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The courtyard is a beautiful pallet of white, adding a sort of personality to the usually more stoic grey colored stone.
The firelight from the torches only seemed to add into the glow that covered the ground and the surrounding buildings, adding to the muted silence that the Winter night had brought.
It signified change, something that he was both anticipating and dreading. When the snow finally melted away, he would either come back like the blooms of autumn or he would wither under the harsh grasp of winter.
It was a complete contrast to the stuffy interior of the palace itself, where in the moment there was much dancing, drinking and merriment to be had, different colors of robes flashing by under candle light, reds, blues, deep blacks, shimmering silver and gold, even the light sea foam from the dancers. Giving their lithe forms of the women providing their skill to give form of the sounds coming from the hands of talented musicians, giving them the appearance of waves.
Some that still lived underneath the still pond of the night.
But Junmyeon could say that he much rather preferred the outside, even if it was cold, and he knew that the very edges of his cloak were going to be soaked by the time he turned in for the night.
It was comforting to be with just himself in the moment, save the guards that stood as a silent sentinel every so often, their posts clearly dictated by the amount of snow that was undisturbed around him.
In the very back reaches of his mind, he knew that part of it was cruel and could only wonder how long they were standing out underneath the cold. He could see their hands turning red, something he was sure that his own face was trying to replicate the longer he was out here.
But he had learned long ago that such worries weren't going to pay off in the long run, that they weren't going to be the only thing that kept him alive. And so his walk continued, with only the moonlight, and his own footsteps crunching in the snow to join him, that was until he could see another figure standing looking up at the sky as he approached.
They were seemingly either unaware of his presence, or choosing to ignore it for a little while longer.
Junmyeon couldn't honestly blame them if they were ignoring his approach, getting closer he could see the robes, a pitch black, only accented by embroidery, although he couldn't see it, he knew that there was a dragon underneath even if a similarly heavy cloak covered the majority of the design.
A rather handsome profile was outlined by the moon.
"Prince Yixing." Junmyeon greets, stopping just a few feet away from the other man.
Yixing turns to face Junmyeon, the rather far away expression turning to stone before softening out when he realizes who is standing before him.
"Junmyeon."
He tries not to latch on to the way that the words leave the other royals mouth in a relieved rush, as if it were the only thing he had been looking forward to hearing all evening. As if talking to him had been the thing that he had been trying to do all evening.
That might have been the case, and Junmyeon might have been purposefully avoiding it, choosing rather to play nice with the older members of the court, and other important individuals at the gathering, he would think that his father would be quite proud of him for once.
"Or should I say, Emperor Zhang. " There's a teasing sparkle in Junmyeon's eye as he says the title, pushing away the unpleasant thoughts in his brain in exchange for the groan that comes out of the other man's mouth.
"Myeon..."
Junmyeon chuckles, closing the little bit of distance between them and coming to stand beside him, their shoulders brushing with the new found proximity. “What? It is a proper title for you.”
Yixing crosses his arms, slightly shuffling the cloak, making it move so that he could see a little more of he design, finally he could definitely see that the robes he had been wearing in mourning were slowly and surely making their transition over to ones that he would rule in.
Ones that should make him untouchable.
"It's not my title yet. "
The words are set, tone stubborn, and Junmyeon knew he wouldn't get anywhere far if he kept reminding him of his impending rule.
"Did you get tired of the festivities? I'm sure you're missed." Junmyeon remarks, his attention turns to the frozen atmosphere of the ponds, usually more than lively with flowers and other fish that were kept in them.
But now they were still.
And just beyond the boundary, he could see the lights where the town lived, the people there more than likely having some type of celebration of their own, which he knew was more than likely the case with how his noble friends had been talking just a few days before.
But he knew that most of them would've wanted to be here, rubbing elbows, gaining favor with the much older crowd inside.
Yixing huffs again, but this time it sounds a little more relaxed, he notes. "The same could be said of you, Your Highness."
Junmyeon turns his gaze towards him then. "Hmm, I think I greeted them enough not to be missed." he sighs. "Or at least my parents won't complain as much." he watches for a moment how his breath curls into the air before briefly disappearing.
"Besides, it was getting way too stuffy in there."
Yixing hums his agreement, and Junmyeon didn't need to look to know the wrinkled up expression his face would hold. having seen it a number of times since they were younger. The other prince had never been a fan of the smoke, and other heavily scented things that his father and others in the court would enjoy.
"Is that cloak new?"
Junmyeon's attention turns to the garment, noting the collection of the snow at the hem that he'd predicted, as well as some of it gathering into the furred hem.
An expensive item, he knew.
"Are you asking me or are you telling me?" Junmyeon searches his face, even if he already knew the answer himself from the tone the other had used.
It wasn't a question.
He lets out the briefest of sighs. "It was a courting gift, It's nice isn't it?"
Junmyeon begins walking away then, not wanting to really register the expression on the other man's face but not surprised to hear the crunching of footsteps following him soon after him deeper into the more abandoned parts of the garden, and obviously those less disturbed if the glistening snow had anything to say about it.
Yixing falls into an easy pace next to him once again. "Yes. it is." The answer is short, concise, on the edge of being spat out as if he'd been given something sour to coat his tongue just before.
They fall into silence then, Junmyeon's footsteps joined then by Yixing's, and he found it all the more comforting than he had when he'd first set out alone.
Eventually they come to a stop, Yixing immediately brushing off one of the benches as much as he could before setting down.
"Tired? You sure you aren't getting old?" Junmyeon says as he stops in front of him, the cloak coming to a stop in front of him with a slight swish.
Yixing humors him with another smile. "If I'm old, then you are too." He settles on the bench with ease, as if it weren't a cold hard object beneath him, he made it look like the most comfortable thing in the world.
Something that Junmyeon had always admired about his old friend.
"How long has it been going on?"
Junmyeon's slight smile falls a little, and he resists the urge to look away, feeling the other man's gaze on him, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to shift the conversation from this topic so easily. "A couple of months... but none of them have really clicked." He shuffles, moving some of the snow with his boot. "Luckily, my parents have seemed to agree for the most part that they weren't suited for me so they haven't pushed it."
"And this one?" Yixing sweeps one arm down his form, at the cloak.
"They like him a bit more than the others, he's been invited back." Junmyeon answers. "He was here tonight."
Usually warm brown eyes, currently as deep as the night, as frigid as the ponds, but yet still soft as the snow when looking at him.
"What about you? I was surprised that they haven't tried to marry you off already.” A stuttering laugh escapes his chest, as if the thought offended him. “They’ve been kind enough to let you mourn the Emperor's passing at least." Junmyeon turns the conversation around, resisting the urge to fiddle with his hair, even if in the moment it really hadn't moved out of place.
Yixing's gaze never leaves his.
There was little that could stop Yixing from doing, or getting what he wanted when he looked like this. Whether it be mastering his horseback riding, or mastering the Korean language so he could speak to Junmyeon successfully or even teaching Junmyeon his mother tongue in turn.
Most times it was something that he was in awe of.
And sometimes like now, it scared him as much as it stirred a nervous feeling in his stomach since it was directed at him especially.
“I told them that I wouldn’t have it. That I was waiting.” He answers with certainty, again his gaze unwavering.
And Junmyeon feels his tongue fall heavy in his mouth, and subsequently fall a little dry at the mere implication, at the statement. And for the first time that night he let himself look up past the eyes that were pinning him down, seeing a very distinct hair pin holding together part of the knot that was Yixing’s hair.
Junmyeon takes a breath, letting it out in another puff of air. “Yixing. ” It sounds pained, and he knows it does when the syllables leave his tongue.
The soon to be emperor sands from his seat, and takes confident strides forward. "Junmian."
He scoffs at the name, knowing all of his weak points, but he doesn't step back from where Yixing has ended up in front of him again, being able to feel his body heat through more than just a simple brush of a shoulder.
He locks eyes with him. "You know–"
"There is no one else." Yixing states firmly, emphasizing the fact, although in theory there was no one in the near vicinity to hear their conversation.
Or at least he hoped it was only being listened to by the trees, and the wind, soon lost to an echo and trapped within the bark.
Dampened by the snow.
As if someone was listening to his inner thoughts it begins snowing again, the light flakes beginning to land themselves against his skin, and slightly melt there. He could also feel them get caught against his lashes, and he was sure it was getting in the loose strands of his hair.
It's confirmed when Yixing's gloved hand brings a few of the strands of his shoulders, slick and black, dotted with white as it rests against his cloak.
"Xing, you know we can't... I'm...." Junmyeon starts softer this time around.
Yixing shakes his head. "Don't say it."
Junmyeon knows it's insulting to say such things about himself, and especially to someone who could arguably know him better than himself.
He knew that it was cruel especially, since he'd been there at the funeral with his friend, he'd been there to squeeze Yixing's hand in support under the cover of their sleeves when the Prince couldn't show anything but strength but Junmyeon knew otherwise. And he couldn't react when Yixing held on like a life line as they watched the ceremony go from beginning to end.
Junmyeon tries to recollect his thoughts, to phrase his words better, voice his apprehension.
His fear.
"I don't want this to be out of convenience." Junmyeon finally tells him, it would hurt him more than he would ever know. "Just because I'm familiar. Just because it's easy."
There's no doubt that his family would be elated if this did happen, and perhaps the people on Yixing's side too, he knew his mother would.
But he had gotten used to watching from afar, he wasn't foolish enough to subject himself to a front row seat with his own bleeding heart on the line if it came down to him not being adequate enough. He wouldn't let the familiar little pin in the other man's hair give him a false strand of hope into his heart, no matter how much his heart leapt when his eyes were confirming that it was indeed there in this very moment.
Yixing is silent when the words reach his ears, and he only searches Junmyeon's face, but he doesn't shy away from the scrutiny. As he knows the other man was collecting his words as well, and then the other is finally making his moves as well.
Both of his hands come up to cup Junmyeon's face with a gentle grasp, gloved hands gently wiping at his red cheeks, and despite himself he can feel his eyes slightly flutter close at the contact. Especially when they gently hover over his lashes for a moment, and then he feels the nearly impossible.
A pair of warm lips touching his forehead solidly.
Over the years they'd shared brief touches of comfort, a quick press to the hair out of sight, but it was nothing as solid as this, it felt like a promise.
Once they lock eyes again, Junmyeon can feel like he can breathe just a little bit easier at this.
"You were never just convenient, never just easy." Yixing states, his hands never leaving the gentle hold he has on his face, as if to enforce the words into his mind.
His hand only drops after a moment for him to dig into one of the layers of his robes, coming out with an object that he both prayed he wouldn't and would see.
The hair pin was beautiful, and there would be no mistaking any intention if he were to take it and wear it.
And just looking at it he knew that it was the best of the best, Junmyeon could only imagine how many times it had to be remade until it was up to Yixing's standards.
The thought makes him laugh a little.
"What’s funny?"
Junmyeon looks up from the object back to the other prince's eyes, they didn't look as cold as before now, perhaps it was because of their current proximity. "The thought of how many times you sent it back before it was perfect. Those poor craftsmen."
"Well, I couldn't just give you anything." He reasons. "It was only ten times."
Junmyeon shoots him a look then, slightly disbelieving, playful even.
"I'm being honest, Myeon."
A laugh bubbles up from his throat. "Hmhm... I know, I was just teasing."
And then the seriousness of the situation envelops him again.
"What if I'm not enough? Once you ascend and gain your gift." It was totally possible he could be thrown by the wayside.
"You are enough." Yixing states with a certainty he wishes he could have. "You know I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."
It was true, as long as he had known the other royal, he hadn't been the one to freely try and butter someone up to get what he wanted, not even if it were him he were talking to.
Junmyeon sighs, fidgeting in place, feeling some of the snow beginning to collect on the outsides of the cloak, weighing on certain parts of his hair, he wanted to use it as an escape.
Not that it would be something that was going to easily be let go, even if they ended it here, the other royal still had a few days here after the winter solstice celebrations, and he knew it would come back again.
But instead, Junmyeon finds himself turning around, feeling Yixing's piercing gaze turn into something more questioning until he sees Junmyeon slightly offering his head as he removes the current pin holding the one small bun in his hair. Taking the traditional gold ornament out and resting it in his covered hands.
He can also feel the moment the gaze shifts with intensity, towards the top of his head, and then in a moment he feels the gentle slide of the replacement making its way into his hair, slightly pulling there before it stops and Junmyeon turns back front.
He knew something so delicate shouldn’t feel so heavy, but the thought is pushed back into his mind once he sees Yixing's warm gaze and a full on dimpled smile lighting up his expression.
The other man reaches forward and interlocks their hand, once again putting minimal distance in between them. "I'll be by your side." Yixing assures him with a squeeze, as if he needed Junmyeon to know the sincerity of his words.
Junmyeon nods, returning Yixing's own bright smile with one of his own. "I know."
They kiss then, the slight cool feeling of snowflakes melting against the heat of their skin, and even then he could say that he had never felt warmer nor safer than in this moment. Apprehension turning to butterflies, and the promise of spring beyond the cold of this season.
Whatever the next months would bring, he could feel that now perhaps he could handle the change, and that it wouldn't be as drastic as he thought. No matter what his ability may be once Yixing ascended, there was a part of him now that was sure it would be the perfect compliment.
Looking into the other man's eyes as their foreheads met, he knew that whatever was going to happen next, they were going to go through it together.
Nothing more, nothing less.
And perhaps one day he would be able to get used to the way the other man looked at him like he was his world.
But this was a good start.