As Prince, the number of expectations about who he had to be and what he had to do, was extensive. Ever since he was a boy he was taught line by line, lesson by lesson, what it meant to be a member of the royal family. As a young boy, it mostly meant language and etiquette classes before shifting to horse riding lessons and strategy as he grew. Minseok would be the next Emperor, but even without that pressure, Minho felt the same judging eyes on himself. He wore from what garments were brought to him by the quartermaster, he made appearances where he was told to, and he smiled for the reporters when he was seen outside of the Castle walls. He behaved like being back at the Castle in all the lavish comfort was where he was meant to be, where he wanted to be even.

            Except, he was living a total lie. Minho would stand on his balcony, staring out over the thick clouds and tall treetops, to the crystal clear blue water of the sea on the horizon, and think of the sweet man he had left behind. He had first met Jinki as a young boy, catching his gaze across the table during one of the many council meetings. Jinki was standing behind his father, just to the right of the Emperor. It was after that he had leaned over to his older brother and asked who he was, finding out he was the son of an ancient family tied to his own, charged with protecting the ancient city of Mugunghwa. As long as there had been a Choi on the throne as Emperor, there had been a Lee in charge of protecting the barrier. 

            Jinki was just as well educated as himself, but he had seen more of the world outside of Mugunghwa. He had sailed past the sharp rocks of the far bay, across the water to the ports on the other side. He had driven through the thick forest of citrus trees, until returning weeks later with supplies and food they hadn’t mastered producing just yet. Minho had only ever known Mugunghwa and its surrounding farmland.

            Falling in love with Jinki hadn’t been his intention. It started out simple and innocent enough, two young boys exploring their worlds together. Minho would bring Jinki books from the royal library while the older boy taught him fighting techniques the man of arms refused to do. Jinki would pick an orange from a tree, climbing up to the very top stating they were the best, before handing him half of it. Their first kiss was against one of those same trees, lips sweet and tangy from the fresh fruit, fingers slightly sticky against cheeks and curled in robes. The older they both grew, their responsibilities also did too. Their time together dwindled, no longer were they able to run through the flower fields laughing in the mid-afternoon sun.  Jinki was the eldest son of his family, destined to take over from his Father. Unlike the Emperor, it wasn’t passed down by death. 

            Jinki took the mantle on his 25th birthday, letting his father enjoy his golden years with his Wife. That had been almost a year ago, the day marked by falling white and pink flower petals, laying so brightly against Jinki’s dark long hair. While Minho saw more of him inside of the Castle than he ever did before, it was always on official business with the Emperor and High Prince, never for him. 

            Minho turned from the large windows, away from the picturesque view, and wrapped his thin robe tighter around himself. He could still smell the soft scent of oranges and vanilla in the room, so vivid he wouldn’t be surprised to turn and see Jinki walking through the door. The robe was made of a rare type of silk from beyond the barrier, a present from the man. Minho had come up from a later dinner with his family and the visiting family of Councilmember Cho to find it sitting on his bed. He hadn’t needed to read the note to know who it came from. The scent alone as he pulled open the ribbon and box top was more than enough. The gold ring Jinki had given him for his eighteenth birthday swung gently as he turned. In a few steps, he picked up the small card, running his thumb over the slight indents of Jinki’s writing. ‘Please don’t forget me when you have to become who they want you to be, Babe.’ 

            His father wanted him to marry a nice girl, settle down and give him more grandchildren much like his older brother had, but that wasn’t him. Everyone had plans for him, places for him to go, but he couldn’t tell where he was going to go without Jinki. Without him beside him, he just felt lost, a lone sailboat out on sea bobbing wherever the water took him. Missing Jinki felt so terribly wrong. Being away from him for so long ached and the brief letters they exchanged, passing glances, none of it was enough. Jinki believing there was even a slight chance that he would forget him made him want to scream in frustration. It seemed the gossip from the Castle had traveled, and the rumor of his upcoming engagement had reached the barrier.

            Minho was supposed to purpose to Seoyoung in a few hours, finish the elaborate planned courtship he had carried out by word of his father’s advisors, but he couldn’t do it. His hand curled around the card, crumbling it in his fist as he finally made a choice. Jinki was the only person to ever make him whole. Home. He had been away from his home for far too long.

            The afternoon sun was slowly setting on the horizon, beautiful colors exploding over the sky like a painter’s paintbrush, when he sprinted from his rooms. The doors slammed against the walls and opened they remained still as he disappeared around the corner.

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            He gripped the reins of the dark horse as it sprinted from the Palace’s main gates, through the main street. People rushed out of the way, abandoning their carts and stalls to reach safety. Questions that he knew were being asked fell on deaf ears as he continued on his way. The dense population of the center of the city began to dwindle as the bright metal and stone of the buildings shifted to green vegetation and natural rock. Until finally, the faint scent of citrus wafted through the air. 

            The main gate leaving out of the barrier was shining bright, marble stone lined with gold, growing larger the quicker he approached. It wasn’t until he crossed the last bridge he noticed the man standing in the middle of it. 

            The sun was so golden and warm around him, casting him in such a beautiful silhouette in the archway of the gate. Minho tugged the reins roughly, the horse coming to a stop a few feet from the man. His hair was messed upon his head, strands falling across his forehead. There was a gun strapped to his thigh, the only tight part on his uniform pants. He was only wearing a plain white shirt, showing that he had been off duty. Which didn’t explain what he was doing here.

            Jinki has his hands on his hips as he asks, brows furrowed as he speaks, “I get an urgent phone call from the Palace, stating Prince Minho is speeding through Market and Main street towards the barrier. What are you-”

            He never gets to finish his question before Minho is grabbing him on either side of his face and kissing him roughly. Jinki’s breath hitches, and it’s a long moment before Minho feels his hands rest on the slight curve of his hips. He still tastes of oranges, so tangy and familiar against him. When he pulls away, Jinki’s eyes are slowly opening, lips slightly pink and kept apart. “I choose you.”

            “What?”

            “You. I choose you, Baby.” It almost feels like he can’t breathe as he pants, probably smiling like a lunatic as he moves his hand into Jinki’s hair to cup his head. “I’m so tired of being someone I’m not.”

            “Minho, I-” Jinki’s eyes flutter with a deep breath and there’s so much emotion lingering in their warm depths when they open again. “Could you live a life out here away from the Palace? It’s all you’ve ever known.” 

            “Everything in my life has been chosen for me, planned and discussed without me present, except you.” Leaning forward, it’s easy to press a kiss to Jinki’s forehead. “Let me come home. I don’t want to have to miss you anymore.” 

            Jinki’s answer comes after his arms come up, wrapping tightly around him. His cheek is squished against Minho’s chest, voice quiet. “Okay. Okay, you’re home.” 

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Many Many moons later…..

            The moon is bright above them, filtering through the treetops giving the soft grass a gentle glow about it. Jinki lands at the base of the tree, a fresh orange picked from the top in his hand. With skilled familiarity, the fruit is quickly peeled. Kneeled before him, Jinki holds a piece out, thumb dripping with the juice. Minho grins, taking the fruit and lapping his tongue against the skin of his thumb. The kiss he received after he’s done chewing starts off soft before it turns hungry, but only for a moment. Their noses bump together as Jinki pulls away, a soft laugh rumbling from his chest. “I love you.”

            Ever since he was 15, the taste of an orange made him think of a kiss from Jinki. Now, so many years later, many things had changed. Now the taste reminded him of home, of curling up with Jinki in front of their fireplace, sitting beside him in the truck on the way for supplies, and the slight grin as they boarded a ship to head out across the sea. It used to make him miss Jinki, but he never had the chance to miss him now, not really.

            He didn’t mind it, not really. A kiss is stolen before the sentiment is returned as a whisper against the man’s lips. “I love you too.”

            Every day he woke up not sure what they would have to do. Some days choosing Jinki meant being a farmer, climbing ladders, and picking as many fruits from the trees as he could. Every day was unknown and that exhilarated him. No more were the servants bringing him his clothes for the day or telling him his schedule. Most nights they walked into their small home covered in dirt and dust, filthy from the day's events.

           He wouldn't have it any other way.