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"Jaemin?"
Peeking his head in the room, Jeno calls out for said man. Jaemin has been missing since earlier that evening after excusing himself from the grand ball due to feeling unwell, which is a concern considering the party is to celebrate the victory of the Crown Prince's knights—and Jaemin, the most prominent one of all.
Jeno closes the door behind him softly. He sees Jaemin sitting on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard with his head tilted to the side, showing off his peaceful and gentle expression as Jeno assumes he is sleeping.
Pretty.
Jeno smiles to himself, admiring the look on Jaemin, unguarded, relaxed and just in his softest condition. He reaches out a hand to stroke a finger on Jaemin's cheek—the plump looking flesh on his cheeks feels soft.
Though, before he could even touch a single hair on Jaemin, he sees the latter's eyes fluttering open wide in alarm and next thing he knows, he is thrown onto the bed and a dagger is held to his neck. Jeno barely registers the thought of recognising the dagger as his gift to Jaemin back when he first succeeded in his knight exam.
It takes three seconds and two blinks for Jaemin to realise the situation, instantly throwing the dagger behind him, letting the metal weapon clink to the floor sadly. Jeno looks up at him in amusement while Jaemin frowns apologetically.
"Forgive me, Your Highness. I was surpr—"
Payback time for Jeno, who flips their positions, pinning Jaemin to the bed instead as he hovers over the man.
"Now, how's that?"
Jeno is used to seeing Jaemin at the training grounds, sweating buckets with an impenetrable concentrated gaze as he slashes his sword around during sparring. He is also quite used to seeing Jaemin in his comfort zone, fluffy hair flopping about, looking younger than his own age. Pair that with the nervous eyes that are staring up at him right now only stirs something inside Jeno.
It is always a wonder to Jeno how Jaemin can be so oblivious to his own charms when he is blessed with such looks that are an envy to many. However, it is also understandable considering Jaemin never entertains anyone more than necessary—Jeno is struck with a memory of Jaemin escaping the claws of the noble ladies on the day of his debutante. Jaemin should have been berated for that but the perks of being the crown prince's favourite friend excuses him so.
"Your Highness,"
Jeno cocks an eyebrow to which Jaemin lets out an involuntary flinch.
"...Jeno," Jaemin calls out, soft akin to a whisper, in fear of being heard for it is forbidden to call a royalty's name. It is a name no one in the kingdom can utter without being incriminated for disrespecting the royal family. It's only because it's Jaemin who says it, that it is fine.
Instantly, Jeno melts into a warm smile, one he rarely shows. It's a special smile for a special person. He rids a bit of the distance between them, brushing his nose against Jaemin's own and revels in the little shiver he inflicted on Jaemin.
"Yes, my love?" Jeno's voice is sweet and kind as he noses along Jaemin's cheek.
"The war hero should be at the congratulatory ball dedicated to him. Why are you here instead?" A little pretty frown is on Jaemin's face and Jeno has very little resistance from pressing a chaste kiss to the lips he has been missing for the past two weeks, but he doesn't want to upset Jaemin in any way.
"Then the commander of the knights should also be there celebrating with the war hero, shouldn't he?"
"Your Highness, you know I–"
It's almost a second instinct for Jeno, who knows what Jaemin is always worried about and he just presses his forefinger to Jaemin's lips. He gives Jaemin a stern look and Jaemin immediately purses his lips.
"I appointed you myself and you've proven your worth. I chose you, Jaemin. If anyone is unsatisfied with your position given all the victories you brought to this kingdom, they would just have to bring it up to the crown prince himself then." Jeno says, reminding Jaemin just who has the highest authority over the fellow knights.
"You would be abusing your power, Your Highness."
"For you, I'd cross my father and the crown."
"Jeno!" Out of shock, Jaemin slaps Jeno on the back, hard and loud. "You shouldn't say that! What if someone hears you? You could be punished greatly."
"I don't care about my old man, love. I would do anything if it means you'll stay by my side at the end of the day." Jeno says, tucking his face in Jaemin's neck. He breathes in the fresh scent of Jaemin—he smells nothing but pleasant and comforting. He smells like Jeno's favourite smell. He smells like Jeno's own home, more than the cold palace he grew up in.
Behind Jeno's brave façade, Jaemin knows deep inside Jeno is as scared as he is but he lets Jeno fool them both and he wraps his arms around Jeno, wanting to be enveloped by Jeno's warmth. For years, Jaemin has watched Jeno grow with feelings of both respect and hatred towards the King instilled in his kind heart. Jeno, who's lived his life seeking his father's affection and acknowledgement, who risked everything—his life, his pain, his honour—all just for a curt nod. Jeno, who spent all his childhood trying to become better, greater, invincible to none other than his father's eyes. So, Jaemin knows Jeno absolutely could and would never go against his father at all.
Jaemin's gaze softens, his body going slack in Jeno's arms and he leans in to press a kiss to the crown of Jeno's head. "You would never defy His Majesty,"
"I would."
"Stop lying to yourself."
And Jeno quietens, knowing fully well Jaemin is saying the painful truth Jeno doesn't like to admit. No matter how many times he tries to convince himself, he finds himself reminiscing an old memory of a younger him crying buckets for failing to complete his reading quota for the day and getting caned by his strict teacher.
"You're right," Jeno sighs, leaning back to plop down on his front onto the space beside Jaemin, his head turned to look at his commander. "But I do want to be with you no matter what happens."
"I swore my loyalty to you, Your Highness." Jaemin tangles their hands together, bringing Jeno's palm to his face and presses a kiss on Jeno's inner wrist. "And I swore my love for you, Jeno. Until all my bones break and my body dies, this heart will only belong to you."
Jeno's face falls into a deep frown, his voice dripping with upset as he says, "I'm sorry, my love. I am not powerful enough to have us be free with our love out in the open. I'm sorry you have to suffer like this. You deserve to love and be loved in return without shame. I am sorry I cannot give you any of those now."
The more upset Jeno is, the more painful it is for Jaemin to watch his lover take all the blame to himself. Jeno has done nothing in his life other than showering love to his people. He deserves to receive as much as he gives. And Jaemin, as his most loyal vassal, is willing to go to any lengths for him.
"You know what you can give me now?"
Jeno looks up at Jaemin through glassy eyes. A sight unbefitting of his high status to display such emotions.
"Show me your love, Jeno. Show me. " Jaemin whispers as he cradles the face of his love in his hands, softly, tenderly, firmly so that his love will come to realise that even if the whole nation is against him, Jaemin will be by his side too, shoulder to shoulder, protecting him just as how Jeno has been protecting him.
The bed shifts under both of their weight as Jeno sits up, holding Jaemin's hands to his lips, and he kisses each fingertip, and every little old scar on Jaemin's hands from years of learning swordsmanship and from the many victories he brought to the kingdom.
Jeno runs his lips along Jaemin's arm, pressing gentle kisses on every span of skin he can get and he revels in the soft gasps coming from Jaemin, enjoying how affected his love is. Jaemin feels lightheaded over the many kisses and he hooks his arms around Jeno, to ground himself. The recent war lasted shorter than any of them expected, ending with their win after ten months defending the border, so it has been about over a year since the lovers had spent an intimate night together.
"My love," Jeno says against Jaemin's skin, his warm breath tickling Jaemin's neck. "Love,"
"Yes, Jeno?" Jaemin lets a chuckle slip past his lips. Even when others dubbed Jeno as the scariest person in the battlefield, here, in Jaemin's arms, Jeno is the softest at heart and the sweetest in his smile. This Jeno, which is familiar to Jaemin, is terribly foreign to others.
"Love,"
"Jeno,"
It goes on a few more times with Jeno calling out Jaemin and Jaemin answering each and every one, as patient as ever. The two bask in the silence they have currently, away from the horrific battlefield, away from the melodic music in the ballroom currently and away from scornful eyes. Away from everyone and together with each other.
Jeno might have forgotten Jaemin's request for a moment and Jaemin takes things into his own hands, figuratively and literally, as he pushes Jeno and flips them over, straddling the prince. Jeno lets out a wheeze out of shock but still welcomes the surprise, hands sliding up to hold onto Jaemin's thighs.
"We can call each other's names long into the night, Your Highness. But for now, I want you to love me. I want you to tell me that you miss me as much as I miss you."
Jeno stares up at Jaemin in silence for two beats before his hold on Jaemin tightens and Jaemin gasps aloud. Jaemin could feel Jeno's blunt nails leaving half moon indents on his skin even with the fabric of his pants, so he gives Jeno a sickeningly sweet smile.
"Don't you miss me?"
"Love," Jeno says, a little growl hidden under his small smile. "When did you learn to be this seductive? I thought all your life you grew up with swords."
"I have a fine teacher, you see."
Jeno doesn't get to reply because he is left speechless as Jaemin strips his tunic, throwing it across the floor and all Jeno sees is the fine body Jaemin has grown into—hard muscles, skin marked by permanent scars though still soft to the touch and a tiny lithe waist that Jeno dreams of holding for the rest of his life. The sight of a topless Jaemin isn't as rare as it should have been but it still leaves Jeno salivating over how beautiful his lover is.
"Your teacher would be very proud," Jeno gulps, running a hand up Jaemin's body and placing his palm right on top of Jaemin's heart.
"He would," Jaemin grabs Jeno's hand atop of his chest. "But the only way he would be is to experience it firsthand, isn't that right, Your Highness?"
Jeno's answer comes in the form of squeezing Jaemin's left pec. He then sits up so that they would be on eye level. "You only ever learned the bad things from me, love." Jeno smirks, brushing the pad of his thumb under Jaemin's left eye. "Watch me and don't look away. Tonight, I'll show you all my love for you."
With a slow pace that could rival a snail's, Jeno moves to unbutton his clothes—the maids had spent hours to dress him in his formal royal uniform for the important night and they would have a heart attack knowing their prince is stripping them off with the least care, but Jeno, obviously, has better priorities at the moment.
Every little movement Jeno does has Jaemin's eyes glued onto him and with Jeno's long, slender fingers, it proves to be rather easy.
First, the mantle is unclasped.
Then, off goes Jeno's outerwear.
The sound of the chains etched on the clothing clunks loudly as it falls to the ground. Jeno has a white linen shirt under his uniform and something so plain should not look this good on someone but even a sack would look beautiful on Jeno. The look Jaemin gives is as if he is undressing Jeno with his eyes, hungry of desire. The uniform definitely accentuates Jeno's build yet even with one layer of clothing, Jaemin finds himself enthralled more and more into Jeno.
Jeno's hand goes to the hem of the last piece of clothing he has on but Jaemin stops him shyly.
"Would you please leave it on?"
Jaemin asks with the brightest shade of red blushing his cheeks. The wide grin on Jeno's face is smug and teasing, making Jaemin's cheeks turn even redder, if possible.
"You really know how to drive a man insane," Jeno says, biting the insides of his cheek.
"Only you, Your Highness."
Jeno brings a hand to Jaemin's nape and connects their lips together, unable to hold back any longer. Jaemin instantly melts into the kiss, hooking his arms around Jeno and inches closer until both of their personal spaces mould into one. Jeno sighs into the kiss and effortlessly lifts Jaemin up into his lap. Jaemin's surprised gasp is swallowed in the kiss with how unwilling Jeno is to let Jaemin go, not even for a second to breathe.
"Use your nose, love. I taught you this."
And Jaemin does as Jeno says, using all his knowledge from the last time they kissed and pouring it all into this one. Jeno giggles into the kiss, both hands holding onto Jaemin's face, softly caressing his jaw as he pulls away from Jaemin's lips.
"You're so cute," Jeno smiles with his moon eyes.
Jaemin is about to protest when Jeno latches his lips on Jaemin's neck, catching Jaemin off guard as he shivers from the sensation. At the same time, Jeno's hands slip inside Jaemin's pants, palming his front with the same rhythm as he sucks and bites on the unblemished skin of Jaemin's pretty neck, decorating it with his red.
"Y-your Highness, please–"
"Not yet, love."
Jaemin's whines get caught in his throat, his vice grip on Jeno's top tightens, surely leaving crumples over the smooth fabric but that's the least of Jaemin's concern when Jeno is merciless with his touches. Jaemin tucks his head in between Jeno's neck and shoulder, breathing getting heavier by the second.
"Are you up for it today?" Jeno asks, his hands coming to a stop to make sure Jaemin is on the same page as him.
"Love me, Jeno."
The rest that happens after is familiar yet it still feels like the very first time they were intimate. Jeno kisses like he's running out of time while Jaemin kisses like time is waiting for him. Jeno's touches are soft and firm while Jaemin's touches are gentle and burning.
In between Jaemin's spreaded legs, is Jeno, earnestly making love to him, calling out his love over and over again and he feels the warmth clenching onto him as if unrelenting to be separated. Jaemin, just like their first night, lets himself be swayed in Jeno's love, letting himself commit blasphemy against the royal family all night long, uttering the crown prince's name without shame, throughout his pleasure, from start to end.
Jeno's kisses later turn softer, contrary to his loving, as he peppers kisses all over Jaemin's face and when he's buried deep inside where both of them are at their highest reaching point, he lets the thought of spending more nights like these with Jaemin cloud his mind. Jeno fools himself for one night, that they could be one and together and would not have to face the consequences of their actions. He fools himself into thinking that one day, somewhere, the two of them could live this happily, without the burden of their high positions in the system and without the differences in their statuses. He fools himself that there is a world where he could love Jaemin freely and be loved as much and more.
They reach their high just like that, in each other's arms, calling each other's names, hazy gazes locked together and they have never been closer than they are now.
The night doesn't stop at one, and they go again, and again, and again, until they run out of energy and until they can no longer move.
They whisper love to each other.
After the long night passes, and sunrise is just around the corner, they both lay in each other's arms. Jaemin has Jeno's linen clothing on, stealing it halfway through their loving and Jeno likes it better on Jaemin.
"Your Highness,"
"Love,"
"Promise me something, Your Highness."
Jeno hums.
"You will live on, protecting what you have lived to protect. Promise me that you will bring prosperity to this kingdom. Promise me that you will keep your promises."
"With you, love." Jeno kisses Jaemin on the forehead. "I cross my heart."
It doesn't matter that their love is hidden behind doors, under sheets and over hushed whispers. It doesn't matter that their love is forbidden and will only bring them more pain coming forward. It doesn't matter that Jaemin will one day watch Jeno live his happiness with someone else, a queen perhaps, without an ounce of happiness, as he is too, with a noble lady picked by his family. It doesn't matter, when Jeno has his love written, crossed and engraved in his heart and Jaemin will continue to love his prince, more and more, until he could no longer love and that only means he is no longer living.