They were both ten when Jongdae’s father pulled them up by their coat collars and told them to stop. That they needed to be more prince-like, and even though it wasn’t entirely the man’s place, Chanyeol listened to him too, afraid of what it would be like to lose Jongdae as a friend.

For the most part they were well behaved, keeping their mischief to an easily hidden minimum, peek-a-boo in the library while they were searching for books to complete their assignments and stolen smirks across the table as they ate their dinners.

That was how they were until they were eleven. Then Jongdae’s father took him aside and told him about how Chanyeol’s father was going to do the same. He hoped his dad was telling the truth because then at least they’d be able to laugh about it later.

And they did laugh, under the birch tree that sat right below Jongdae’s window. They laughed for hours and did all the things they used to do, all the things they’d grown up doing, but… but, their crowns felt heavier and their smiles weaker.

“Jongdae-yah,” Chanyeol had long dropped the hyung honorific after the nth time Jongdeok had berated him.

It was tempting to pretend Chanyeol hadn’t spoken, and to just focus on grass crown he was weaving in his lap. “Yeah?” he gave in, knowing that there was no easy way to explain away ignoring Chanyeol and it would just make things more awkward.

His friend shuffled a little closer to him under the shade of the tree, legs he’d not quite grown into yet sticking out from under the foliage. “Did your dad speak to you?” Jongdae froze in what he was doing, hands hanging in the air as they pulled a strand of grass across another. They both knew that he had just as Jongdae knew Chanyeol’s dad had spoken to him.

Biting back his strained retort took more effort than Jongdae imagined and he fired back with a warm, “Yeah, yours?” feigning the curiosity in his voice was easier than admitting he knew what questions were coming.

Chanyeol huffed out an unimpressed laugh, and in the corner of his eyes Jongdae could see him tuck his hands underneath his thighs. “What’d he tell you about?” it was an open-ended question and Jongdae knew that Chanyeol’s father had spoken to him about the same thing his father had with him.

In response he gave an empty shrug, resuming his work of knotting his grass and daisy chain together. He’d been thinking of making it just big enough to fit around his wrist but with the way that Chanyeol kept glancing over at him he pulled out a few more shoots to make it just that bit larger. “Growin’ up and stuff, I guess. ‘bout how I’m gonna present soon and about how it’ll help my family choose who I marry. Nothin’ heavy though.” The joke was worth it when Chanyeol barked out a laugh, slapping Jongdae’s thigh in amusement and even doubling over to complete the effect.

Once he’d regained his composure a little and was only hiccoughing instead of out-and-out guffawing Chanyeol managed to respond. “Nothin’ heavy. I’m glad to hear my dad was talkin’ about the same thing your dad was, makes the already light load even lighter.” Wind rustled through Jongdae’s hair when he turned to face Chanyeol, mapping his friend’s face as he tried to formulate a response.

“‘member that time we were on my Pirate Ship talkin’ about gettin’ married to princesses?” he asked, curling his lips into a weak half smile before biting back any tears with a lazy laugh.

Luckily enough Chanyeol wasn’t looking at him, instead his gaze was focussed up at the healthy summertime leaves, a stark contrast with the bare limbs of trees that coloured the Pirate Ship memories. “Yeah,” the agreement carried too much weight for Jongdae’s liking and he felt himself nudging Chanyeol to prompt him to say more. “I wish I hadn’t said that about princesses, I feel like it’s gonna come back and haunt me when I have to marry one.”

Fair enough. It was probably painfully clear that Jongdae was going to bring it up more than necessary in his speech for his friend’s wedding. “My dad told me that depending on how I present I might not have to marry a princess.” Chanyeol didn’t start from where he was sitting as much as Jongdae had expected.

Maybe his father had told him the same thing. He didn’t ask, it was nicer not knowing at this point, with as much information that had been crammed in his head within the last couple of days, Jongdae just wanted to be with his friend on a summer afternoon. No complicated royal stuff.

They sat like that in silence, staring across the estate that stretched before them and the occasional servant walking across the grounds. Jongdae didn’t break the silence when, as he finished his dandelion blanket. Nor did he break it when he carefully slipped the chain over Chanyeol’s hand, carefully so that it didn’t snap when he had to pull it over the expanse of his friend’s ever growing palms. It looked nice there, like a little piece of Jongdae.

Chanyeol’s eyes did that thing where they crinkled at the edges and his mouth twitched for a few moments before growing wider than one would have guessed it could. “For me?” he asked, as if the fact that Jongdae had slipped the flower trinket onto his wrist wasn’t enough confirmation.

“Yeah, all for you.”



“Thanks, Dae,” Chanyeol’s voice was husky with the water welling in his eyes and probably more of the conversation with his father he’d not told Jongdae about.

Jongdae didn’t like thinking that it was probably going to be the last piece of jewellery he could put on Chanyeol — even if it didn’t totally count as jewellery in the first place.

AN//

title: little talks - Of Monsters And Men (bc well i was feeling angsty and nostalgic. what better combo?)

i'm setting up commissions because i am a poor university student and i want to not be poor!

commision me here