. You know. Step by step.”

“That would be an honour”, Yoongi replied, taking Taehyung’s hands in his own. They both looked at each other shyly, pink dusting their cheeks. Jin decided to leave them alone for now and turned his head to his other children.

Namjoon had apparently given his handkerchief to Jimin, the latter a bit abashed for having cried in front of their guests, and they were now arguing on the piece of cloth.

“You can keep it!” Namjoon was saying. “I have tons of others at the Palace.”

“I really can’t accept”, Jimin shook his head. “I feel like I’d steal something from you. Let me return it to you once I’ve washed it.”

“I insist, Jimin. I’d li— It’d make me happy if you kept it.”

“O-Oh. Really?”

“Yeah…” Namjoon blushed, but then looked at the shorter male expectantly. “But you know, if you still want to repay me…”

“Yes?” came the reply, eager.

“You could, maybe, give me your number. If you want. It’s totally okay if you don’t.”

“I—” Jimin’s blush rivalled Namjoon’s. His firstborn clutched the handkerchief tightly, as if it was a lifeline. “I don’t mind. At all. C-Could you, hum, give me your phone?”

The Lord Chancellor searched his pockets for his phone, and Jimin typed his number in it. Jin smiled and turned his head to the last couple — and the youngest of his sons. Hoseok was still gazing at Jeongguk while the other was aggressively picking at the hem of his sleeves. Unbeknownst to him, the movement jostled his sweater downwards, revealing a bit of his collarbones, and the Prince looked at the verge of having a mental breakdown. Jin almost snorted.

“Hoseok”, Namjoon’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The tall blond had his phone in one hand, and had operated a gentle but firm squeeze on his friend’s shoulder. “We should probably get going. Our business is done, and we’re intruding on a family moment. I’m sure they have still more to talk about.”

“You’re right”, the royal nodded, smiling at Jeongguk, then Jin and the twins. “We’ll take our leave, but before that…”

“Hoseok”, Namjoon groaned.

“Nah, let him”, Yoongi intervened. “I think it’s gonna be worth it.”

Hoseok turned to Jeongguk, a small smile on his face and a playful glint in his eyes. Jeongguk blushed, looking away at first but finding himself drawn to that endearing smile when the Prince called his name. He admittedly liked the way it sounded when Hoseok pronounced it, with unbridled fondness and some sort of deference.

“What?” he pouted, and Hoseok’s smile got bigger.

“You still owe me something for giving you the shoe. You said you’d agree to anything, yesterday.”

“Would you look at that”, Yoongi singsonged. “What was that, that you said to me yesterday, Jeongguk? That you always kept your word?”

“Ugh”, the boy groaned, glaring daggers at the fairy who was enjoying himself a little too much — just like Namjoon, actually, but the latter was out of Jeongguk’s line of sight. “I did say I would agree to anything. Okay, so what do you want? My Prince?” he added as an afterthought, and Hoseok almost snorted.

“It came to my attention that your birthday would be in a few months. Your eighteenth birthday, at that. This is a big step. I wish to celebrate it with you. So, would you go on a date with me then, Jeon Jeongguk?” he decided to ask instead, taking one of the younger’s hands in his own.

“A— A d-date?” Jeongguk blushed, sputtering, but he didn’t pull out of Hoseok’s grasp.

“It’s only fair, after all”, the Prince explained innocently. “I spent time looking for the shoe, and then to search for your whereabouts…”

“I guess you do need to repay some of his time, Gukk”, Jimin snickered.

“Yeah, go for it!” Taehyung cheered, his own hand somehow now in Yoongi’s.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes at his older brothers’ antics, then turned to Hoseok. He stared at his unwavering warm brown gaze, then at their linked hands. He shyly placed his other hand on top of Hoseok’s, still blushing, and squeezed lightly.

“Okay. I want to spend my birthday with my family first, but I will gladly go on a date with you afterwards.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

“And that’s our happy ending!” Yoongi beamed, blessing the assembly with one of his infectious gummy smiles. “You should be grateful, kiddo. In the end, it’s all thanks to me and the magical shoes.”

Jin let out a cough that looked strangely like a laugh, while the others were busy cheering and hooting in the background. Hoseok chuckled, looking adoringly at Jeongguk’s face, while the younger groaned and rolled his eyes again at the fairy.

“Shut the fuck up, Yoongi.”