“We can’t even live,” Jongdae pouts, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he concentrates on not crying.  They’re walking away from the ball room, into one of the hallways. “We have no lives.” A tear escapes his eye and he brushes it away as Jongin sits down in the middle of the hall. “We don’t even know why.”

  Jongin snorts, “And we probably won’t. Minseok is so kept to himself, he’ll never tell us.” He looks up at him, “We’re lucky he even spoke to us tonight. That was the most I hoped for, at least.”

  “Shouldn’t the princes of Seoul be in the ball room?” A voice comes from down the hallway and Zitao and Yixing approach them. “Was it that boring?”

  Jongdae plasters on a smile as Jongin stands to his feet. “Not at all. It was just a little stuffy, is all,” he lies easily. “Want some chocolate? I know where the stash is hidden.”

  Jongin elbows him, “You know we can’t share that.” But he’s smiling as they lead them down the hall to the kitchen. Jongdae reaches for the chocolate stack, on the high shelf on the cabinet, and nearly toppes over, but then Yixing is catching him with arms around his waist. Jongin snorts, “That keeps happening.”

  “I can’t help I’m short!” Jongdae exasperates, hands thrown up in the air.

  “Don’t worry, it’s cute.” Did Yixing just wink?

  “Did you just wink?” Jongin asks, “At Jongdae?” He starts laughing, pulling the chocolate down. “Okay, that was great. Chocolate anyone?”

  Zitao appears right next to him, very close and he can feel his body heat through his clothes and finds he doesn’t mind all that much. “What kind?”

  “You look like a mint kind of person,” Jongin smirks when Zitao nods, “here,” and hands him a black chocolate chocolate bar with minx extract in it. “Share, though. I like mint, too.”

  “I like sharing,” Zitao grins and winks, and Jongin flushes. There’s a small crash behind him and he spins around to see Jongdae in a pile of pots rubbing the back of his head with Yixing kneeling in front of him with hands on his shoulders. “Dude, you really are clutzy.”

  Jongdae lets himself fall back against the pots, laughing, forgetting about Minseok and the gates and all his troubles for another time.

  They split off after that, Zitao and Jongin going one direction to find blankets and Jongdae and Yixing going in another to pick out movies. The ball is too stuffy for Jongin, and Yixing has a problem with closed in spaces and lots of people, so they decide to meet up in the main living room after finding what they set off for.

  Jongdae leads Yixing down a set of corridors, practically running with Yixing close behind him until they’re making a sharp turn, laughing as Yixing stumbles on the polished floor. But then Yixing is on top of him, Jongdae smushed into the floor. A deep blush settles on his face, but Yixing doesn’t move off and Jongdae isn’t sure he wants to. The only contact he’s had physically is from Jongin when he’s sad and the maids when they’re dressing him up, so this is new, and he wants to bask in it. But.

  “Oh, g-gee,” he stammers, looking anywhere but at his mouth. “Uh, th-this is weird.” His eyes buldge out. “Not you. I’m weird. B-but I’m sure you’ve realized that already, right? I mean, yeah… weird, right?”

  “If this is weird, I like it,” Yixing says smoothly, “I like weird, Jongdae.”

  “O-oh,” Jongdae’s blush deepens, “Well, uh, good. Good. Because that’s what I am. Weird. Me. I am weird. Totally weird.”

  “I’m glad,” Yixing leans forwards, their noses barley touches, and smirks. “Weird suits you,” and Jongdae doesn’t know whether or not to take that as a compliment or an insult, but he doesn’t care right now because Yixing smells like chocolate.

  Yixing helps him back up, keeping their hands linked together long after he’s steadied on his feet. “Oh. Oh, um. Thank you, Prince Yixing.”

  “I like it when you say my name,” Yixing whispers to him.

  Jongdae blushes tugging him forwards, “come on, come on.”

  “No, wait!” Yixing pulls Jongdae around and into his arms so they’re chest to chest. He looks down at him, a smile on his face. “This might be the last chance we’ll be alone, and I want this to be special. So, Prince Jongdae of Seoul,” he takes a step away from him and kneels onto the ground. “This might sound a little weird, but will you marry me?”

  “Jongdae has probably tripped four times by now,” Jongin chuckles to himself, sitting against the couch with a blanket thrown across his lap. “That’s why they’re taking so long to get back here. Jongdae has no coordination whatsoever.”

   Zitao sits next to him, their shoulders brushing every time they breathe and their thighs pressed together. Jongin feels uneasy around him, but he doesn’t want to leave. He wants a friend other than Jongdae, even if it’s only for today. One day is all he needs, and he can go back to his sheltered life inside the gates, but he needs this. Minseok can’t take this away from him, King or not.

  So he allows himself to lean against him, his forearm sliding against his stomach until he’s comfortable and has gotten enough physical contact for him to settle. “And he’s the older one?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Jongin waves his hand, “Born before me, older than me, you know how that works?”

  Zitao blushes, “U-uh, yeah, I do.” He wraps an arm around him, tugging him closer, Jongin’s heart rate picking up. “I actually have four older brothers. It’s not so bad compared to Yixing. He has seven. We both kind of get each other.”

  “So, how are you both princes to the same kingdom if you aren’t related?” Jongin questions.

  Zitao goes silent for a moment. “It’s kind of a long story, really. Something for another time, yeah?”

  “O-okay,” Jongin agrees easily, slumping against him. “So, what’s it like having four brothers?”

  “Complete hell,” Zitao laughs, “But I guess it’s better than having a sister. They sound horrid.”

  “Well,” he thinks for a moment, “A female figure is important in any person’s life, I think.” He goes silent, listening around. “I think Jongdae might have actually hurt himself. C-can we go look for him?”

  The doors burst open then, Jongdae and Yixing stumbling in, giggling. “Jongin, Jongin,” Jongdae goes to his brother, sitting on his knees in front of him with the biggest smile on his face.”Yixing asked me to marry him!”

  “Seriously?” Jongin gapes at him, then at Yixing. “He asked you? But you’re so weird!”

  “Be happy for me!” Jongdae pouts, taking his hands in his and bouncing on his knees. “This is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “I’d like to offer my congratulations,” Jongin grins.