Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Prince Jongin, please watch your words.” Luhan sounds scandalized, but the Prince just rolls his eyes.

“Please, Luhan, don’t be so formal. We’re friends. It’s just Jongin for you.”

“You’re still of royalty, My Prince, and I am not. Please don’t make me remind you all the time,” Luhan retorts, her voice not showing how tired she must be, leading the same discussion over and over again. Though, maybe it’s just Jongin being tired of this.

“Please accept that you are of a higher rank, Your Royalty,” she adds, highlighting his title only to further annoy him.

And is that why you think I would be too good for you?, lies on the tip of his tongue, but he gulps it down. Oh, how much Jongin hates Luhan’s newfound attitude and with it her new perspectives on life and everything else. Jongin has never liked how Luhan keeps her distance by addressing him so formally. Not even once has she treated him like the childhood friends they were ever since she came back from her studies abroad.

Jongin and Luhan practically grew up together; the tanned male clinging on to his beloved noona whenever she came to visit him in the too big Royal Mansion. Traditionally, the Royal Family would have to live in Gyeongbok Palace, but with time the buildings were deemed not modern and comfortable enough for people of their ranks, and so the Palace is now a mere monument and sign of the country’s royalty and all its past glory. Sometimes ceremonies are held there, but apart from public demonstrations on certain occasions, the Palace remains as tourist attraction only now.

Jongin remembers the first time they met was there, at the Royal Palace, on his father’s, the King’s 35th birthday. Luhan had worn a colorful hanbok, but despite her classy appearance, she ran around freely, just as any of the children did. What captured him though, was her more than bright smile and her eyes, curious and challenging. It was then Jongin decided that if he had to choose his queen - like his mother had told him so often, God bless her deceased soul – he would choose Luhan. Jongin was only seven years old at that time, but his mind didn't change even once, at least not when concerning this matter, in all the years to follow.

Jongin had missed the Chinese girl a lot during those four, five years she spent in Beijing. Not even once did Luhan come back for vacation, and the only thing he got were a few e-mails and even rarer calls and skype sessions. She was too busy studying and keeping up her good grades. And when Luhan came back, she wasn’t the lovely girl, bursting with youthful mischief and mirth anymore. She had matured, becoming more beautiful if possible, but unfortunately politically over-correct like her minister father and too polite, stiff even, to an extent Jongin felt alienated at first. On occasion though, he still got a taste of her bluntness. After all, one couldn’t fight one’s own nature. And when he thinks of all the circumstances, considering his own status as Crown Prince, she is more than perfect: outwardly a role model, while with him, she would be herself. That is all Jongin needs.

Unfortunately, all his dreams were shattered into pieces when he noticed the ring on her finger. Luhan was engaged, and Jongin only realized when he met both Luhan and her fiancé, a month after her return. And the worst thing is that the fiancé was not some unknown stranger, but one of Jongin’s cousins, the pride of Uncle Junmyeon, his father’s younger brother. Rumors say the public prefers him over Jongin, the Crown Prince, because he is seemingly more capable, more diligent, more intelligent. At the age of twenty, Jongdae had already earned himself degrees in philosophy and international relations, and now he was taking his career even further. Jongdae had been sent to Seoul. To support Prince Jongin, once he is taking over the reign, Uncle Junmyeon had said with a smile. Jongin could see how much his uncle tried to fight off the urge to ruffle the Crown Prince’s hair. It would be an inacceptable act, now that Jongin was not a cute, little child but a nearly grown up, nearing his eighteenth birthday.

“You have been close friends before,” Jongdae interjects then, knowing exactly why Jongin is so upset. He agrees with Luhan though, an arm slung around her slim waist as he walks close to her, Jongin on her other side. “But since we are in public now, you should watch your words, Prince Jongin.”

If Jongin had been thankful for the first comment, he couldn’t be any more displeased with the second one. Of course Jongdae is just as overcorrect as Luhan is. It probably rubbed off on her because she spent too much time together with him in Beijing. Sometimes Jongin wonders if Luhan had been busy with studies or if she had been busy going out with his cousin. It’s a fact Jongin refuses to accept, even now, with their wedding just a few weeks back, as he is still pacing around his room sometimes, restless, with the red circled date on his desk calendar still screaming at him. He has yet to turn to the next month.

And maybe it is because he has chosen to refuse to do anything that comes from those two, that he doesn’t listen and walks straight up to the person who has piqued his interest during one of their rare walks into town, the one he has meant with his comment on extinction. No, not an animal was meant, but a human being. The one and only and probably last beggar in South Korea. And they should really not exist, when the government has spent so much money on welfare.

“You’re an eyesore to our beautiful capital. I didn’t know we still had people like you here. Leave and stop uglifying our beautiful country.”

Both Luhan and Jongdae are flanking his sides immediately, trying to pull him away, but the deed is done. There is a ruckus, as people focus on them, coming closer to watch the scene.

The boy in front of them is filthy. His clothes are ragged, barely appropriate to walk around in. His hair is too long and strawy, tangled in knots. And the smell! Jongin wrinkles his nose. While he has seen beggars on his various travels around the world, he has always been proud of his nation for being clean and modern, nice and chic, always presentable to the whole world to see, yet he has found a flaw in his perfect world.

“You’re joking, Prince Jongin,” Jongdae says with a forced smile. “You actually want to help, right?”

If his cousin thinks Jongin will do what he expects, he is utterly wrong.

“Help? There’s no way to help someone like that,” he says, laughing right into the other’s face. He knows that beggar must be stupid, maybe mental, because who in their right mind would choose to live on the streets when there were places built and operated for orphans and the homeless?

Jongin watches the boy’s reaction with some sort of fascination. The boy is clenching his fists and gulping, obviously agitated by the Prince’s actions, yet he doesn’t make a move. Jongin wants to provoke him more, letting out all of his pent up frustration, because he can’t possible hurt Luhan or Jongdae or any of his fellowmen and women. But this is not one of his people. Jongin refuses to see an outcast as part of this society, someone who chose to oppose the Crown and its good deeds, part of this country, of the group of people he has to love and protect, and so Jongin has no shame calling the other out as ugly and a shame to the proud nation of South Korea. Only when he is met with silence, the people around him not laughing along to his jokes but staring at him incredulously, does he stop and turn around. He flees the scene with hurried steps, Jongdae and Luhan following close up. He has messed up.

“Jongin!”

The moment he enters the auditorium, the Prince knows he is doomed. The King, usually cool and composed, shows clear signs of agitation. He has been pacing, advisors and subordinates standing in the too big room, watching and simultaneously praying for the Prince to show up as soon as possible.

Jongin has never seen his father this upset, disappointment clear in his eyes. The King stops in his tracks when the door opens, lips set into a grim line. “I demand an explanation.”

A servant hands the Prince a tablet and, of course, someone has recorded the whole scene. It happened not even an hour ago, yet the article has been published already. Jongin bites his lips, scrolling down to read how the journalist depicts him as arrogant, noisy, biased, and superficial, a bully and no match for the throne. The article concludes with a simple demand for Jongdae to be crowned instead.

Gulping, Jongin hands the device over to the servant and stares down to his feet, not daring to meet his father’s eyes. He knows he has been wrong to pick on someone weaker, that beggar to be exact, but at that time he just needed someone to vent all his anger out. And who was more suited to be picked on than the boy he had seen there? Also, it was his first time acting out of line. Ever. Couldn’t the public just turn a blind eye on it?

“How are you going to fix this?” The King’s voice is loud in the silence, startling a sulking Jongin, who knows better than to argue.

“I will apologize publicly. Please set up a press conference and I will take care of this matter, Father,” he replies meekly.

The King shakes his head. “A simple apology is never enough. You are bringing down the Crown’s reputation. You, my son, are soon coming of age, yet your actions are irresponsible. There is only one thing that makes a man mature, and that is getting married and taking responsibility for your family. Only a good husband and father can govern a country.”

“Yes, Father.”

The thought of getting married has never crossed Jongin’s mind ever after Luhan came back with Jongdae by her side, because he can’t picture anyone else but her next to him. Yet, Jongin knows that for Royals it is difficult to get together with their loves, when all their moves are watched and discussed throughout the nation. It is not uncommon to marry just for the purpose of representation, when the public deems a different person better, so often it is advisors and policy makers who choose a marriage partner for the highest in hierarchy.

The door is opened again and where Jongin has gracefully entered the room before, a lanky boy is stumbling inside, royal guards flanking his sides. Jongin turns around and meets sharp almond eyes with dark orbs boring into his. There is a rebellious trait in those features, but the boy’s shoulders slump down quickly, giving up any resistance. It takes a second, but Jongin recognizes him as the beggar he insulted before and a wave of shame floods him. He nods politely, mouthing a small sorry, before turning his attention back to his father and what he has to say.

The King though, doesn’t continue to pay Jongin much attention. Instead, he eyes their guest, motioning the guards to bring the boy over. The dirty beggar is standing in front of the King now. He is trying to go down onto his knees, but the King doesn’t let him. The guards make him stay in place, until the King approaches him and puts his hands on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing them. “What is your name?”

“Oh Sehun.”

“From now on, your title is Prince Oh Sehun, Crown Prince Jongin’s fiancé.”

The room stays silent. Jongin is the first one to react.

“E-Excuse me?” The Prince stutters, expecting anything but this, while the other boy just keeps quiet and nods. Jongin is furious, wondering why he is not opposed to this idea, until he remembers how dirt poor the other is. Of course, being engaged and then married to the Crown Prince of South Korea will mean a life in luxury and bliss, and it makes Jongin despise the boy even more. Sehun was his name? If Jongin can’t cancel these plans, he will make sure to make gold digger Sehun’s life not all too easy.

“You heard me,” the King’s voice sounds through the room, quiet, but authoritarian. There is no room for discussions. “Treat your fiancé like he deserves it. If I ever come upon complaints, you know what will happen.”

Jongin nods, gulping down the harsh comment sitting heavily on his tongue. He glares at Sehun, who doesn’t spare him a glance, not even when he is lead outside, passing Jongin with his gaze firmly kept on the floor instead. The Prince knows he has brought himself into this situation, yet he can’t understand why it is like this. A minor mistake, a minor slip, and now he has to face these consequences. It doesn’t feel quite fair when it is the first time he has done anything that could be criticized by the public.

“Father,” he pleads, keeping his tone low and humble. “Does he even agree to this? I’m sure he despises me after all of this, so he won’t want to-“

A single hand gesture from his father makes Jongin shut up. The King doesn’t need to speak and Jongin understands that the discussion is over already. There is nothing that can change the King’s mind now, and so the boy can only retreat with a bow, tears of frustration threatening to spill.

This doesn’t mean Jongin won’t try to get out of this engagement though. He still has enough fighting spirit to try finding a way out of this. His father’s reasoning that he has to make up for his minor mistake by marrying that kid is ridiculous. Jongin will tell the boy to oppose. Because in this situation, surprisingly, the beggar’s opinion is worth more when the whole public was on that lanky kid’s side.

“Where is he?” Jongin asks a servant passing by, but he gets no reply. Before the girl can speak up, Jongdae appears and waves her off.

“Where is he?” Jongin asks again, this time directing his question to his cousin who seems to know more. Jongdae, despite being shorter and less athletic than the Crown Prince, doesn’t even blink. He seems to be more annoyed, sighing like a parent who has to clean up the child’s mess.

“What are you going to do when you know?”

“Talking him into breaking off this engagement. It’s ridiculous. I’m sure he doesn’t want it either.” Jongin could marry anyone else, just to show how responsible he could be, as a caring husband and later, a loving father. He wants to marry a beautiful woman, gentle, yet full of temperament. If it wasn’t Luhan, than any other girl could do. With Sehun though, clearly a husband, how could he prove to be a good father? And how was he supposed to keep the blood line?

Jongdae heaves another sigh. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but that will be impossible. This is not a matter of you and Sehun wanting or not. It’s the Crown’s matter now and if the Royal Family’s reputation is at stake, every party involved will have to follow. No matter what you say or do, Sehun will most likely follow the King’s instructions. Don’t try to do funny things, Jongin. It’s your own fault for not filtering your mouth like you have been told so often.”

“You mean he has been threatened or bribed?”

Jongdae gives him an incredulous look. “Watch your mouth. You’re not making it any better, Prince Jongin. You should better listen to your future advisor. I wasn’t chosen for this position for no reason.”

And with that, Jongin is left in the hallway, all etiquette forgotten, as the clearly lower ranked one walks away without any greetings or Jongin’s sign of dismissal.

Jongin doesn’t have to search for too long, the smell hitting his nose before he spots the boy sitting on his bed. Upon entering, the boy gets up. Still, it doesn’t take away any of Jongin’s anger. He has been wronged today and with the filthy beggar staying in his room, he feels his privacy and human rights being violated.

“Leave,” Jongin hisses through his teeth, glaring daggers at the other boy. Now that they are face to face, staring at each other, Jongin realizes that the boy is as tall as him, maybe even taller by a centimeter. And despite his disheveled hair, dust and dirt smudged across his face and ragged clothes, appearance so poor and filthy, his eyes are a beautiful deep brown, full of energy and temperament. The gaze he gets is intense and Jongin half expects to be hit or insulted, but the boy only clenches his hands into fists. He bows lightly, and walks past him. Jongin releases a breath he doesn’t know he has been holding when the boy has left; the awaited punch not executed.

Seconds after the door is closed, the Prince calls for a maid, face scrunched up in disgust as he tells her to replace his sheets and blankets with new ones. They are crinkled and he can see dirt clinging to where that boy had been sitting. Jongin gets a half curious, half knowing look, wondering what the servant is thinking to grin like that. He doesn’t really want to know though, the only thought on his mind right now is for his bed to be germ-free. Maybe he should ask for the whole room to be disinfected as well.

After the maid leaves, there is a knock on the door. Jongin turns around from his desk, ready to yell at whoever is entering without permission and disturbing his brainstorming. He has been doodling on a paper, trying to figure out what options he has, calculating the best possible way out, but when he sees that it is just Luhan, Jongin relaxes in an instant. It feels nostalgic, Luhan coming over to visit, regardless of customs, norms and conventions. Except for servants and the Queen, no female is allowed to enter the Crown Prince’s private refugee on her own, especially when he is present, and ever since her engagement, Luhan has been strictly following that rule. This time though, Jongin can sense that it’s not a casual visit like how it was like years back.

“How are you feeling?” Luhan asks, stepping closer with a tray in her hands. She must have gotten it from a servant, waving her off to bring the Prince some tea.

“Like shit,” Jongin replies, ever so frankly. He doesn’t get scolded though, only a sigh at his use of profanity, but it’s enough to make him mumble a small apology. After all, it’s Luhan, and Jongin wants to do things right for her. Unfortunately though, Luhan doesn’t seem to have the same sentiment, as she shares her honest thoughts, not considering his point of view at all.

“It’s your own fault though, Jongin,” she says and sets down the tray, pouring tea into a cup. Jongin takes it, thanking her without a smile. He takes a cautious sip and watches Luhan pour herself another cup, waiting for her to elaborate further. If she is giving him the same preach he has just heard from Jongdae though, he will cut her off.

“I know it’s difficult for you, but being the Crown Prince means you bear so much more responsibilities. You are the future of this nation and even now you are a representative of this country. What will the international community think of you showcasing our country’s culture and people as haughty and shallow?”

Jongin plays with his cup, staring at the tea gently swapping from side to side, a few drops spilling onto the expensive carpet.

“Our country has never been a good welfare state if we look back in history, but we have achieved a lot in the last decades. Don’t make our reputation sink because of your actions. Be a role model for our people.”

Basically, Jongin thinks, Luhan is telling him the same as his cousin did just moments ago, only in a longer form, and so he blends out her constant talking. It’s not what he wants to hear right now. In this moment he just wants people to pity him for being forced into marriage with a stranger, a dirt poor one at that who was probably taking this opportunity only to enrich himself. Jongin pouts, feeling more and more miserable with every second, drowning in self-pity, until there is a loud knock at the door. Before Jongin can tell the person on the other side not to come in, the door is opened already.

The first thing Jongin notices is the ivory skin, too pale to be a healthy human, and for a second, the Prince thinks about the possibility of the King replacing servants with exquisite, porcelain doll like robots one by one. The next thing he sees is how bony the boy is, skin stretched taut over joints and bones. His eyes wander up and their gazes meet.

Luhan sounds surprised when she says Sehun and in that same moment Jongin realizes the boy in front of him is the filthy beggar the guards picked up and the King made him marry. His look hardens again, when before there was something akin to admiration simmering in his eyes. Sehun doesn’t budge. His eyes are still staring back, almost lifelessly. It’s quite a contrast to the look he had been given before.

“You’re quite handsome,” Luhan remarks and smiles. Sehun seems taken aback and drops his head, staring at his feet now. Jongin just rolls his eyes.

“Once cleaned and properly dressed, sometimes even the dirtiest of people can look handsome,” he says. “Anyone dressed in royal fabrics will look good, no matter how dirty and ugly before.”

As the words leave his mouth, he realizes he shouldn’t have said that.

“Kim Jongin, I do not know you,” Luhan says after a gasp. “You’re childish and bratty. Grow up and take responsibility for your actions.”

With that, she strides towards Sehun, taking him by the elbow to lead him outside. Jongin’s calls fall upon deaf ears as the Chinese girl keeps walking away, a clearly surprised Sehun following, but not protesting. Not even apologies could stop Luhan from leaving and soon, the door closes shut and Jongin finds him himself alone and bitter with no one to console him. The whole world seems to be against him right now.

Sometimes he thinks being a commoner is way better.

It’s dinner time when Jongin sees Sehun again. They are seated next to each other, facing Jongdae and Luhan. It’s just the four of them, the King too upset to have a meal with his son. Sehun keeps silent, eating very little, despite Luhan and Jongdae ensuring him he could eat as much as he can.

“You’re nothing but bones, Sehun. It’s really a miracle you grew this tall with what little you eat,” Luhan says, a spark of worry in her eyes, which only riles up the sulking Prince. He feels not only wronged but neglected also, when all eyes are on the lowly one between them, less than a commoner.

“How can you be so sure he didn’t get enough food?” Jongin asks.

“Sehun is sitting next to you, why don’t you ask him directly?” The Chinese girl suggests, while Jongdae eyes him suspiciously. The conversation had been awkward and Luhan’s poor attempts at coaxing Sehun to open up were futile. The boy stayed mute, probably for the better, because Jongin’s plan is surely not being nice to the boy who is stealing all of Luhan’s attention. Now that he is nothing more than Luhan’s good friend he doesn’t fancy other people receiving her friendly gestures, least of all strangers. “Who knows what he did for people to feed him?” Jongin smirks, eyeing Sehun up and down.

Luhan and Jongdae both stare at him, a little confused. Before they can guess Jongin’s next words, the insult is already flung at Sehun and the boy is up in a second, slapping the Prince square across the face. There is a sound of glass breaking and porcelain crushing in the background. Sehun rushes past the stunned maid and the room is engulfed in silence.

“You did not just accuse him of illegal activities or selling his body,” Luhan says, dangerous tone to her voice. The next second she is hurrying after Sehun, calling out for his name.

“What?” Jongin asks, uncomfortable under Jongdae’s stare.

“Way to go, Prince Jongin. Very mature,” his soon to be Royal Advisor says, sighs and leaves. Jongin doesn’t feel like eating anymore, when everyone seems to hate him right now, and ends up leaving the dining room as well. All the way up to his room he tells himself that there is nothing wrong with him teasing Sehun like that. It’s just teasing and Sehun takes it too personal.

Of course Jongin can’t fool himself. Part of him feels bad for being intentionally mean when in fact the other boy hasn’t done him anything wrong. They just met at the wrong time and place, when Jongin wasn’t in his right mind, upset, frustrated, and fed up with the world and the people around him. He knows he shouldn’t have vented out his feelings in that way, but after doing it once and tasting how it feels like to be the stronger, more powerful one, he can’t stop it. Being the Crown Prince doesn’t mean freedom. It doesn’t mean he can do anything he pleased, despite being placed on top of the hierarchy.

Also, his pride doesn’t allow him to take back words, and instead of making things better, Jongin rather keeps things this way. It’s not like they have to be a real couple. It’s all just for representation, he reminds himself. Though, if it is just representation, why would his father threaten to punish him if he was to hurt Sehun in private?

The following day, Jongin wakes up early as usual. People are wrong if they think the Crown Prince is idle all day. Surely, Jongin does have his time of recreation, but most of the time he is in the library, getting lessons on history and politics, economy and law. The more fun lessons, as horse riding, self-defense, piano, violin and dance have been cut short over time, much to Jongin’s distress. Books and readings are definitely not Jongin’s thing, although he has been promoting literature for the younger generation. It’s his job as Crown Prince, their nation’s future leader and role model.

Sighing, Jongin gets up and dressed, washing his face before breakfast is pushed into his room on a small tea-cart. He has yet to face his father and after yesterday’s dinner disaster he is not so sure what will happen. Instead of being called to the King for educational reasons though, he is expected to follow his regular schedules and classes. There is no sign of the King being more enraged than he has been yesterday, so Jongin supposes the incident hasn’t been reported to his father. Yet.

Again, it’s dinner time when Jongin has to face Sehun again. He doesn’t recognize the boy at first, hair now properly cut and dyed in a warm blonde tone that makes his pale skin stand out even more. With Luhan sitting next to his fiancé, he is stunned to see them equally pretty. Sehun might be even prettier, his lips a darker shade of pink, contrasting stark against his skin, lashes thick and long, framing a pair of eyes with fire in them. It’s the liveliness that has quirked up Jongin’s interest in Luhan, and the fire in Sehun’s eyes intrigues the prince, too. He doesn’t say a word though, forcing away all those thoughts.

The King is joining them for dinner, too, overlooking the whole table. It’s His Majesty who keeps the conversation going, Luhan and Jongdae giving smart replies with a humble tone, whereas Sehun keeps quiet, not replying verbally to any questions directed at him. He only reacts with small gestures, nodding or shaking his head, but that is about all.

“Blonde suits him well, don’t you agree?”

Jongin is pulled out of his thoughts when the question is thrown at him. It pisses him a little off, because he knows his father wants him to compliment Sehun, while he doesn’t want to. What annoys him even more is that it’s true. The boy looks good with this hairstyle, albeit a little cool and inapproachable.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Pretty,” Luhan says, smiling. “If I didn’t have Jongdae, I would date Sehun.”

Jongin’s eyes widen.

“Narcissistic,” Jongdae says. “If you were born a boy, you would be Sehun’s twin.”

The King agrees and the conversation keeps revolving around Sehun, his hidden beauty and his more than likeable personality, according to the couple sitting there. He is smart, thoughtful, sensitive and polite. Jongin would have snickered, because resolving to violence is definitely not polite, but he has to prove to his father that he can be civil to Sehun. Only when his father is not present, he guesses, he can have his fun with riling up the now blonde boy. Especially when it seems like Sehun is no tattler, and that is the only thing Jongin appreciates about the other. Enduring Jongin’s mocking is the least Sehun could do in exchange for a life in luxury and a status unreachable for almost everyone, Jongin thinks, satisfied with his conclusion. It’s good that Sehun knows where he is standing.