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The teacup clinks lightly as Jongin sets it on its matching saucer. He straightens the teaspoon, smoothes the edge of the white cloth napkin and turns to fetch the teapot.
He could leave all this to the servants, but he doesn’t, ever. He wants to do it himself. Choose the tea and pick the set and make the table look nice.
The teapot has just been put on the table when the tall, wooden doors of the solar open. Jongin looks up, a smile already curving his lips.
Minseok enters the room, walking towards him with a gentle smile of his own. He looks striking in his princely garb, black trousers and dark blue jerkin, a white shirt underneath.
“Jongin,” he says and Jongin goes to him, meets him halfway, holds up his hand as Minseok reaches for it, like always, and brings it to his lips, like always, placing a delicate kiss on the back of his fingers.
It makes Jongin’s heart flip in his chest, every time, in the same way it did the first, when they met, many months ago.
Jongin had been standing in the Great Hall, his hands clasped tight before him, nervously waiting for his betrothed, the prince from the unforgiving North, a stranger. Jongin had never seen him before, knew next to nothing of him, the only thing he had heard had been how good this marriage would be, how beneficial, how it would connect their two kingdoms, the South and the North, a union never seen before in history.
The wait had seemed to last forever, Jongin’s head ringing with what ifs, and then the set of huge carved doors had opened to reveal Minseok and Jongin had felt his breath stop. His eyes had remained fixed on Minseok as the northern prince had made his way towards him, elegant and poised, the very manifestation of royal, but his eyes were bright, and fixed on Jongin in return.
Minseok had stopped before him, he’d greeted him in the pleasant, soft voice of his Jongin has come to love, and Jongin had felt his heart make a flip when Minseok had reached for his hand and, bowing, had touched his lips to his knuckles, holding it gently in his own.
Minseok’s skin had felt cool to the touch, but the kiss had effused Jongin’s chest with unspeakable warmth, and it had taken a moment for Jongin to find his voice again, to finally remember himself and greet Minseok properly. Minseok told him once, later, that his skin had been as warm as sand under the Southern sun, that he had never felt anything like it, still hasn’t.
They’ve come a long way since then, getting to know each other in the gentle, quiet moments they manage to carve out their duties and responsibilities, precious hours all to themselves that Jongin keeps close to his heart. Minseok has revealed himself to be nothing like what Jongin could have ever imagined, and it had been all too easy to fall for him.
And now they’re here, only one day before their wedding.
They sit down and Jongin pours the tea. They spend these moments talking. Just talking, talking, talking. Of each other, of their days, of their kingdoms. Of anything. Talking and listening.
Jongin gets lost in it. Gets especially lost in watching Minseok speak and smile and laugh. They look so different, Minseok with his pale skin and snow white hair and dark, dark blue eyes, Jongin with his sun kissed skin and golden hair and honey glazed eyes.
They’re so different, from two completely different worlds, and yet they fit. They fit so well, and so effortlessly. They create their own world.
Minseok finishes his tea and sets down his cup. He smiles at Jongin. “I have something for you.”
Helplessly, a smile breaks onto Jongin’s face too. Minseok always brings him something, small gifts he makes himself, carved out of perennial ice, a rare and priceless material that never melts, only found in the North. A snow crystal shaped brooch one day, a swan figurine another, a lotus flower in full bloom and many, many other things. They’re all lovely and Jongin cherishes each and every one of them, loves to show them off.
Minseok puts a small black box on the table and slides it towards Jongin. Jongin takes it, sweet anticipation brewing under his skin. He carefully lifts the lid and what he sees inside takes his breath away.
There, sitting on a plush blue silk cushion, is a ring made of perennial ice. A thin, sleek band with a single, small gemstone like oval in the center.
Jongin stares at it, all words lost on his tongue.
“Tomorrow we’ll wear matching ones, but I wanted you to have this, still.” Minseok says, watching him. “Making it took longer than I expected,” he chuckles softly.
“It’s…” Jongin breathes, blinking down at the gift. “It’s beautiful,” he looks at Minseok. “Minseok…”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it.” Jongin takes the ring out of the box and carefully slips it on. It’s cool against his finger, and beautiful. Beautiful, shining blueish in the afternoon light. “I will never take it off.”
Minseok’s smile softens. “I’m glad.”
They help themselves to more tea and continue their conversations, but Jongin is distracted, his eyes falling to the ice ring glinting on his finger time and time again. Minseok notices, of course, smiling secretly as he watches, and the next time Jongin gets lost in staring, he slides his hand across the table and laces their fingers together. It hits Jongin like a flood then, the warmth.
The sun is low in the sky when Minseok stands up to leave and like always, Jongin feels his heart ache pitifully.
Minseok rounds the table, but instead of taking Jongin’s hand to give it his usual parting kiss, he cradles Jongin’s face with one hand and delicately tilts it up before leaning down to press their lips together.
The kiss is chaste, gentle, pulling a soft stunned breath out of Jongin’s mouth.
Their first kiss.
It lasts but a moment, Minseok pulling away slowly, lips parting to say goodbye, but Jongin reaches for him again, quick, bringing a hand to his cheek and pulling him back to his mouth.
This time their lips slot together, the kiss turning heavier, sweeter as Jongin gets a taste of Minseok, but still chaste, still gentle.
It lasts longer too, and Jongin’s mouth is left tingling when Minseok pulls away again, pressing their foreheads together.
His breath fans warmly over Jongin’s skin.
“Tomorrow,” he says, looking into Jongin’s eyes, and Jongin’s chest swells, his heart surges, happy, happy, happy.
“Tomorrow,” Jongin whispers back.
Minseok strokes his thumb over Jongin’s cheek, once, slowly, and then lets go. He takes Jongin’s hand, presses a kiss to his knuckles, straightens up and turns to leave.
Jongin watches him go, the coolness of Minseok’s mouth lingering on his lips, contrasting with the brand it had burned there, and then looks down at his hand, at the ring.
Tomorrow they will be united forever.