i.

“The stars came out to play tonight.”

A soft smile emerged on Kibum’s face at his own musings, decorating the lips that were ever arranged in a slight, perpetual pout. The words dripped off his tongue slow and calm, reverberating in their relaxed pace. Time did not seem to move, and the stars seemed to play. The faint lights shone and twinkled in the black of the night sky, no longer veiled in clouds as spring shifted into summer, and warm air filled Jinki’s lungs as he shifted closer.

Kibum had chosen quite a dangerous position to sit in; he was no less than straddling the window pane, one leg settled on the cushion beside Jinki, the other left to dangle outside and brush against the vines on the castle wall. It was a gamble, but Kibum insisted; he wanted to look out at the night sky. He could have fallen. The guards could have seen. Kibum could have cared. (He did not.)

“It will be summer again, soon,” Jinki softly hummed.

“My favorite time of year,” was Kibum’s simple response, low and quiet.

Jinki followed the rhythm of the world outside when he leaned in closer, basking in Kibum’s presence. The view from the palace window, the stars and summer moonlight一they only painted the other man in a soft glow as he closed the distance between them gently. Jinki melted into his touch like he always did, pliant and off his guard, tasting the cherry wine in lover’s mouth and memorizing the piquant notes of the alcohol as they touched his own lips.

Kibum looked down when they pulled away, interlocking their hands on his lap. Jinki took in the sight of their exposed wrists, smiling softly at how they fit together. Kibum’s skin was almost milky, soft in a way that Jinki never expected them to be when they first met. Whenever Jinki saw him, Kibum was almost always covered in paint, sleeves rolled up to his elbows while Jinki sat with his family on the other side of the canvas. It feels almost unreal to see the painter like this, hands and nails clear of any color or stray pigment, looking more like a painting than simply the pair of hands that could create one.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Jinki asked, whispered in a breath of air, too in awe for anything else.

“That would be you, Your Highness,” Kibum gave him in return, brushing the pad of his thumb over the prince’s knuckles before leaning in to kiss him once more.

Jinki’s breath hitched when Kibum’s thumb caught the ring on his finger, stones set in the silver band glinting under the moonlight. He brushed it off just as quickly as it had happened, eagerly kissing Kibum back, careful not to push the other man any further out of the window than he already was.

“Kibum,” Jinki breathed out between kisses, “move away from there. Kiss me properly.”

Kibum gladly obliged, nimbly swinging his leg back into the room and expertly taking Jinki into his arms. Neither one of them broke their hold on each other as Jinki pulled him onto the bed, letting the younger man get on top of him and kiss him senseless, make him dizzy with passion like he was way up in the sky despite just a humble glass of cherry wine shared between them from earlier in the evening. Kibum’s lips were stained red with the liquid, and Jinki cannot think anything else except beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. It feels simultaneously like years and mere seconds that they’ve been together, seen each other like this. Jinki knows that it’s the former, but every single night always feels so welcoming, so new.

“Kibum.” Jinki’s breath starts to get shallow as Kibum kisses down his neck and jaw, leaving light touches of hands and breath and lips behind his earlobe. It makes Jinki shudder, and part of him cannot let go of the feeling, does not want to. But he brings a hand up to his lover’s cheek at a moment’s notice, willing himself to slow down his own breathing as Kibum’s kisses grew hungrier by the second. “Kibum, stop.”

“Alright,” the painter exhaled, rendered obedient at the simple command, touches becoming softer along with his gaze. “Is everything alright? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Jinki whispered, smiling as Kibum moved to lay beside him, a pair of their hands still interlocked. “I’m just tired.”

“Tell me...” Kibum fluttered his eyelashes at the furrow that began to appear on Jinki’s brow, before clarifying, “tell me about your day, darling.”

Jinki moved in closer at the pet name, eager to feel Kibum’s breath on his skin. “I went out to ride, practice archery. The same old things. They have worn me out.”

“I wish I could be with you, when you do these... things,” Kibum utters, running a hand through the length of Jinki’s black locks. “It would make a beautiful scene. They would like it, no?”

“Who? What do you mean?” 

“Your family would adore it,” Kibum started, the glint of residual moonlight reflected in dark brown eyes. “A portrait of their beloved prince, glowing under the sun, bow and arrow raised to the sky. I would sit by a tree to watch you, imprint the sight on my mind before I do the same on the blank canvas, and then I shall wonder how lucky I must have been to have your likeness under my fingertips.”

Jinki felt his heart race at those very words, always so taken by the love-laced poems that so often dripped from his lover’s lips. They were beautiful as sin, much sweeter than the wine. “You have the real me under your fingertips, Kibum.”

“And still I find myself wanting more,” Kibum paused, bringing their hands up to place a kiss on Jinki’s knuckles before adding, “my prince.”

They fell into silence at the action, a quiet but looming sense of understanding hanging in the wind. Jinki’s view of the other man was obscured by their hands lying between them, his own cradled in Kibum’s, and the simple, silver band on his finger in full view. His white curtains were tinted blue with moonlight, swaying from the feather-light touch of warm air, and it was heavy, but still safe. Many things between them were unsure, but Jinki knows that when he and Kibum are alone, they would keep each other safe.

“How long before you have to go?” Jinki asks, timid.

“Don’t fret, darling,” Kibum supplies, squeezing his hand. “We have time. I will stay until you fall asleep, just like always.”

“And when will I see you again?” Jinki whispers.

“Whenever time permits. You know that.”

“But you will be coming to the palace, yes? When?”

“Tomorrow,” Kibum said simply, bringing the prince closer to lean into his chest. “For Taemin.”

Jinki hummed, taking in a sharp breath at the mention of the name. For Taemin. ”Painting lesson?”

“Yes,” Kibum affirmed. “Later in the week as well, your mother一forgive me, the Queen一she wants a portrait done. You will see me then.”

“I will.”

Jinki understands the silent plight they had fallen into when they floated back into the quietness of the room. The things they had talked about were often matters that hung unacknowledged between them, hardly mattering when they were alone and lost in each other and only the sound of Kibum’s heartbeat rang in Jinki’s ears. Taemin. The name brought about an itch that they had tried to ignore whenever circumstance allowed, an ache that threatened the ring on Jinki’s finger to age and tarnish and stain his knuckles dark green.

“Something is troubling you,” Jinki began, surprised by the steadiness in his own voice. “Tell me.”

Kibum smiled softly at that, in rhythm with the movement of his palm on the other man’s cheek. “I only wish I understood more of this. Us. You.”

“In which sense?”

“Taemin.” Kibum stuttered it out, unsure but desperate not to seem so. “He is… you know what he is, to you.”

“I… yes,” Jinki trails off.

“He is a good person...” Kibum starts, and Jinki can hear his heart picking up the pace through his chest. “He is not unkind, nor arrogant. Nor prideful, even一not an ounce. I… I simply do not wish to hurt him, Jinki.”

Jinki took in the declaration, burying his head further into his lover’s chest at the words. They were all true, and yet the prince willed himself not to succumb to the tears that prickled at his eyes. He held Kibum’s hand tighter when he spoke again, trying to grasp more warmth into the cold metal resting on his finger.

“Kibum… you know that we may stop this at any time if it is a burden on your conscience, yes?”

Kibum pulls him closer, his hold reassuring in contrast to the scared look that Jinki knows is evident in his own features. The painter rubs circles onto his back, gentle and slow with those smooth and skilled hands of his, drawing mindless portraits onto his clothed skin to lull him back into safety.

“I trust you, darling,” Kibum says, muffled into dark locks as Jinki nuzzled into the crook of his neck “I know you would not want to hurt him, either. There are simply some things I do not yet completely understand… but I will come to know them in time. Whenever you are ready to tell me.”

“Thank you.” Jinki latched onto him tighter, letting himself be enveloped in his lover’s embrace. Safe from the rest of the world, whenever they were allowed it.

“Of course, my prince,” Kibum cooed, placing a kiss on his forehead as the man in his arms drifted off into sleep. “Sleep tight.”

Kibum waited for Jinki to fall into peaceful slumber, before untangling their intertwined limbs and running off into the night, bidding the prince goodbye with a feather-light kiss on their wine-stained lips

ii.

“Good morning.”

Jinki took in the sight before him, grinning sheepishly as he stood in the other man’s doorway. The greeting irked him in a way一foreboding but still gentle一and it only served to deepen the furrow in Jinki’s brow that had been there since he woke up in his own bedroom, puzzled at the appearance of a new cordial glass on his nightstand, filled to the brim with cherry wine.

“Good morning, Taemin.”

Jinki walked over to him then, gravitating towards the other man as usual. He brought a hand up to Taemin’s shoulder, feeling the soft silk of his blouse under his fingertips as he leaned in for a customary kiss on the cheek. The servants had gone to leave them alone, but they remained content in their light touches. It was comfortable一natural as it always was with them.

“Will you be doing anything interesting today?”

“Not particularly. I will see to my mother in the afternoon.”

“I will be there if I am needed.”

“Thank you,” Jinki punctuated the statement with the sincerest of smiles on his face, taking in the way Taemin’s expression mirrored his own. “She would like that.”

There were many advantages to being the family’s youngest prince一one of which Jinki had found with Taemin, taken advantage of when they married. His eldest brother was heir to the throne, and his other siblings had married into faraway kingdoms for the sake of rank and alliance. Jinki’s duty was一if one would allow it to be called in such a way一truly more to his family than to the kingdom. He took care of his parents as they aged, brought life into the palace as it dulled, and filled the atmosphere with his innocent spirit. He was beloved by his parents and the people, uncharacteristically kind amongst the rest of the royals.

It also meant that when it came to marriage, Jinki had a much freer choice than his brothers and sister. Still, no one would have expected his selection一it pulls a bittersweet smile on his lips every time it crosses his mind. Taemin’s skin was bathed in sunlight as he moved around the room, the silk of his blouse hanging off his shoulders with every movement. Jinki was allowed to marry for love, if he so pleased一and yet the reminder was somehow wistful as he watched his husband in the full light of day, a ring around his finger, glinting in the sunlight to match Jinki’s own.

Jinki does not quite know what love is, yet. But when he decided to marry Taemin, he supposed that perhaps that was the closest thing.

“I sent up some of that cherry wine you like so much.” Taemin uttered it with confidence as he stood in front of Jinki, raising his wrist up for the other man to help him with his sleeves. Jinki responded as he did just that, a million thoughts running through his head as the atmosphere shifted.

“You don’t have to, my dear.”

“I never knew you to like wine.” Taemin said, raising up his other hand when Jinki was done with the first. “But you seem to have a glass of it every evening, lately.”

“Tastes change,” Jinki said timidly, keeping his eyes locked on the cuff of Taemin’s sleeve, trying desperately to hide the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Will you be painting today?”

“I will.” Taemin tilted his head to the side as his husband continued to fiddle with his cuff sleeves. “You should join us; Kibum likes cherry wine. We can all have a glass.”

Jinki gulped a little bit at the suggestion, still refusing to look at the other man. There was something about Taemin’s aura, the familiar but intimidating glint in the eyes of his best-friend-turned-husband-turned-prince. Taemin was by no means cruel; he looked at Jinki with concern, with more generosity than suspicion. He never liked to bait or taunt. Always to the point, wearing his heart on his sleeve, his best intentions on full display.

“You know that I care for you, yes?”

Jinki nodded, forcing himself to look into the other’s eyes. “As do I.”

“You have never been my enemy,” Taemin says, grabbing hold of Jinki’s hand and squeezing tightly. “And I am not yours. So I hope we can be honest with each other.”

A battle arose then: between the pounding in Jinki’s chest, and Taemin’s genuine smile that ventured to quell it. There was no threat whatsoever in the other prince’s voice, but Jinki couldn’t help but feel the tension crawling on his skin一and Taemin’s soft touch was not quite enough to bring it to a halt.

“Yes, angel,” Jinki responded simply, still holding their hands up between them. “I am grateful for you.”

Taemin let go of him at that, adjusting the blouse on his torso before propping himself up with a hand on Jinki’s shoulder, tiptoeing slightly to place a light kiss on his cheek. Jinki let himself smile at the action, turning around when Taemin made way for his exit.

“I shall see you in the afternoon,” he said, bidding Jinki goodbye with a slight bow. Jinki reciprocated the action, still slightly dumbfounded at the exchange, before Taemin his heel to make his way to wherever it was he had to go, leaving Jinki standing alone in Taemin’s bedroom to release the breath that was caught in his throat.

Later in the morning, Jinki watched from afar but did not join them, just as he said he would not. Kibum guided Taemin through painting various types of scenery in the palace garden, leaning over him dutifully, both of them oblivious to the lingering eyes from an inconspicuous palace window. Jinki simply inhaled sharply as the two sipped from glasses of cherry wine, the memory of the night before tingling insistently on the back of his tongue.

iii.

“He knows.”

The next evening that Jinki and Kibum can be alone with each other is some couple weeks since the last. Jinki revels in Kibum’s familiar figure in the moonlight, cheeks flushed with summer warmth, breathing slowly as they lay side by side on the prince’s spacious bed.

“Who knows what, darling?”

“Taemin,” Jinki begins shakily. “I have an inkling that he knows about… this. About us.”

Kibum falls into silence, but he doesn’t budge as they lay face to face. He only brings his hand up to his lover’s cheek, cradling him as he considered his next words, trying not to add on to the clear worry in Jinki’s eyes.

“Is he angry with you? Or with me?”

“I don’t think so,” Jinki replies, quiet. Unsure. “The prince is slow to anger一you know this. He only said he wished me to be… to be honest.”

“I don’t understand.” Kibum paused to take in the words once more, growing careful, and much more gentle with every word uttered between them. “Forgive me, my darling. I don’t understand.”

“What do you wish to know?” Jinki questioned, taking a deep breath before looking up at his lover and adding quietly, “If it will ease your mind, Kibum… let me help you understand.”

Kibum had millions of questions whirling around in his head. The prince was beside him, lying comfortably in his arms一he toed the line in Kibum’s mind between a dream and a stranger, between truth and fantasy. Everything about Jinki was a mystery, except for the fact that Kibum knew he loved him, much longer than both of them could even recall. It was enough for them to love behind closed doors most nights, but Kibum cannot deny that there are voices in his head that tug at his curiosities, an insatiable longing to want Jinki without apprehension, to have more of him一all of him. And the clearest barrier to that stared Kibum right in the face on the sunniest of mornings in the palace garden, so it is the question of this that Kibum lets roll off his tongue, careful and sweet so as not to shake the safety that Jinki had found in his hold.

“You know that I trust you,” Kibum started, careful. “But I cannot help to wonder about the prince.” Kibum cleared his throat, clarifying in a split second, “Taemin.”

“Yes.”

“You are married to him.”

“Yes.”

“But…” Kibum trailed off, tilting Jinki’s chin up to look into his eyes. “You are not on bad terms with each other. You are a good husband to him, and there is affection between the two of you. You did not have to marry at all, and yet you chose to marry him. And yet… yet, you let me hold you like this in the darkness. We keep these secrets behind his back. The chamber maids are not wholly convinced of your devotion to each other, and you do not even sleep in the same chambers.”

“We do not sleep in the same bed because一” Jinki cut himself off, realizing the defensiveness in his swift reply. He took a shaky breath, looking worriedly at Kibum with quivering lips. “It is because I don’t want him to touch me.”

“To… touch you?”

“The way spouses touch each other,” Jinki said, breaking their locked gazes. “I don’t want it.”

“He would not force you, if you did not want it,” Kibum reassured, rubbing circles into Jinki’s back as he hid himself in Kibum’s chest. “You know him to be kind. We both do.” 

“I don’t want it with anyone, Kibum,” Jinki spoke timidly into his chest. “It’s not just him.”

Kibum lets his jaw drop, but only for a split second before he feels the prince shaking in his arms, breaths getting more shallow the more he tried to hide in the other man’s chest. Kibum urged him to break away, to look up at him before he spoke gently. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know.”

“Nobody knows,” Jinki responded timidly. “It’s alright.”

“I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable in the past.”

“You haven’t,” Jinki stated cleanly, the surest thing he had uttered all evening. “You have been good to me. Very much so.”

Kibum pressed a chaste kiss on Jinki’s lips, keeping safer than he ever had as the prince laid himself bare, let himself fall into vulnerability more than he ever had before. They tried to find their peace in the silence, floating together up in nowhere as always. But the unanswered questions still hung in between them, tethering them to the ground, making themselves more known as Jinki’s breaths evened out to the rhythm of Kibum’s light on his back. Kibum began to speak again, still soft as ever, trailing off mindlessly as more questions played in his thoughts. 

“Jinki, I still don’t…”

Kibum closed his eyes, a labored exhale escaping his lips as he trailed off, the painter hoping that his lover would speak for him what he could not discern for himself, answer for him all the questions that he simply did not know how to ask.

“You want to know why I married Taemin, yes?”

Kibum nodded, considering his next words carefully. As close as he was to Jinki, Kibum was still a civilian一and they were discussing a prince. “He is not of noble blood, nor does he have a title, so I do not suppose he was betrothed to you… But you are married to him一does that not mean that you love him? Or that you did, in the past?”

Jinki pulled away from him after that, gently untangling their limbs to sit up against the wooden frame of the bed. Kibum followed after him, his gaze pulled directly to Jinki’s hands as he absently played with the ring on his finger. The sight left a pang in Kibum’s chest that made him wonder why he had never felt it before; he silently watched his lover, ready to listen as Jinki stared straight ahead, beginning to speak in his low tone.

“I do not love him. Or perhaps I am not sure… I do not really know what love is. I do not quite know if it was love.”

Kibum hummed, urging him to go on. “Tell me, darling.”

Jinki smiled at him without looking, the tension in his body easing a little at Kibum’s favorite term of endearment, still as sweet as ever albeit arguably overused. It made it easier to breathe, to continue along and bear his heart, knowing that Kibum was intent on listening to him, being with him, truly knowing him.

“Taemin is my best friend,” Jinki began, doing his best to continue from where he started. “My mother wanted me to learn the harp when I was young. She wanted me to learn many things, really一this was just another one of them. I was bad at it, like I was at most things I was supposed to be good at. But the lessons were always interesting; they were the reason I met Taemin.

“We were only children, then. His father was my teacher, and he would bring Taemin along with him to the palace while he taught me to play. Taemin tried to learn, too, and we got along well. He was so much better than me一he still is. Anyone could tell that I gave up on the harp not even two sessions in, but I told my mother otherwise, because Taemin was there. He was my friend. We would talk, and sometimes we would play. Eventually, he started coming to the palace to teach me alone, but we would really just go outside to play, or stay in the gardens to talk. My mother knew of it, I believe, but she did not try to stop us. Taemin was always welcome at the palace since then. We shared everything with each other, grew up together like I wasn’t a prince living in the royal palace. Like we were not so different.

“One day, he came to the palace, and I remember so clearly that I had never seen him look as he did, then. His eyes were sunken and he didn’t dare smile. It was foreign to me. There was a voice in my head telling me that I wanted to hurt whoever made him this way, to make sure that expression never existed on his face again. When he told me the reason why一that was when I decided, I think. To marry him.

“His parents were going to marry him off, he said. Some marquess from another kingdom had seen him at the palace and taken interest. And I remember thinking then, how much I failed to see how different we were in the eyes of the world. Taemin always tried not to make it glare out so obviously, when we were together, but it was the reality of life. And it was unfair; I despised it with all my being.

“He wanted more out of life. He wanted to continue learning the harp. He wanted to create so many things一he wanted to write, and play the piano, and paint, and dance一god, he wanted so badly to dance. And so I told him that I wanted him to do all of that, too, because he could. I knew that he could, and he was going to. And his parents were going to damn a marquess to hell if Taemin could marry a prince.” Jinki breathed out, digging his heels into his eyes after realizing all that he had said. He willed himself to breathe steadily one last time, before concluding, “And so, I asked my best friend一if he wanted instead to marry a prince.”

Jinki could feel the weight of Kibum’s eyes on him, growing more and more restless the longer the other man did not reach out. When Kibum didn’t speak, Jinki battled with the lump in his throat and the tears stinging his eyes, if only to make way for one last remark.

“I do not love him, Kibum,” he said, his voice a higher tone than usual. “I married him to give him his freedom. I only wanted to set him free.”

Kibum finally wrapped an arm around him at the utterance, pulling Jinki into his embrace as the prince released muffled sobs into the fabric of his white shirt. Kibum rubbed his back with practiced hands, his soft shushing obscured into Jinki’s black locks, soothing him as he let him cry into his chest.

“That does not sound very unloving to me, Jinki,” Kibum said simply, in between littered kisses on the top of the other’s head. “It was an act of love. I understand, now.”

“But it is not this,” Jinki suddenly spoke up, locking his glassy eyes with Kibum’s above him. “I wished silently that it could be enough一I truly did. But it is not. It’s not enough. Because it’s not you.”

Kibum went stiff at the declaration, but it was gone just as quickly as it came over him; he felt a tear slip down his cheek, getting lost under Jinki’s thumb when he swiped it away from under his eye. Their gazes gravitated toward the other, faces tear-stained and flushed as they closed the distance between their lips. Their hands wandered experimentally, wanting to hold as much of the other as they could, and Jinki felt his heart race in a way he had never known. The contents of his soul were here now一spilled out into the open一and even Jinki felt like he was looking at himself with new eyes, like someone he had never seen before. He wonders if maybe he was seeing himself the way Kibum always had一because if anyone knew the truths he tried to hide even from himself, it would be him. No matter what, Jinki knew it would be him.

“I love you,” Jinki whispered in a breath of air, quiet against Kibum’s mouth before kissing him again. “I love you, Kibum.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Kibum said instantly, giving Jinki one last chaste kiss before pulling away.

Jinki tries not to mourn the loss as Kibum grounds himself, hands on both of Jinki’s shoulders as they catch their breaths. Kibum moves closer to him, inching forward enough to press their foreheads together, eyes closed and listening to each other’s heartbeats.

“Jinki,” he utters, still breathless. “Do you ever think of running away from here?”

It startles him, but Kibum’s hold is firm and grounding. Jinki shakes his head, confused but not dismissive. “I don’t know, Kibum. It is frightening.”

“I know,” Kibum responds, running his fingers down the sides of his lover’s face. “You are a prince. You live comfortably here. You care for Taemin. But I want to love you in the daylight as well, my darling.” He paused, a little unsure, before settling with, “just know that if you say the word, Jinki, I would go in a heartbeat.”

Jinki simply brought his hands around Kibum’s neck, settling into his lap as he leaned into him once more. Kibum let Jinki kiss him, soft and sweet, adjusting perfectly whenever Jinki deepened the touches of their lips. There was no cherry wine tonight, but the feeling was almost beyond dizzying; Kibum knew he never wanted to leave, just as he had told Jinki how he wished he could stay until the sun shone on them both. For now, he simply kissed him reverently, fitting into him like a beautiful, mismatched puzzle piece, memorizing the colors in the back of his mind like a painting he would create and never want to finish.

“I love you, Kibum.”

“I am yours, Jinki,” Kibum breathed, the words immediately lost in Jinki’s lungs at their proximity. “I love you, too.”

iv.

Jinki stared absently at himself in the mirror of his dressing table, uninterested eyes locked on the adornments all around his shoulders. Jinki shifted slightly as his servant adjusted them for him, looking at the prince through the mirror with an indecipherable expression on his face.

“Is everything alright, Your Highness?”

Jinki was startled out of his thoughts at being addressed, coughing quietly before uttering a simple response. “Yes. Thank you.”

The royal family was to entertain guests for dinner, tonight一dukes and lords from places that Jinki can barely remember the names of. He was only expected to be present, as always, with his husband by his side. His brother did the talking, and the King and Queen handled the pleasantries. When it came to matters like these, Jinki did not really mind acting as a simple decoration, and he knew that neither did Taemin. It was a small price to pay, a momentary blip in their routine that always passed by qui