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The doors to the upper chambers burst open and in stumble the newlyweds, or, according to Jimin’s mother, two reckless kids who somehow found the most precious thing the world has to offer.
Jeongguk was still a child when he met Jimin, hiding behind his father’s legs as the introductions were made: both heir princes of neighbor territories, their families were adamant about them getting along to keep up the flourishing commercial exchange between their kingdoms. Thus, they would spend almost every afternoon together, playing games they invented or sneaking into Mr. Park’s stunning library to look at fairytale picture books. Somewhere between walks around the royal gardens and evening naps beside the lake, Jeongguk fell in love, exceeding by a few miles his parent’s expectations of a cordial relation. It was, for him, something as natural as the breeze drifting through Jimin's hair. Jimin being himself, and Jeongguk falling in love. A normal course of events, a logical reasoning much easier than anything he’d ever had to solve during his private math lessons with the castle’s tutor.
Jimin had always been beautiful, but as the years widened the lines of his shoulders and shifted his traits ever so slightly, never really losing that youthful glint, he became the most gorgeous prince the land had ever known. Jeongguk’s words, but he knows even the most coldhearted farmer in the depths of the furthest village would agree with him.
Jeongguk knew he wanted to marry him since the day he turned seven, and Jimin was the one to bring his birthday cake to the table, blindingly bright smile on his face as he rambled on about how he was the one to bake it from scratch, and yes, perhaps the kitchen staff helped, but look, look Jeongguk! Your name is written in red berry coulis atop the white icing, in a bubble of hearts. He’d been so excited, and Jeongguk simply knew.
“I’m pretty sure we weren’t supposed to sneak out this early,” Jimin giggles, a hand covering his mouth as his eyes, full of mischief, search Jeongguk’s face.
They’re close, so close still, haven’t been able to let go of each other since the ceremony started. Jeongguk’s fingers are entwined with Jimin’s, and he skims his free hand along the seam of Jimin’s fitted white suit. He didn’t want to get married in black, said this was the happiest day of his life and his clothes ought to look like the doves they released into the sky as their lips sealed their love to eternity. And, well, Jeongguk probably would’ve said yes to anything anyway.
“They won’t notice?” he tries, although he frankly cares very little about being in the good books of people he won’t even remember come tomorrow morning. All he cares about is Jimin, the whole of him down to the very tip of his toes.
“Baby,” Jimin sighs fondly, “they’ll probably notice once they see that the two elevated thrones are empty.” Still, he brings Jeongguk’s body closer, winding both arms around his waist and squeezing.
Jeongguk doesn’t respond. Instead, he nudges Jimin’s nose with his own, and their lips brush together as he murmurs, a rosy blush coloring his cheeks, “Kiss me.”
They’ve kissed hundreds of times before, in every hidden spot of the castle – under the cherry tree with petals in their hair that would always betray their whereabouts, in the kitchens sharing delicacies they weren’t meant to eat, in nooks and corners and never as discreetly as some of the servants would’ve hoped.
But as Jimin takes Jeongguk’s bottom lip into his mouth, pressing their chests together until it feels like they’ll melt into one another, Jeongguk realizes something about tonight feels different. Whether it’s the champagne still buzzing in his veins, making the blood sparkle, or whether it’s the love and affection he holds for Jimin smothering his insides, he doesn’t know.
It’s almost as if every touch was suddenly heightened, and goosebumps raise across his skin when Jimin slides his palm underneath his shirt, caressing his stomach and delicately skimming over a nipple before it travels to his back, nails digging into his shoulderblades.
They’re only just kissing but he feels Jimin everywhere and all around him, the heady scent of his orange blossom fragrance almost intoxicating, and his breath becomes ragged in a matter of seconds. He wants more, needs more, and a small whine escapes him when Jimin bites down on his lip and pulls.
They start to stumble backwards without breaking the kiss until Jeongguk’s legs bump against the bed and they fall together with a whoosh. Rose petals are tickling Jeongguk's neck, and he hastily wipes them off the duvet, mentally cursing the decorators for always going overboard. Jimin’s chiming laughter fills the room, and Jeongguk, despite the nervousness and anticipation twisting his guts, stops to watch and smiles dumbly up at him.
"It's just me, Jeongguk-ah," Jimin says in a soft voice when he notices the extent to which Jeongguk's hands are shaking. He then takes them between his own and kisses each knuckle, so delicately that Jeongguk thinks he might start crying before the night is over. He's pretty sure he's never been loved so gently.
Jeongguk breathes out, jittery. "I know, I just - want it to be perfect."
"And it will be." Jimin looks at him intently, something he does when he wants to make sure he's gotten his point across the many layers of Jeongguk's doubts and insecurities.
Admittedly, this is new territory for both of them: Jimin’s hands grabbing at Jeongguk’s shirt to push it off his chest, dragging his warm fingers all over the newly exposed skin until Jeongguk starts to shiver. Perhaps he should be scared, wary that he won’t be good enough somehow, won’t live up to the expectations Jimin might have of him but as he cranes his neck to steal another heated kiss, he finds that he isn’t.
Jimin loves his body like it’s something worth loving, makes him feel so good about himself that he forgets all about the lonely nights when he used to pull at the skin of his stomach with disgust, turning right to left in front of the mirror until he could practically list out every single flaw there was to see.
“Is this okay?” Jimin keeps asking, and Jeongguk can do nothing but nod fervently and press closer to make him understand how much he wants this.
He lets out another whine when Jimin lines their hips together and grinds, peppering kisses all over Jeongguk's neck and jaw. Sweat starts to pearl on Jeongguk's forehead, plastering strands of hair to the skin and with eager hands, he grapples with Jimin's shirt until he's finally able to get it off. His eyes take in the sight before him - Jimin's pectorals, the faint lines of his abs, the hairs under his navel traveling downwards. "You're - Jimin, you're -," he starts to mumble before he's even aware that his lips are moving, dragging a hand down Jimin's chest in awe.
Jimin seems to understand what he's trying to say, and thankfully saves him from further embarrassment by smiling down at him and dropping another kiss on his mouth. "Tell me what you want, Jeongguk."
With the way Jimin is still grinding their crotches together, it’s a bit difficult to think, yet Jeongguk’s mind still whirrs with the possibilities. He’s tempted to ask Jimin to take him as he pleases, do whatever he wants with him so Jeongguk is left a writhing mess of pleas and moans on the bed. He’s tempted to ask Jimin to help him stop thinking, to fuck him so good and long that he forgets his own name but just the thought of uttering those words makes him blush furiously.
He’s never even done this before but he’s heard people talk about it, has read about how good it feels to be on the receiving end, to simply lie down and let the pleasure overcome you – Jeongguk’s tried imagining it, has even fingered himself before thinking about Jimin being the one to touch him, but he’s convinced nothing could ever compare to the real thing.
Jimin hums teasingly, prompting him to answer, and Jeongguk swallows down his timidity, thinks fuck it. This is his Jimin, the man he’s been in love with for years, the man who knows him better than anyone else, his husband. He throws caution to the wind.
“Want you to – ah,” he gasps when Jimin grabs his cock through the fabric of his silk trousers and squeezes tightly, just under the head. “Jimin, please-”
“Please?”
Jeongguk whimpers. He should’ve known Jimin wouldn’t back down unless he says it. Jimin is more experienced than him, has had both men and women before he and Jeongguk began dating and it transpires in the way he touches Jeongguk with confidence, knowing all of his weak spots despite it being their first time together. He’s so much to take in, and he makes Jeongguk breathless.
“Please, please, Jimin,” is all he manages to choke out, biting down on his lip to keep his embarrassing moans to a minimum. He was never that loud when touching himself, but Jimin’s hands on his body bring a fever to his brain that’s entirely new to him, and he keeps squirming on the sheets, whines turning needy.
Jimin chuckles gently above him, bites his neck playfully and then kisses the mark. “If only the people knew how much their prince likes to beg.”
Jeongguk keens at the words and arches into Jimin’s touch. “Want you to – make me come, please,” he rushes out, mouth falling open in a silent moan when Jimin tugs the last of his clothes down and goes back to jerking him off. The grip is so distinctly Jimin – gentle yet strong at the same time, a contrast of soft and rough, and when he presses his thumb against the tip, Jeongguk swears that he sees exploding stars on the back of his eyelids.
“Yeah?” Jimin breathes. “Are you gonna be good, baby?”
He slows down the pace when he notices that Jeongguk isn’t answering, too busy trying to catch his breath. Jeongguk immediately whines in protest, hips kicking up instinctively to chase any semblance of friction.
“Yes, yes, I’ll be good, Jimin, please,” he mumbles, over and over to the point where the words barely make sense anymore. “’m always good, please, please, don’t stop-”
“Shh,” Jimin silences him with a kiss, and Jeongguk struggles to keep up, mind already slipping into that blissful state where the world fades away and all that remains is Jimin – his tender voice commanding him, his warm breath, the taste of his mouth. “I know you are. My beautiful, gorgeous prince.”
The praise is sugary sweet to Jeongguk’s ears. He drinks it up, a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes remain closed. Beside his incessant wiggling, he hasn’t moved much, and he’s grateful Jimin has always understood his needs without him having to talk.
He feels a pair of hands grab his waist and then Jimin is turning him over and pushing him up the bed. Jeongguk can’t help but rut against the sheets a few times, before Jimin catches on and tuts disapprovingly. He presses a hand on his hips to stop them from moving, keeping them still even when Jeongguk protests.
Despite his whining, he loves that Jimin is naturally taking control. It helps clear out the mess of thoughts in his head, chases the doubts away so he can focus solely on the hot and wet sensation of Jimin’s tongue trailing down his back until it stops just above his ass.
He realizes what’s about to happen when Jimin spreads his cheeks open, and almost chokes on his next inhale. “J-Jimin-”
“It’s alright, baby. Let me make you feel good,” Jimin speaks softly as he leaves open-mouthed kisses all over his thighs. His nails dig into the soft flesh and Jeongguk whimpers at the thought of seeing the marks tomorrow, remnants of their night spent together. He imagines pressing his fingers into each one as Jimin lays asleep next to him, gorgeous as ever under the dimmed lights.
Slowly, Jeongguk hikes one leg up to give Jimin better access. He’s still a bit unsure how to move, where to position himself, but Jimin guides him with kind touches, murmurs praise every few seconds and it’s almost overwhelming, how good he can make Jeongguk feel with a single word or gesture. It’s like he knows his body by heart, every edge and crevice, and he makes sure to leave hickeys on each spot that has Jeongguk shiver with sensitivity.
At the first touch of Jimin’s tongue against his hole, he jumps.
An embarrassed flush instantly spreads to his neck, but then he hears Jimin’s giggle and eventually, he breathes out a laugh himself.
“It’s okay, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin reassures him, caressing the bottom of his back soothingly. “Just relax and trust me. Can you do that for me?”
Jeongguk nods wordlessly and forces his muscles to untense. He grabs a fistful of the sheets to keep himself tethered somehow, and then nods again, signaling to Jimin that he can continue. He closes his eyes and concentrates on each distinct sensation.
Jimin’s left hand still gripping his thigh – he’s always been particularly sensitive there. Jimin’s right hand keeping his cheeks open. Jimin’s mouth, pressing and licking and sucking at him, how unfair it is that he’s so good at this, and before he knows it, Jeongguk is moaning loudly and grinding against the surface of the bed.
This time, Jimin doesn’t stop him, just goes on eating him out and Jeongguk wants to tell him to slow down because he can sense that he’s about to come embarrassingly soon, all too familiar with the tingling sensation spreading through his groin, but he’s just about lost the ability to speak. All he can do is mumble Jimin’s name between whines and desperate pleas, making a mess of their expensive sheets as drool escapes his open mouth.
When Jimin slides a finger inside next to his tongue, Jeongguk lets out a cry that he’s sure even the guests below can hear. He’s way past caring, though, and it takes him some time to realize that he’s the one whispering love you, love you, love you so much under his breath as Jimin keeps up his ministrations, soon creating a rhythm between the in-and-out movement of his tongue and finger.
Jeongguk comes a minute later with a gasp, and he bites down on the pillow to stop himself from screaming. Pleasure washes over him in waves, ears ringing and hips moving of their own accord to chase the addicting feeling. If Jimin’s noticed, he doesn’t stop, and it’s not until Jeongguk is squirming from overstimulation that he surfaces up.
His mouth is red and shiny with spit, and his hair is a complete mess. He wipes at his lips with a thumb and climbs back up Jeongguk’s body until they’re pressed together, chest to back.
Jeongguk cranes his neck so they can kiss and although the angle is a tad uncomfortable for him, he doesn’t mind. Right now, there’s nothing that could make him stop kissing Jimin – not when he’s still sensitive all over, not when he’s one step away from crying because of how precious and loved he feels.
And it’s all because of the man in front of him, the man that’s been keeping his heart safe for over a decade, the man he just got married to.
“Love you,” he finally says properly.
Jimin grins down at him and pecks him once, twice, thrice, until Jeongguk is giggling, chest tight with the kind of utter joy he never thought he’d get to feel one day.
“Love you too.”
Just then, he remembers that Jimin is still hard, and he shifts around, hand going down to at least jerk him off before Jimin catches his wrist and stops him.
“But you’re-” he begins to protest.
“It’s okay,” Jimin interrupts him in a soft voice. “It’s okay, baby. We have all night. No rush, okay?” A kiss on his cheek. “I wanna know how you’re feeling first.”
Jeongguk pauses to catch his breath, and maybe gather his thoughts since the aftermath of what is definitely the best orgasm he’s ever had has kind of turned his brain into mush. Jimin peppers sweet kisses all over his face as he waits, fingers threading through Jeongguk’s hair and scratching at the scalp in a way that is both relaxing and extremely distracting.
Eventually, Jeongguk’s mind wanders to the vows they pronounced earlier that night, hands clasped together as they both tried not to cry or stutter through it. Jeongguk is usually one to get terribly nervous in front of crowds, but once he locked eyes with the man he’d been in love with before he even understood the concept of love, the nervousness faded away and talking became the easiest thing he ever had to do.
They made promises, of course: promises of love, promises to cherish in war and peace, promises to only have eyes for one another and until the end of forever. But mostly, they declared their devotion as the world stood still, watching them – two princes, for once nothing more than two men in love.
Jeongguk smiles fondly to himself, and Jimin nudges him, curious. His eyes almost sparkle under the crystal chandelier that illuminates the chambers. “What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“We’re married,” Jeongguk simply blurts out.
Jimin purses his lips to hold back a laugh. “Yes, honey. We are.”
“You’re my husband. I’m your husband.”
Again, “Yes, honey. I know.”
Jeongguk seems to marvel at the thought for a while, and then he frowns. “Do you think we can get pancakes from the kitchens without anyone seeing us?”
This time, Jimin bursts out laughing, head dropping down on Jeongguk’s chest as he wonders how he managed to find the dorkiest prince to love.