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Summary
“Things aren't like when father was King, Chan made sure of it. This is your home as much as it is ours, Minho.” The younger’s eyes were kind, brow pinched in uncertainty— Like Minho was gonna run at the first opening of the doors. He smiles, unlinking their arms and patting the younger on the head.
”I’m not a boy Fe, you shouldn’t treat me as such.”
The younger smiles, a sad, worried thing. “That is not what I’m worried about.”
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“Hyunjin.. I-I don't know about this. I feel stupid.”
”Nonsense Jisung, you look great. Besides, you're just acting as my second for the record.”
The older’s chin hooks over his shoulder, humming slightly as he takes in the sight of the two of them in the multiple floor length mirrors. Jisung shys in on himself, the flowing fabrics of blue and teal being a striking contrast from his normal Dornish yellows and golds.
Or
Minho is a Targaryen Prince, Jisung is a Dornish spy— they fall in love, but it can’t always be that simple.