Work Text:
Written by: @TELENOVEllZED
Mingyu wants the throne, Jeonghan wants Mingyu (in a less-than-ideal kind of way).
***
Mingyu didn’t understand how he ended up there: in his grandma’s study room, cursing at everyone but no one at the same time, messing up his already-messy hair by running his hand through it multiple times. He just couldn’t believe it – when he thought that everything was finally going according to plan, something came and ruined it for him.
His halmeoni sat behind her desk, even when she was frustrated and angry she still looked classy. Her graying hair was tucked neatly behind her ears, her hands on top of her lap as she waited for her grandson to calm down, her lips staying pursed because she knew better than to curse in front of her maids and the security details and everyone else present in the room.
The crown prince, however, didn’t care. He was frustrated and he wanted everyone to know that. It had been so close to him – the throne – and it had been promised to him. His father died years ago and his mother had no royal blood so she couldn’t take over – it didn’t help that his parents divorced and his mother moved away to South Korea to raise Mingyu on her own. When Mingyu was 17, his halmeoni paid him a visit to tell him that he was a prince. He took it… well.
(He ran away from home for 8 hours to sit on a park bench as he thought about the responsibilities he was about to be given.)
But well nevertheless.
After he graduated high-school, he agreed to have prince lessons to get the hang of it. Every summer since he was 17 he’d spent in Gwangju – a very small yet prosperous nation in the heart of the East Asian region. The country had been a part of South Korea before it emerged as an independent nation during a period of political upheaval – both countries remained civil and had always kept close ties, though.
He was starting to get sidetracked.
“What do you mean I have to find a companion?” Mingyu lowered his voice a little so he wouldn’t be yelling at his grandmother.
The elderly woman grabbed the spoon inside her porcelain cup, tasted the tea and finally replied, “I expected some sort of retaliation from members of our distant family, but I did not expect this.”
Mingyu raised an eyebrow as he buried his fists inside the pocket of his faded blue jeans, “Retaliation?”
“You were raised in Korea and although you were born here, you did not grow up with Gwangju’s customs and traditions. They think you’re not fit to be king because you are not adept in the ways yet, you just started living here full-time 5 months ago.” His grandmother explained, stirring the hot tea inside her cup. “But I disagree, I think you are ready to be king.”
“Did you tell them that?” He shifted his weight from one foot to another, feeling the ache starting to form on the bottom of his feet.
The queen took a sip from her tea, her reading glasses fogging up in the process, “I did and most of the parliament members agreed, however, they pointed out a flawed rule in the system.”
“Which is?”
“Long ago our ancestor, King Minjoo, did not have a companion before he stepped in as king and this proved to be detrimental to the state of our nation. He was a great ruler, sure, but he generally lacked focus and stability. The people thought it was because he was too young or because he lacked counsel from a trusted partner. Whatever it was, it almost ruined the country and since then, every heir to the throne should be married before they ascend.” She explained slowly and it seemed that everyone in the room paid so much attention to it that Mingyu swore they didn’t even dare to breathe out.
The prince – while taking in the information – chewed on his bottom lip, feeling more and more agitated by the parliament’s request. Securing a partner was already hard on its own, securing a partner for the purpose of having a trusted counsel while he ruled the country? That would be so much harder. Plus, he knew they would probably only accept if he married a Gwangju national who had a respected family and background. How could he find that in a small country with a population of less than 2 million?
“Look, Mingyu.” His grandma lowered the cup once more, placing it on top of the saucer. She then placed her hands on top of her tweed skirt once more and Mingyu felt beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead. “I am not forcing you to take the throne, it is a heavy duty that you should not bear when you have just turned 23 and are still trying to adapt with this country. It is a decision that you should make on your own and no one should take that away from you.”
He thought about his father – the prince who was supposed to rule over the kingdom, the man whose love over his country overruled the love he had for the mother of his son, the woman who he fell in love with during college. Mingyu understood that being a prince meant making sacrifices and prioritizing the country over his personal interests or happiness. He had made some sacrifices; changing his nationality, moving to Gwangju permanently, letting go of any opportunities to have a normal life and free from all royal duties. But he knew that if he wanted to be king, he had to make bigger ones, dare himself to make the hard choices.
So he breathed in as he looked straight into his grandmother’s eyes, seeing a glimpse of his determination in her stare, before ultimately sealing the deal, “I hope Gwangju has not found a Bachelor for their next season of ‘The Bachelor’.”
That put a smile on his halmeoni’s face.
***
“What do you mean you’re getting married? To whom?” Was the first thing his best-friend, Seokmin, asked him when he barged into Mingyu’s room unannounced at 6 AM to surprise him.
Mingyu – who was still half-asleep and scrolling through Gwangju’s version of Tinder – yelled so loud that his security team almost tackled his best-friend to the ground and ended his life right then and there. Thankfully, in the middle of all the yelling and screaming and Seokmin’s apologies, his secretary cleared up the air by telling everyone that everything was under control.
Then when the room was only occupied by the two of them and Seokmin was snacking on a dry cookie, Mingyu dropped the bomb on him. He was going to get married, the wedding had to be arranged in less than 2 months and he had to find – and fall in love with – someone who was willing to become his consort, with the added benefit – or drawback – of having to rule the Kingdom of Gwangju alongside their new king.
“I don’t know yet.” Mingyu replied and then he told his friend about the complicated circumstances and the law and how his distant cousin – maybe a hundred times removed – was also trying to steal the throne from him.
“Who’s this cousin?” His friend asked, which was the least important point in comparison to all of the points Mingyu had just explained.
“I don’t know, I don’t think that’s important right now, Seok.” The prince answered, grabbing a yakgwa from the tiered saucers on the coffee table. “That’s like the least of my worries.”
“Well, if a distant cousin of mine is trying to steal the throne from under me, I wouldn’t be this relaxed,” the other boy replied, “that should be the most of your worries actually.”
Mingyu rolled his eyes at him, shoving the cake into his mouth and letting it crumble as it took up most of the moisture inside it.
“As far as I know, I don’t think he’s a threat.” He had quoted his grandmother verbatim because she also thought that the parliament was probably bluffing.
His distant cousins were mostly old and unmarried with a string of children born out of wedlock. The parliament – as far as he knew – only had two choices: 1) the rightful heir to the throne who had to grow up in another country due to unfortunate circumstances or 2) fathers whose children would soon be raised in unfortunate circumstances.
“Okay,” Seokmin answered, “do you have to be in love with them? I mean, I’ll marry you if it means you get to be king and I get to live in this freaking castle and receive money simply from existing.”
Mingyu laughed so loud one of his bodyguards flinched, “I am not marrying you! I have to be married to someone from Gwangju.”
“Shame, I would have been fine with settling down with you. No work, no taxes, just vibes and acting in love with you.” He shoved another cookie into his mouth. “So is there like Tinder here or are you going to get your own reality show or what?”
“My grandma’s piling a list of eligible bachelors for me who are both Gwangju citizens and coming from respected families.” Mingyu explained, quoting his grandmother verbatim. “I think we’ll just have to wait and see.”
That same afternoon his grandma’s secretary called him to the drawing room of the castle – still weird calling the castle his home – to talk about potential suitors. Mingyu didn’t really want to do it, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to just leave the marriage if he wasn’t feeling it anymore. He was to be king, his marriage should be looked up to,
idolized, be made into the caricature of a happy one. Even if he wasn’t in love, he should act like he was – the people wanted him to be.
His grandma was sitting behind the oak desk, glasses perched on her nose, her fingers flipping through the files in front of her. Seokmin had tagged along, saying that he could probably give an objective opinion regarding potential partners for Mingyu.
“Your Majesty.” Seokmin bowed and Mingyu followed suit.
“We have the list of all eligible bachelors for you, Gyu,” his grandma stated, not looking up from the files in front of her.
Mingyu came closer to her, “How many are there? Do we really have to sort through hundreds of files and —”
When his eyes fell on the files spread out over the desk, there was a sense of relief washing over him. There were only 5 distinguishable brown files with different names written on the cover – Gwangju really is a small country.
Seokmin – who was standing beside him – stifled a laughter from the complete lack of options that Mingyu was presented with. He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat before asking, “Apologies, Your Majesty, but is this it?”
The queen looked up from the files, peering from under her gold-framed reading glasses at Mingyu’s best-friend. She took off her glasses and folded it before putting it on her desk, beside the brown files, “I am afraid so.”
“5 people?” Mingyu questioned, brushing his fingers over the brown files, feeling the papery texture underneath his skin.
“Yes, 5 age-appropriate possible suitors.” His halmeoni pressed on the ‘age-appropriate’ part, making Mingyu wonder if any older men or much younger men had given themselves as candidates as well.
“Okay.” The prince nodded, thinking that he could probably work with 5 people.
He absentmindedly grabbed one of the files, choosing to ignore the name written on the cover as he opened it and skimmed through the short biodata that the team had given each of the potential suitors.
The first guy was someone a year older than him. Kwon Soonyoung – a guy with a family history too complex to decipher through a short skim and royal blood ties. He was nice,
had some nice hobbies and tiger conservation in the South coast of Gwangju. It could probably work, Mingyu thought, and he gave the files to his grandmother.
She pursed her lips as she flipped through the pages, “Could be a good match, you think?”
“Maybe.” Mingyu bit down onto his bottom lip, he didn’t know if he was compatible with the guy at all, in all honesty, but he seemed like a good man who could be a good companion while he ruled over the kingdom.
“Alright, then.” She put down the files, then grabbed another one before giving it to Mingyu and this time, he read the name in front of it.
Yoon Jeonghan.
He took a deep breath and felt Seokmin’s curious eyes looking from behind his shoulders, reading through the files at the same time that Mingyu was looking through it as well. Jeonghan was two years older than him – he had royal ties as well and his family had fled South Korea during the first political upheaval. When Mingyu turned the page, Jeonghan’s face had filled it. It was a photo taken of him professionally and Mingyu had to remind himself to breathe when he took in Jeonghan’s appearance.
If he had absolutely no dignity, he would have told his grandma and begged on his knees to introduce the two of them rightaway but he still had some common sense left to keep calm. He cleared his throat and handed the file to his halmeoni who was in the middle of speaking to her secretary.
She took a glance at the name written on the file and stopped her sentence mid-convo before putting it down on the desk once again and muttering under her breath, “No, no, no, he’s out of the picture.”
Mingyu felt his heart drop to his knees, “Why not? He seems like a nice guy, we have the same interests, he could be a good companion, he –”
His grandmother put her hand up, politely asking him to stop talking.
“He shouldn’t be in the files, actually, he’s not an option, Mingyu.” She asserted as she scrambled to put Jeonghan’s files on the back of the line.
The prince raised an eyebrow, puzzled by the reaction, “Why, though?” “Well, for starters, he is out to get your throne.”
***
Soonyoung was a really good sport.
Her grandma’s representatives reached out to Soonyoung’s family the day after Mingyu had made up his mind about who could be the best possible candidate and they went on a nice date in the palace’s courtyard – with Mingyu’s bodyguard following them closely in the back – as they talked about their hobbies and interests. It felt weird, going on a date when he knew his grandmother out of all people would grill him about it after but he had a good time with the man.
He had a nice sense of humor – one that was compatible with Mingyu’s – and knew the right things to say at all the right time. However, if someone came up to him and asked him if he was in love with the man, he’d probably only respond with a smile and a nod. Was he in love with the man or simply comfortable with the idea of being with him?
The palace loved him, though. He passed all the tests in flying colors, Seokmin had a good impression on him when they all played soccer together and his halmeoni – out of all people – had given him the blessing. Soonyoung was nice, more than nice, but there was just a little bit of something missing – the drive, the passion, the tension. He wasn’t sure he was going to find it in Soonyoung.
When the palace had been glammed up and filled to the brim with close family friends and relatives for Mingyu’s birthday, he didn’t expect to be in for a treat when his very distant relative slash cousin Yoon Jeonghan decided to attend. No one knew about it – not even Mingyu – and his name was probably squished in between various nobodies that his halmeoni didn’t pay attention or mind to it at all.
Mingyu was trying to get away from the busy party by walking through the courtyard on his own, slipping away from his security details and partygoers’ eyes, making his way to the little fountain in the middle of the garden, finding peace in the silence that the hedges could give him. He just wanted a few uninterrupted minutes for himself where he didn’t need to entertain guests or important people. 5 minutes to celebrate his birthday alone.
As he sat down onto the vacant bench, listening to the chirps of crickets around him and the occasional tweets from the palace’s pet birds, he heard some rustling from his right and mentally cursed before getting up to greet whoever it was that had intruded on his personal time.
“My apologies, Your Highness.” The man with the slightly overgrown dark hair bowed down as he said it.
Mingyu nodded his head in response, “No worries, I was just looking around.”
The man lifted his head and Mingyu could feel his breath knocked out of his lungs in an instance once he realized who he was. Jeonghan. The Jeonghan. As much as Mingyu
should have hated the guy since he was coming for the throne, he couldn’t quite shrug off his accelerating heartbeat when their eyes met.
“ Oh, it’s you.” Mingyu didn’t mean to sound so accusatory but it came out just like that.
Jeonghan shrugged as he inched closer to the birthday boy, “Couldn’t that have waited until after I said happy birthday?”
“Sure.”
“Happy birthday to the man of the hour, the talk of the country.” Jeonghan stated, walking closer and closer towards Mingyu, hands inside of his pockets. If the tabloid knew – if anybody knew – they were talking, both of their faces would be plastered on the front page the morning after as Mingyu wouldn’t be the only talk of the town.
Mingyu blinked, letting his heartbeat slow down. In pictures, Jeonghan was breathtaking, the kind of beauty he knew many people envied. But in real life? If he wasn’t holding on to the bench he knew he’d fall down on his knees like a pathetic little puppy. Why – of all the files his grandma presented to him that day – was Jeonghan the unavailable one?
“Thank you.” Was the only thing Mingyu could croak out.
Jeonghan scoffed, “I thought you’d hate me.”
“Who said I didn’t?” He retorted.
“‘Cause if you did, you would’ve called me names by now.” The older one answered.
It wasn’t that Mingyu didn’t hate him – Jeonghan had been the reason why he had to find a suitor and companion fast since his family wanted him to take the available throne. It was the fact that Jeonghan was too pretty to hate. If he had been born with a different face, Mingyu would’ve probably found it much easier to hate him, to cuss him out, to tell him to get out of the palace. It also didn’t help that they liked almost all the same things.
“I’m a prince, I don’t call people names, even if they’re trying to rob me of my birthright.” Mingyu took one step forward and noticed that he was towering over Jeonghan, a height difference he certainly felt was advantageous for him because it made him look much more intimidating than the other.
“Sure.” Jeonghan replied calmly, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. “ Birthright. You’re not even from here, you didn’t grow up here, you wouldn’t know what the public wants.”
This made him up a little. “And what do you know about what the public wants?”
“I grew up here, Your Highness, I served the country proudly, I know what the people want because I am the people.” He rebutted and Mingyu was too stunned to say anything. “It’s your birthright, sure, but it doesn’t mean you deserve it, Mingyu.”
“And you do?”
“I’m not saying I do, I’m saying I know more about this country and its people than you.” He stated as he took another step forward and he looked up at the man even though Mingyu knew the other thought very little of him. “This country deserves to have a ruler who knows what they’re doing, you don’t.”
“Then how should I know what I should be doing?”
“Get in touch with your people, that’s your best bet.” Jeonghan answered a little too honestly and Mingyu didn’t think that he’d be so earnest with him. Especially when the man was so adamant that he’d been the more deserving one out of the two to snatch the title of King of Gwangju.
He walked past Mingyu, purposely bumping the taller’s shoulder and Mingyu didn’t notice that his pointer finger had instinctively reached out, seeking contact with the other’s. When their fingers brushed, the younger felt a jolt that ran up his spine, making his body
Mingyu looked behind his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse at Jeonghan’s figure once again, “Why are you helping me?”
Jeonghan stopped in his tracks before turning his body and replying, “I’m not, I’m just giving you advice.” He paused for a while before giving him another bow and excusing himself. “Your Highness.”
It was a weird first meeting and even when he’d reentered the palace and slipped back into the center of the party, he could still feel the tingling feeling on his finger from when Jeonghan’s brushed past it earlier. Their conversation – though filled with sarcastic quips and jabs – felt much more exhilarating than all the conversations he had with Soonyoung combined. Talking to Jeonghan made him feel things.
“You okay, Gyu?” Soonyoung asked after the two of them did a toast together on the balcony of the ballroom.
Mingyu – whose head was occupied by the thoughts of Jeonghan and his words – nodded, “I’m alright.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
Before he knew it, Soonyoung had gone down on one knee, a velvet box in hand as patrons inside the palace gasped in excitement.
Fuck my life, he thought.
***
He was hanging out in Gwangju’s lighthouse situated on the East Coast of the country, in the city of Myeonghae – after having just finished practicing one of his crowning rituals: The Beacon Ignition – when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Mingyu was staring off into the sea, at the rolling waves and the sands, at everything that could distract him from the wedding and the responsibilities he was about to be pushed into.
A few weeks prior he had made an event for orphans in Gwangju and then had attended a beach cleanup with a few politicians, making sure that no reporters could know about it because he didn’t want the people to think that he was doing it for recognition, and had planned another charity ball to give back to fishermen that lost their income from a hurricane. He wanted to be a good king, a good ruler but despite all of his best efforts, he didn’t really feel like he had connected with his people.
Soonyoung – who was born and raised in Gwangju – hadn’t been much help in that department as well. He grew up wealthy in Jinju Heights, a district overlooking the capital, Hanseong. He lived in a different world from the rest of the citizens there and this detachment made it even more challenging for Mingyu to find a connection with the people he was about to rule over.
As the footsteps grew louder, he assumed that it’d been one of his bodyguards or his personal secretary and he played with the engagement ring around his finger, disregarding the new presence of someone in that lighthouse with him.
“So… this is where the crown prince goes to sulk.”
It was none of his bodyguards’ voices and he whipped his head around so fast he was scared that he might’ve cracked it. There was a sense of relief that washed over him once he realized that it’d only been Jeonghan but the relief was short-lived as he wondered why Jeonghan out of all people was there.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Jeonghan put his hands up in mock surrender, “Just here to congratulate you, nothing else.”
“Not about to steal the throne anymore?” Mingyu asked sarcastically and Jeonghan laughed.
“I mean you’re getting married, that’s good, right? That’s the only thing the parliament expected of you before you ascend your throne.” The older guy put both of his hands inside his pocket as he walked up the last step and manouvred around the small area.
Mingyu had been practicing one of the crowning rituals which was to ignite the beacon inside the lighthouse. It had been one of the ancient rituals; one made in order to symbolize the King’s ability to guide his people through their darkest times, serving as a symbol of hope and enlightenment.
“Yeah, it’s good.” The prince leaned back against the glass, crossing his arms over his chest as he felt a breeze pass through him, making him shudder.
“Soonyoung’s a nice guy.” Jeonghan remarked.
“Do you know him?”
“ Nah,” he started, “he grew up privileged, I wasn’t, we lived in two different worlds.”
“You talk a lot about this division between the rich and poor and you’re acting as if you’re the only poor one in this world and the only person who truly understands what the people are going through and –”
“Well, am I not?” The older man cut him off mid-sentence, his eyebrow raised in curiosity. Although he was standing a good few meters away from Mingyu, the prince could still see the scowl that Jeonghan was wearing on his face.
He moved closer to Mingyu and they were both facing each other once again, the distance between their faces so close Mingyu could feel Jeonghan’s breaths fanning his nose. This sent a shiver down his spine. Jeonghan was so close that he could smell the older man’s perfume, his aftershave, his mouthwash. There was a tension between them that could only be cut by a knife. He felt pulling himself away, trying not to inch closer to smell more of Jeonghan, to get more of him.
Mingyu didn’t understand why he’d been so attracted to a person he wasn’t allowed to be attracted to. He was supposed to hate him, supposed to crush him, supposed to flaunt the engagement ring around his finger in front of him. But it felt like there was an insatiable hunger inside him whenever Jeonghan showed up – a thirst that could only be quenched by the man in front of him.
“Am I not the only person in this place to know what it’s like to have nothing?” Jeonghan semi-whispered his question, his voice made Mingyu have to take a step backwards so that he wouldn’t inch any closer and press their lips together.
“You’re so agitating.”
Jeonghan scoffed, “As if you didn’t waltz in this Goddamn country, determined to rule when you don’t even have the slightest idea what it’s like to live here.”
“I’m trying, I moved here full-time and I’m willing to learn but my grandma’s determined to step down soon and I need to ascend.” Mingyu didn’t know why he was being so honest to someone he was supposed to hate. It was probably an intimidating tactic, a way for Jeonghan to find out more about what makes Mingyu worry and crack. “Isn’t that enough?”
“The fact that you’re still doubting yourself makes me think that you’re not ready yet.” The older said as-a-matter-of-factly before walking away and Mingyu was disappointed when he could no longer smell Jeonghan’s minty aftershave. “You’re the prince of Gwangju, this country, start acting like it.”
It should sting him, Jeonghan’s words, it should have driven a stake into his heart. If he felt that Jeonghan’s claims weren’t backed by facts, he would have been mad about it, getting angry over the fact that the older thought he knew better than the other. But he didn’t find the need to defend himself since he thought that Jeonghan’s words held some truth in it – even for a little.
“And it also doesn’t help that you picked Kwon Soonyoung over any other eligible bachelors in the country,” Jeonghan added.
“You just said he’s a nice guy.” Mingyu raised an eyebrow, confused with the sudden change of heart towards his fiancé.
This time, the older man snickered, “I just think he’s not good enough to be Prince Consort.”
“And you are?”
The sudden surge of courage came out of nowhere and this made Jeonghan smirk – barely noticeable – as it finally dawned on him that their arguments, stemming from the attraction that both of them undeniably shared.
It was the second time that Mingyu saw Jeonghan up close and already he could feel his blood rushing and his heart accelerating. Every time – the two times – he saw the older man it felt like he’d left his common sense at home, like he’d risk everything – the throne, the wedding, the continuity of the royal family – for the other. Like there had always been an unspoken connection between them. (Or maybe just a prince wanting someone he could never have, as usual).
“Do you think I am?” He moved closer, the scent of his aftershave coming back to Mingyu’s senses.
Mingyu held his breath when they were so close it’d just take one really strong wind from the beach below for him to lean in and press their lips together.
“I don’t know.” Mingyu breathed out, it felt like a ton of bricks were sitting on his chest. “You for sure talk a lot about ruling the kingdom, then you should know about it, no?”
Jeonghan closed in on him, minimizing the gap between them, one tug and they’re pressed against each other in a lighthouse that should soon be one of Mingyu’s rites of passage before taking an oath in the palace and becoming king. Soonyoung’s family heirloom weighed down his hand – the need to serve his people much outweigh his desire to kiss the man standing in front of him.
“I know I’d look good beside you on the royal portrait, Your Highness.”
That was what it took for the older man to completely crumble down the prince’s defenses. He took pride in thinking that he had a lot of self-control, a consciousness not a lot of people possessed, a common sense that most people lacked – that’s why he’d make a good king. He’d never made rash decisions before, never let his emotions control him, had always upheld facts and statistics over feelings.
Of course for him the acceptable course of action would be to stay with Soonyoung, marry him and become king in 2 weeks. That was supposed to be the path he stuck with – he’d be a good king with citizens that adored him for his methods. Settling down with Soonyoung was the safest option, the acceptable one.
But of course history had always seen a larger share of misbehaving royals – the ones who rebelled, the ones who took the harder routes, the ones who did things with their lack of better judgment – than the ones who behaved well.
And in that lighthouse, with the sea breeze entering through the crack of the old wooden windowpane, history had repeated itself once again when Mingyu put his hand behind Jeonghan’s neck and pulled him closer. Jeonghan didn’t pull away, didn’t put his hands on Mingyu’s chest, didn’t avoid Mingyu’s lips.
For once, when Jeonghan’s fingers were in his hair and all over his face, Mingyu was not the crown prince. He was not his father’s son, not his halmeoni’s grandson, not the soon-to-be King of Gwangju. He was Kim Mingyu – the lover, the boy scared to take the throne, the man who’d just turned 24 and still couldn’t fully stomach the responsibility of ruling over a kingdom – kissing Yoon Jeonghan.
For once, it felt great to do what he wanted to do, not what he needed to do. For once, it felt like the prince could get his happily-ever-after after all.