Archive of Our Own ^beta

He was always told that he had many faults, but he was the only one to know the biggest one: believing he had a choice.

He still had the smell of horses in his nostrils when Jeongguk took off his carriage and set foot on the wide pavement in front of the capital’s castle. King Jeonggang’s ball had gathered every single heir and ruler from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms, as it does every year at the beginning of the season.

Nobles and knights had crossed the woods and sailed the seas to present their smiling faces and their deepest condolences to the king - the queen had passed away before the start of the new year. It was the perfect opportunity for each of them to make a name for themselves in society and show the king how much their devotion was intact. To show the faces that had been close to him in that moment of mourning.

Jeongguk knew that many of them had learned of such a tragedy only a few weeks before, others even imagined a poisoning against the queen - they loved gossip more than anything else. They doubted that such a beautiful queen could have died of natural causes, but they completely ignored the disease that had been dragging on for years. They were just too careless to notice his countless absences during the most important occasions, as they themselves had not been invited to attend.

He too would have liked to go without such a great farce for that season, but his father’s orders had been very clear: ‘ Travel in search of a wife and don’t come back until you have arranged a marriage.’ He knew well that his father spoke this because their kingdom was in danger of extinction as it lay in the midst of the mountains and the environment was becoming increasingly nasty by the rigors of winter. The promise of an alliance with another kingdom — perhaps more powerful and visible in the eyes of King Jeonggang — could have been their only solution. Jeongguk was the only son of a king of the mountains — he shouldn’t have even thought he had a choice.

And there he was. The capital’s castle was the greatest architectural masterpiece ever built in the Seven Kingdoms, and the longest to be built. It had taken at least three generations of rulers to complete that mammoth work of towers and spires — two generations of kings and queens to raise the walls around it and a long kingdom of settlement during which all the Seven Kingdoms had to go to pay homage to the capital, the city that had united all the others under one name and one king. From what he knew, even now after two centuries of prosperity for the capital there was the risk that, in remote and unreachable places of that vast continent, someone still had his doubts about the authenticity and power of their name.

The Park dynasty had laid the foundations of that castle and still lived there, but no one could be sure of how vast their power was. Not when a queen died. Not when the whispers of the mountains foretold a revolt.

Jeongguk took a moment, just one, to admire that imposing work of art, or at least try. Everywhere he looked, he saw towers that were several meters high. The storytellers told of maidens in the upper floors looking out the window and touching the clouds. He smiled at the thought of those fairy tales, but this is exactly how the queen, his mother, preferred to say good night. The stories reminded them that the snow of their mountains wasn't the only matter in existence, that somewhere there were princes and princesses dancing in the summer sun and towers that were lost in the sky.

Anyone other than him would have been lost to admire so much beauty — the light granite towers, the rampant arches and the rows of walls on which the royal guards walked at regular intervals, the courtyard beyond the walls and the statues of ancient and new gods who greeted the king’s way — but not him. It was the first time he stood in front of a royal palace that was not a huge block of thick stone, icy in winter and summer. He wouldn’t know where to look anyway. The novelty of the situation was overshadowed if he thought about why he was there to admire that castle, or if he thought about how physically tired he felt at that moment.

He had tried to sleep that morning when he arrived in the capital late, but without success. He had preferred not to be conspicuous and reside in an inn rather than in the royal apartments made available to anyone wishing to find a suitable accommodation at their rank. He didn't need to spend whole days in the midst of nobles prey to the euphoria of the festivities and who tried to approach each other for gossip. He had to listen to the cries of the innkeeper, the noise in the street under his window of merchants and commoners who opened the shops early in the morning, as well as a strange customer of the inn who at lunch had tried to sell him amulets with great insistence.

He had spent the last few hours trying to forget why he had arrived a day late and had to return to his real shoes in a hurry, despite the poor hours of sleep and the growing nervousness for that occasion. But he failed. Now he found himself in front of the palace of the capital, wearing the colors of his banner and no mask to prepare his face to go unnoticed.

A prince of the North like him could never have had any chance of not being noticed. Not when on his chest stood the golden coat of arms of a wolf and his night-dark hair was pulled back perfectly, leaving his face completely bare and exposed to anyone who had eyes to look. His diaphanous complexion couldn't be misunderstood by any inhabitant of the Summer for sure. He had inherited the dark eyes of his mother and the slender waist of the men in his family — not the hunters of the mountains, but the guardians. Years of training had molded his shoulders to give him a respectable look, and they had taken away the boyish air that kept hovering on his face. But the rigor of winter had completed his sculpture, giving him icy sharp features and a hard, shrewd look. The look of a wolf that had been forced out of its hunting grounds.

Under that sky that turned dusk, Jeongguk felt just like a creature of the woods forced out in the sunlight. He hadn't imagined that his first time at a ball in the capital could be so exhausting before starting the evening, and certainly standing there on the pavement in front of the immense staircase that led to the great golden gates of the castle wouldn't lead him anywhere. There were small groups of nobles who continued to arrive by carriage not far from him and took those stairs with trepidation; people didn't escape certain details. He wouldn’t have made a good impression if he’d just kept standing there unannounced.

He decided to move his legs towards the staircase, holding a gloved hand firmly on the hilt of the sword that hung heavily along his side. 

It wouldn't have been allowed to bring weapons around the capital if it hadn't been a special occasion like a royal ball. A knight or a prince without his armor could not be considered as such in the eyes of most. He had obtained that permission and he had been more than happy: he wouldn't have tolerated turning in the midst of all those hostile faces without something to keep him anchored to the present, to his roots.

He climbed one step after another for what seemed like an eternity, mentally counting how much he still lacked. The Park dynasty loved numbers and symmetries, legends told of one hundred and fifty steps plus one to get to the golden gates of the castle. One hundred and fifty were the symbolic years that the rulers had spent building the castle, but the extra step was the promise of a future in continuous evolution. Jeongguk would have smiled at that umpteenth nonsense of rulers had it not been for the suffocated whispers of the nobles who went up that staircase with him.

He forced himself to concentrate on his name and his titles (as if he did not know them by heart), and then to review briefly all the names and houses that he remembered existing in the Seven Kingdoms. He knew that they were much more than the ones who told the legends and that he would forget more than he wanted, but at least he kept his thoughts firm and away from that slimy feeling of being constantly observed by those around him.

A prince of the North didn't move to the heart of the kingdoms for nothing. He knew what it would look like to those bored nobles, but he couldn’t say they were wrong. He was there for a reason and he wouldn’t be distracted.

One hundred and fifty-six steps later he stretched his shoulders and tried to embrace with his eyes as much as he could see from the raised entrance. The royal gardens, the parallel lakes that extended more than the gaze could contain, the sky that turned at dusk and cast shadows in the middle of the rows of trees... Jeongguk found himself inhaling the sparkling evening air and sighing at it shortly after, feeling his shoulders curling under the weight of his thoughts. Those weren’t his mountains. He would never have been able to hunt in such a territory, where spring reigned supreme and the nobles loved to swim in the lakes instead of admiring the icy expanses of water that glittered in the moonlight.

He turned reluctantly and walked towards the golden gates of the castle without looking back.

He knew the drill. Find the pageboy in charge of the evening’s presentations, deliver the invitation he had carefully folded in his uniform pocket, descend other steps that would take him to the great hall where the ball was being held while his name was announced, together with his lands and his noble titles. Wouldn’t be a long list, though. A king of the North did not have many fortresses and castles to maintain — only a large and imposing castle in a pass of his mountains.

Jeongguk crossed the entrance with the other nobles who followed him. There were two parallel rows of royal guards watching over them from the sides of the atrium, motionless and impassive as required by their role. Jeongguk knew he had to admire the architecture, the golden vaults that stretched over their heads, the statues of the gods and rulers embedded in the niches of the golden walls, but all he could think of was that no one, not even the royal guards, had a weapon like his hanging at his side. He wondered if it was legitimate to walk with such a broadsword, wondering if it was for this reason he continued to attract the looks of the nobility on himself, but it was clear that many excuses didn't apply to those people to stare at a king of the North.

He remembered his face was exposed. He noticed with a certain irritation some of the girls who were walking with their parents or brothers and who in turn showed their faces without any mask, he was certainly not blind to the looks he felt on himself.

He was a prince of the North, he had a warrior’s sword at his side, and he was a bachelor. He was certainly not the only prince who came to that event to look for a wife, but probably many of those girls went to official events as much as he did. A single outing a year was allowed for them, furthermore finding a husband on that occasion wasn't a very different purpose from his.

If only he hadn’t had the ghost of his lips still on his skin.

Jeongguk pushed his tongue against his cheek as he continued to advance, trying to shake off that wave of irritation caused by that one lazy thought that had managed to escape his iron grip. He shouldn't have even imagined that he could linger in such crap, in a night spent with a stranger like many that had only made him waste time to sleep and prepare for an event that would change his life.

Find a person without a mask, well-adjusted and at least decent enough to imagine spending a lifetime together. That’s all. No choice or distraction whatsoever.

He had sore eyes and leaden legs when they finally arrived at their destination. All that pomp was so different from the bare stone of his castle that it made his head spin. He didn’t think he could ever live in such a place; not when he lacked sleeping hours that weighed on his shoulders, not when the only shimmer he had always been accustomed to was that of the steel blades of their blacksmiths and the snow coats that covered their mountains.

He and other nobles waited for their turn. The long entrance that they had crossed had led them to the top of other stairs, other long corridors in which the guests waited to be able to advance in the great hall and finally descend under the eyes of all present. The side corridors were full of tapestries and other gold that Jeongguk didn’t even stop to look at, despite the fact that he could do nothing but stand with his hands crossed behind his back and wait to proceed. The nobles spoke behind and before him, but his mind was elsewhere.

"My lord, is there much more to wait?"

It had been a few minutes of waiting when Jeongguk heard that voice behind him. He was tempted not to look back at the noble title he had used, but he was quite sure he wasn’t addressing others. When he turned around, he already knew the face he was going to find, even though he didn’t want to be sure until the very end.

The young man straightened his back and made a half-bow, a clever smile on his lips that he had almost forgotten. "A wolf coming out of its lair is a rare and remarkable event. I was hoping it was you, Prince Jeon."

Jeongguk smiled in spite of himself, finding his body between the arms of his old friend before realizing he was hugging him. He didn’t usually indulge in such displays of affection, but that was another matter altogether. "How many formalities for his lordship," he muttered over his shoulder, patting a hand between his shoulder blades. "It’s been a long time, Namjoon."

"An eternity" confirmed the other by putting his hands on his shoulders, pulling back as if to admire him from afar. He shook his head wide-eyed, the bear’s blazon shining on his blood-red suit didn’t escape the eyes of the North’s prince. "Look at you. Still playing with wolves under the walls of your snowy castle?"

"Your consideration of me has not improved with time, I see."

"I find it hard to recognize you," Namjoon admitted, letting his arms fall back down his body and stepping back. Jeongguk knew there were prying eyes and ears in that waiting corridor, but it didn’t seem to bother the man with broad shoulders and a friendly smile. Interacting with a Viscount of the Great Woods might have helped his reputation as an icy and unattainable prince. It was known that the Lords of the Woods were always present at the official events of the capital. Those who supplied the greatest quantity of game in all the kingdoms and those who organized long and exhausting summer holidays to which practically everyone was invited.

However, Jeongguk didn’t know that viscount because he had spent a summer with him. "You haven’t seen yourself lately," he commented with a smile that still tickled his lips. He couldn’t help it in front of someone like Namjoon. "Last time you didn’t have a blazon on your chest, if I’m not mistaken."

Namjoon laughed briefly, his eyes curled in laughter and his head bent down. "You’re right, Jeon. I have to admit that this piece of junk weighs more than I thought when we were fifteen."

"I’m sure of it." Jeongguk hesitated for a moment, then said, "I’m sorry about your father. Really."

Namjoon closed his lips with a bitter smile and nodded briefly, his hands behind his back. He wasn’t much taller than Jeongguk, but his body size was clearly more impressive than that of the young prince of the North. "We received your wolves. My mother did not cry so much reading letters from other houses." Then, looking him straight in the eye with that green mottled look, he added, "We’re still waiting for your visit, you know?"

"I know," Jeongguk muttered, looking elsewhere. He had never been able to hold the eldest gaze when he knew he was wrong, even after years and years of honorable service as guardian of the North and an official investiture as prince. Even a wolf feared going too deep into the woods. "I didn’t think it was necessary after all."

"Think too much," Namjoon replied. He didn’t seem irritated, just pragmatic. He was putting him in front of unsolved facts for a long time and he did it with the simplicity that had always characterized him. As when they fell from the walls of the castle and treated his wounds before anyone noticed; as when he had defended him in front of his father one night they had returned late from their raids and had managed to convince him that they were lost. "You know I can’t help but enjoy having you back at the Silver Oak."

Jeongguk smiled slightly and nodded. He knew that anxiousness made him take on nervous tics that he never wanted to show— not in public, not in front of him — so he tried to hold back the urge to push his tongue against his inner cheek and struggled to look at him. 

The Viscount always had that cordial smile, waiting for the others to melt in their turn in a similar smile, always aware of the reactions of others, always ready to forgive whatever seemed an insurmountable problem in the eyes of the youngest. Looking at the world with his own eyes would have been just what he needed at the time, but Jeongguk knew he could never be like him.

Not when he still had the taste of rain and a stranger he met in the woods on the king’s way.

"Thank you," Jeongguk finally muttered. "I’ll make something up. My father is too worried with himself and the succession to notice a field trip in the woods."

Namjoon raised his eyebrows with a grin, anything but serious. "Is the old wolf afraid to kick the bucket before seeing a grandson?"

"Yeah," Jeongguk chuckled without cheer. He extended his arms and then dropped them down his hips. "That’s why I’m here."

"And I thought the guardians of the North wanted to offer their condolences to the old king." The viscount tilted his head to the side without making a crease. They both knew that if prying ears were really listening it might create an unpleasant situation for both of them, but the Lord of the Woods knew how much the Park dynasty owed to its beloved woods. The protection that wolves and bears provided to the crown went beyond any public display of devotion. "So does the prince have to marry?"

"As it turns out."

"I never imagined it. When I greeted the granite walls I did not expect that one day you would actually fly away from the nest."

"Weren’t your metaphors about wolves and burrows a moment ago?"

"Always the picky one." Namjoon burst out laughing loudly enough to make some nobles turn around, but not even Jeongguk paid attention to them that time. Hearing one of his childhood favorite sounds again was priceless. He noticed only casually that the line was advancing as he too melted into a laugh, more subdued than that of the major but still sufficient to relieve some of the pressure in his chest. "So what? Do you already have an idea of a suitable accommodation for a prince of the North?"

"Don’t talk to me like that," Jeongguk complained, "You make it sound so serious..."

"Gods of heaven, Jeon! Isn’t it?" The Viscount chuckled, trying to keep a light tone but the youngest was good at catching the nuance of reproach in his voice. "I didn’t think finding a wife was a bargain to play craps. You came all the way here for nothing?"

"No, of course not," Jeongguk objected, lowering his voice, suddenly aware that someone could actually hear them. He saw the Viscount approaching because he had understood that the youngest was trying to keep something hidden, he leaned towards him with his reassuring expression and for a moment, one too long, Jeongguk would have wanted to confide to him what he had been keeping inside for days, months. What seemed to stain his immaculate clothes and weighed more than the sword at his side. "My intentions are serious. Really. I’m just tired from the trip and the idea of coming back."

Namjoon gave him a long look, of those who dug deep into his heart and could always break through, despite the fact that it had been too many years since they had last seen each other. Not that it mattered, anyway. "Liar."

Jeongguk opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted before he could utter a word. "I don’t know what goes on in that icy head of yours from your mountains," the viscount began, speaking softly so that only he could hear. "But I’m sure it’s only a problem in your personal worldview. Winter has tried to give you a heart of ice but we both know that’s not the case at all."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Jeongguk muttered as he looked down.

The older man had all the air of being on the verge of giving him a scolding like it had not been for years and was only holding back because there were few presentations left before their turn, after which they would see each other again in the course of the evening only in passing. "Jeongguk" called him with that low, reassuring tone that melted the little boy who was still in him. "I hope that’s not what I think."

"What are you thinking?" he asked, even though he didn’t want to talk to him like that. He hated being condescending and secretive with him. It reminded him why they had to say goodbye.

As when he stood next to his father while he was pointing a finger towards Namjoon, a boy like him, accused of killing one of the royal wolves during one of their clandestine hunts. A hunt where Jeongguk had a bad aim with a bow, one that ended with Namjoon quickly choosing what was best for both of us. The dishonor that would have resulted in a son of the North for killing one of the kingdom symbols wasn't comparable to what he should have suffered, probably exile from their fortress but at least it would have been just an accident. Even though Namjoon was a perfect shot.

Namjoon looked at him until the younger man felt compelled to raise his head, seeing in him everything he should have been but could not become. A man who knew he didn’t have a choice but was still doing his best. "Is there someone else?" he asked in a whisper.

Jeongguk withdrew from him as if he had shouted a blasphemy. He knew it was neither the time nor the place to make a scene, but he hated that slippery knowledge that none of his secrets were safe with someone like him. He hated being so exposed that he turned out to be an open book — it was one of the reasons he decided he would never have any more distractions like that until he fulfilled his royal duties.

He knew he couldn’t hide anything about himself when his heart was involved.

"You’re overstepping," he hissed, staring him in the eye. "You shouldn’t talk to me like that in front of everyone. Not when I’m getting married."

"So you want to put it that way?" he said sarcastically. Jeongguk shuddered to hear the change in his voice but said nothing. He waited for him to continue, to give him one of his lectures, or to really decide to end that conversation he hadn’t even tried to retaliate against.

The seconds dragged one after the other, the wolf on alert keeping an eye on the bear ready to attack him, but they both knew it would only end in a bloodbath. There was no way either of them could get away with it — Jeongguk was a prince, Namjoon was the only one who ever had an idea of how uncanny someone like him might look. It was his greatest weakness. It reminded him of a time when he had a choice but preferred to let others choose for him.

That’s exactly how he felt at the time. Even then, he would have waited for the other to make the first move, annoyed by how much vulnerability he was always ready to show in his presence.

In the end, Namjoon gave in. "Fine," he said with a brief nod. "I see that the wolf loses his hair but not his vice. Isn’t that so, Jeon?"

Jeongguk tightened his jaw and simply stared at him, tightening the grip on his crossed wrists behind his back. He had taken the casual pose without realizing it, hating himself even more for that absolutely unnecessary detail but that contributed to give an image of himself that he didn’t want to show. Not with him.

Even if a wolf had to use his fangs to protect himself.

"Very well," Namjoon sighed and looked away, staring at a point beyond the younger man’s shoulder. He seemed suddenly bored with his surroundings, ready to look for the slightest excuse to recover some attention. Jeongguk knew he had lost that honor. "It should be your turn soon, Your Highness. I advise you to look ahead or you may miss your future."

Jeongguk welcomed the attack on the past and decided to turn around, feeling Namjoon’s gaze burning behind his head but believing it was the best thing. No distractions, no setbacks. Just like he wanted.

Just like his father wished it was a guardian of the North.

They announced his name and those behind him with a certain pomposity and slowness that only made him feel worse. He hated the way the audience’s eyes rose curious to hear the name of a prince of the North. Hated how his descent from the great staircase was welcomed by murmuring and looks of suspicion mixed with desire and how, instead, the Lord of the Woods behind him had been presented in such a way as to seem a kind of jovial liberator, ready to make conquests that he too could easily have obtained if people had not been so much afraid of a mountain wolf.

But what he hated most about that night was the sheer amount of bare faced guests. The few masks he found were mostly of ladies invited with their husbands and young betrothed, those loves that blossomed during the winter who were looking forward to the most lenient season.

He was invited to join several groups. It seemed like the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms wished to win first the honor of having spoken to the exotic attraction of that evening. It didn’t matter if a moment before they showed a distrust due to the confidentiality of the North— such an occasion wouldn’t have occurred for a long time. Jeongguk kept himself as far away as possible from all those attempts to be put on display as the new trophy of the season, while keeping a careful eye on the crowd of young women without masks and more than noble intentions.

It wasn’t easy but he began to adapt to the atmosphere of the evening. Each of those present wished only to show off a new dress, a new winter story, gossip about other guests and how they had learned from certain sources that the queen had not died of natural causes. Jeongguk stayed away from the dance floor for most of the evening, hoping to catch a glimpse of a girl he could approach to entertain a short conversation. Foreplay for a happy engagement, he presumed. He had to listen to small talks left and right for most of the time, but he pretended to be on top of one of his mountains all the time, imagining that he was surrounded by air and frost and nothing else in the world.

He got pretty good over time. He had chosen to fix his gaze mostly on the raised balconies of that huge hall, where the royal family and the highest royal officials were to oversee the evening. From his corner Jeongguk saw two equal-sized thrones: the King Jeonggang's one, occupied by none other than the king himself, and that of the late queen. The king with his grizzled beard stood with his heavy gaze lost somewhere in the dance floor, while an official with numerous medals pinned on his heart tried to talk to him for several minutes but meeting only silence.

Jeongguk couldn’t look away, even though he knew he shouldn’t have been so obvious in turning his attention to a king. He wondered if that was exactly his father’s gaze a few months after his mother’s disappearance. He wondered if he had ever noticed the emptiness in front of him. He knew the answers very well, though he preferred to ignore them.

His father couldn’t feel that bewilderment, since his center had never been his wife.

He forced himself to look elsewhere when he noticed the strange turn of his thoughts. He saw a third chair to the king’s right, smaller than the other two, but lined with red like the others. He frowned because that chair was empty, too, and he didn’t remember anyone sitting there since he was in that room. He knew that the Park dynasty could count numerous heirs and bridesmaids in their ranks, but he didn’t think that any of them should have that place up there above the ballroom. He couldn’t even remember one of their names his mother used to sing him to sleep, yet he was sure they were more than just a chair.

More than once he was distracted by noble maidens hovering around him waiting to be invited to dance, but in addition to a few phrases of circumstance and gentle nods they had nothing else from the prince of the North. He felt like honey in the middle of a swarm of bees, unable to understand how his solitude and privacy could still attract so much attention in a single evening.

He knew he didn’t have to do this and he had to at least try to find decent company, but it was stronger than him. He still had in his ears Namjoon’s words and in his chest the heaviness that hadn’t left him since that morning, when he dismounted from his horse at dawn and had thrown himself into a warm bath prepared quickly by one of the inn’s maids. He hadn’t stopped thinking about how wrong it was to throw oneself headlong into yet another demonstration of loyalty to his father and his kingdom, even though he saw no alternative.

Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe he kept looking back to a past that couldn’t and never could have given him what he needed. Maybe he should have just looked ahead .

And ahead was what Jeongguk was watching. In the middle of the dance floor, where he would have to look for those girls who seemed so interested in him but never the other way around. Right in the midst of the crowd of noble young men and girls— where he could have chosen anyone and anyone would have been happy to talk and dance throughout the evening— someone caught his attention.

He couldn’t see his face. He had thick, shiny, blond hair that reminded him of summer more than anything he’d ever seen. His toned body, almost as trained as his own, though apparently much more agile, was wrapped in a burgundy red suit, darker than Namjoon's. He felt his heart skip a beat at the idea of what that kind of red could mean. There was no possibility of misunderstanding when it was the same nuance he had seen for days on the king’s way, on banners and in the streets. It had become the color of feasts and his nightmares — that shade of red that reminded him terribly of the blood that flowed from his wounds. Dense, creepy, charming in its own way. He was dancing with a masked bridesmaid, silver dress touching the ground, her collected hair of a beautiful hazelnut color. He might have recognized a daughter of the West if he had only paid attention to her, but she wasn’t the focus of his thoughts.

That bearing was damn familiar. If he had been close enough, if only he could have come forward without sounding too suspicious, too inclined to approach that crowd of dancing nobles without drawing on himself any more trouble, perhaps...

Jeongguk stopped the moment he realized he didn’t need it. He was on the verge of moving steps in that direction, deliberately unaware of his eyes so intent and focused for the first time since he had set foot in the palace, but for a fraction of a second that person turned around. He doubted that he was really going to do it, it was a gesture of courtesy to the bridesmaid who was taking leave, but there he was.

Him.

He couldn’t confuse him with anyone else in the world. Not that day. Not after that night.

He didn’t even know his name, he realized as he felt his strength flow out of his body. He stared at him for an instant as long as an entire evening, perhaps trying to convince himself that tiredness and boredom were playing a trick on him.

It couldn’t have been him. Wouldn’t it have been easier if lightning struck him out of the blue? Why choose such an absurd, complicated, crazy way to tell him he’d made the biggest mess of his life?

Because Jeongguk knew who those nimble shoulders belonged to, that regal and casual bearing. He knew the line of his back — and that of his perfect ass . He knew details that he wanted to forget with all of himself but that now they were there, in front of him, to hold his immense stupidity against him.

And perhaps he should have noticed many other things that night in the rain chasing after a horse he had never seen or expected to meet again. Perhaps he should have thought with something other than his dick, thinking that the knight’s cloak was the same red, the horse’s bridles were the same color that haunted his dreams. He should have noticed. He should have thought , even for a moment, that a stranger in the night was not a good idea.

It wasn’t one of his usual thoughts when he felt he needed a distraction like that, Namjoon had been telling him since they had started their night-time escapades, but he just didn’t want to listen when it came to certain matters. He counted on the total discretion of the people with whom he laid and the money that he didn’t fail to give them whenever such incidents occurred.

Perhaps he should have understood it from his cloak, from his horse, from the rainy night when no one with an ounce of self-love would ever set foot outside; from the fact that the stranger hadn’t accepted his money and had moved his hand in contempt. He believed it was simply an immense modesty — perhaps he had deluded himself for a moment that he might be able to love.

Jeongguk felt the bile rise in his throat at that thought. At the thought of love .

It couldn’t have been anything like that, but he hadn’t listened to the voices in his head. He needed so much distraction he didn’t realize the obvious.

So much so that he didn’t see that the dark red he saw on that man’s body was the same red as the armchairs on the top of the hall, the same as the banners and the royal guards.

So the gods could strike him dead on the spot, but that was the red of the Park dynasty for generations.

And that man a few feet from him was none other than one of his heirs.

The king’s way had no deviations. It wasn’t contemplated that a royal procession could deflect to enjoy the view, to explore the woods and enter territories potentially dangerous for his person. All merchants and travelers followed the king’s path — the safety of the straight path and getting to your destination smoothly wasn’t something you could give up.

Jeongguk hated to be told what he should and should not do, especially outside his kingdom. He never happened to pass through rows of trees like it was always spring, he had never seen lakes thawed in his life. A few book miniatures, a trip he didn’t remember much about at the Silver Oak, perhaps. Nothing that could make him ride for hours on end and think that everything he saw was the exact opposite of what his home was like.

That’s why he ended up lost, just a few miles from the capital.

That night he should have been in an inn, away from royalty and nobles for at least two days. He would have had to prepare properly for an official reception in which he’d have had to give the best of himself, if not for himself at least for his people and his father. He knew he couldn’t afford detours in the rain, but he couldn’t resist.

He had heard that someone was approaching the gallop. He knew the signs of someone nearby even in bad weather. The hooves of the horses sank more easily into the ground, the sounds of rain could also cover the neighing of the horses but made them confused and hasty at the same time. A horse trying to chase another couldn’t be so discreet, despite its rider.

He had waited spurring his steed. He wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone in those rainy woods, not even when the only light was the stars above his head and the lights of the capital at the valley’s bottom. He had managed to hide himself in the trees as best he could. From the approaching hooves he understood that the steed and his knight had known nothing but the king’s way. He’d wait for them to pass before him and then try to figure out if it was worth capturing that unexpected prey or letting it go.

Perhaps his imagination ran a little too fast after all those hours spent on a horse, but he had to entertain himself in some way. It had been a long and tiring day and he had found the right path for a pure coincidence; he wouldn’t let ruin his arrival in the capital for some vaguely suspicious knight.

When he finally saw the steed go through the woods where he was trying to hide, he had no doubt that it was nothing to worry about. He didn’t see well at all, the rain kept producing a subdued noise on his heavy hood and it was late enough not to distinguish the shapes to perfection, but he had hunted in worse conditions than those. He saw how the rider tried to push the horse as far as possible in that pouring rain, perhaps in an attempt to return home before the flood worsened and it was impossible to keep the horse in those conditions. He may have known how to stay on the horse despite the bad weather and his moaning in the dark of the woods, but he was certain that he was not accustomed to all this.

Jeongguk had felt a thrill of defiance running down his neck and found himself smiling in the darkness of the evening. He wondered if that knight would have been able to keep up with him if he had really tried.

He sank his heels into the sides of his horse as black as night and shouted an incitement, spurring him on a race he looked forward to more than his bed in the inn. It’s not in the nature of a wolf to be hunted by any prey. Perhaps his need for distraction became more important than any ball or responsibility that crowded his mind until just before; however, he didn’t stop to wonder so much when he felt the hunting instinct running through his veins and stretched his eyes in the dark to better point the knight and his red cloak, almost to the point of shouting him to be chased, caught.

So Jeongguk stood behind the stranger’s stallion, both of whom were thrown into a race in the pouring rain.

The king’s way was a path away from their trajectory when they found themselves emerging into a wide clearing surrounded by the woods they had covered up to that moment. Jeongguk noticed it was the prelude of a slope, which was about to descend towards the first houses of the city. The glade itself seemed to him to be fenced off, perhaps a space for the pasture where they shouldn’t have been. He didn’t care, however.

He didn’t know whether to draw the attention of that rider or continue to follow him like this, his back bent over his horse’s neck to better face the ride and the rain beating directly on his head now. He had noticed that he had lost his hood as he came out of the woods a few seconds earlier, but his fingers tightened around the horse’s bridle and didn’t seem to move.

The knight less than twenty meters from him had not yet turned, not even once. He could have slowed down, or at least wondered why there was someone following him exactly as he had done before with him. He had understood that it was a poor attempt to follow in his tracks as a more experienced hunter in order not to lose the king’s way, but now that they were both out of it he didn’t understand that obstinacy in riding on, heading towards the capital as if his life depended on it.

Jeongguk saw the fence before the rider in front of him. He quickly moved his gaze from that line still in the distance to the back of the stranger with wrinkled eyebrows, still waiting a few moments to see if he was going to jump with that bad weather or he was just blind.

He waited another three seconds. The fence was in front of them, although neither of them was slowing down. Jeongguk stretched out the bridle of the horse, ready to tack if the rider had decided to risk his head and jump, or to make the horse soar and fall ruinously. Come on , he found himself thinking with his eyes fixed on his back. Choose. Don’t stop. Choose.

In the end the knight chose to jump.

Jeongguk found himself screaming when he saw the figure wrapped in his cloak jump up so perfectly that it looked like a bird taking flight. It had been so sudden that he didn’t notice he had left the reins of the horse, his elbows propped up for a moment on the saddle and that he had knelt on the steed’s back to get up. He had a choking scream in his throat when he saw him landing with his arms outstretched and his boots firmly planted in the ground without any trouble, while the horse continued to advance up to the fence and stopped irremediably standing on its hind legs when it realized it had an obstacle.

Jeongguk cursed and abruptly pulled the reins of his horse, trained enough not to be intimidated by movements so sudden that he didn’t react as the other animal when he stopped pointing his hooves in the slippery ground, a few steps before that hooded figure standing there like it was nothing.

"Have you lost your mind?" Jeongguk yelled, dismounting from his horse as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t be enraged and run away. He jumped down heedless of the aching heels and the constant burning in the inner thigh, he held the horse’s reins and made it walk together with him. "What were you thinking, getting off your horse like that? What the hell are you doing out here in the woods?"

And just when Jeongguk thought he couldn’t be more annoyed by that abrupt interruption, he felt a subdued laugh coming from the stranger, who in the meantime was smoothing his cloak. His horse had stopped next to a tree at the fence’s edge, where Jeongguk made great strides and tried to secure both reins between curses that would have made his father shudder.

"You were following me," he exclaimed as he did, turning to him again and raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the storm. "You better tell me who you are, sir."

"I am not a sir," answered a caressing voice like dripping honey. "And you don’t seem to be headed anywhere either if you didn’t hesitate to push me like that."

Jeongguk tightened a hand on the hilt of his sword at his side and marched in his direction. "You better not hide like this. I could take your horse and escort you to the capital until you tell me who you are."

"I am no stranger than you in this night," replied the hooded figure, but before Jeongguk could see it, he slammed his chest against his own and wrapped him in his cloak, clasping his hands behind his neck and drawing him into a furious kiss.

The Prince of the North let go of an exclamation of surprise against the lips that turned out to be incredibly soft, even if committed to devouring him in a kiss that had nothing kind. He instinctively tightened the grip on his sword and for a moment he kept his eyes wide, trying to see under the hood that the stranger was wearing.

He just looked like a boy.

The stranger backed off enough to look at him in turn, sliding fingers through his hair soaked in rain and letting the hood discover his head. His hair was brighter than the stars, his eyelashes had caught raindrops that slowly fell on his rosy cheeks, while his lips were so soft to the touch, now slightly open. For a moment he wasn’t even sure he was a boy considering how delicate his features seemed, barely illuminated in the darkness of the night and very far from his own, hard and sharp as the ice of his mountains.

"You were looking for a challenge," breathed the stranger on his lips. "The winner gets the prize, doesn’t he?"

Jeongguk felt the heart beating in his throat as those lips touched his own with renewed delicacy, despite the rain pressing on them and still having his hand on his sword. From what he could see under his cloak, he didn’t look armed - not like him. He was sure he saw how much he was armed but he chose to kiss him like that anyway.

Maybe he was an incredibly stupid or damned reckless stranger, maybe he was too tired to fight back. He still felt all his nerves in the air as the boy’s hands slid through his hair and stroked his back, until one of them went down and down and stood on his wrist, covering his hand holding the sword. "I saw it glowing in the dark," he muttered with excitement, breathing in as much as he could under the storm. "Are you a prince, stranger?"

"What the hell is..."

"Leave hell alone," the other interrupted, "No one can see us. How are winners awarded in your kingdom?"

"Who said anything about..." Jeongguk tried to speak again but was interrupted by the stranger’s teeth that sank into his lips, causing him to breathe gasp right into his mouth. He didn’t even know when it was the last time someone had treated him like that, but what surprised him most was the way the boy’s grip shook on his hand over his sword, as if he wanted to keep it there.

I know that your sword could break me in two , he seemed to say. I’m not going anywhere.

Jeongguk felt all the exasperation of the journey, the tiredness, the months he spent recommending to himself not to indulge in any distraction, any deviation from training and the affairs worthy of a prince. He felt his shoulders loaded with a burden that he didn’t want to be destined to carry, and yet there it was, in all its consequences and predictions for the future. He could clearly hear every drop of rain crashing on his head, the lightning in the distant skies raging over their heads, yet there he was, throwing away everything he had carefully tried to build, with a stranger whose face he could barely see.

He felt all this, just as he felt his muscles strain under the gentle touch of that stranger, ready to snap like a wild wolf. He knew he could choose countless better ways than to put his responsibilities aside, even for one night, and yet he couldn’t help but think, ‘ What could be wrong with a night in the rain? What could possibly go wrong on a detour from the king’s way? ’

The dim lights of the capital were in sight when he closed his eyes.

He dragged his resistance and the stranger with him, clasping his arm around his slender waist and pulling it backwards, his lips stubbornly pressed on his like he was still trying to convince himself it was a good idea.

He didn’t succeed, but at least he had the good sense to seek a solution with as little damage as possible.

"You’ll catch a cold if we stay here under the storm," he muttered harshly against his lips, without hinting at diminishing his grip on his hips. "A barn. There must be..."

"One like that?" the stranger whispered, nodding his head to their left. Jeongguk looked back and narrowed his eyes, actually seeing what he was talking about. He knew that this was a pasture area but he didn’t think he was lucky enough to find a dry place like the one they had a few tens of meters away.

He swallowed the last trace of doubt and resistance and whispered, "Come with me", before grabbing the foreigner’s arm with urgency and leading him to the horses secured next to them. He heard no protest from the stranger, only a subdued laugh that despite the fog in his head couldn’t help but appreciate. He couldn’t remember when it was the last time he felt that warmth in his lower abdomen from a stranger’s laugh.

He didn’t even think to separate from him for a moment. Maybe he was afraid that if he got back on his horse, he’d change his mind and leave him alone in the clearing. Perhaps he was afraid that he too would disappear, like all the good things he had found in recent years. Sooner or later they all went away. In a way, he really believed that stranger was his prize.

He didn’t win, but he wouldn’t let him run.

He still had a clenched hand on the hilt of his sword when he tapped his backside to incite him to get on his horse. Practical, detached. A work to be accomplished. He noticed, however; the blond looked at him from under his hood when he climbed on his black horse - as if he was as surprised as he was at that gesture, but it couldn’t be said that he was unhappy with it.

He was studying him , Jeongguk noticed when he mounted on the steed in front of him, not waiting for the other to stand and inciting the horse to jump forward, followed by the horse of the stranger whose reins he had secured to those of his animal. He felt his hands rushing to cling to his belt to hold on, though he doubted that was their purpose. Not when he saw the way he got off his horse just before.

"I like you, my lord," he felt the stranger’s breath break by his ear as he galloped, "You know how to make a decision."

You left me no choice , Jeongguk thought with a kind of repressed bitterness, ignoring everything that resembled a rational thought in that couple of minutes that took to move the horses to the barn entrance, bigger than it seemed in the distance. He ignored the increasing swelling in his trousers that didn’t favor the ride even a little, despite the foreigner’s hands being lower than his belt than he wanted.

The prince slowed the horse’s pace just enough to make sure there were no houses in sight, let alone lights in the barn. He had already ruled out both hypotheses considering the breadth of that clearing, probably used only as a pasture field occasionally - certainly it didn’t look like a place to leave the animals when there were stormy nights like that.

He slid down from the horse and held the reins of his and the stallion in tow, hastening to open the clearly abandoned barn doors to take everyone inside for shelter. The barn was long enough to comfortably hold ten rows of animals, but as expected it was deserted at that time. He wouldn’t have seen beyond his nose had it not been for the more or less regular illumination of some lightning that tore the sky.

He looked around cautiously, perhaps still expecting that at any moment a peasant armed with a pitchfork would appear to drive him and his immense recklessness away, but he silenced even that senseless thought once and for all by letting his horse into a small paddock, where he found some straw that seemed still fresh. Maybe the owners of that place, if they were still there, had recently moved the beasts, or maybe they thought it best not to leave them always there in such a rainy period as the beginning of spring.

He made sure that even the stranger’s horse was in one of the paddocks, stroking from time to time the head of his and the other steed, even if they didn’t seem troubled by the bad weather or the new situation. Perhaps they were both too tired to raise objections of any kind, not when they had just had the luxury of resting in a dry barn.

He spotted the stranger who had meanwhile slipped off his black horse before he closed the door to his paddock, while laying straw in front of the white stallion who turned out to be a splendid mare. He had always loved horses with a coat so white that it reflected the moonlight, but he didn’t think he would ever see one. In the North there were only horses darker than night, so that they weren’t confused with the snow that always covered their mountains. The guardians were proud to advance on the back of such animals, they’d never allow them to conform to the mountain's snow. Moreover, such white horses had to cost an exorbitant sum if considered their rarity.

"Is the horse really yours?" he wanted to know while securing the bolt to the second fence, undecided whether to turn or not. He shook away the dark cloak heavy with rain and hung it by the hood to a hook next to it, pulling back his hair from the forehead as best he could. "Indeed, do not answer me. I am almost certain that you have stolen it from some wretch on the king’s way."

"Do you have such a low opinion of me even if we don’t know each other at all?" the stranger chuckled behind his back. He was closer than he had realized, so much so that a few moments later he felt his delicate hands wrapped around his chest and flowing up to his pectorals, causing him to squint. "From my point of view, you too have a really interesting toy for someone who wanders in the woods at this time of night."

"I was lost," Jeongguk retorted harshly, swallowing a groan when the stranger’s fingers slipped over his abs with an exhausting slowness and came to close on his half-erection.

"So was I. We have something in common, then." The other’s voice was like silk that grazed his sensitive lobe and made him run a shiver down his back. He felt so damned exposed and he didn’t know if the feeling was pleasing to him or not; what he knew for sure was that, sooner or later, he would have to release his hand from the hilt of the sword. "How much were you lost, my lord ?"

Jeongguk let go of a sigh when the stranger’s grip tightened on the crotch of his pants. Got you , it seemed to mean as he slid his palm along his entire length. Mine . For the first time he felt so torn that he didn’t know if letting go would do more good than harm — maybe he wasn’t even as good at it as he used to be.

He should have let it go, it was said as a chant as the blond’s fingers barely rose to loosen the heavy belt from the golden studs that he had secured around his waist. If he had let him do it, he’d have had to deprive himself of his sword, yet he didn’t seem to be able to react under the stranger’s hands who, for his part, didn’t seem awkward at all as he took off the belt loop with expert gestures and left soft kisses on his neck.

Jeongguk felt him press a little more against his back, wrapping him completely with his arms and holding the belt with both hands, now that he was no longer holding on to his slender waist. He’s asking for permission , he realized after a few moments.

It was then that the prince lifted his hands and cupped them on those of the blond, stroking the back with his thumbs without caring about his suddenly heavier breath; not now that the pouring rain was just a muffled noise on the wooden planks of the barn. He slightly bent his head forward, letting the soft lips of the blond behind him run an imaginary line from his ear to the nape, kissing with a strange sweetness every inch of skin available even though it was wet from the rain.

"Stop me now," he whispered with his mouth pressed against his neck.

Jeongguk turned so abruptly that he surprised the blond behind him. He tightened the grip on his wrists painfully and fixed his eyes on his own. He was taller than him, he noticed with a certain ill-concealed triumph, just as he kept an eye on him as they pressed their bodies together and realized that his erection ended up on blond’s lower abdomen. He raised both eyebrows, keeping wrists and belt in his iron grip. "Stop?" echoed a breath away from his lips.

The young man, still hidden under his cloak, smiled mischievously. A creature with such sweet and delicate features could easily transform into a snake ready to bite him to poison. "You don’t look very good, my lord ," he said in a mocking tone. "Perhaps your honor prevents you from taking what your body desires so much."

What that reptile didn’t know was that wolves don't get subdued by creatures crawling through the woods.

"Do me a favor," he said, a moment before tugging on the stranger’s wrists so that the belt fell at their feet. He didn’t care about the clangor of the sword hitting the ground as he tossed both of the unknown’s wrists in one hand while with the other he pushed the hood down and held his fingers in his hair, pulling him in a kiss that looked rather like a bite. He tore a groan from his lips and felt the thrill of victory run through his veins, before pushing him away again and using both hands to make him drop his cloak at his feet once and for all. When he was rid of that annoying garment he took a moment to admire the stranger’s face, holding fingers under his chin and pulling it to himself with a satisfied smile. "Use this beautiful mouth of yours for something worthwhile from now on."

Jeongguk discovered that fucking a stranger in a barn full of straw and the pouring rain on the ceiling was easier than he’d ever expected.

Nothing about that night was gentle. Unable to use their cloaks as blankets, Jeongguk had to sacrifice one of his lighter cloaks taken from the bag attached to his horse’s saddle, extending it over the straw so that both could sit on it. The stranger didn’t waste a moment, his chest lifting under low giggles as Jeongguk laid on top of him, careful not to crush him, while they both tried to unbutton his jacket but still taking a lot of time. The stranger’s clothes were much simpler, considering that under the cloak he wore only a light white shirt with a few laces to stop the collar and loose pants.

The blond had insisted for the prince to get down on his knees while getting out of the uniform; in the meantime he had lowered his pants just enough to take his cock down his throat without blinking. Jeongguk had sighed loudly in the darkness of the barn, closing his eyes for the intense pleasure of that mouth so narrow yet so experienced in something that he personally had never tried. The stranger sucked off any trace of precum from the tip and continued to lick it to its full length, even after Jeongguk’s chest was fully exposed in the evening and asked to hurry up. The stranger didn’t seem on the same page, not even a little.

He continued staring straight into his eyes as minutes later he pushed himself inside him, shifting his gaze from time to time to contemplate those bitten lips hatching and letting go of sighs ready to turn into sharp groans as he began to move. He didn’t seem to feel pain for a moment, even though the only thing keeping his cock from friction was the saliva of the blond himself.

Not yet satisfied to see him moan under him, he wanted to tear out of his face even that arrogant grin he made every time he too let himself go with grunts of pleasure. With one arm around his waist, it was easy to sit and pull him over like he didn’t weigh anything, sliding his eyes on his face as he was forced to descend on his dick until he threw his head back and clasped his hands on the prince's shoulders to keep in balance.

He squeezed his fingers on that silky, candid skin until he left bruises on his hips, until he heard him moan in his mouth about his cock buried deep inside him and the bites on his neck at the same time. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get those moans out of his ears for a very long time. They reached high notes that made him moan in a low voice in his turn, unable to hold back when that boy seemed so lost in the pleasure he was taking on himself, descending on his member at his own pace.

He felt the orgasm dissolve every single tense nerve when it completely enveloped him, tearing off prolonged moans as he kissed the stranger with his mouth open. He poured into him holding his butt in his hands, while the blond’s seed stained the stomachs of both and came almost at the same time. They spent several minutes leaning their foreheads against each other before they decided to move, both with their eyes closed as they tried to calm the breaths on each other’s mouths. Jeongguk came out of him with caution and the stranger stretched out on the prince’s good cloak crossing his legs, his head resting on his chest and eyes closed as if he wanted to sleep.

Jeongguk didn’t remember when it happened exactly, but they probably both fell asleep at some point. He remembered his knuckles sluggishly running down the stranger’s back, caressing him slowly and almost carelessly. He remembered his mouth kneaded with sleep and fatigue and the stranger's lips again closed around his member — who knows how long he’s been awake. He remembered the tired sighs and the suffocated scream of the blond when he poured into him again, this time with his butt stretched in the air and his elbows resting on the cloak while the Prince of the North fucked him from behind with an impetuousness that would surely leave bruises.

"Tell me a story," the stranger had said after a while, lying by his side again. His voice was hoarse but still sweet as honey. It looked like centuries since Jeongguk had heard that kind of voice to keep him company; indeed, he didn’t believe he had ever had such a company in his life. The people he spent the nights with didn’t talk, not really. "Tell me a story they told you when you were a kid."

Jeongguk had found himself smiling, staring at the beams of the ceiling. The rain had diminished its intensity but hadn’t stopped altogether. Now it was reduced to a pleasant background in which they lost their whispers. "You would understand where I come from," he replied after a few seconds.

The stranger raised an eyebrow and stretched his lips in a smirk, sliding his fingertips over his chest. He had his face on the other hand and he was holding onto his elbow to look at him. "It must be a very famous place then. I thought you were a Lord of the Woods only known to his squirrel subjects."

"It would have been easier," Jeongguk muttered.

"Easier than what?" the stranger came dangerously close to his ear, leaving a light kiss on his temple. "You can tell me, young prince."

"How can you be so sure I am a prince?"

"You’re fucking kidding me, aren’t you?" the stranger chuckled. "Who else would walk around with a horse like that and a sword that looks like it just came out of the forges of the gods?"

"How flattering you are."

"Seriously, my lord. You must be someone important, but it doesn’t matter if you don’t want to tell me where you’re from. I just asked you for a story."

Jeongguk sighed. "My mother didn’t tell me many interesting stories. Many of the stories I know are interesting to those of my people, but I would probably end up boring you."

"Try me," the stranger whispered on his neck.

Jeongguk repressed the thrill caused by his warm breath on his skin and surrendered. He had never had to say anything like that out loud and hoped he wouldn’t be an idiot for it, but backing out wasn’t exactly in his nature. He tried as best he could, telling of castles and princes in the woods and mountains, trying to remember as much detail as possible about stories teeming with wolves and guardians treating them as their hunting companions. He knew it was terribly obvious to tell of his House’s coat of arms, but he had never been able to tell lies.

He was a stranger on a rainy night. May he think about anything he wanted about him and where he came from.

When he had finished the second story that came to his mind, he turned for the first time since he had begun, finding the stranger’s eyes half closed in the shadow of the barn. His gaze was serene, he seemed enveloped in a peace that Jeongguk never remembered having felt. His rosy, swollen lips from all the bites and kisses that night were barely lifted. "You have a beautiful voice, my lord," he muttered after a few moments. "You don’t speak like other people."

"How do I speak, then?" Jeongguk wanted to know, frowning. He would have expected many sarcastic and witty comments, but not that.

He saw the stranger smiling in the shadows. By now it must have been late even for the inns; it was that moment of the night when it was too late to sleep but also too early to be awake. Away from sunrise and sunset. All that remained was to talk and deceive the wait — two would have been easier than alone. "You talk like the ones who haven’t spoken in a long time."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means that," said the stranger, lifting himself on his elbow to put an arm on Jeongguk’s chest and speak with a breath from his face, looking him straight in the eyes. The prince of the North had never felt so overwhelmed, to the point that he couldn’t look at anything and anyone, only those in front of him. He couldn’t escape his gaze, nor his foolishness. He had been more naive than he wanted to believe. "Your words carry more weight than you can imagine. There are so many people who say so many things every day, but you... I don’t know, my lord. When was the last time you actually talked to anyone?"

Jeongguk did not answer. The stranger didn’t insist.

They were entwined together for what seemed like an eternity, listening to each other breathe, until Jeongguk felt the stranger’s breath slowing down before it became slow and steady. He had fallen asleep with his cheek pressed on his shoulder without saying a word, his hand still resting on his chest. Right at the heart. 

He never wanted to bring that memory out at that moment, but he couldn’t help but think back to when his mother came into his room when he was too young to face his nightmares alone and laid next to him in the bed. She said that if he concentrated enough, he could listen to her heart beat in order to calm down. She said that when two hearts are close enough to listen to each other, they would start beating in unison.

Perhaps it was exactly what he was looking for at that moment. A heart that beat at the same pace as his own.

Sweet drops of rain smoothed the barn’s roof when shy flashes began to seep through the boards. The dawn of his mountains had the same taste: the sun too tired to show itself, the clouds too thick to allow what the inhabitants of those places of the South would have called dawn . There was only one leftover, a pale imitation of the beginning of a new day.

Jeongguk began to feel the heaviness of a night spent lying on the ground, it took him a while to convince himself that it should never have lasted so long. The city was at their feet, he shouldn’t have hurried into the woods — and yet a strange stillness, as of those who have all the time in the world, had taken over him in the last hours. He felt his muscles still tense for the ride and that night’s activity , but he didn’t really feel tired. He rather felt the calm of a traveler who finally found his landing, when it wasn’t at all so. Although, for a brief moment...

No. He couldn’t have stayed any longer.

He forced his limbs to react, to move in some way to drive away sleep. He put a hand under the foreigner’s cheek on his shoulder and arranged for him to move his head over the cloak below, after which he sat with elbows on his knees and hands in his hair. He wished he had water to rinse his sleep out of his eyes, but the only source available was rainwater that would solve nothing. He took too much of it anyway.

"Are you leaving, my lord?"

The stranger looked at him with his eyes ajar. His kneaded voice of sleep had made him turn and now he realized how out of place was that figure lying there on the cloak above the straw. Those curvy legs and shiny hair didn’t seem to fit in at all — not that he himself was, but his tougher features and dark hair didn’t suggest a life spent in the Summer. Not like that guy.

"It’s dawn," he simply said. "You should leave too."

"If I do, I’ll never see you again," the other muttered in an almost whiny tone, closing his eyes and snuggling better on his pillow arm. "I don’t want to... Go back to sleep."

Jeongguk looked away, letting a smile out. "We have to go."

" We , what a beautiful word," sighed the stranger. "You take me away with you then?"

The Prince of the North sighed a laugh, "You are incredible" he muttered in half a voice, so he made to get up. It was a moment: he had knelt and then pulled on his heels and stood, when something firmly grabbed him by a wrist and brought him down, at his height. The stranger’s face was a breath away from his, suddenly sitting and alert. "At least tell me your name," the blond whispered, rolling his eyes on his lips as if he was enchanted. "I don’t even know your name..."

"Jeongguk." The stranger again met his gaze but said nothing. The Prince of the North cleared his voice, but his words remained a whisper in the night. "I doubt this will help you."

The stranger smiled on his lips. "It’s more than I hoped for."

The kiss they exchanged was different from the previous ones. The warm mouths moved one over the other in a slow dance, too slow, until Jeongguk withdrew with an urgent groan. He had to go. They had to go .

The dark-haired man clothed himself without giving himself time to think. Simple and sequential things were his thing, so he preferred to concentrate on one step at a time. Saddle the horses. Go down to the valley. All cities had an inn on the outskirts of the cities, so he would enter the first available. The horse in the stable, his things in the room, a hot bath.

He thought about the sequence of events so much and so methodically, leaving no room for sleep or emotion, that he almost jumped when arms no longer naked wrapped around his chest and held him to himself. He had been forced to put on his wet uniform and that contact would have been more annoying than anything else if he hadn’t heard a voice whispering in his ear: "Were you serious? Will you take me with you?"

Jeongguk turned in his arms with a sigh. He found the stranger’s face in the hollow of his neck, pressed to him as if he had no intention of letting him go. Maybe it was, or maybe it was just an attempt to waste his time. In both cases he had to appeal to all his willpower, to that shred of duty that he felt left to kiss his temple and say, "You know my name, but I can’t take you with me."

The stranger didn't move but squeezed his fingers between his shoulder blades. "Can’t you or won’t you?"

"Does it make a difference?"

"In my kingdom, yes."

"Yours is a very different realm from mine." Jeongguk felt a tinge of irritation as he spoke those words and tried to wriggle, but the foreigner’s hands rushed to his face and held him still. Or maybe the brunette let himself be intimidated by that gesture more than necessary. "I’m sorry, but…”

"You’re sorry?" the stranger echoed, pointing his ice eyes at his. "What place in the Seven Kingdoms is so cruel that it doesn’t understand the difference between duty and love?"

"Are we talking about love?" Jeongguk asked in a sarcastic tone even to his own ears. "It’s been a long, tender night, but now it’s time to get back to reality. I hope you understand that."

The stranger stretched his eyes slightly as if he had hit him. He didn’t even seem hurt or bothered by the words he’d spoken to him, just... surprised. As if he wasn’t expecting them at that moment. As if there was anything else he could have said in a situation like that.

After what seemed to him to be interminable moments, the stranger raised the corner of his mouth in a sort of smile. It looked like a bitter grimace more than anything. He still had his hands clenched on his cheeks when he spoke. "It seems that the prince who never speaks has found the use of the tongue again. Beware lest you be cut off when you use it, my lord."

Jeongguk contracted his jaw and swallowed that sour bite. He deserved it after all. "It’s time to go," he repeated for the last time, without waiting for the other to agree.

After saddling the horses there was nothing left but to get out of that barn. Jeongguk felt that look burn on him but tried to ignore it, as everything else in his life. It wouldn't have been a problem to add that night to the long list of mistakes that had led to that moment, at the gates of the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, with a responsibility so great on his shoulders as to break any man, let alone a boy.

He held the bridles of both horses until they were out in the open again, back in the clearing illuminated by the faint glow of dawn. The grass under their boots smelled like rain and the air still had that tension after a thunderstorm, the kind of gloomy mood that would invite anyone to stay indoors in front of a fireplace.

Jeongguk felt his joints protesting that he had to wear those clothes still wet with rain and still be subjected to that inclement weather. He would have wanted the stranger to know that they had laid on his only dry garment. He'd have wanted him to hold the reins alone and not have to lead them out, as if his was gallantry or whatever other form of pity towards a person he didn’t even know. He'd have wanted that rain to give him a break, even for a moment, just enough to listen to the flow of his thoughts and shake off the horrible feeling of breaking something.

Can’t you or won’t you?

A gloved hand landed on his, taking the reins of the heifer from his fingers without worrying about being kind. "I’ll take care of it from here," the stranger said dryly, using his other hand to lower the hood of his cloak back to his head. "Don’t say I abused a prince’s chivalry."

They wore soaked clothes, the rain still wet their faces and the moon was still in the bluish sky when Jeongguk turned and collided his lips with those of the stranger. Under that dim morning star, with the night firmament still as a witness, the Prince of the North took an oath. He had never dared to appeal to nature or the gods in that way, nor did he think that there'd ever be a need, but he felt that on such occasions being a man of honor as he had always been… it just wouldn't be enough. Not for that matter.

"I want it," he said in the foreigner’s mouth, his hands clenched around his cheeks. "May the gods forgive me, but I want it."

"What do you want, my lord?" The other panted as he responded to the kiss with the same impetuousness, biting his lips and melting even that lump of ice that was his heart.

Jeongguk pressed his thumbs against his cheekbones and put his forehead on his, still reeling for air. An oath couldn't be made with his eyes closed, so he forced himself to look at him, drowning again in those irises so similar to his own yet so different from the mountains that had forged his own. "I’ll find you again," he finally said. "Sooner or later I’ll find you, even if it’s the last thing I do. I swear."

The stranger breathed in and hissed as if his own breath had hurt him, glancing under the shadow of his cloak. "Do you?"

"I swear," Jeongguk fell back on his lips with a renewed eagerness, tearing out moans he wouldn't tire of hearing the sound, even when he'd be alone shortly in his coveted inn. The gods knew how much he wanted to stay in that barn forever instead. "I swear, I swear…"

The taste of salt filled his mouth soon afterwards; thinking it was blood he turned slightly to make sure he hadn't bitten him, but when he did he noticed that rain and tears were pouring down the foreigner’s face like dew in the morning. That’s when he knew he was looking at the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He'd have loved to be able to cry too to make him understand how sincere his intentions were, how little duty there was in those last moments that passed together.

Unfortunately he didn't. It was the second biggest regret of that night.

The first was the moment when they had to inevitably separate, saddle their horses and take two separate paths to enter the capital, and Jeongguk didn't turn to see him disappear.

Jeongguk knew he could find at least ten different ways to approach the center of the ballroom, but rationality hadn’t been his strong suit in the last few hours.

He made his way through the crowd before realizing what was going on, earning quite a few looks from those same nobles whose company he had so graciously refused until that moment, until he reached that back from which he hadn’t looked away even for a moment. He saw the contours of the room becoming increasingly blurry and the lights dancing to the rhythm of the music as he approached, but he ignored everything. He had become a master in the art of ignoring what he thought was harmful to his goals, except for one thing.

The girl in the silver dress saw him before her knight. Her friendly smile had a strange flicker of surprise, perhaps she had already glimpsed him in the crowd and wondered why he had approached with such vehemence just where they were. The dance had just ended and they had respectfully bowed when Jeongguk placed himself behind the person he was looking for, wondering what look he should have in the eyes of the young woman, but he didn’t care enough at that time.

He had to announce himself. He’d never turn around on his own, he only had eyes for that woman. But what should he call him? He didn’t even know his name...

"My lord," the girl spoke with a voice as warm and sweet as honey in milk. That was the right word, Jeongguk thought with a hint of bitterness. Those two words he had heard all night, making him smile. "My lord, I think..."

That’s when he understood. The moment when the young man turned seemed to go on forever, and until the very last moment Jeongguk begged the gods to be wrong. He must have been wrong. He couldn’t bear that idea any more than he could bear the weight of his responsibilities, any more than that damned oath weighed on his heart from that morning. Oh, he would have been so happy if someone else had dressed that royal red and it was all a terrible misunderstanding...

But he had never been so lucky in his life. Magic never happened; Jeongguk had never seen one. The moment in which the prince of the Seven Kingdoms turned was yet another mistake in his life, the umpteenth awareness of having messed things up again because he had allowed himself a second too much of selfishness.

For when he saw the face of the stranger he didn’t immediately find his eyes, but a mask. Just like the ones that brought all those who were destined to marry in the coming season.

How much were you lost, my lord?

"Your Majesty," Jeongguk muttered, lowering his head until his humiliation allowed him. "Prince Jeongguk of the Jeon dynasty, guardians of the North for the reign of His Majesty; to serve you. May I have a word with you?"

He hoped that the whiteness of his pale skin was due at least in part to the bewilderment that could have caused him such a vision.

He wasn’t a fool and he had at least a rational thought. He knew that approaching a prince of the Park dynasty would have to follow precise rules of behavior that he had broken when he had rushed on him, but to make a mistake of that magnitude had to be two. He was acting as he had always hoped that it would not happen with the people he spent his nights with over the years, but there was a reason why he paid them handsomely every time such mistakes happened.

This could have been a disaster for both of them.

He raised his head before it was allowed to other people because he couldn’t miss the expression on his face. He had to understand if he’d soon be fine or he’d be escorted out of the palace to be executed or exiled permanently from the capital. And how he would have liked to meet only his eyes instead of that fox mask that concealed his face...

"Well?", the Red Prince finally said. "What can I do for you, Prince Jeongguk?"

The dark-haired man felt his face stuck in one hard line, albeit vaguely aware of the young woman still staring at him trying to see something familiar in him and realizing that no, she didn’t know any prince of the North, and at that moment he was giving a very pitiful portrait of it, standing there and staring at one of the future rulers of the Seven Kingdoms. "It won’t take you long, Your Majesty," he forced himself to speak — or rather, to hiss . "I just want to say a few words about that important border business you asked of me. If your lady agrees."

The look that the blond turned at that moment would have melted the ice of the mountains, but luckily the lady mentioned couldn’t see him. "It is an honor for me to meet you, Your Majesty," she added, bowing respectfully and extending a hand in his direction. Jeongguk was quick to hold it suspended with one hand and to bend down until he touched the knuckles with his lips, not failing to turn a side look to the Red Prince next to him. Her future husband. "Forgive me if I haven’t had the honor of knowing your lineage or the lands of the North before now..."

"Don’t worry about it, my lady. My people aren’t used to coming out of their dens so often, I can’t blame you. I don’t have the honor of knowing you, however," Jeongguk added, keeping his tone as practical and formal as possible, while not losing sight of the man next to him when he straightened again.

"We share the destiny of belonging to remote places unknown to most, Your Majesty" she admitted with a timid smile. "I am Princess Diana of the Lunar Waters."

"Oh, a daughter from the West," Jeongguk muttered, "I should have known from your dress. The Lunar Waters and the North have more in common than our people want to admit."

"Indeed." Princess Diana extended her smile, and Jeongguk could have sworn that her cheeks were more rosy than a few moments earlier. Inside he smiled at an evil triumph that couldn’t be explained except by the infantilism that had been hounding him since that night, but he couldn’t help it. Not when there was someone he wanted attention from. "But forgive me, you wanted to talk to the prince, not to me."

"I can’t ignore a beautiful maiden like you, I’d be a brute otherwise. In the North guests like you will always be welcome if the waters of the Summer prefer the icy heaths on which to skate, you can be sure."

"I’m sure we’ll think about it, Prince Jeon."

The poisonous voice of the blond next to him penetrated his brain and made him turn with a smirk that he couldn’t hold back. A moment earlier he was certain he had to use extreme caution in a situation like that, but when he had seen the sufficiency with which the alleged heir of the Park had looked at him, as if he hardly recognized him... He couldn’t bear such humiliation. Not when he was certain he had left bruises with the shape of his fingers between his thighs.

"We want to move to a more appropriate angle..."

"Room," Jeongguk replied with the same sardonic smile. "A more appropriate room, Your Majesty. I won’t be long, I swear."

I swear, I swear...

The Red Prince briefly turned his gaze to the lady who was waiting with a curious look, after which he nodded to show him to follow. Not even he should have shown himself so upset or involved with a prince who had just introduced himself, Jeongguk thought as he stretched the corners of his mouth and bowed to the maid of the West, but he imagined that no one asked too many questions if the prince of the Seven Kingdoms didn’t want to answer.

The crowd leaned to the sides of the prince’s passage like stalks of grass under a boot, although they couldn’t avoid the curious looks on those who were following the heir to the throne. Jeongguk simply looked in front of him, fixing his gaze on the blond’s nape and following him with his hands crossed behind his back, suddenly relaxed and perfectly mastering himself. It had been a rash move and now he was only reaping the benefits for himself, for the realization that he had been secretly taken aback despite his rank and what had happened was a tasty victory.

They entered a corridor that exited from the main hall and where they found some groups of nobles who spoke to each other, maybe discussing business in a more appropriate place, or bridesmaids talking about the gentlemen they danced with that night. Jeongguk even mentioned a bow to a reddish-haired girl he had spoken to during the evening, right in front of the ladies next to her who blushed from head to toe. He felt his charm as a weapon he didn’t know he had, and for the first time he allowed himself the frivolity to pull it out, made strong by the awareness that he had absolutely nothing to lose. He’d come out of that building like a whole new man or he wouldn’t come out of it at all.

He could only count on the judgment of the one he had fucked twice as a common whore in a barn.

He didn’t know how many corridors and halls he’d walked since they left the ballroom, until the Red Prince stopped at a door in a corridor where there was only a solitary guard who went to call for others to better watch over his prince, but the latter made a gesture with his hand. Dry, imperative. He didn’t need help, he was perfectly able to handle the situation on his own. The guard remained in the corridor, though with a shadow of suspicion on his face, the prince opened the door and Jeongguk didn’t even get invited inside.

He had to wait for the punch that came in his stomach as soon as he closed the door with a snap.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" spit out the blond who now towered him while he was bent over himself, tightening his jaw to emit any kind of sound. He'd never have given him such satisfaction, although the pain of such a blow exploded in his abdomen stronger than expected. "Did you follow me to the palace? Did anyone see you?"

Jeongguk found the strength to cough a laugh. "Oh, all the Seven Kingdoms followed you to the palace, Your Majesty. I guess I wasn’t the only one who appreciated you."

His hands clasped on the collar of his jacket and lifted him up so that he slammed his back against the wall, taking his breath away more than before. He could have reacted in any way and no one could have stood up to a biting wolf, but he was so tired and amused by the whole situation that he just couldn’t help but let it happen.

The stranger, a prince of the Seven Kingdoms, had his face within a breath of his own as he held him against the wall. All that Jeongguk’s blurred vision could see was that reddish mask covering the upper half of his face, framed by that golden hair that looked so good on him, pulled back and set properly. He seemed taller, perhaps even stronger than he had imagined, but the brunette knew how quickly he could turn the situation around. He didn’t feel overwhelmed at all, just... disappointed.

"Will you continue to hit me until you erase what has happened, Your Majesty?" Jeongguk murmured short of breath. "If so, watch my face. I have to find a wife by the end of the night and I don’t want to make a bad impression."

It was at that moment that he saw him. The flicker of his eyes under his mask, that glimmer of hope. He looked down at his lips as he spoke and stayed there, suspended for a moment too long. Jeongguk didn’t miss that opportunity.

He grabbed his wrists with both hands and spread them with disarming ease, using his own body to move him and nail him to the wall in his place, pressing on him and lifting his wrists over the head to prevent him from escaping. The prince inhaled abruptly but it was late; he had no escape now. He and his royal seals were pressed under the chest of Jeongguk, who hadn’t ceased to smile since they had left the ballroom.

"Now listen to me," he said in a soft but assertive voice, as he had never felt in his life. He had the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms in his hands and couldn’t think of anything but the growing erection in his pants. "I have the same rights as other rulers of the Seven Kingdoms to be here at your father’s ball. If anyone has the right to feel threatened or betrayed by last night’s recklessness, that is me."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," the prince hissed.

Jeongguk raised both eyebrows. "You don’t know," he repeated sarcastically, before slipping one of the hands that held him against the wall until it palmed his dick over his pants. "Let me remind you, then."

He greeted his involuntary groan by colliding their lips in a furious kiss, perhaps yet another way to keep him from escaping anywhere. He felt the threads of that copper mask scratch his face when he pressed against him and for a moment he felt himself coming to his senses, yet he didn’t leave those lips for so little. It had only been a day and he still felt like he hadn’t kissed anyone like that in decades. They were so soft, ready to open when his tongue slid through; warm was his mouth when he opened for him and uttered those moans — oh, the sound of those moans...

"I don’t even know your name," Jeongguk sighed, swallowing the boulder in his throat. "You lied to me and you didn’t even tell me your name..."

"Jimin." The blond pulled back as far as the closeness allowed him, again tightening his lips and looking at him with a hard expression, cheeks reddened by that sudden ardor.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes on his face for the umpteenth time, trying to impress with the fire of his desire those features that now had a name as well as a seal. "Jimin," he repeated thoughtfully. "Ji-Min. Why do great things often have such short names?"

He saw a strange glint in the prince’s eyes, perhaps a reflection of the faint candles lit in that empty, half-abandoned room. He felt like he was detached from his own body, seeing and saying things he couldn’t even fully realize, as if as soon as he saw that face in the crowd a mechanism had gone off that had clouded his brain. Maybe he really was a snake that stuck its fangs deep that night. Perhaps he had spent so much time brooding that day that he suddenly got tired of it all when he saw a way out. Part of him still believed that he would have him executed and it would all vanish into a cloud of smoke — no more people to rule, no more wife to find, no more duties and no future already written; just an immense void that he should never have filled again.

"Please," Jimin finally whispered, turning away from his lips again in a moment of respite. "You can’t be here."

"What happened to 'my lord'?" said Jeongguk in a mocking tone as he made his lips flow down his jaw to his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses full of a strange need — as if, the moment he stopped kissing him, he would disappear. "You stuck those words in my head all day... I’ve been thinking about it, you’ve been haunting me ever since we split up..."

"I didn’t do anything."

"Nothing is not the oath I took," Jeongguk replied, after which he gently held a patch of skin from his neck between his teeth until he shivered and tried to wriggle. The grip on his wrists and his member tightened possessively, reminding him to stand in his place. He felt a predator who can finally taste his prey and a victim of that cruel game at the same time. "I found you again, Your Majesty. The winner gets his prize, right?"

Quoting his own words that night, he felt Jimin gasp when he realized that Jeongguk could leave visible marks on his skin, so he struggled with renewed vigor until he released a hand that grabbed his hair, pulling his head back. Jeongguk let him do it with an inebriated smile hovering on his lips, perhaps still amused by that absurd situation and by the fact that, despite the huge shit he had done, he continued to have his dick hard just looking at the blond.

"No." That one syllable reverberated into his bones, right into his groin. "You shouldn’t be here. We’ve messed things up enough, but that’s enough. We’re going back to that ballroom and we’re going to pretend none of this ever happened. Do I make myself clear?"

"Not at all," Jeongguk chuckled, completely out of his mind. He could hear his words, but it was as if they were tickling him. "You’re completely crazy if you think I’m gonna let it slide that you lied to me and let me fuck you like some whore in a barn in the middle of the night. Hit me again if it makes you feel better, but I won’t feel better until you kill me. You must, or I’ll have to break an oath."

Jimin frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Have you become foolish other than reckless, Your Majesty?"

"You’re playing with fire," said the Red Prince between his teeth. "My patience has a limit."

"Oh, I love fire. In my mountains it’s so rare..." Jeongguk could only hear gibberish, blinded by an almost feverish state in which he felt only a great heat in his groin and an empty head like someone who had drunk a little too much, even if he was perfectly sober until a few minutes before meeting him. He couldn’t even stop talking. "But if it’s fire that’s mine, then kill me! Set me on fire, stab me, but please don’t let me go..."

The grip in his hair loosened imperceptibly. Jimin was extremely confused now, although the erection under Jeongguk’s palm continued to be present. They were too close, however, more than they should have if someone, for whatever reason, had entered through that door to check what was happening to the prince of the Seven Kingdoms.

"My lord," he muttered, then slipped his hand holding his hair on his forehead. Jeongguk closed his eyes under that delicate and cold touch at the same time. "Gods of heaven, you have a fever..."

"It must have been the rain," he muttered with his smirk, even as he began to crack under the weight of a new awareness. "Or maybe my body has so much desire to die that it’s already preparing for the idea."

"You’re delusional from before," Jimin added, lowering his voice. "Please let me help you for a moment. You need to lie down and then we’ll talk."

Jeongguk seemed to regain a shred of lucidity to those words as he blinked a couple of times and laid his forehead on Jimin’s, still with his hand pressed between them. It repaired him from the mask that instead pressed on the back of the prince’s hand, enough to leave small striated marks on his skin. He saw genuine concern in his eyes and for a moment he was serious, deadly serious. "You lied to me," he repeated for the umpteenth time, pondering each syllable. "Could you not lie to me now? Do I look like I have a fever or am I telling the truth?"

Jimin swallowed under his gaze; slowly, he slipped his still-tight wrist from Jeongguk’s iron grip so that their hands would fit against the wall and their fingers would interlock. "I never thought you were lying," he whispered in a cracked voice. "I never... I don’t think you can, my lord. I told you I like the way you talk, right?"

"If you like it so much then," said Jeongguk, now a breath from his lips. "Listen to what I tell you. And I’m asking you to kill me now."

"But why would I do something like that?" Jimin snapped, suddenly putting his hands between them and pushing him away so he could stay away from each other. Never enough. The Prince of the North staggered a few steps backwards and stared at him — perhaps staring more at his lips than the rest of him, but he was mesmerized by those rose petals. "What’s the matter with you? First you try to confuse my betrothed and then you bring me here to ask me such nonsense? You think I want to tell someone what happened last night, is that why you keep nagging me about such a stupid idea?"

"No."

"Then explain yourself, because I’m not understanding anything."

Jeongguk clenched his jaw, but when he tried to take a step forward to get closer to him, the Red Prince lifted his finger and gave him a warning look. Stay where you are . He felt his cheeks tingle and hoped he didn’t really have a fever like the blond thought, but inside the truth bubbled so loudly that he wouldn’t be surprised if the fever came after that conversation. It seemed to him the least. "I took an oath," he finally said, every syllable uttered with immense effort.

"All you do is repeat it."

"I swore I’d find you," then he couldn’t face him anymore. He had to look for something, anything to look at, otherwise Namjoon would have been right. 'There’s someone else, right?'

"You didn’t break the oath. I’m here," Jimin muttered, but this time he came over. Jeongguk closed his eyes when his cold fingers caressed his cheeks. That contact so intimate and devoid of malice could also have been enough to kill him. "I’m here. You found me, you see? You didn’t break any vows."

Jeongguk squinted and there he was, his eyes no longer hard and reluctant as shortly before, perhaps a ghost of those stars that had enchanted him in that damn barn. He smiled bitterly at that sight — he still had an incredible desire to hear him moan from pleasure, but the idea that he might be somehow worried about him was a sufficient deterrent. It wasn’t something he had foreseen or that would make it easy for him. "That’s not all."

Jimin raised his eyebrows slightly, inviting him to continue.

"I swore to the gods that if I ever saw you again, I would never see you leave."

Jimin’s confidence wavered for a second, yet a small smile still peeped into his face. "The gods couldn’t tell you who I was, it’s my fault."

Jeongguk laughed sharply. "It is not a matter of guilt but of honor, my prince. I don’t know how oaths work in the kingdom of Summer, but where I come from there is nothing more serious in a man’s life. Not even weddings are sworn before the gods, we prefer to invoke the spirits of nature or the protectors of the hearth, but never the gods. You know what it means?"

"What?" whispered Jimin, who had already understood.

"It means love." Jeongguk raised his hands to shake those of the prince before they slid down his face, holding them there in the most delicate and desperate way possible. "It means that such an oath cannot be broken except by death. 'May the deserted lands flood and the fire freeze before a man dishonors his promises to the immortals.' Have they not taught you?"

"Jeongguk, it’s just an oath," Jimin tried to whisper, but was interrupted by the other who seemed unable to stop talking.

"I don’t expect you to understand the importance of oaths, but I understand it. Oh, I understand. My father asked me to swear on his crest and I did; my mother begged me to swear on her deathbed and I did. They’ve been asking me to take oaths for years and I’ve never let anyone down - not my house, not my honor, not even the goddamned gods of heaven. So why now, Your Majesty, should I disobey a vow to the immortals?"

"What do you expect me to do?" Jimin spit out and squeezed his fingers on his cheek. Jeongguk felt the pain through the fog of his thoughts, felt his nails sticking into his skin but did not move. "What should I do with your oath, huh? I can’t help it. I couldn’t tell some random guy in a damn barn who I am, can you figure that out or do I really have to explain my responsibilities?"

"You didn’t say anything," Jeongguk muttered while he was still talking.

The voice of the Red Prince stopped suddenly, so the brunette explained himself, not daring to raise his voice for fear of how it would come out. He hated that he was on the verge of tears twice that night, but he couldn’t control his emotions anymore. Perhaps the dam had finally broken and now the river would have swept right through it, without being able to stop or stem it. Maybe this was the real madness. "You have— I asked you if we were talking about love last night and you didn’t answer me. So am I right in wanting to seek death? Are you telling me it was all for nothing?"

Jimin swallowed loudly. "My lord, it has no relevance now. Not at all. You can’t really pretend you don’t understand—"

"Answer me," Jeongguk snapped and grabbed his hands tight. "You keep telling me how much you like me to talk, but I’d like to hear what you have to say. Tell me, Prince Park, am I right in thinking I was just the greatest idiot in all the Seven Kingdoms?"

He should have answered. Anything would have been fine. He was still waiting for a death sentence, an exile, something that could finally silence the voices in his head that continued to haunt him from that night. He should have done him at least that favor.

And he waited, he waited; he waited until he heard the sound of his heart sinking into his stomach, until he saw him looking away and that fox mask was still there, making fun of him like the whole situation.

His eyes stung terribly at that point and he still hoped for an answer, even if the silence was too loud. He dropped to his knees without worrying about the hard floor, never looking away from his face. "Then kill me now," he murmured in a hoarse voice. He saw him looking alarmed but he didn't stop. "Kill me now before it's too late."

"Jeongguk..."

"I'm begging you, Your Majesty," he continued undaunted, wielding with expert and feverish fingers the belt of his trousers. "You are the only one who can do it. The only one who can carry out the sentence. Kill me and I will stop— I will stop everything..."

"Jeongguk please," the Red Prince said in a broken voice. He wasn’t even ashamed to hide it at this point, not when the brunette had untied his belt. He lowered his trousers with a dry gesture that made him wince from the sudden cold, but when he saw that the prince of the North had laid his cheek on his upright member above his underwear he missed the words. He just stood there, his hands clenched on his buttocks, silently hugging him on his knees in the most erotic and desperate way possible. It was supposed to be the suppliant pose, and the words of the suppliants were the purest prayers there were — even if he breathed in the smell of his groin.

"I’ll die anyway," Jeongguk murmured in a muffled voice while resting his lips on the prince’s covered cock. "I will die even if you don't kill me. You are my only chance to stop this, even if it means dying away from my winter. I never really liked the summer, anyway…"

"How can you say something like that?" Jimin burst, but his voice died in his throat when the brunette turned around just long enough to press kisses on his member, stroking his length with his nose and sliding a thumb to gently massage his testicles. "Jeongguk, stop it."

The Prince of the North raised his face to look at him and Jimin felt a shiver running down his spine at that sight. "I can’t," Jeongguk whispered, almost choking on the knot in his throat. A lonely tear finally fell down his cheek, but he didn't move. "Now it’s too late to stop me. At least give me that."

"I’d give you a lot more if just— ah! " Jimin couldn’t think rationally anymore. The brunette at his feet had lowered his underwear with a single dry movement, his dick bouncing out and landing on his cheek under it. Jeongguk slid the tip of his member all over his face, squinting as if Jimin was caressing him gently. All the preseminal liquid that he had continued to produce shamelessly spread over the skin of his face, until he laid his lips immediately under the tip. "Jeongguk, please, stop now..." whispered Jimin, even though his prayer was weak in his own ears.

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine," Jeongguk muttered, moving his lips to the tip of his cock, before grabbing his length with one hand and sliding his erection into his mouth.

Jimin let go of a groan at the feeling of his hot mouth sucking away any trace of liquid from his cock, wondering if there was at least one thing in the world that guy wasn’t good at. He doubted that he was the type to take such an initiative in his sex life, but he couldn’t help but be grateful. His balls were exploding and his erection was throbbing painfully for a while, looking for a relief that was slow to arrive and that he wouldn't have wanted to look for if the situation hadn't been so desperate. He couldn’t understand why he was standing there, with a prince from the North kneeling in front of him, staring at him with his doe, careful eyes as he sucked his dick away with obscene noises.

His sighs filled the abandoned room where until a little before their words had hovered, now completely senseless while Jeongguk gave him the best blowjob of his life. The Prince of the North tightened the grip at the base of his cock when Jimin let go of moans higher than others, preventing him from reaching the apex so coveted for minutes that seemed like hours. His head moved rhythmically back and forth, coming to swallow his member almost in its entirety after some practice.

Jimin made a hand snap and grabbed his hair when he felt the tip of his penis pressing against the brunette's throat, he didn’t know whether to restrain him or to invite him to move on. No woman or man he had ever been with had ever managed to make him lose his mind so much for a simple blow job, nor had anyone who he thought was inexperienced dared so much. He had felt at such a limit for so long that even the orgasms of the previous night were not enough to keep him steady on his legs.

"My lord, my lord..." He groaned, not missing the way Jeongguk’s eyes rose to that appellation and rolled backwards as he collided his nose with his groin. He could have come at that exact moment if the Prince of the North hadn’t retracted himself and started coughing, again with his cock in his mouth, drooling all around it while Jimin let his head fall against the wall overwhelmed by sensations.

Jeongguk didn't stop after the first attempt. Doing that was always better than to talk in vain and think, and to feel the tip of the stranger pressing down to his throat didn't allow him even a moment of distraction. Maybe he was screwing up, but he didn’t care; he just wanted to make it end.

When the Red Prince was reduced to a heap of pleading whispers and felt his member throbbing between his lips he retracted with a loud pop , standing up so hastily that he turned his head. He leaned completely against the other and pressed his lips on his mouth, still with the salty taste of precum and the wet chin for that obscene attempt of doing a blowjob.

Jimin was completely intoxicated as Jeongguk held him in his arms, one hand clenched around his waist and the other clutched in his hair as he tried to unbutton his pants, taken away by a frenzy he already regretted. The Prince of the North noticed it and took off just enough to complete his work and slip off his uniform jacket, almost throwing it on the floor and remaining in a simple white blouse with loose laces on the front. The belt made a big noise when Jimin untied it, just like the night before, even with that damn sword attached that finally didn’t weigh on him.

Jeongguk didn’t wait for his pants to slip off. Now that they were both in their shirts he wasted no time and tried to make him turn against the wall, "Wait," Jimin exclaimed when he noticed, but was silenced by his mouth again on his own. Jeongguk looked at him frowning for a moment and the Red Prince stroked his cheek, blushing more than he had done that evening. "I want to see you. Please."

The Prince of the North didn't ask further and firmly grabbed Jimin’s thigh, suddenly lifting his leg so that he threw his foot over his shoulder. He saw him gasp for that gesture but he didn't complain, nor did he bend in discomfort, a sign that he had guessed how agile he really was.

He lowered his pants just enough to let out his dick and start pumping it, brushing Jimin’s testicles with his tip. He held himself firmly to the back of his neck and tried to meet his gaze, but without success. "Wait. I— I am not..."

Jeongguk understood without any explanation this time. Jimin felt a violent shake from head to toe when he saw him spitting on the open palm of his hand and masturbating so lubricated, his gaze fixed on their erections.

Shortly after, he repeated that gesture, but he held his hand to Jimin’s butt, spreading his ass apart and finding his opening at the first attempt, as if by now he was used to it. Jimin bit his lip when he felt his finger press against his rim, slipping into him with disarming ease. Maybe he was still trained for the night before. It was also evident to Jeongguk, who added a second finger to spread it open better, scissoring in him with a precision and an impatience that weren't at all from him. If he rushed that thing it would have been over faster, and it wasn’t what he wanted. Not really.

But the rush was what kept him going, keeping him from thinking. He slid his fingers away from him and carried the tip of his cock between his buttocks, not in the most comfortable position but no one was complaining. Jimin put his forehead on his and looked at the dark-haired’s cock slowly slipping into him, and although his first instinct was to withdraw from the pain, he remained accepting every inch he could take.

"Am I hurting you?" Jeongguk whispered, glancing at him. "Are you sure—"

"Do you care now?" Jimin panted without even hiding the tremor in his voice. Not when he felt his thighs burning and every muscle contracted for that intrusion, in that position in which he so much wanted to hug the man in front of him but found himself impaled on his cock. "All you’ve done is pour your troubles on me, your oaths. Your honor. Now do what as you believe. I don’t care."

He felt Jeongguk’s fingers sinking into the flesh of his thigh and sobbed when he pushed completely into him. The other leg held it on the spikes to compensate for their height difference, and even if it wasn't a problem to be in that position he couldn't bear the feeling of being split in two by his cock and feel the heart melt in the chest at the sight of the brunette's dark eyes.

The same eyes they swore to die rather than lose him again.

The Prince of the North said nothing. He pulled back just enough to push himself back into him, starting to fuck him at such a dry and tight pace that Jimin did nothing but groan out loud, welcoming that too. Each muscle was on fire with pain and the bowels bubbled with pleasure at each thrust, but what burned most of all were the small scratches on his face under his mask, where salty tears had started flowing without him being able to stop them.

"Tell me to stop," Jeongguk mumbled on his lips. His cock went so deep that Jimin rolled his eyes back and spasmodically squeezed his fingers in his hair, looking for a foothold. "Tell me you hate me. Call the royal guards, get out of this room..."

"Why do you want me to leave?" Jimin sobbed. The brunette's lips trembled on his but didn't stop. "Would you really rather die than stay here with me?"

Jeongguk exhaled abruptly and closed his eyes, swallowing yet another repressed sob from that evening. "You know that’s not true."

"What do you want from me, then?" Jimin almost screamed, clenching his hands around his cheeks to make him look up. "Look at me, for once! Look at me and tell me what you see. Do you really want me to leave?"

"I look at you," Jeongguk whispered, features painted in a portrait of despair. His thrusts didn't slow down for a moment, indeed becoming deeper and more violent, and while the blond cried of pain and pleasure at the same time he overpowered his moans and said, "I look at you and I see only that damn mask."

Jimin stared at him with that strange expression, suddenly silent. It was the same face with which he had looked at him that morning at dawn, the same surprise on his face still stirred with pleasure. As if the words of the Prince of the North were what he least expected in the world, as if he were saying things so absurd that they couldn't be understood for what they were.

He was just asking him to come back to reality. Again. What could be weird about the pure truth?

In the blink of an eye, Jimin had slipped his leg off Jeongguk’s shoulder. The prince of the North didn't have time to cast a questioning glance at him as the blond dragged him along, holding him by the collar, blindly back to the room so as to get to the desk just under the large window of what looked like a library. Jeongguk grunted and firmly grabbed one of the blond’s buttocks, extending his other hand towards the desk to bring down everything that was in his way. The books made a big noise, falling heavily to the ground, but they were soon replaced by Jimin who was hoisted on the desk without too much ceremony.

He still had his sobs in his ears when he found his opening and pushed himself inside him once again, his fingers sinking into his thigh and throwing his leg around the waist. Jimin groaned when he successfully found his prostate thanks to the new angle, much easier to handle. With his free hand he squeezed him, dictating a rhythm of the thrusts so fast and aimed at achieving the pleasure that he himself gasped to feel the walls of Jimin tighten around his member.

It was obscene to say the least — the sound of Jeongguk’s hips colliding with Jimin’s inner thigh. He was sure that it wasn't much different from the sounds of that night, but he felt almost ashamed to hear the lower abdomen ignite just listening to their noises. Those, and the moans of the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms near orgasm.

He could have said something. The pace of the thrusts was so brutal and tight that it left no room for anything else, not while Jimin’s head fell backwards and Jeongguk held on tighter to him. Maybe it really hurt him, maybe he’d have the shape of his fingers burned into his skin for days, but he felt so selfish he didn’t even notice.

He had a single fixed thought as he stared at him, looking at the curve of his open lips in a long moan of pleasure as he felt his fingers tighten around the locks of hair on the back of his neck. Soon everything would be over and he would have to find an answer, both would have to answer for themselves, but Jeongguk had only one request.

"If you don’t want to kill me…" he began, the words that struggled to come out of his mouth and the pants mingling with them. "At least take off your mask. Just for a moment."

Jimin looked at him numbly, his whole body moving on the desk, the objects still on the table shaking under the rhythm of Jeongguk’s thrusts. He could barely look around, he could only focus on the man in front of him, barely keeping his leg around his waist without falling backwards.

"Please" Jeongguk wailed, unable to modulate the tone of his voice. "Let me… please, just for a moment. I will disappear from your life as if I never existed. I just need to—"

He couldn’t finish his sentence. He was about to reach out a hand and loosen the tape that was holding on the mask of the blond when he intercepted his fingers and squeezed them, leading them instead to his dick left in the middle. "Remember who you’re talking to," he hissed, "And use your hand for something useful."

"Shit," Jeongguk breathed out, then he pressed his palms into Jimin’s waist and snapped his hips forward. Jimin’s body lifted off the desk for a moment, his eyes rolling back for what felt like the thousandth time as Jeongguk fucked him. His hand in the middle of them found his precum’s soaked cock and jerked it off to the rhythm with his thrusts, still with his cold voice in his ears giving him orders. If it had to end like this, he wanted the moment to remain etched in his memory forever, even when he had to deal with the failed oath that weighed on his shoulders.

With one final, rough thrust, Jeongguk choked back a moan and poured into him, the exact moment Jimin came into his palm with a prolonged, almost painful groan. Jeongguk continued to move slowly until he felt completely empty. Only then he exhaled heavily and opened his eyes. The Red Prince stared at him in the dim lighting, his fox mask shimmering like blood on a fresh wound.

It wasn’t the only thing shining in the dark. "Are you happy now?" Jimin whispered as tears ran down his cheeks, his dick still in Jeongguk’s hand as it slowly came limp. "You got what you wanted."

The Prince of the North let himself go with a bitter smile. His lips also tasted like salt. "Not a bit," he said, his voice hoarse with effort and resignation. "But I will make it suffice, Your Majesty."

Jimin sniffled stroking with his thumb the wet cheekbone of the brunette. "You can’t even call me by my name," he said in a breath of voice, as broken as the heart of the two princes.

Jeongguk again felt the thunderstorms clouding his sight, now far from any fever and delirium that had taken him when he entered that room. He didn’t look him in the eye but he could feel him, as if he could feel the way his eyelashes fluttered under the mask and the drops of his personal rain caught on them before sliding down his cheeks. There was no storm to blame — he couldn’t even remember whose fault it was anymore.

"You know what they say," he finally muttered, "Naming something means owning it, and you were never mine. So why start now?"

"Please," Jimin begged him, holding both cheeks in his hands as he felt him slip out of him. Warm liquid flowed from his opening along his thighs but the feeling only made his heart sink more into his chest, not like the night before, when the very idea was enough to turn him on again — again and again. "Please don’t go away."

Jeongguk laughed briefly. "Are you asking me to stay now?"

"I asked you once and I’m asking you now," Jimin replied, his lips trembling. He couldn’t even pretend that he wasn’t crying like a baby by now, his face twisted by anything but pleasure and the desperate note in his voice that made it harder. "We could find a way. I’ll get married, you’ll find a wife in the summer, and then we can—"

"We could do what ?" Jeongguk spat, wriggling sharply and looking at him bitterly. "Do you really talk about marriage after all we’ve done? After what I told you?"

"What should we do?" Jimin cried. "Please tell me what we could do, I don’t know what... I— I didn’t want all this, now I don’t know what to do..."

"You will get married," Jeongguk simply said. He had found a calm that he thought had been irretrievably lost hours before but that now it had stretched out every nerve. Now everything appeared to him in such a clear and simple light that he was ashamed to have only thought of certain things, let alone to have spoken them aloud. "Your lady will give you heirs. Maybe four, one for each border of the Seven Kingdoms. It will be their duty to accompany you and replace you in the honors of gifts, just as you will do once the king is no longer able to. You will overcome his death, the death of your mother and whoever is next to you with the magnanimity of a king, and such will be the teaching you will give to your children, so that they may do the same once it's their turn."

"And how are you doing with it?" hissed Jimin. "Do you have that magnanimity, Prince Jeongguk? Or you started talking in circles like everybody else, huh?"

The Prince of the North laughed loudly, without a trace of joy. "Don’t say I didn’t try," he replied. "It's not my place to rule the Seven Kingdoms. I am sorry to remind you that this burden falls on you and not on me, but it does. The Lunar Waters will give you a fertile union and you'll forget all that has tried to stand in your way, for this is how life goes on."

"You keep talking like you’ll never be a part of it. You can’t even look at me!" Jimin sobbed, clutching the brunette's cheeks in his hands. He could see the tears running past those black eyelashes like his hair, but he couldn’t see his eyes. He had decided to ignore him as if he didn't exist, as if he was talking to some stranger, even if the semen dripping between his legs was his own.

The only man far enough away not to have recognized his face. The same one he dug so deep inside of him, he couldn’t look at the pit they both went into.

Jeongguk raised his head just enough to give him an elusive, reluctant look; after which he cleared his voice and spoke in the most gentle tone he had been capable of up to that moment. "Your Majesty, you should go back to your lady. It’s been a while since you missed, they’ll wonder where you’ve gone."

"No."

"I don’t think you have a choice…"

"No," Jimin said stoically. "Bullshits. You act like a coward and you want to make me look irresponsible. You came to me asking me to kill you , and now you’re so ready to change your mind? Do you really want me to leave?"

"Yes." Jeongguk finally set his eyes, but the Red Prince was not pleased. "You have enough reasons to end my life, but you still choose to persist in something that will never have a future. We shouldn’t even know each other. If a dead man like me can move on with his life, you can walk away with your head held high. Do you understand me?"

"You can’t be serious."

"I am deadly serious." Jeongguk held his hands between his fingers, moving them from his face, after which he carried them both to his lips to press a kiss. He didn't miss the lost look that Jimin gave him, but he didn't give him a chance to speak. "I had the extraordinary privilege of knowing and loving the prince of the Seven Kingdoms, even for one night. Perhaps one too many. My honor has tried to chase him but I realize that my heart has flown too far, far enough to break. I never imagined that summer could give me so much."

"Jeongguk…"

"Now is the time for you to leave, Your Majesty." The Prince of the North took a step back, lifting up his pants and closing them on his shirt. He put his eyes on Jimin’s. It was while he was wearing his uniform jacket again that he said, "I know the need for distraction from royal burdens and you shouldn't blame yourself for that. I was happy to serve you, Your Majesty."

It was the first time he ever told a lie when he looked someone in the eye.

The effect of his words was immediate. Jimin stiffened his jaw and sprained his eyes, impaling visibly as if he was sick. Jeongguk didn't wait for his reaction, bending over to the spot where he had thrown the prince’s red jacket and picking it up from the ground. He went back to his desk to give it to him, his nerves shattered under his flaming gaze but the knowledge that it was the right thing to say. They would never have accomplished anything if they had continued at that pace.

It was the first thing that came to his mind, not even the most cruel or credible, but the Red Prince had to be in his own precarious condition to believe it in an instant. He felt offended as well as guilty knowing that it was so easy to question his words, but there was no time for second thoughts and honor. There was everything in those hours except honor.

Jimin didn’t say anything when he took his jacket out of his hands. He uttered neither word nor breath as he clothed himself, with gestures much more rapid and hasty than his own, so much so that Jeongguk raised his hands to fix the collar of his jacket and point at the petticoat protruding out of his belt, but the blond struck him with a look that wouldn't even admit to be touched. Better yet , Jeongguk thought, looking down. Forget me before I could leave.

Every fiber of himself wanted to hug him with care, still caress that skin so smooth and silky, kiss once again his lips full of bites and straighten his hair. It was an instinct he didn’t remember ever trying — to take care of someone like it was something special. He believed that the bond he had with the royal wolves, always at his side during hunts and on the coldest days of winter, was enough to give him an idea of love, but it wasn't. The loyalty of an animal to its master couldn't stand the comparison.

There were no words to express how hurt the prince of the Seven Kingdoms seemed, to the point that he quickly put distance between them and walked to the door without even looking back.

Jeongguk was stunned by the desk. So that’s how it had to end. His oath shattered, his body strangely relaxed for a man whose whole life had collapsed and his eyes fixed on the back of the man he had loved and burned to death. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t imagine a different ending, but now that he was experiencing it he felt so uncomfortable that he couldn’t understand it.

He couldn't resign himself. He still hoped that he would turn one last time. However irrational, foolish, reckless and frightening it was, he still longed for one last kiss.

When the Red Prince put his hand on the door handle, Jeongguk held his breath. He had to do something. His heart was beating up to his ears, a furious rhythm that didn’t even allow him to think.

"I suppose this is goodbye," he said, breaking the silence. Can’t you or won’t you? He swallowed the boulder in his throat, cleared his voice, but he missed the right words at the last. Maybe it was time to pick the wrong ones. "Goodbye, Jimin."

Naming something means owning it.

The Red Prince didn’t falter for a moment.

Solid gold and chandeliers were still swirling before his eyes when he woke up. He didn’t remember a single time his chest hurt so much when he was breathing.

He couldn’t even wring his eyes as much as they hurt. He had the impression they'd fall out of his sockets if he even grazed them. He deluded himself that the tepid water with which he washed his face, when he had the strength to get on his feet, could drive that feeling away; he was wrong.

As soon as he put his bare feet on the wood of his room, he started sobbing again. His chest rose in jerks, finding it tiring to inhale and exhale while he felt his heart tear again and again. At some point it should have started to heal, right? All the wounds find a way to close themselves. He’d tried to keep the pieces together, but he’d been deluding himself ever since he got out of the damn castle.

Nothing was worth the beauty, the enchantment of summer, if he couldn’t even control his breath.

He even felt his stomach growling at him, as if eating was something important at that point, and it irritated him even more. Not only could he not look at the light of the new day, but he would also have to get food in those conditions. All the injured animals need water and food at some point, otherwise they would have reduced their vital functions and would have holed up and died in their burrows. He had seen wolves foraging for food with their limbs torn and bleeding in the snow; he wouldn't be an exception to nature.

He couldn’t even remember why he couldn’t stop crying. It turned out to be missing the little things — the icy wind that cut his cheeks, the warmth of a wolf crouched on the bed next to him on the coldest nights. His mother’s arms, though he couldn’t remember the last time she was able to hug him. He lacked that warmth, so different from that of summer and yet so real , despite the world freezing.

Perhaps he preferred to think of the little things he had left behind rather than the great emptiness that two nights had been able to dig in his chest.

He wandered around the room sniffling and looking for something to keep himself occupied. He had to think about the small things, the small actions, but then why did his gaze only fall on the cloak of two nights before, the one who had mocked him from the moment he had returned to the inn? Oh, if he could tear it apart, tear it to shreds and watch it burn, even though it would have been a very meager consolation at that point.

The little things. Clean face, shave beard, carefully fold the clothes he had thrown on the floor. Clean, bend, pack. Jeongguk looked around with trembling lips, suddenly so far from that everyday life that he feared the earth might open under his feet and swallow him. He wished the gods weren’t kind to him. He had waited with his chest torn open by sobs all night, hoping that the immortals would be angry enough with him and his broken oath to take his life. Everything would have been better than that. To feel the heart wilt slowly and inexorably, to have the clear sensation of curling on himself and to feel the veins pinch in a painful way, as if instead of the blood he had melted lead... He didn’t believe a man could ever die that way.

But perhaps it was exactly what the gods expected of him. To wither away until the last breath was a hiccup. Until his eyelids closed, imagining those lips for the last time.

No one’s bothered him since he was there. The innkeeper had not dared to disturb him when he had paid his bill and his silence the night before, staggering like a sick man or a drunk. He had stumbled down the stairs to his room and hoped with all his might to hit his head at some point — if only his survival instinct had brought him safely to bed. He had stripped himself completely, remaining only in a shirt, he had thrown himself on the bed and curled up on himself as if summer had suddenly become colder than his mountains.

He hadn't found a wife. He had tightened and broke an oath in a single day. His honor and pride had shattered; for the first time he had felt that he belonged to a person rather than a place, then he had lost that too. You can’t lose something you’ve never had...

Jeongguk pulled his hair up from his forehead and stood in the middle of the room, waiting. He waited until that new wave of sobs and tears subsided, waiting in the hope that it was over; but he was still there, trying to breathe as best he could, her eyes on fire and his head swirling dangerously. He was certain that he had fallen asleep at some point, perhaps when he had seen the sun rise, but it was as if he had been wandering for days without stopping. As if there was no point in resting when the body wanted someone so badly it would break.

One day. One damn day it was enough to make him think of someone as if he couldn’t find other people like that if he wanted to. He never believed the fairy tales his mother told him, and now he was in one of them. How could a heart that had never loved bleed so much for a stranger?

In the darkness of his room he had already found an answer that night. At that point he knew why many things except the most important one. If it was true that a stranger had been able to make him feel free for the first time in his life, why did he still feel so trapped?

"I’m sorry," he whispered in a broken voice. Silence didn't answer him, nor did it comfort him to know that he was now speaking in the void. But he had to do something. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry..."

Before he started crying again, he took the first trousers that came in his sights. He didn't bother to find a jacket to wear over the blouse, nor to tie the loose laces on the collar. He grabbed the bag with his money and put it in his belt, then rushed out of the room like it was on fire, without looking back.

In the common room of the inn no one paid any attention to him. No one spoke, however. He threw himself into the street like a fury, without even worrying about what a mess like this might look like. Anything but a prince. He didn’t even know how he was going to go on, where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t stay still. He started to wander at a fast pace as if he had a goal to reach, something so important that he didn't even notice the curious looks of passers-by that crowded the capital. He found himself several times swinging between the road and the edge, avoiding carriages and carts of merchants who brought the goods to the shops early in the morning.

He didn’t know where to go. The alleys of the capital were separated from each other, perhaps they had a sense that Jeongguk wasn't able to grasp at that time, but that in his eyes now seemed only a maze of which he didn't have the key. He was sure that he had passed the same florist twice, just as he was sure that he smelled the smell of freshly baked bread more times than his stomach could tolerate. There was no sense in those streets or in his head, but he slowly managed to loosen the grip in his chest.

The awareness of being lost in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms had become a higher priority than his broken heart.

He asked for brief directions to passers-by to return to the inn, then asked for further directions to other people. He couldn’t decide which house was his at the time. Eventually he asked for directions for a third place, and there he headed until his legs could hold him.

With his muscles torn to pieces he passed by the inn again long after, but he didn't stop. He didn’t even look at the entrance; he just knew he had to go on. His legs burned like after a long ride and he advanced with his lips open and dry, perhaps in search of water and food that he had stubbornly not wanted to give them. Sooner or later he couldn’t handle it, but he didn’t care. For the first time in his life he felt he had a goal, perhaps the last one he had left, and nothing could stop him.

Except for one hand on the shoulder.

That, and the voice that whispered in his ear, "I found you, my lord."

Jeongguk turned so quickly that he didn’t have time to realize what was happening. He no longer heard a single noise of the city when he grabbed the stranger’s arm and dragged him with him to the first isolated alley he found. They were quite far from the streets of the capital, on the edge of the city, when the prince of the North found himself in a dead end. His smell hit his nostrils before he could lower his cloak and uncover his face.

He pushed him against the wall and threw himself on his lips again. That’s when his heart started beating again.

His hands rushed to tighten his face and hold him nailed to his place, while his tongue pressed into his mouth, giving him no time to speak. He couldn’t breathe no matter how furious that kiss was, but the air in his mouth was enough. He had so many questions on his lips, but he couldn’t say any of them — he didn’t want that kiss to end.

"Jeongguk..." Jimin muttered. Ji-Min. His prince.

The brunette burst into tears again, the blond's face in his hands, but now he couldn't help but smile. "You’re here," he sobbed, pressing his forehead on his. That time he didn’t have a mask to protect him. "Why are you here?"

Jimin chuckled with tears dripping down his face. Just like that night, under the stars and the rain, as if time stood still only for them. "All the inns—" he murmured, before being interrupted by Jeongguk's lips who resumed biting his, kissing him with an eagerness that took both of them’s breath away. "All the inns of the capital. Anyone who heard anything, anyone who could... Could recognize you— ah, Jeongguk ..."

The Prince of the North had slipped a hand under his cloak, along the shapes of his abs and his dry body, until he reached the belt of his pants and passed it, pressing on his groin. Jimin instinctively pushed himself against his palm, revealing his hardness and groaning in his mouth. "Jeongguk, please..."

"Jimin," he said, looking greedily as he shuddered to hear his name. He called him again, again and again, until the blond bent his head back and closed his eyes, his mouth half open as Jeongguk bit and sucked his lips as if they could feed him. "Tell me I’m not dreaming..."

"I’m here," Jimin sighed, twisting his fingers behind the back of the brunette's neck, as he retraced the trail of kisses from the night before down his jaw, down to his neck and ribs. He also wore nothing but a blouse like his and pants under his cloak, it was very easy to untie his laces and have access to his pecs. Jimin threw a concerned look at the street not far from them, "Jeongguk, please wait..." He tried to warn him, but the Prince of the North silenced him by biting his lips until he felt the taste of blood.

Jimin gasped and groaned, clutching at him, but said nothing else. "You’ve gone completely crazy," Jeongguk said, almost angry, as he shook his chin with the hand. "You’re a stubborn fool, they could have seen you. You don’t even know why you’re here..."

"Stop, please," he begged. "You know why I’m here. Maybe you... maybe you don’t understand, you can’t accept it, but—"

"I’m in love with you, Jimin." The Red Prince looked up with tears trapped between his eyelashes, staring at him with such confusion that he would smile — he would never stop finding funny that expression, as if he never expected what he was saying, as if he wasn't part of him enough to recognize a lie from reality. "I swore to the gods never to let you leave because I can’t. I can’t. I lied because I didn’t think... I didn’t want you to know, I didn’t think you could feel something for someone like me. But I can’t. I swear, I can’t..."

The voice jammed as he spoke, swearing for the umpteenth time how much that stranger had entered him, diving back on his lips as if he couldn't have enough. It was Jimin who pushed him back, trying to put his hands between their chests, stopping right at Jeongguk’s heart. He wondered what he felt, if a part of that heart had started working properly.

He wondered if, at that moment, his heart was beating at the same rate as his.

"Why did you have to..." Even the prince of the Seven Kingdoms couldn’t speak, overwhelmed as they were by emotion and sobs. "Why did you have to say those things? I believed that you really... I thought I was just a pastime like the others—"

"I lied!" exclaimed Jeongguk. "May the gods forgive me, but I lied. I didn’t think you could actually believe it. After everything I told you, after that fucking oath, how could you just walk away? I told you I’d rather die than see you leave. Do you have any idea what it was like?"

"I’m sorry," Jimin sobbed, unable to hold back the tears and kissing the salty drops one by one as they descended on his cheeks. The brunette felt his fresh lips caressing his burning skin and closed his eyes, basking at the feeling. "I’m so sorry, Jeongguk. Please forgive me for—"

"I love you," he said again, pressing his nose on his hair. He stroked them with a feverish hand, wiping his tears away with the thumb. "I don’t even know how it’s possible, but I love you. I was the one who convinced you otherwise, I just wanted you to hate me. I hate myself so much; you have no idea."

"I do have one." Jimin took his face in turn and stared at him with a determination that nailed him in place, filling a little the void in his chest. "I’m here now. Look at me. I’m here, I’m here with you. I’m not going this time."

"But you’re—" The Prince of the North paused with a deep moan when Jimin’s hand came down to tighten his dick from above his pants. They couldn’t talk, they couldn’t let go for more than a few seconds before they missed their lips again. They couldn’t even ignore the fact that they were both excited to death, like they hadn’t spent the last two days pleasing each other. All Jeongguk knew was that his hand was so good between his legs that he didn’t want to be anywhere else. "Jimin, think about it. All your future, everything you are... How will it end if you—"

"Take me with you." Jimin moved his hand over his cock and cut off the brunette's word, speaking on his lips as he groaned at that contact. "Take me where we are safe. No one can ever follow us, no one can imagine where I am."

Jeongguk chuckled, tears and moans mingling and his head light, almost as if the sensations he felt were too much, too sudden. "My mountains are not for you, Your Majesty."

"They’re for me because they’re your mountains. All that is yours I want to be mine too" Jimin promptly replied, holding his neck firmly with one hand so that he could watch him and the other jerking him off slowly above his pants. "I don’t mind being a prince if I’m not your prince."

"Jimin..." the brunette groaned faintly.

"There is no place safer than winter. We can stay there forever, one day you can go back to your castle and we’ll stay there, no one will ever come looking for us because no one expects me to be who they want me to be. No one dares go that far North."

"Winter is not what you expect. You won’t like it."

"I’ll like it because I love you too."

Jeongguk held his breath, uncertain that he had heard correctly, yet the Red Prince had tears on his face, but he was serene and determined as he had seen him in the barn. "Don’t lie to me."

"I’m not lying, my lord," Jimin said, gently caressing his face. "Look at me. Tell me if I’m lying, according to you."

"I don’t know," Jeongguk admitted, looking down as his hand squeezed over the bulge in his pants. "I’d like to believe you so much, I’m not sure I know the difference."

"I’ll follow you until you realize it. It’s a promise."

Jeongguk swallowed yet another sob, finding himself smiling on his lips. "Swear it."

"Of course I do—"

"No. Swear it like I do."

Jimin raised both hands to cup his cheeks, close enough to kiss but far enough to look into his eyes. Those eyes so similar yet so different... "I swear. ' May the deserted lands flood and the fire freeze before a man dishonors his promises to the immortals. ' Something like that, right?"

In the end, Jeongguk smiled. They'd have plenty of time for oaths and kisses, for getting used to winter and for living far away from everything they had ever known. They had time to get used to the frost, the sleepless nights, the endless rides and the nights where they would have to find a place to stay. It didn’t matter a damn thing. It seemed that the time had expanded only for them: a prince of winter and a prince of summer who had found freedom.

"Something like that."