Archive of Our Own ^beta

Winters in Trasta are frigid and everlasting.

In an average year, the forecast consists of three months of a summer that is cool and more like spring in other parts, followed by nine months of snow and blizzards and iced over lakes. Jaemin was born here, grew up here, has gotten frostbitten and slipped on glass-like patches more times than he can count, and yet nothing can compare to the icy cut of Donghyuck’s glare as they sway across the dance floor on a night that is as cold as all the others before it.

“A smile might be nice.”

Donghyuck stops frowning at an unspecified spot above Jaemin’s head and meets his eyes instead. His sour mood does not waver. Teardrop earrings of diamond and gold hang from his ears, and a mimicking trail of gold glitter and dark smoky shadow frames his eyes, sharpening his knife of a gaze even further. “Is it not enough that I agreed to dance with you?”

“Is it not enough that you would agree to a dance with your husband at a ball that he threw in your honor? I do not think so.”

“I did not ask for this,” Donghyuck says quietly.

“Neither did I.” Jaemin gives him a grim smile and twirls him in time to the music, so that Donghyuck’s back is pressed to his chest, and Jaemin’s lips rest comfortably next to ear when he says, “Now it is your birthday, so smile.”

The song does not end soon enough. As soon as the last notes go out, Donghyuck breaks away and gives him a hasty bow before rushing off, out of the ballroom and away from the prying gazes of their most esteemed guests. Jaemin can feel a million eyes watching them. He clears his throat. Straightens his back. Smiles and bears it all on his own, like he always has.

He makes his way over to the refreshments table, and yet he cannot drink, not when he is the host for tonight. He settles for the promise of sugar instead, eyeing all the pastries before picking out a tiny holder of chocolate mousse instead.

“Jaemin.”

Jaemin looks up from his dessert, for a moment ruffled at someone daring to address him without his title. His mood darkens even further when he realizes it was not without reason.

“Oh. Hello, mother.”

The Queen dowager is dressed in her finest tonight, her usual all black regalia is smattered with jewels, glimmering against the fabric like a brilliant evening. She reaches forward with a silk-gloved hand to pluck the mousse out of Jaemin’s hand only to set it back on the table. Don’t you dare eat that, goes unspoken.

She nods in Donghyuck’s general direction, red lips poised in an artificial smile as she asks, “Is he quite alright?”

“He just needed some fresh air. He’ll return soon, I’m sure.”

Jaemin’s mother hums, sticking his side to whisper, “Then am I stretching too far in hoping that it is the child making him ill?”

“Perhaps,” Jaemin says, curt.

“I will be honest with you, because you are my son. I do not like what I’ve been hearing.”

“And what is it that you have been hearing, mother?”

“That he commands you with a single gaze. You tell him what to do, not the other way around. He is your omega—Have you even touched him? Are you even trying?”

Jaemin flinches at the implication. “Mother, it is not that simple—”

“Trasta needs an heir. It is as simple as that. Do not make me ask again.”

♕

When Donghyuck had first moved to Trasta it was clear that he was unhappy. He refused to eat much, he rarely spoke, and he spent his days in the castle in an almost dissociative state. He wandered through the hallways like a ghost, soft footed and unseeing. More often than not, he would be found sitting on the windowsill in the northern library staring blankly at the snow-capped mountains that surrounded the icy kingdom for hours, like a prisoner coming to terms with his sentence.

Of course, all of this information was relayed to Jaemin through a third party, because for the first month or so of their marriage Donghyuck and Jaemin did not cross paths once.

It was not a task. The castle had over a hundred rooms. Jaemin had his half, and Donghyuck had his. Jaemin had been kind enough to give him the biggest library. The gardens, the lake view, and still Donghyuck seemed…discontent.

Jaemin had thought it best that they were apart. He thought that maybe Donghyuck would appreciate not having to deal with adjusting to a strange alpha in a strange land with strange customs, but that had only served to worsen their plight. Worsen their distance. And then, of course, Donghyuck’s heat had descended upon them both. Jaemin didn't need a third party to know that. He’d felt it, the moment it started.

He’d been told that the simple act of marriage—even without the bite—tended to mimic the effects of a mating bond, but he had not expected to feel Donghyuck’s fear so clearly. His arousal, his aching loneliness, his cold anger when he’d told the maids not to let Jaemin anywhere near his quarters.

What kind of mated omega goes through his heat alone? It had been terrible for them both.

♕

Jaemin finds Donghyuck in one of the drawing rooms at the heart of the castle. He is hidden, but Jaemin knows he’s in here because his flowery scent is still faint, cloying honeysuckle in the last hour; soured by his mood, but still sweet.

He scans the room. Donghyuck’s earrings have been discarded, lying dejected on the velvet couch. Everything else is still. Untouched. Jaemin’s eyes settle on the wardrobe against the wall.

He walks over as quietly as he can and pulls the doors open, pleased to find that Donghyuck is indeed sitting inside with his knees tucked to his chest. Despite himself, Jaemin smiles. “You must start picking a better hiding spot, beloved.”

Donghyuck rises immediately, clearly irritated.

“You cannot be here.”

Jaemin steps back so Donghyuck can step out. “Says who?”

“Says me,” Donghyuck says. He walks several paces away then, leaning against the couch like he cannot bear to be within five feet of Jaemin. “This is my space. I came here to get away from you, so you cannot be here.”

“Why do you detest me so?”

“You are so self important. It is not you who I detest.”

“Then who? What? Have I not done everything in my power to make you happy?”

Even as Jaemin says it he knows it has not been enough.

Nothing will ever be enough for Donghyuck, it seems.

“I detest this institution. I detest this role. I detest the lengths you’ve gone to to prove to yourself and others that you care about any of this. That you care about me.”

“Of course I care about you. You are my husband. My mate.”

Donghyuck makes a sharp sound. “You don’t even believe that.”

Jaemin takes the liberty of walking closer to him, swallowing as Donghyuck’s scent turns sharp. He only stops when they are toe to toe. Donghyuck is almost a match for him in height with these shoes. Only almost, and it pleases Jaemin’s alpha need to be able to look down at him, to make himself the most intimidating person in the room.

“What is it that you want?”

“I want to go home. I want to see the beach, I want to feel the summer sun on my face— I want to see my brother and my friends, Your Majesty.”

“Jaemin.”

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck corrects. “Let me go home.”

“You know as well as I do that I cannot do that.”

Donghyuck immediately turns away to return to his hiding place. “Of course,” he throws over his shoulder, “How foolish of me to think that the king has any sort of power in his own kingdom.”

The king might as well be a figurehead, landlocked by the opinions of advisors and prophets and parliamentarians. Everyone knows that. It’s what got them into this predicament in the first place. Perhaps Donghyuck is foolish indeed. Not foolish, Jaemin thinks, Just naive. If he had it his way, Donghyuck would’ve been on his way back to Ilio the moment the wedding ceremony was over. Nothing is ever that simple.

Donghyuck resumes his place within the wardrobe, shutting the doors behind him. His voice returns disembodied. “Why are you still here?”

“There is talk within the court—that our marriage remains unconsummated and that you do not love me.”

“Well even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

“Donghyuck. They know that you spent your heat alone. They say that I did not come to see you once. Do you have any idea what that looks like?”

“I put up a boundary and you respected it. It would look worse if you had shown up after I explicitly told you not to, would it not?”

“You would think so.”

A true alpha would’ve adhered to his duty no matter what. A true alpha would not have remained restless for a number of days, aching and agitated because his omega was alone and in pain, crying out for relief that would be slow to come.

It does not look better. It looks worse.

Jaemin makes his way across the room, step by step, until he has a palm against the closed door. Donghyuck’s voice rings soft from within.

“I didn't know you. I didn't…trust you—I still don't. I couldn’t bear the thought of you seeing me like that. Besides, I endured my heats alone long before I met you.”

Jaemin lets his palm slip down to the handle, twisting it open to find that Donghyuck is already looking up at him. He says nothing else as Jaemin climbs in and sits next to him, shutting the door and letting his head loll against the sturdy oak. In the dark, Donghyuck is eerily still.

“Was it not painful?” Jaemin whispers.

“Of course it was,” Donghyuck whispers back. “I think knowing you were close made it worse. I never had the option before...now all my omega seems to want is—well, it does not matter. ”

He does not have to say it. Jaemin knows. It’s how things are, the way they’ve always been.

“I would’ve helped you. It was…difficult for me too.”

“I already told you I did not want you to. It is fine.”

“Donghyuck…”

“Do not touch me.”

Jaemin returns his wandering hand to his own lap. He hadn’t realized he was doing it. He exhales, and returns to the matter at hand.

“An unconsummated marriage is not a marriage at all. It is illegitimate, and if we continue like this it will only hurt us both. Your kingdom as well mine.”

“I know that,” Donghyuck says, “Do you really think I do not know that?”

“There is a solution.”

Donghyuck shifts. Jaemin looks at him, and thinks he can see the whites of his eyes in the dark.

“What?”

“We give them what they want. We…we find a means to procure an heir,” Jaemin says.

The ensuing silence hangs heavy in between them.

“Oh. Brilliant. Adorable, even.”

“I'm serious. The sooner we do it the sooner we can both be free of each other.” Jaemin swallows. “As soon as it happens—and as soon as you are recovered—you can return home. It will be like all of this was just some terrible nightmare. If you wish, you will never have to see me or the walls of this castle ever again. At least not until they inevitably demand another heir.”

“You tempt me so,” Donghyuck says, ever sardonic.

“We would have to each play our roles first. We’re supposed to be on our honeymoon. You do know what that means, right?”

“I am twenty and three. I know what kings and their consorts do on their honeymoon.”

“So? What is your answer?”

“I must think about it.”

“Think? What is there to think about?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps now that you mention it you would prefer to grow the thing in your body instead? That would make my decision much easier.”

Jaemin returns to the party alone. It would be best to let Donghyuck think about it.

♕

As soon as Jaemin steps into the bar, its owner lets out a low whistle.

“My eyes deceive me.”

“They do not.”

“No, they most certainly do,” Chenle says, but he has already begun preparing Jaemin’s usual rum concoction. Jaemin adores him so. Chenle waits until Jaemin is seated at the counter to tease, “There’s no way the king himself made his way down here to see little old me?”

Jaemin pulls the hood off his head for a brief moment so he can give him a look. His silver hair gives him away. “Chenle. You know I’ve been…preoccupied.”

“Of course, what with the coronation and the nuptials and the honeymoon et cetera et cetera. How is married life treating you? I hear Ilio’s prince is a beauty to be reckoned with.”

“You’ve heard? Were you not at the coronation?”

“Oh I was! Was a bit hard to see anything with that terrible crowd. I also left early…you know how it is…so tell me! How is it?”

“It’s fine,” Jaemin says, waving a dismissive hand, “Actually that’s what I came to see you about.”

“Oh, no. Trouble getting it up, Your Majesty?”

Jaemin is thankful that it appears to be a slow evening.

“What? No.”

“Keeping it up then.”

“No!”

Chenle slides the finished drink over to him, an amused smile on his sharp, handsome face. “Why are you being so defensive?”

“Because—that is not my preferred topic of discussion.”

“Apologies,” Chenle says, he's giggling still when he returns to wiping ice off the bar top. “What troubles you?”

“Donghyuck is beautiful. And clever, and funny, and—And extremely stubborn. Challenging. He stands against me in every single way. He’s unlike any omega I’ve ever met. It is…unbecoming. ”

“Well you’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge, your majesty. He sounds like he is exactly your type.”

“Let’s just say that he is upset with me. I’ve tried everything in my power to get him to thaw, but he will not budge. I was hoping you could help me figure out something to get him to…warm up to me.”

“I see. What makes you think I could offer any real insight?”

“Oh come on, you are the grand duke of grand gestures.”

“I am not the duke of anything, actually. It would do you well to remember that.”

Jaemin sighs. Chenle used to be.

A duke, that is. A real one, with an inheritance, a title, and the weight of passing on that title. He and Jaemin had grown up together. His father served on Jaemin’s father’s court, and had things not worked out the way they did Chenle would be serving on Jaemin’s. Perhaps he would’ve even married his way into becoming a prince himself. They were merely children bruising each other in the palace courtyard, and then they were teenagers, clinging to the hope of values and transformation of a system they were not quite yet familiar with.

Even back then, Jaemin had always figured Chenle would separate himself from royalty eventually. He had the will, and the luxury. The crown prince could not slip away so easily. Jaemin had always held a secret sort of envy for it, and then when they both met Renjun that envy had tripled in size.

When Jaemin turned ten and seven, Renjun Huang was hired to paint his portrait. He was a commoner, a beta, an artist—the youngest ever employed by the royal family—with the sort of freedom the two alphas had only dreamed about until then. The three of them became fast friends, and then they became something more, twisted and passionate in nature. Renjun fell in love with Chenle, but he loved Jaemin too, and for the first time in their lives they were forced to live for something other than themselves. Jaemin had been paralyzed by it, but Chenle became emboldened. He had, so immediately, given up everything he’d ever known for love, of all things. And Jaemin couldn’t move. Sometimes it feels like he still can’t.

That is why despite Chenle’s resistance, Jaemin knows he has come to the right place.

“You know I would not be asking if I did not think you could help me,” Jaemin says quietly. “Please, Chenle.”

The alpha sighs and leans across the bar top, propping his chin up on two fists when he asks, “What does your husband like?”

Jaemin sips his drink. “What do you mean?”

Chenle waves a hand around. “You know. His hobbies, his interests, his deepest, darkest desires.”

All Donghyuck talks of is wanting to go home. Scratch that, all of their talks have been quarrels. Jaemin does not know the first thing about him besides his shining and stubborn nature. He gulps down more of his drink.

“He…gets homesick a lot. He talks about missing the island and sunshine all the time.”

“Well there's your answer.”

“What?”

“Obviously he cannot go home, so bring the sunshine to him. Trasta is so very bleak this time of year.”

“It is bleak all year.” Jaemin points out, but the answer is oddly poetic, even for Chenle. Especially for Chenle. An idea begins to bloom in the corner of Jaemin’s mind. “It sounds like you want me to pluck the sun out of the sky and bring it to him. You’re beginning to sound a lot like Junnie, did you know?”

“Maybe I’ve tired of being straightforward. Maybe his ways are more fun.”

“Where is he, anyway?”

“Out of town on business. He’s found some wealthy families in the countryside who want to sponsor his art.”

“Oh that’s a shame,” Jaemin says. He nudges his empty glass back over to Chenle’s waiting hand for a refill. “I mean, not really. That is wonderful news. I just would've very much liked to say hello to him.”

“You have your own husband, Your Majesty. Stop dreaming of mine.”

♕

The plan takes some time.

A fortnight, to be exact. Jaemin spends a painstaking amount of time picking out the materials and deciding where on the grounds to put the greenhouse so as to not arouse Donghyuck’s suspicion. There are only a few flowers from Ilio that thrive in this climate, and Jaemin makes sure to get a list of the flora that Donghyuck is most fond of, seeing to it that the most tenacious ones were implanted into the controlled greenhouse environment. Then, of course, came the challenge of showing it to him.

“Where on earth are you taking me?” Donghyuck huffs, “As if I had not been kidnapped already.”

He’s blindfolded, but he’d allowed for Jaemin to guide him down the pebbled garden path by his shoulders. It is a beautiful day, or as beautiful as it can be, sunny despite the ever present chill. Jaemin’s stomach twists with nerves.

“I told you I had a surprise for you.”

“Your last surprise was disappointing at best. Was that supposed to excite me?”

Jaemin sighs. “Would it kill you to be pleasant?”

“You guessed it perfectly, your highness. Even now the idea makes me ill—oh!”

Donghyuck slips, inexplicably, deservedly, but Jaemin is there to steady him.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you fall, did I not? Stand here.”

Jaemin lets go of him, and Donghyuck obediently stands in the middle of the path while Jaemin motions to the guards to open the delicate glass door. He returns to Donghyuck’s side and asks for his hand, which Donghyuck reluctantly gives him, and he guides him into the warmth of the greenhouse before untying the slip of cotton over his eyes.

Donghyuck blinks against the sudden brightness, and then his jaw goes slack.

“What—” He looks at Jaemin, and then back at the bursts of color all around them. For the first time since they met, it seems he has nothing to say.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me. I just hoped that it would help you not miss home so much. And to hate me a little less, of course.”

Donghyuck hums but does not say much else. His gaze lingers on the sunflowers.

Jaemin shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sure you already know but—sunflowers don’t do well with the frost. Those are as big as they’re going to get until spring comes. I left most of it open so you could pick out some more flowers later on. If you want.”

There’s another beat of silence.

“I don’t forgive you,” Donghyuck says, finally.

“Do you not like it?”

Donghyuck exhales. When he turns to Jaemin again his eyes have an odd shine to them.

“Even days.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Every Even Day we shall try for a baby. You will…bed me, every even day. Until it takes. I will give you and your people an heir so that I may go home and see these same flowers in their true habitat, in full bloom and glory. That is what I think of your proposal. Do you agree?”

It is Jaemin’s turn to be silent.

“Your Majesty,” Donghyuck says. His jade stare is resolute. Underneath that, is desperation as clear as day. Jaemin knows because he saw the same look in his mirror that morning. He thinks then, for the first time, that they may be more alike than he’d previously thought. “It is in your best interest to agree before I change my mind.”

“Every even day,” Jaemin echoes. It is ridiculous. “Of course.”

♕

Jaemin is in his study when Donghyuck dramatically throws the doors open. It is only a little after dinner, but Donghyuck is already in his nightclothes. Jaemin has seldom seen him in them, and he tries not to stare at the way the baby blue silks fall across his lean frame. He keeps his eyes on the papers on his desk when he asks, “What?”

“It is an Even Day. Or even night. I suppose you had forgotten our arrangement.”

On the contrary, Jaemin has been unable to think of much else since their discussion in the greenhouse. He was simply waiting on Donghyuck to make the first move. They were his terms, after all. He clears his throat and puts the documents aside. The numbers were beginning to blur, anyway.

“Come here, then.”

Donghyuck descends from the short steps in silence.

He is barefoot, making no noise across the carpet as he makes his way over to Jaemin. He is almost always barefoot inside the castle if he can help it. Jaemin has never met anyone who detests shoes as much as Donghyuck does. He supposes the omega can get away with it in sun-kissed, beach-clad Ilio, but here Jaemin is firmly of the belief that it is only a matter of time before Donghyuck catches a cold.

He makes it as far as the desk, halting when he sees that Jaemin has his thighs spread, inviting him to sit on his lap.

“Surely you don’t mean—”

“Oh but I do. We will be doing far more than touching in a moment.”

Donghyuck grits his teeth. “Right.” He closes the distance between them and timidly lowers himself into Jaemin’s lap. He puts an arm around his shoulders. It is nothing short of awkward.

Jaemin hesitates. Donghyuck looks lovely. His ink black hair is shiny, perfect, curling at his nape. His face has been scrubbed clean of any makeup, but his parted lips are glossy, and his skin still glows like polished brass. The moles on his cheeks and the one that rests right above his Adams apple beg to be kissed. He smells lovely, too, a careful assortment of flowery bath oils that only serve to compliment his underlying scent. Jaemin’s mouth waters with anticipatory fear. Donghyuck is beautiful, and Jaemin is but a man, an alpha at the mercy of his omega. A tale as old as creation itself.

He lifts a hand to touch him, but his fingers hover over the button on his loose gown. Donghyuck plucks his hand out of the air and presses it to his chest. His heart is beating terribly fast. Jaemin’s gaze snaps up from his collarbones to his blue-gray eyes.

“We will be doing far more than touching in a moment,” Donghyuck says.

Of course. With Donghyuck all of Jaemin’s words become a double edged sword.

“Have you done this before?”

Donghyuck does not miss a beat, nor does he provide a straightforward answer. “That is none of your concern.”

You are impossible, Jaemin thinks. He clears his throat and slides his hand up to cup his face, drawing him in for a kiss. He pulls him in slowly, watches as Donghyuck so clearly steels himself, eyes closed and breathing at a standstill.

They’d kissed just once before, at the altar on their wedding day, when they were hopeful strangers and Jaemin had not yet ruined Donghyuck’s ideas about a loving marriage. Jaemin had lifted the delicate veil off of Donghyuck’s face, and Donghyuck had done the same for him. Donghyuck kissed him, and smiled at him, and it was the first time in a long time that Jaemin had felt such warmth from a single person. It scared him badly enough that he promised himself to give Donghyuck as much distance as possible. And yet here they are, all the same.

It feels crude to begin again like this. “I think,” Jaemin says quietly, “Perhaps the bedroom might be a better venue.”

Donghyuck’s eyes slide open, a sharp intake of breath confirms that he’d been holding it in. “Yours or mine?”

Donghyuck is sitting on Jaemin’s bed when Jaemin locks the door behind him. They’d made a show of getting down here, Jaemin’s arm around Donghyuck’s shoulders, Donghyuck’s arm around his waist, the two of them taking the long way so as to make it obvious what they were doing—what they were about to do. The guards and servants restless tongues will do the rest.

Donghyuck’s scent turns sharp when Jaemin turns to face him. The rind of an orange, burst open.

“You’re tense.” Jaemin notes. He walks over to the bed until he’s standing between Donghyuck’s legs. Donghyuck tilts his chin up to look at him, haughty and proud. Despite everything, despite the contempt burning in his eyes, Jaemin thinks he is beautiful.

“I wonder why,” Donghyuck says.

“You need to relax.”

Donghyuck stands then, like he needs something to do with himself. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be,” Donghyuck says, “Kiss me. Breed me. Get it over with.”

“Be quiet,” Jaemin says. He realizes immediately that Donghyuck thinks of this as a chore, but he will not make it one. He leans in until their lips are a breath apart, and Donghyuck is still quivering. Small, minute, imperceptible if his scent did not give him away. Jaemin’s right hand goes over his waist. The other tilts his chin up.

“Do you want this?” Jaemin asks, “you need to want this.”

“It is what we must do, is it not?”

“I would not make you do anything you do not consent to. Even if it would keep things difficult for us. You understand, right?”

“I want it. Just kiss me.”

So Jaemin holds his chin still, leans in, and kisses him. It only lasts a second, a peck, long enough for Jaemin to taste a glaze of honey. Donghyuck pulls back, licks his lips, and then goes in for another. He’s clumsy with it. Impatient. Jaemin senses that it is part nerves and part inexperience. He moves his hand over to his jaw and tries to guide him through it, and Donghyuck responds in kind: opens his mouth, breathes Jaemin in, lets his tongue slide wetly against his. His hands untuck and wrinkle Jaemin's crisp white shirt.

“Take it off,” Donghyuck says, soft, breathless. Their hands brush at the first button, and Donghyuck leaves it alone long enough for Jaemin to shrug it off his shoulders. Donghyuck’s palm comes down on Jaemin’s bare chest, delicate fingertips dragging down from his sternum, to his belly, to the hair leading below his waistband. He leaves goosebumps in his wake, deadly quiet.

His eyes rise from Jaemin’s belt and settle on his face again. His ears blush. Jaemin doesn’t get to ask him about it before Donghyuck is leaning forward to wrap his arms around his neck and kiss him once more.

They take it slow. After all, they have all night, and Jaemin rather delights in the way Donghyuck grows increasingly more aroused, his scent thick and sweet, a lavender haze of desire. He maps Jaemin out with just his hands, running them over his back, his arms, digging fingertips into his shoulders, and his waist.

Jaemin is already half hard when he walks them backwards, toward the bed, and lays Donghyuck down onto the mattress. He pulls away from his lips to mouth at Donghyuck’s neck like he’s been wanting to do, pulling his collar down so he has access to as much golden skin as possible. He noses at his scent gland, licks the pheromones off his skin, and Donghyuck melts down in his hands like wax. “Jaemin, do something,” Donghyuck pants, his voice is raw, his cheeks flushed, lips red. A picture of wanting. It is the first time he’s called Jaemin by name without being prompted to do so. Jaemin wants to ruin him.

Jaemin drinks Donghyuck in again, his dark hair pooling across the pillow, eyes like glittering amethysts in the dim light. He takes his time sliding his palm up Donghyuck’s bare, devastatingly smooth leg, stopping at his thigh, just where skin meets blue silk.

“May I?”

“Oh, do not try to be a gentleman now.” Donghyuck huffs. Jaemin looks at him until he swallows and averts his gaze. “Yes. You may.”

Jaemin settles in between his legs, pushing his robe up to his waist to find that he’s practically dripping slick from being kissed and scented alone.

“What happened to your undergarments?”

Donghyuck keeps his eyes on the gold and black vase in the corner of Jaemin’s room. “I disposed of them. I thought it might…make things easier.”

Jaemin has to physically steady himself against the arousal that boils up inside him. He lowers himself, presses a kiss to Donghyuck’s inner knee and then drags his nose down, down, across soft mole speckled skin, until he can roll his tongue over the wetness between his legs. Donghyuck lets out a faint whimper upon first contact, his thighs instinctively closing around Jaemin’s head.

“You taste so good,” Jaemin murmurs, he squeezes at his thighs, noses at his cunt, and tries to get him to ease up. “Let me see you.”

Each languid flicker of his tongue draws another gorgeous moan from the omega. He opens up like a flower does, his legs spreading obscenely, beckoning him in. Jaemin hikes his legs over his shoulders and buries his face between, letting Donghyuck flood his taste buds with candied fruit. He only pulls back to ogle at how wet he is, his cunt glistening wet with sweet slick and saliva. He doesn’t go too far, just enough to watch how Donghyuck flutters around nothing as Jaemin strokes a sideways thumb up and down the wet folds.

“Gods,” Donghyuck sighs, “Please.”

“Do you like that? Does that feel good, beloved?”

“Don’t call me that,” the prince says, and it’s amusing that he finally finds it in him to sit up on his elbows and glare at Jaemin when he’s coming apart like this, face flushed and legs apart like a common whore.

“I am asking because I want to know,” Jaemin says softly. He stops rubbing circles into his clit only to slip a finger inside him, and Donghyuck’s breath hitches. Jaemin pushes in until the second knuckle, awed at how tight he feels, how hot he is on the inside. Donghyuck bites his bottom lip. “Keep doing that. And—and your mouth.”

Jaemin indulges him, watching how his eyes flutter shut, his hands twisting in the sheets, hips bucking as Jaemin pumps his fingers inside him and sucks his clit into his mouth. Donghyuck reaches forward again only to grab a fistful of Jaemin’s hair, like he’s torn between pushing him away and pulling him further into his heat. “Hah—Like that,” he moans, “Don’t st—op.”

Jaemin doesn’t stop. Not until Donghyuck comes all over his face, soaking his mouth and chin. Donghyuck is trembling from pleasure this time, and his skin is sweat slick underneath Jaemin’s palms. Jaemin kisses his way up his body, over the soft curve of his belly, his heaving chest, his throat, his mouth. He’s relaxed enough by then that he allows Jaemin to cage him in and free himself of his pants. Jaemin is harder than he’s ever been in his life, it feels like, and all he can focus on is getting inside.

Jaemin searches his eyes, asking as much as he is pleading. Donghyuck digs his nails into his back and gives him a small nod, and all Jaemin can think about as he looks down to line himself up is how cute Donghyuck is. How much they get along when they’re not exchanging words. Donghyuck shudders out a breath when Jaemin finally pushes inside him.

He takes his time, inching forward until there’s nowhere left to go, until they’re closer than they’ve been in the months that they’ve been married to each other. Jaemin rolls his hips forward, and Donghyuck lets out a broken moan, coating his cock in his essence. At this rate, the sheets will be soaked through, but it does so much for Jaemin to know that Donghyuck is enjoying this, that he feels good, that every heavy breath and whine against his cheek is a sound he cannot help but make. Jaemin lifts himself up a bit, changing the angle before he snaps his hips forward again, and Donghyuck practically keens. He’s messy, so messy, and Jaemin can already feel his knot starting to swell.

“Jaemin…I think I…I’m…I’m gonna come again…”

He cuts himself off with another soft moan, Jaemin’s name said like a secret prayer, the sound of damp skin on skin as his body opens up to accommodate him. Jaemin had been worried that it would hurt, but Donghyuck’s expression betrays no discomfort of any kind. He looks dizzy with pleasure, his eyes are half lidded, lips parted and wet as Jaemin slides into him over and over again. He’s such a good omega when he wants to be, pliant and willing. Maybe it’s just because his body fits Jaemin so well. He cages Jaemin in with his legs, locking them around his waist like he wants him closer, deeper, begging to be knocked up. Like this, Jaemin has no choice but to follow through. Donghyuck wraps his arms around his shoulders, buries his flushed face against Jaemin’s neck. “H-hurry…” he whimpers, “Please.”

Jaemin pushes himself all the way in until his knot catches lightly at his hole, and Donghyuck’s scent bursts all at once, a wounded cry leaving his lips as he comes, trembling in Jaemin’s hold. In his excitement, he bears down tightly enough to jerk Jaemin’s orgasm out of him, sudden and strong, the purpose of this almost forgotten as he goes to pull out and realizes that he can’t. He fills Donghyuck up and stays there until the knot goes down, whispering incoherencies against his ear.

If it takes, then they won’t have to do this again.

Deep down, Jaemin hopes it doesn’t take.

♕

It is a most precarious arrangement.

Donghyuck still fights Jaemin at every turn. They argue over everything and nothing at all. Donghyuck finds Jaemin annoying enough to comment on how his very breathing is too loud, but not enough to keep from spearing himself open on his knot or arching into his touch.

In the month following, they don’t miss a single Even Day. Most times they make it to the bedroom, but sometimes Donghyuck lets Jaemin take him against that table in his study, the omega’s legs crudely wrapped around his waist while Jaemin thrusts desperately into him, grinding into his sweet spot until Donghyuck is pink-cheeked and sweaty and panting against his open mouth. They do it in the dining room, in the bath, in darkened stairwells in the castle. Dedication to the cause, is what one might call it.

To the uneducated gaze it might appear that the best of their honeymoon phase has finally begun, that they are unable to keep their hands off each other, burning with love and lust and hunger. Of all the things, Jaemin is only sure about hunger.

Donghyuck’s hunger. To touch and be touched. To kiss and be kissed. Jaemin wonders how he kept it to himself for so long. Is it possible to be both enemies and lovers? Donghyuck seems to think so.

“I always reek of you,” Donghyuck says, one Even Day.

When he rolls out from underneath Jaemin and slides out of bed, his legs are still a little wobbly. “It’s disgusting.”

It is unusual for them to talk after the act. Usually, Donghyuck allows Jaemin to come inside him, and then they lie or sit in silence until the knot goes down. Donghyuck rolls out from underneath him, tidies his clothes, and stalks back down the hallway to his bedroom. Today, Donghyuck turns to look at him like he’s expecting an answer to his provocation.

“Disgusting?” Jaemin echoes, “Does my scent not appease you?”

“No it—Well yes, but—it is strange. To feel like I belong to someone else.”

“What do I smell like?”

Donghyuck lifts his left wrist to his nose, eyes fluttering shut as he inhales. “Like…like a winter forest. Wild bergamot, cedar wood. Pine.” He turns pink as soon as he says it. Turns around. Clears his throat. “Do not get excited. It is biological. Nothing more.”

“I did not say anything. You have said more than enough.”

Enough, as in if Donghyuck truly hated it he would have the maids draw him a bath after each and every meeting of theirs. Enough, as in Jaemin is going to keep scenting him during sex until their deal is up.

Donghyuck catches his gaze in the mirror. “I do not like it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like there is a joke only you are privy to.”

“I just find you amusing, Donghyuck.”

“Happy to be of service,” Donghyuck grumbles. He looks down again to busy himself with the multitude of buttons on his shirt.

A knock sounds on Jaemin’s door, and Jaemin quickly shuffles into his pants to go over and open it. The staff standing behind looks startled to see him shirtless.

“Yes?”

“Your Majesty—the physician is here. Where shall I tell him to set up?”

“The cellar is fine. Tell him I won’t be long.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

As soon as Jaemin gets back Donghyuck asks, “Where are you going?”

Jaemin focuses on getting his arms through his sleeves, shrugging the material onto his shoulders and buttoning up. “I have an appointment,” he says. He looks over his shoulder to add, “It does not concern you.”

Donghyuck is undeterred. He’s right on Jaemin’s heels all the way back to the bedroom door. “Why are you seeing the doctor again so soon? He was here at the same time last week. And the week before, and the week before that. Is it tradition here?”

“Tradition?” Jaemin pauses, his hand hovering above the door handle. “No.”

“So?”

Jaemin gives him a puzzled look. “So…?”

“So? What is it? What ails you?”

“I'm perfectly fine. Shall we have another round later to test how healthy I am?”

“Do not mock me,” Donghyuck says. He leans in, lowers his voice. “If there's something going on with you, don’t you think I have a right to know? Am I not entitled to the affairs of my mate?”

“Ah. So I am your mate now. Only when it serves you?”

“I do not wish to argue with you.”

“We are not arguing, we’re merely having a conversation. A simple, civil conversation.”

“If I am to be a widower I would like to know.”

“Do you wish to be a widower?”

“What? No—I just—No.”

Jaemin tilts his head. “So this is your way of saying you’ve grown to care for me?”

Donghyuck opens and closes his mouth. He suddenly looks so flustered that Jaemin cannot help but laugh.

“I am not dying,” Jaemin says, finally.

“You vex me,” says Donghyuck, “So much. And so often.”

He opens the door before Jaemin can, and slams it behind him upon exit.

Jaemin waits a few moments before exhaling in relief.

He’ll have to start being more discreet.

♕

In the short time Jaemin has been alive—and in the shorter time that he has been king—he has never once attended a meeting with the advisors that left him nothing short of infuriated.

Every week, they ask him to come in with ideas, with notes on their notes, only to disregard his suggestions completely. It had been frustrating to watch when his father had to deal with it, and his father was an extremely patient man. A better one, certainly. If only he could see Jaemin now. Would he be proud of him? Disappointed? Jaemin doesn’t like to dwell on it. He walks out as soon as the weekly debrief is over, not bothering to worry about the usual niceties. If they think him rude for it, so be it. He’s sure to get an earful from his mother later, but that seems so small a consequence now. He barrels past the people in the hallways, walking outdoors without a coat. He passes the ice sculpture in the courtyard, and doesn’t register the lingering cold until he’s far into the maze of the garden. He pauses to catch his breath, rage melting into resignation.

Amidst the damp branches there, Jaemin catches a whiff of Donghyuck’s familiar summer perfume. He turns, half-expecting Donghyuck to be standing behind him, only to realize he’s somehow wandered into Donghyuck’s part of the garden, a few paces away from the greenhouse. He straightens and walks toward it without thinking.

Donghyuck spends a lot of time in the greenhouse.

He’s sitting on the couch in the middle of the glass construction, though sitting does not feel apt because he is doing so in the most peculiar way. He’s upside down, legs thrown over the back of the chair with his head hanging off the edge. He has an open book in hand, seemingly lost within its pages. At his side, the palace Samoyed snoozes in a pool of sunlight.

Jaemin can only get glimpses of Donghyuck with his guard down like this, by lingering in doorways and just out of sight, so he allows himself to look, if only for a little while. There’s an odd feeling of longing that he doesn’t bother to place, and then he steps inside the greenhouse. Donghyuck does not even look up when he walks in, so taken with whatever he’s reading that even Zero getting up from his side trot over to Jaemin does not cause him to stir.

Jaemin looks down at Zero, crouching down so he can pet him properly. Donghyuck turns another page in his book. Jaemin rests his cheek on Zero’s head, soothed, and decides to make himself known.

“What are you reading?”

Donghyuck startles at once, dropping the leather bound book directly onto his face. He recovers quickly enough, sitting up and folding his legs underneath him. “You scared me.”

“My apologies.” Jaemin nods at the empty space next to him. “May I?”

“Well of course, Your Maj—”

“Jaemin. Just Jaemin.”

“Of course, Jaemin.”

Jaemin sits down next to him, and Zero follows, climbing onto his lap like he isn’t far too big to do so. Jaemin manages to cajole the samoyed into resting only his head on his lap instead, and he resigns himself to absently rubbing his fur while Donghyuck delves into the plot of the book he’s reading. Jaemin listens as intently as he can. It’s a romance novel he’d gotten from the library, something about star crossed lovers and fate. Donghyuck is greatly impassioned by it, and has been talking for the better part of twenty minutes when he suddenly realizes exactly who it is that he’s talking to.

“Oh, is it an Even Day?”

“Yesterday was an Even Day, so it stands to reason that today is not.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck says again. His posture sags forwards again, the book hanging loosely from his graceful fingers. “What are you doing here then?”

“I don’t know,” Jaemin says, feeling rather sheepish as he busies himself with petting Zero, “I…just needed some time away. I suppose.”

Donghyuck tilts his head sideways, not unlike a puppy himself. “Away?”

“Yes. Just away.”

“And you’re choosing…to spend away with me?”

“Well, yes.”

“This is coming from the man who didn’t speak to me for weeks after we got married? Who avoids me unless he’s actively trying to get his dick inside me? Really?”

Jaemin winces at the mention of it. Sometimes he forgets Donghyuck has legitimate reasons to dislike him. “I can leave. If that is what you wish.”

Donghyuck seems to wrestle with it. Jaemin braces himself for a clean exit. “No. Stay,” Donghyuck says, finally. “But if we’re spending time together then I refuse to be cooped up in this greenhouse.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I want to go into town!”

“Oh. I'm not sure that’s a good idea. Besides, we're not allowed outside the castle during our honeymoon period.“

Zero barks like he hates the word honeymoon. Or like Jaemin is a lying liar. It feels like both.

“Is that so? I’ve seen you sneak out several times already.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Donghyuck narrows his eyes. “You’re not as subtle or mysterious as you think.”

“You’re right. I’m only as subtle as you give me credit for.”

“And I’m not giving you any.”

“Why? None of the staff know. So far you’re the only person who has brought it up.”

“So you admit you’ve been sneaking outside the castle when you’re supposed to be spending your honeymoon with your darling omega?”

There’s a lapse of almost silence. Zero’s quiet panting, the hum of the greenhouse, Donghyuck’s judging stare.

Jaemin sighs and feels a headache coming on. “Oh, Donghyuck. I’m not sure I like you very much.”

Donghyuck rises. “Then we’ve reached an impasse. I’ll go get dressed.”

♕

The door to Chenle’s bar is bolted shut. Jaemin walks around to the side to stare in through the window, hoping he doesn’t look as disreputable as he feels. Save for the daylight, it is dark indoors, and all the chairs are up on the tables. Oddly quiet for a Saturday evening.

“Excuse me? We’re not open today.”

Jaemin turns around to find Chenle standing behind him with an unimpressed look on his face. Upon seeing Jaemin's stunned expression, Chenle rolls his eyes.

“Oh. It’s just you.”

Chenle uses his keys to let them in, out of the street, and Donghyuck wastes no time in making himself comfortable at the counter.

Jaemin clears his throat. “Chenle, meet Donghyuck. Donghyuck, meet Chenle.”

“Hello,” Donghyuck says. He takes off his hood to beam at their host. “It’s so nice to meet you. Are you a friend of the king? I did not think he had any friends.”

“That I am. How lucky is he to have me…but you, you’re the prince I’ve heard so much about?”

“I have friends,” Jaemin mutters, quietly to himself.

They both ignore him.

“You’ve heard about me? Only good things, I hope.”

“The best,” Chenle holds out a hand for him to shake, bowing his head as he does so. “I’m so very pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty.”

“Oh stop that. Call me Donghyuck. Or Hyuck if you like. It’s what my friends back home call me.”

“You have a nickname?” Jaemin says.

Donghyuck fixes him with a bored look. “You never asked.”

There’s the sound of shoes coming down the wooden stairs that connects Chenle’s home to the bar below. From that corridor, comes a voice that Jaemin hasn’t heard in a long time.

“What took you so long,” Renjun is saying, his voice is stretched out, pouty, a tone that Jaemin can tell by ear alone is only reserved for Chenle. If intuition wasn’t enough, Renjun’s face slackens into embarrassment and then surprise the moment he reaches the landing and sees them all gathered by the counter. Oh dear.

“Jaemin?” he says, soft and unsure like he can’t believe it.

Jaemin clears his throat. “Junnie, hello.”

“Hi.”

There’s an awkward long silence between them. Renjun stares at him for longer than is probably necessary, and Jaemin can feel Donghyuck’s gaze flowing between them, trying to figure them out, but he can’t bring himself to look away. Renjun hasn’t changed much since he left the castle, but that is exactly what makes it so harrowing. His storm gray hair is a little longer, his cheeks a little fuller, and there’s a gold band on his ring finger that wasn’t there before.

When Chenle had called Renjun his husband, Jaemin had assumed it was a joke. An approximate metaphor for their dedication to each other at best. So this new piece of jewelry—well it feels like a slap if he were entitled to one. Which he surely is not. Jaemin is married himself. He is also the one who chose to let Renjun go all those years ago and has been keeping his distance ever since, so why does it hurt so much, even after all this time?

Chenle clears his throat, and Renjun turns a delicate shade of pink, turning to him to say, “You didn’t tell me we had guests.”

“If I’m being honest I’m just as surprised by this as you are,” Chenle says.

Donghyuck sticks his eager hand out again. “Hello! I’m Donghyuck. The husband.”

Renjun takes it. “Oh, hello. It’s so nice to meet you. You’re just as handsome as they say.”

“And you are more handsome than anyone else in this kingdom. Is that why they’ve kept you hidden away?”

Renjun looks over at Jaemin, and then back to Donghyuck, another blush creeping up on his delicate face. “I just like to keep to myself, Your Majesty.”

“What exactly are you doing here?” Chenle asks. He doesn’t sound upset, just inquisitive, leaning back against the counter by Donghyuck with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Donghyuck wanted to see the town. I could not think of a better spot to bring him.”

“Oh. Well I’m flattered but—should you be here? Both of you? Either of you? Should I expect the Royal Guard to break down my door any time in the next few moments?”

Jaemin doesn’t know where to begin. “Well the answer to a lot of those questions is no—”

“We shall be discreet!” Donghyuck says. He gets off the stool and closes the distance between him and Jaemin, loops an arm around Jaemin’s elbow and makes an expression Jaemin has never seen before. The omega looks up at him, fluttering his eyelashes and talking through a most convincing pout. “Won't we, darling?”

“I don’t think—”

Renjun chimes in. “You could stay. Chenle is taking me to the Equinox Festival. It’s already begun, so maybe we can all go together.”

The Equinox festival happens every year at the change of the seasons. The celebration of the darkest day of the year, signaling the bleak midwinter melting into longer days and shorter nights, into those few months where the sun graces Trasta with her warm embrace. Jaemin has never been. The event is known among the royals for being raucous, messy—alcohol driven. Behavior that Jaemin would believe was far beneath them had he not been to many royal parties himself.

He doesn’t get to answer.

“Splendid idea,” Chenle says, with no small amount of mischief, “It’ll be exactly like a double date.”

♕

Donghyuck had said he was sick of being cooped up in the castle. What he had really meant was that he was sick of being cooped up with Jaemin, Jaemin’s mother and his waitstaff. Which is fair enough, Jaemin supposes.

“A smile might be nice…” Chenle muses. He and Jaemin are standing off to the side while Renjun and Donghyuck ooh and aah over one of the jewelry stalls close to the heart of the town. The two of them had gotten on exactly like a house on fire, and Jaemin watches as they chat enthusiastically between themselves. Donghyuck holds up two glittering jewels to his ears, and Renjun helps him try them on. Jaemin has never seen Donghyuck quite so animated. He supposes he had come close to it earlier in the greenhouse, but seeing Donghyuck in full swing like this, buzzing with energy, makes Jaemin feel nothing short of dejected.

Chenle nudges him. “Seriously, Jaemin. Lighten up.”

“Nothing to smile about in my life.” Jaemin quips back, to which Chenle replies with his full-bodied laughter.

“He’s not as bad as you made him sound. He’s actually really cute. I maintain that he’s exactly your type. Scarily so. How did your mother convince his family to give him away?”

The details of it are hazy. Jaemin himself had not known of Donghyuck’s existence until the night before he was set to arrive in Trasta. He had known his mother was searching for a mate for him, but he had not expected anything to come of it. He remembers her phrasing it like she was doing them both a favor: Jaemin needed to be wed to a respectable omega in order to gain back some power in the eyes of the parliament, and Donghyuck—well Donghyuck was an omega in his prime who had turned down enough suitors to fill an entire village. Jaemin reasons that it must have been desperation on his parents' part. Trasta would provide his island with protection and resources, and likewise Ilio would bless their kingdom with increased trade routes and an omega who could provide them an heir or several.

It was nothing more than a perfect alliance of interests for everyone but the two who were to be wed.

Jaemin rolls his shoulders back. “Like I said. Nothing to smile about.”

♕

Darkness falls swiftly.

They round out their trip to the market with a basket of foods before heading down to the main square, where there’s lights and music set up for dancing. It is—indeed a raucous affair, but it feels more like a concentration of joy and laughter than the barbaric ritual Jaemin’s mother had led him to believe it was.

After they’ve found a spot to set their things down, Donghyuck and Jaemin hang back, and Chenle and Renjun head to the dance floor. They stick it out for several songs, and when the music slows down, they do too. From Jaemin’s place on the floor, he watches as Chenle lets Renjun clumsily twirl him around, and Renjun's lips are still curved around laughter when Chenle leans in to kiss him, tender and slow. Jaemin looks away then. When he turns to his side, Donghyuck is watching them like he’s in a trance.

“Are you alright?”

“Oh! Yes, Quite.” Donghyuck clears his throat and looks down at the blanket they’re sitting on. His ears are red. “I just—I have always wanted to experience something like that.”

Jaemin thinks of the disaster that was Donghyuck’s birthday party. “…A slow dance?”

“Love. True love. A love that makes it feel like the world is empty of all others but you and your person.” Donghyuck turns to look at Jaemin, then. “Renjun told me you all are childhood friends. He said Chenle gave up his title so they could be together. It is the kind of thing you read about in fairy tales, and I know it’s a little juvenile but when I was younger I wanted someone…I wanted someone to look at me like that. I wanted to fall in love and have my heart fly open and be consumed by it. I mean—I wanted someone to choose me, to fight for me. To be with me. That’s all. I told you it was juvenile.”

“No, it’s not,” Jaemin says, trying not to take it to heart. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever are you sorry for?”

A lot of things, Jaemin thinks. Dooming Donghyuck to a lifetime of indifference, most of all. “You didn’t have a choice,” he says simply.

“Neither did you. We’re just playing our roles. You don't have to apologize to me. Not for this.” He pauses. Laughter and music and cups clicking together fill the space in between them. Donghyuck’s next words leave Jaemin stiff. “Were you in love with Renjun, back then?”

If there were ever someone with a morbid curiosity for romance, Donghyuck fits the bill. Jaemin wonders just how much Renjun told him.

“I was,” Jaemin says. “I think…if I’m being honest with myself…I loved them both.” It’s the first time he’s admitted it out loud. Primarily because he’s had no one to talk about it with, and secondly because denial is such a powerful poison. He tries to gauge Donghyuck’s reaction and can't.

He looks like he’s about to ask Jaemin something else, but Chenle’s voice cuts through the atmosphere.

“Would you like to dance?” He asks. He's looking at Donghyuck. He’s also yelling a bit, tipsy and overexcited. Jaemin can’t help but smile at it.

Jaemin hadn’t noticed him walking over. Both he and Renjun are sweaty despite the nighttime chill, flushed and smiling and soaked in orange lamplight. Chenle kneels to offer Donghyuck his hand.

Donghyuck looks at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure? What about—” He looks over at Renjun, who simply waves him off.

“I have the rest of my life to dance with that guy. Go on, have fun.”

“So I’m just some guy now?” Chenle squawks.

Renjun playfully rolls his eyes. “Go.”

So Donghyuck takes Chenle’s hand, and disappears into the crowd without a second glance back. Jaemin watches them leave, something briny settling in his throat. He swallows it down.

Renjun sits next to him on the blanket and sifts through their picnic basket, before plucking a grape off and putting it into his mouth. It’s still bulging in his cheek when he says, “I know you say it was a marriage of convenience, but your eyes tell me otherwise.”

“You must be seeing things.”

“Oh? Is it such a bad thing to fall in love with your husband?”

Jaemin scoffs. “I am not in love with him. I barely know him.”

“But you could. And he could know you, and how lovely it would be to have a companion within those high castle walls of yours.”

To be known, Jaemin thinks. “I could not imagine a worse fate.”

Renjun huffs and reaches into the basket for another grape. “So bleak. You haven’t changed at all, I see.”

“I just don’t see the point.”

“Must it…have a point?”

“Of course. Everything has a point.”

“To love someone is not a means to an end. Most love is without reason. It just is.”

“I so missed your philosophical spiels, Junnie.”

Renjun ignores the dig. “I missed you too.”

They sit in comfortable silence. In close quarters, Renjun's folded knee pressed against Jaemin’s thigh as the alpha watches Chenle and Donghyuck twirl across the dance floor. Renjun watches Jaemin watch them.

“One of these days you’ll have to decide on something to stand for. That something might as well be your own happiness.”

“I stand for things. I stand for plenty.”

“You stand for nothing, you fall for everything, you let your mother walk you around like a puppet on a string. Tell me when was the last time you did something just because you wanted to. Not to meet a goal or impress someone or fulfill some duty. When was the last time you lived?”

“Renjun.”

“Jaemin.”

In the short time that Renjun knew Jaemin he was able to peel apart his fortress and reach his hand within in a way that nobody has come close to doing since. Except for one. Maybe that’s what unsettles Jaemin about Donghyuck. He reminds him too much of Renjun.

It’s too much, suddenly. Jaemin can’t look at him.

Renjun calls his name again, soft. His palm comes to rest upon the back of Jaemin’s balled up fist. “If you feel something for him—anything at all—promise me you won’t run away from it. If you feel it rushing in, promise you won’t hide. If you couldn’t do it for me,” Renjun says softly, “the least you could do is try and do it for yourself.”

“Renjun, I’m sorry—”

“Ah Jaemin….it’s a little too late for all of that now, don’t you think?”

You should hate me, Jaemin thinks. Why don’t you hate me?

Jaemin doesn’t see anything but mirth in his eyes, dark as they are, reflecting the lantern light, glimmering pools in a great big darkness. When he smiles, it makes Jaemin feel warm all over.

“Donghyuck is sweet. He deserves a good love story, don’t you think?”

♕

Donghyuck wants someone to fight for him. Jaemin does not know how to fight. Not really. All his life he’s been prodded and poked into being whatever other people wanted him to be. The highest ranking alpha, king to all, friend to none, his passions secondary to the throne. Jaemin knows how to wield a sword, how to slice and jab and control. Conquer—but he doesn’t know how to fight. He’d never been shown how. In a way, Renjun is right. He’s never even fought for himself.

“You seem distracted,” Doyoung says. Jaemin startles at once, and his carefully poised arrow flies out of his bow prematurely, landing in a tree trunk several feet away from his target. They’re out hunting, Deep in the woods on the north side of the kingdom, with the rest of the party spread out around them. Jaemin lowers his bow and watches helplessly as the deer they’d been tracking scurries away.

He sighs. “I told you I wasn’t up for it.”

“Indeed. I just thought you could do with some time outside the castle.”

Jaemin gives his cousin a sideways glance. He’s had enough time outside the castle as of late. People still don’t know that he and Donghyuck had snuck out the week previous. It’s his only torture to bear, the way Donghyuck had laughed and danced all night, how he’d still been glowing golden when they’d snuck back in through Jaemin’s bedroom window.

Thank you, Donghyuck gushed. He’d been so happy that he’d darted a kiss on Jaemin’s cheek before either of them could think of it. Donghyuck had apologized, and then Jaemin had apologized, and then they’d parted ways quite hastily.

But Jaemin is still thinking about that kiss now.

“I think I’ll head back, actually. I’ve been a bit dizzy all day. Probably best not to agitate it further.”

Doyoung’s expression contorts with worry. “Oh, shall I call the physician?”

“No.”

“Or maybe call off the hunt? I’ll head back with you—”

“No, cousin. Thank you, but I do not wish to ruin your fun.”

“Are you sure?” Doyoung asks, but Jaemin is already heading back to where they docked their horses. He has, in fact, been out of sorts all day, but it has less to do with his health and more to do with wanting to see Donghyuck, which is unusual in and of itself.

Jaemin goes over possible explanations for it during his ride back to the castle. The simplest answer is that his sudden inability to stay away from Donghyuck stems from a natural, biological need to have his omega nearby. A far stranger idea is that Jaemin has simply grown to enjoy Donghyuck’s company, and it had taken their outing and all the days following it for him to realize that.

Stranger still, is the fact that Donghyuck is standing on the palace steps when Jaemin arrives.

“Did you have a successful hunt?” Donghyuck asks. He has not a hair out of place, the furs keeping him warm make him look smaller than he is. Though the days have only gotten warmer since the festival, Donghyuck remains diligent in wearing all his layers each time he steps outside the castle. He helps Jaemin take off his quiver, and they walk back indoors together.

“I did,” Jaemin lies. “Were you off somewhere?”

“I was only going for a walk. Though I suppose now that you have returned I do not need to.”

“How did you spend your day?”

“Oh, you know. Getting dressed up by the maids for no reason. Perusing the library. Avoiding your mother,” Donghyuck says lightly. “I also found a new book to read, if you’re interested.”

Jaemin hums. “Later.”

“Is there something else you wanted to do, Your Majesty?”

“I…well yes.”

“What is it?”

“I wanted…I wanted the both of us to…”

Talk, Jaemin means to say, but how do you explain to your already-husband that you would like to court him. To see where things go. To try out things the normal way even though both of you are trapped in a marriage from which there is no escaping or normalcy or chance?

To love someone is not a means to an end. Renjun had said. Most love is without reason. It just is.

Jaemin wants to believe that. He wants to ask Donghyuck if he does.

Instead, Jaemin holds his palm out, and Donghyuck looks down at it before gingerly slipping his hand into his. His hand is ever-so-slightly smaller than Jaemin’s. Tanner. Softer. There are moles here too, one pressed above his knuckle like someone had liked to kiss that spot lifetimes ago and left their mark there. Everything about him makes Jaemin feel like he’s something to protect. He brushes his thumb over the wedding band on Donghyuck’s ring finger. When he looks back at Donghyuck’s face, the omega is frowning at him.

“Are you alright? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Even day,” Jaemin says, simply. He pretends not to see the way Donghyuck’s expression falls ever so slightly. Still, he doesn’t let go of Jaemin’s hand.

“Oh right,” he says, “Of course.”

♕

They have each other down to a clean tuned science, if only in the physical sense. Jaemin really only feels like he’s doing the right thing with Donghyuck when he goes down on him, or when Donghyuck pulls his hair and stifles a sweet noise against his throat. Heavy breathing suddenly feels like language, too. Donghyuck’s mouth is damp against Jaemin’s neck when the alpha finally comes inside him, and he keeps moving his hips ever so slightly, whimpering as he comes down from his high.

Jaemin wraps his arms around him and falls back onto the bed, both of them still breathing shallow.

Donghyuck is stuck in Jaemin’s lap, so in hindsight knotting him in this position probably wasn’t the smartest idea. He’s moved down enough to rest his head on Jaemin’s shoulder, but Jaemin can’t see anything over the top of his head, so he has no idea what expression he’s making.

“Does this feel okay for you?” Jaemin asks.

Donghyuck nods. His hair is soft against Jaemin’s bare skin. He smells like sweat and Jaemin and rose shampoo. “You were going to say something else, earlier,” he murmurs. “What was it?”

“I forget.”

“I wish you would talk to me.”

“We talk.”

Donghyuck sighs. “I wish you would talk to me about things that weren't the weather or tea time or copulating. I wish I knew things about you.”

“What is it that you wish to know about me?”

“Everything. I know how you like your coffee—and your steak. I know your favorite wine. I know that your father died not so long ago.That is all superficial. I only know because most of the people who serve you also know all of that. Tell me everything else.”

Jaemin racks his brain for something vaguely interesting but not extremely personal. “I don’t like hunting very much.”

“That’s not very alpha of you,” Donghyuck says, “Why do you go?”

“Because I must.”

“Because it’s what is expected,” Donghyuck corrects.

Jaemin doesn’t like that assessment very much. “Yes.”

“Fine. What else?”

“My favorite color is pink.”

“Mine’s black. What else?”

Jaemin blinks up at the ceiling, adjusts himself in the hopes that the ache between his shoulder blades will resolve itself. “Must we do this today? Right now?”

Donghyuck is quiet for a time. He attempts to move, which only agitates the knot and makes them both hiss.

“Alright,” he sighs. He puts his head back on Jaemin’s shoulder. “Perhaps we can talk about something else.”

“Thank you,” Jaemin says, though he knows right as he says it that it comes too soon.

“I greeted the royal physician on his way out again yesterday. If you are truly not dying, can you tell me why you see him weekly? He was rather tightlipped about the whole affair.”

“That’s probably because he was told to be.”

“Well yes, but I am your husband, am I not? Your one true confidante?”

“You’ve tried this once before. Drop it.”

Donghyuck doesn’t speak again. It is wholly uncharacteristic of him. He never misses a chance to cross swords with Jaemin. Never misses a critical verbal blow. These days Jaemin thinks he’s gotten too used to it. The back and forth. He doesn’t know how to communicate any other way.

For what feels like the thousandth time, he watches Donghyuck pull his pants back on, and watches him rearrange the strings on his blouse. Jaemin all but finches when Donghyuck breaks the silence once more.

“Sometimes I think that you want me to hate you.”

Jaemin swallows. “That is a myth.”

“Myth is all I have. I am running out of ways to ask you what you are about.”

“I answered all your questions. I do not know what else you want from me.”

“I have been here for months and I cannot name a single hobby of yours! Does it not trouble you that I’ve resorted to—to spying on you instead? To gazing at you through an open window like I were some outsider and not the—not your—” he pauses as if to collect himself. “You are the king, and only the king, and I am in a condition estranged from you that you do not care to change.”

It had not dawned upon Jaemin that Donghyuck was concerned about whether Jaemin liked him or not. Not until this moment. Not until he uttered those words.

Donghyuck wants Jaemin to like him. Donghyuck wants to be known. And liked. By Jaemin particularly. Jaemin cannot fathom why.

“I want you to look at me with something other than indifference,” Donghyuck continues, “I want—real anger! Real joy! Anything! Anything but this…” He gestures at Jaemin with his hands, vague and so clearly frustrated. “I want to not feel like you are looking through me when we speak. I know it is a lot to ask, but I cannot do this for much longer.”

Donghyuck huffs out a shaky breath and blinks rapidly like he’s going to cry, and it terrifies Jaemin so much. He’s never known how to deal with people crying. He probably stares at Donghyuck long enough to make him uncomfortable, but his mind is a haze of static.

Finally Donghyuck says, “Forget I said anything.”

He turns on his heel and heads towards the door. Jaemin gets up to follow him. He grabs him by the arm, and still Donghyuck refuses to look back at him.

“Perhaps it would make things easier if—”

“Un-hand me.”

So Jaemin does, only because he can feel how much distress Donghyuck is in, even if he doesn’t understand the cause. Donghyuck makes it all the way to the door before Jaemin can think to stop him, so maybe he raises his voice, maybe he barks it out like an order instead of a request. Either way, the damage is done. Donghyuck halts. When he turns around he’s crying indeed. The tip of his nose is red, and there are tears running hotly down his cheeks. Jaemin’s heart aches.

“I just want to be dismissed,” Donghyuck says. He won’t make eye-contact. “May I have that, Your Majesty?”

“No. I—” Jaemin steps forward, and Donghyuck steps back. “Alright, fine. I need you to understand that I cannot give you anything because I have nothing to give. I do not have any hobbies or devotion to share with you. I’m not even a person!”

“What does that even mean? What do you mean you’re not a person?”

“I have always been this—a thing to be put on display. I learned how to play the piano because my parents wanted me to. I like pink because it is my mother’s favorite color. I got good at hunting because my father liked it. My entire life I’ve been told when to sit, and stand and bow and cry and I’ve gotten so used to it that I don’t know how to be anything but this dressed up version of a man. I have nothing that belongs to me. Nothing original, anyway. I am bound by my duty to the throne. I do not have the luxury of pursuing anything else. I know you want me to share my life with you but this is it! This is what I am. People have dreams and—and passions and I have not dreamt of anything in a very long time. I am not a person, nor do I deserve to be.”

The only sound in the room thereafter is Donghyuck’s quiet sniffling. In a moment, he bridges the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Jaemin as quickly as he’d pushed him away. Jaemin’s hands hang limply at his sides. “Don’t say that,” Donghyuck whispers, “Of course you’re a person. You’re a person to me. I don't care about whatever it is that you’ve convinced yourself of—and in that vein, am I not allowed to judge for myself what kind of person you are? Don’t you think I deserve that much?”

Jaemin remembers how to move then. He reaches up, cups Donghyuck’s face and brushes a tear off his cheek with the back of his hand. Finally he admits, “If you hated me I could not bear it.”

“I have a feeling that I won’t.”

♕

They set out from the castle around lunchtime. Jaemin had arranged for the kitchens to prepare a picnic basket fit for two kings, as well as a small boat for the two of them to sit on the lake in. And everything has gone alright so far, it’s just that—well, it’s been a long time since Jaemin has been on a date.

The lake is thawed but freezing. The strawberries are sour and there is cork stuck in the neck of the champagne bottle that Jaemin cannot remove no matter how hard he tries. Still, Donghyuck looks as ecstatic as he had the day Jaemin had taken him to the Equinox Festival.

“Do you need help with that?” Donghyuck asks. Jaemin sets the bottle of champagne back in the basket, giving up for now.

“Hm? No.”

Donghyuck gives him a look, and then returns to gazing at the willow trees as they float by. “It is nice here. Quiet.”

“My father used to bring me. He was…enamored by nature. By wild things, just like you.”

“What was he like? I mean—Everyone says he passed. No one ever talks about him in detail.”

“He was a good king. A good father. Kind. Patient. Charismatic. Everyone says that’s the one thing I could not borrow from him.”

“That’s mean. You’re charismatic.”

Jaemin gives him a look.

“I mean to someone, I’m sure…” Donghyuck murmurs.

“He also had a weak heart. He hid it well, so it came as a shock to everyone when he…you know,” Jaemin says. He makes a vague gesture with his hands, barrelling on before Donghyuck can say anything. “That is another thing we share. It is what I see the physician for every week. Our sessions are entirely preventative—There’s absolutely nothing that shows I would succumb to the same fate anytime soon, but between you and me they just help me sleep easier at night. I like…I just like knowing.”

“Is this why everyone is so insistent on an heir? They think something is going to happen to you?”

“Yes. Partly. It is also simply tradition. The greatest reigning monarch had sixteen.”

“Sixteen?” Donghyuck echoes, “Children?”

Jaemin laughs at his horrified expression. “Yes. A bit mad, isn't it?”

“A bit.” Donghyuck leans forward in the boat. “Shall we try to break the record?”

Jaemin feels nothing short of abject horror at the idea.

“That was a joke,” Donghyuck clarifies. “Why didn’t you just tell me about your father when I asked, hm? You could've saved me the meltdown.”

“I’m not good at sharing things about myself. And I didn’t want to scare you. Or make you feel even more trapped than you already did.”

“I never felt trapped in this marriage, Jaemin. I only felt alone in it. I was just…so very lonely,” Donghyuck says. “I know my reputation precedes me, but I was fine with marrying you. You didn’t seem like other alphas…as funny as it sounds. I thought we could at least become friends. I was crushed flat when you didn’t seem to care for any of it at all.”

“Oh,” Jaemin says. “I apologize for making things difficult for you, Donghyuck.”

“Thank you, Jaemin. As long as you know you were a massive dickhead I think we’ll be alright!”

That makes Jaemin laugh. He reaches for the unopened champagne bottle once more.

Donghyuck holds out a hand. “You’ve been trying to open that forever, let me have a go.”

“I have it.”

“You so clearly do not. Gimme.” He lunges forward. The boat rocks with the sudden motion, and Jaemin gets a bad feeling. He holds the bottle out of reach, and still Donghyuck persists.

“Donghyuck stop it you’ll—” Donghyuck lunges forward again, and then the next thing Jaemin registers is a splash and ice cold water.

He gasps when his head breaks the surface, “Tip us over.” he finishes.

“Oh it’s fe—freezing—” Donghyuck laughs like he’s in shock. He repeats that sentence about three more times, gasping as he treads above the water. Jaemin can’t believe it himself. Donghyuck’s tone turns more urgent. “Wait. Jaemin. Help.”

The people of Ilio are known for being strong swimmers. Most of them learn to swim before they can even walk, so Jaemin is almost positive that Donghyuck is pulling his leg right now. Except in the very next second Donghyuck’s head is going under, and Jaemin’s fear becomes very real.

It is a terrible first date.

♕

Jaemin can feel Donghyuck’s eyes digging into his back as he throws another log onto the fireplace. It crackles softly, and he kneels to poke at the flame, still dripping icy lake water all over the carpet. “Are you warming up back there?”

“Yes,” Donghyuck says sheepishly. He’s sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, a fluffy gray towel draped over his head and wrapped around his body. “I’d feel better if you did too.”

Jaemin turns to look at him, and Donghyuck picks up another one of the towels the maids had left for them. “C’mere.”

Jaemin crawls over and sits in between Donghyuck’s legs, back to chest, and lets the omega share some of his excess body heat.

“May I confess something?” Donghyuck says quietly. Jaemin almost doesn’t hear him, he’s so preoccupied with Donghyuck massaging his scalp and ears dry with the towel.

“Confess?”

“Yes. I pretended to drown so you could save me.”

“I knew it. Why would you lie?”

“Lying is such a grievous word. I was merely playing pretend.”

Jaemin twists around to face him. “But Why?”

“You were enjoying it so much. Being the strong, protective alpha—were you not?”

“I can’t believe you put your life in danger to prove a point.”

“I knew you’d be able to handle it. And I thought it was cute. Sort of hot, too.”

“You are an idiot. A reckless one at that.”

“I was right though, wasn’t I?”

“Well it's like you always say, it’s merely biological.”

“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”

“That's not fair.”

“Never said I was playing fair, alpha,” Donghyuck teases, and Jaemin doesn’t mean to have a visceral reaction to that. He knows Donghyuck is joking, but still. Being called alpha riles him up. Only because it’s Donghyuck, only because it feels like the prince is showing him his soft underbelly. Donghyuck must sense it too. His eyes drag down to Jaemin’s lips, and his heady gaze makes Jaemin’s breath hitch in his throat. He licks his lips.

“So maybe I like it,” Jaemin whispers. “Maybe I want to be your alpha and take care of you.”

Donghyuck sounds breathless when he says, “And tell me how exactly…would you be taking care of me?”

“I’d much rather show you.”

“It is not an Even Day,” Donghyuck says. He leans away, but his arousal is clear, still soaking the air between them. Jaemin buries his face in his neck, breathes in, tries to compose himself. Breathing in only makes it worse. Donghyuck smells good. Too good, in a way that Jaemin can never place. He puts some distance between them as an act of self preservation, and Donghyuck simultaneously seems grateful and sad at the loss.

“Indeed,” Jaemin echoes. “It is not an even day.”

“May I ask you for a favor or two?”

Jaemin lifts his head to look at him. “Or two?”

“If I may, Your Majesty—Jaemin. I would like to write to my brother.”

“Have they been stopping you from doing so?”

“No. I just—I wanted to invite him here. Only for a few days. I do not think your mother would allow it, which is why I wanted to ask you before I asked him to make the journey. I know you said it’s difficult to—”

“Of course. I'll talk to her. What’s the second thing?”

“I was getting to it…” Donghyuck pouts, “I wanted to see your friends again.”

♕

The days grow warmer, and as they do, they melt together like colors on a canvas, saturated hues, varying in vibrancy, but all together quite beautiful.

Jaemin gets to meet Donghyuck’s brother. He is tall. He makes Donghyuck appear to be the younger sibling for all of five minutes before he's startled by a melting icicle crashing to the floor in the courtyard and ducking behind him for cover. Jisung is quiet. Shy. The meekest alpha Jaemin has ever had the pleasure of meeting. He's so kind to Jaemin, too, even though Jaemin is sure Donghyuck's written accounts of him can't have been all that affectionate. He tells Jaemin to visit someday, asks him to take care of his brother in the meantime, and chooses to spend his last day in Trasta with them both. Jisung and Donghyuck appear to be polar opposites, but seeing them up close Jaemin understands more than anything the mutual admiration they hold for each other.

After Jisung's week long visit, Donghyuck and Jaemin talk a lot more and argue quite less, which sounds as antithetical as it feels.

Odd Days consist of hours spent chatting in the greenhouse or in the library, Donghyuck reading out pages of text while Jaemin lies on his belly and comes to terms with knowing he just likes to hear Donghyuck’s voice. They play chess and cards and badminton—and then they have to stop playing because Donghyuck gets too competitive.

The Even Days don’t change by much. Donghyuck still shuffles off to his room after they finish, but for a short while after they actually talk, and Donghyuck lets Jaemin wipe him down and hold him in the midst of sleepy rambling about Ilio, about climbing fruit trees, about sun baked earth and his best friends, each story more ridiculous than the last. Sometimes—especially when Donghyuck gets like that—Jaemin feels like kissing him just to kiss him, but despite their newfound familiarity Jaemin believes there are certain lines one should not cross. Still, everything else feels so natural that Jaemin wonders how they were doing it any other way in the first place.

On the warmest, most peculiar day ever, Chenle and Renjun grace the castle with their presence. Well, “the castle” is a bit of a stretch. They stay on the outskirts of it, by the lake, and Chenle makes bitter remarks about monarchy all the while, but they share sandwiches and tarts and pink wine and it feels calm and real and good. Renjun sits on the bank in a handmade crown of daisies and paints a palm sized portrait of Donghyuck that he allows Jaemin to keep. He shoots Jaemin a knowing look when he lingers on Donghyuck’s bare thighs for too long. He gives him a pleading one when Chenle hoists him over his shoulder, threatening to throw him into the water before stumbling in with him anyway.

They spend the rest of the afternoon swimming and laughing and getting just shy of sunburnt, and for the first time in years, Jaemin feels like a person.

♕

Jaemin is soaking in the bath house when Donghyuck walks in and starts wordlessly stripping.

Jaemin immediately motions for the guards to leave before the omega’s final piece of clothing comes off, and then he’s forgetting how to breathe as he watches Donghyuck dip a toe into the steaming warm water. 

“You know you could just tell them to leave, right? You are aware that that is a thing you can do?”

Donghyuck sinks in up to his shoulders, blinking innocently when he responds, “Where’s the fun in that?”

“If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.”

“I'm asking,” Donghyuck crawls forward, all dewey and brilliant. “This is me asking.”

“I'm all yours.”

Donghyuck smiles. “I like the sound of that.” He leans forward to nose at Jaemin’s cheek. “Missed you today.”

Jaemin keeps him at bay with a hand on his chest. “It is not an even day,” Jaemin says, foolishly. He knows it is because something like amusement flashes in Donghyuck's eyes. He cups Jaemin’s face with wet palms.

“It is decidedly an odd day. but…” Donghyuck drops his hands, sliding them down to Jaemin’s shoulders. “I'd rather not do that anymore. No more even days, or odd days…I would like to cherish just days with you. Does that sound alright?”

“Of course.”

“Marvelous,” Donghyuck says. He seals it with a kiss. It’s so casually done. Jaemin has been wanting a kiss like this for weeks now, and Donghyuck does it so easily, crosses a line he put up himself just to feel Jaemin’s lips against his.

“Donghyuck—”

“Oh, be quiet.”

The only reason Jaemin doesn’t say anything is because it is much more pleasant to be kissed than to argue. He allows Donghyuck to lick into his mouth, wind his arms around his neck and ease down on his thigh. Jaemin puts his hands on his waist to ground himself against the hot press of his mouth. Donghyuck murmurs against his lips, “I like it too.”

Jaemin traces his lips across Donghyuck’s flushed warm cheek, tracing damp skin with soft pecks. He makes it all the way to his ear just to whisper, “Like what?”

“I…I like that you want to take care of me. I like that look you get in your eyes, like you could want nothing more….” Donghyuck’s voice breaks and pitches into a moan when Jaemin licks a rivulet of water off his neck, right over his scent gland. If Donghyuck were in heat, Jaemin would feel compelled to bite down, claim him for life, but as things stand a proper mating bite would only hurt him, so Jaemin settles for sucking a bruise over the tan skin. Donghyuck puts a hand on the back of his neck to draw him in for a kiss, and Jaemin goes without question, sighing as he licks sloppily into the heat of his mouth. Donghyuck tastes sharp and sweet, like he’d just finished eating pomegranate, though Jaemin can barely tell because his scent overwhelms almost everything else. Donghyuck reaches down between them to wrap a hand around Jaemin’s stiffening cock, stroking him up and down as their kisses get more heated.

“Touch me, Jaemin. I need you…please.”

They don’t say much, even though it feels like there is so much to say. Jaemin feels he might burst under the weight of it. He reaches into the water to wrap Donghyuck’s legs around his waist, easier than usual in the water, and presses him back against the sandstone steps. It can’t be comfortable, but when Jaemin slips inside him Donghyuck throws his head back with a whine that doesn't give anything away but his abject delight.

His eyes are dark when they lock gazes again. Their noses bump, and Donghyuck brings a hand up to cradle his face like he doesn’t want to be looked away from, not that Jaemin would dream of it. Donghyuck looks so beautiful just like this, and feels so good, tight and impossibly wet as Jaemin languidly thrusts into him. He slips out a couple of times, and they both laugh when Donghyuck guides him back through, shaken by their joint desperation.

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck gasps, Jaemin. Alpha. My alpha.

A moan, a shudder, Donghyuck’s nails scratching just underneath his shoulder blade, imprinting into his skin, all of him hot and tight and burning. Jaemin is consumed by the flame of his desire. He rocks his hips forward again, and the water dances up to their waists. He eclipses Donghyuck’s mouth with his own, holding him as they hurtle towards the edge together.

Donghyuck is so worked up that he comes almost immediately, burying his face in the crook of Jaemin’s neck like he’s embarrassed about it, teeth bluntly grazing over the skin there like he’d wanted to bite down too.

It’s probably for the best, because knotting him here would mean they’d be stuck sitting in lukewarm water for longer than either of them would prefer. It doesn’t make the more rational option any easier.

“Bed,” Jaemin manages to say, and Donghyuck protests immediately.

“Why?”

“Wanna get my knot in you, Hyuckie. Can’t do that here.”

“You could. You’re just a coward.”

Donghyuck is the only person Jaemin knows who uses antagonism as a form of flirtation. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make Jaemin want him any less.

♕

Donghyuck is in full bloom. He pushes Jaemin into the bed with a roughness he has never seen. He climbs over him then, swinging a leg over his lap so he can lean down and kiss him. They're both a little damp, not having bothered to dry off properly, and it should be gross but it's not. It’s quite lovely, in fact, the way Donghyuck’s skin sticks to his at every interval, his kisses just as sultry and sweet.

It is a blessing to press inside him once more, to have Donghyuck twine their fingers together as he rides him, to do this without purpose, without reason.

Jaemin loses track of how much time they spend wrapped up in each other, but he’s fully exhausted by the end of it.

“I think I might love you,” Donghyuck says quietly, tenderly, like he’s not bruised and full of Jaemin still.

“You think?” Jaemin echoes, because he doesn’t know what to say.

Donghyuck just keeps looking at him. “Yes. Despite everything, I’m glad that it was you.”

Somehow, Jaemin feels like he’s a lot more certain than he’s letting on. Or maybe not. Maybe, Donghyuck is just being Donghyuck, brave, foolish Donghyuck, who tells Jaemin how he’s feeling even when he doesn’t know how to articulate it properly. Jaemin likes that about him. Jaemin can think of a million things he more than likes about him.

I love you too, Jaemin thinks. I’m glad that this happened to us too, and only because it was you. “Sleep in here tonight,” he says instead, “Please.”

Donghyuck smiles like it’s the right thing to say. “Okay.”

Donghyuck is the one who gets out of bed to turn off the lamp, and he crawls back by the light of the fireplace. Jaemin’s eyes readjust to the hazy dark, and he lifts an arm so Donghyuck can slip under it, resting his head against Jaemin’s chest.

In the comforting quiet, Donghyuck whispers. “I can hear your heart beating.”

“Look after it for me. Tell me if it stops.”

Donghyuck readjusts himself, pressing closer to the center of Jaemin’s chest, his palm coming up to rest right next to it. Jaemin slides a hand up his bare back, gently dragging over the bumps of his spine.

And together, for the first time, they sleep.

♕

When Jaemin wakes up in the morning it is obscenely hot underneath the covers. Donghyuck is still sleeping next to him, his pretty face smoothed over and serene. Jaemin had thought maybe he’d dreamed this last part: that Donghyuck wanted to stay, that Donghyuck fell asleep in his arms. He reaches a hand out to touch his cheek, only to find that he’s burning up. Donghyuck runs hot anyway, but this—it feels wrong.

Donghyuck stirs then, his hand coming up to keep Jaemin’s hand on his face. “Morning.” he murmurs.

“Morning, baby,” Jaemin murmurs back, “I think you have a fever.”

“I’m always hot.”

“I know but—”

“And starving,” Donghyuck says, he rolls over and stretches, the blanket falling to reveal his shirtless torso. “Can we have breakfast here today?”

“Sure. I’ll call up.”

“Thank you. And Jaemin—” He taps his cheek, square between the moles, and Jaemin crawls back into bed to kiss him there.

When the food arrives, Donghyuck gets all of three bites in before he turns pale. His eyes dart around the room, and before Jaemin can say anything he’s walking over to the vase and retching into the glass. Jaemin winces, but abandons the meal to tend to him anyway. Donghyuck wipes the drool off the side of his mouth and stays there, resting his cheek against the vase like it’ll cool him down. He looks wan in the morning light, sweat beading on his forehead and upper lip. Jaemin has never seen him like this, and it frightens him so.

“Alright...maybe there is something wrong with me.”

“Can you stand?”

“Yes,” Donghyuck says, like it’s a ridiculous suggestion. He takes the hand Jaemin holds out to him, but his knees buckle, and he slumps forward into his chest. “Never mind. Everything is making me nauseous.” He laughs, though Jaemin fails to see the humor in the situation.

“I’m going to call the physician.”

This time, Donghyuck just nods.

♕

Jaemin doesn’t see Donghyuck for the rest of the day. The maids help him back into bed when the physician arrives, and Jaemin is barred from privacy in his own bedroom. He’s distressed enough that Donghyuck asks him to calm down with his head still in a metal bucket, and it is then that Jaemin decides he’d be better off busying himself with something else for the day.

He’s in the study hunched over paperwork when a soft knock sounds on the door. He looks up, and Donghyuck waves at him from the doorway. He’s fully dressed, in black silk and fitted pants, looking perfectly healthy and relaxed as he ducks inside.

“Donghyuck,” Jaemin says.

“Jaemin.” He walks into the main room, and Jaemin rises to meet him halfway.

“Should you be out of bed?”

Donghyuck waves him off. “I feel fine.”

“Are you sure? What did the doctor say?”

“That I was a little dehydrated from all the…you know,” Donghyuck says. “And, um, no more hot springs. It’s bad for the baby.”

Jaemin sighs with relief. “Oh. Good. Great.” He pauses. “Excuse me?”

Donghyuck regards him with that same, masterful bored stare. “Jaemin. I'm pregnant.”

Jaemin’s heart all but stops in his chest. “What?”

“We’re having a baby. A royal one. It’s why I've been feeling so ill.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

“We’re having a baby,” Jaemin says. He squeezes Donghyuck into a hug, picking him up and spinning him around in an attempt to diffuse the sudden swirl of emotion in his chest. “Goodness…Donghyuck, we’re having a baby.”

“Careful,” Donghyuck laughs. “Are you going to keep repeating it?”

“How long…how?”

“Ten to twelve weeks? I had a feeling but I wasn't sure…you didn’t think all our hard work was for nothing, did you?”

Jaemin sets him down. “I—well—”

Suddenly, several things click into place—Donghyuck’s seemingly sudden mood swings, the subtle tantalizing change in his scent. The smell of a carrying omega.

“Isn’t it so strange? That I have a person growing inside me? I wonder what it’ll be like to have a bump. Can you picture it?” He breaks away from Jaemin and walks up to the mirror in the corner of the room, turning sideways like he’s imagining. “I think I might be sort of cute, actually,” he murmurs.

Jaemin joins him. He rests his chin on Donghyuck’s shoulder and peers at their reflections in the polished glass. “I'm going to be a father.”

“Yes you are,” Donghyuck says. He takes Jaemin’s hands and places them on his stomach. Jaemin buries his face in his neck and holds him close, and they stand in silence for a bit, Donghyuck's scent soothing even as terror rises up inside him.

“Why do you look so glum?”

“Do I?”

Donghyuck turns in his arms, cups his face only to kiss the furrow between his eyebrows. “Yes, darling. You do.”

“I don't want to share the two of you with them.”

Donghyuck laughs. His hands are so warm. “You’re going to have to.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

“No. Just you,” Donghyuck says, “And it will stay that way until you announce it to the court tomorrow afternoon.”

“Of course. Aren’t you scared?”

“Terrified,” Donghyuck confirms, “but it feels less scary with you.”

There’s a stray eyelash on Donghyuck’s cheek, and Jaemin reaches up to brush it away with his thumb, only to let his hand linger out of indulgence. He smooths over it once more when he murmurs, “Hey, I guess this means you get to go home soon, doesn’t it?”

Donghyuck pauses, like it takes him a while to remember what Jaemin is alluding to. “Oh, yes. The plan.”

“Well I was a different person when we first made the plan. I would like to think we were both different people when we made the plan.”

“And we are different people now,” Donghyuck agrees. “Jaemin. Where are you going with this?”

“Would it be terrible of me to say I want you to stay, even knowing it would make you miserable?”

“A little,” Donghyuck looks at him with his glittering eyes and whispers, “Say it anyway.”

So Jaemin does, and Donghyuck doesn’t reply, but he tilts his head to kiss him, like it is an answer which words cannot provide, and Jaemin kisses him back, holds him close, and understands it anyway.

♕

Naturally, the royal court is ecstatic. If Jaemin and Donghyuck's lives were not their own before, they become even less so now that everyone knows. It all happens rather rapidly. In the months that follow Donghyuck quickly develops a bump that becomes impossible to hide under his usual clothes, so he traipses around the castle in the most adorable robes. His moods swing, he sleeps all day, he steals Jaemin’s dirty laundry for his nest, and he complains.

He complains so much.

“Have I ever told you how ugly the upholstery is in here?”

About things that are completely unprecedented.

“...No. Since when have you cared about upholstery?”

“Since today,” He picks up another cushion, throws it on the bed, and then decides he doesn’t really like the way it looks. “That chair you’re sitting on is hideous. Promise me you’ll have it changed. Actually—Perhaps I should do that myself. I’ll set up a meeting and everything.”

He’s nesting again, this time in Jaemin’s bedroom while he watches his extremely pregnant omega flutter about, not necessarily anxious, but deliberate in his choosing all the same. He sighs when he drops a stray pillow, and stands staring at it like he’s contemplating if bending down is worth the trouble. Before he can decide, Jaemin is at his side. Donghyuck grabs him by the arm immediately.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping?” He picks up the pillow and holds it out to Donghyuck, who just stares at Jaemin like he’s lost it. His marbles, that is. “Put that back.”

“But—”

“Put it back. I can get it myself.”

Jaemin drops the pillow.

He watches as Donghyuck struggles to pick it up again. Donghyuck must feel his gaze, because he huffs, “Can you go sit down? I can't do anything with you looming over me like that.”

“I’m just standing here.”

“Exactly. Looming. Now go sit down.”

Jaemin indulges him and returns to his reading. In Donghyuck’s defense, he does manage to pick it up eventually, but soon enough he’s returning to Jaemin’s direct line of vision. He tugs on Jaemin’s coat sleeve. “May I have this?”

Jaemin wordlessly shrugs it off and gives it to him. It must be the final essential piece, because Donghyuck lowers himself onto the bed after he places it, and is quiet for a while before—

“Jaemin, honey. Come here.”

He is impossible. Jaemin can’t help but be endeared by it.

“I thought you didn’t like my looming.”

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck whines, “Please.”

“Please,” Jaemin echoes, “You must really require my assistance. Who are you and what have you done with my Donghyuck?”

“Shut up,” Donghyuck says, but there’s no bite behind it. As soon as Jaemin climbs in Donghyuck puts half his body weight onto him, tipping his head into his neck so he can nose at Jaemin’s scent gland.

“My back hurts, and my feet hurt, and the future king is playing footsie with my insides.”

Jaemin looks down and lifts his hand to touch, pausing halfway to Donghyuck’s round belly.

“Can I?”

“He is yours as much as he is mine.” Donghyuck takes his hand and places it down, right under his ribcage. Jaemin holds his breath until he feels it.

Again, and then again.

Donghyuck lets out a winded breath. “He hates me, I think.”

“He is so lively,” Jaemin says, awestruck. Donghyuck laughs, and the tiny motion flutters underneath Jaemin’s palm once more.

“That’s one way to put it, yes.”

“How long until we can meet him, do you think?”

“Not long,” Donghyuck says, softly. He places his hand over Jaemin’s, strokes his thumb over his knuckles. “Not long at all.”

“We’ll get through it together. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it so.”

“I know you will,” Donghyuck says. He readjusts himself. “I thought it would be easy, you know? Just—having the baby and moving on with my life. Unfortunately I’ve grown kind of attached to him, among other things.”

“Other things?”

“Other people,” Donghyuck says, “The cooks, the gardener. Renjun. Chenle. You.”

“Chenle? That really is unfortunate.”

Donghyuck laughs at that, and then is immediately silenced when it makes the baby kick again.

“Ugh,” he sighs, “I can't believe I let you do this to me.”

He puts a hand on Jaemin’s thigh to help himself shuffle up a little more, and Jaemin leans back onto the pillows so he has more room to maneuver. Donghyuck ends up where he always does, curled onto his side, with his head on his shoulder.

“Comfy?” Jaemin asks. Donghyuck hums in response, already too worn out to talk much. Jaemin senses that he’ll be falling asleep again soon. He looks so cozy and cute that Jaemin feels inclined to kiss the top of his head. Donghyuck whines even though Jaemin knows he loves it. “Don’t be gross.”

“Not my fault you’re so cute.”

“Go to hell.”

“I love you.”

That shuts Donghyuck up, if only for a minute. “Wow,” Donghyuck says. “That’s the first time you've said it out loud. Feels nice.”

“What—I say it. I say it all the time.”

“You say it,” Donghyuck says quietly. His eyes are already slipping shut. “You never say it.”

Jaemin considers himself a man of action rather than words. Donghyuck loves words. Sweet nothings, wild nothings, words said with feeling and without. Jaemin thinks it should all be the same. “You’re being unfair.”

“I love you too,” Donghyuck says. When he lifts his head long enough to press a lingering, quiet kiss against Jaemin’s pout, his scent is softer than ever. Content. Jaemin will do everything in his power to ensure he stays that way. He rubs a hand into Donghyuck’s lower back in an attempt to soothe the ache when he settles back down, listening as his breaths get deeper and slower.

They’ll still be in the middle of another long winter when the baby comes, but Jaemin thinks it won’t be so bad, not with Donghyuck here to thaw it.

It is still difficult to put it into words, but each day feels like a promise. A promise to laugh more, to talk more, to someday stroll Ilio’s beaches with their little one between them. Jaemin used to have a hard time finding things to look forward to, but with Donghyuck his joy feels endless. He laughs quietly to himself when Donghyuck starts to snore, interrupting his thoughts, and whispers an ‘I love you’ one more time for good measure.