How to Snag an Attractive Bodyguard, by Prince Sehun
How to Snag an Attractive Bodyguard, by Prince Sehun
jongin/sehun, pg-13, crack
for this prompt: Kai is a hard-working peasant son happily selling food at the town market after a good harvest. Fair-skinned smelling-like-roses prince Sehun on his elegant horse does not mingle with peasants.
But those potatoes look delicious.
thanks potaoto for editing ♥
Sehun was cold, tired, and miserable. He just wanted to get home, have his servant draw him a tub of hot water, have a bath, and huddle up in his finest Imported Silk, thousand thread count sheets. His beautiful white steed was getting tired, too, clopping along slowly, but there was a roadblock in the street ahead due to a tree falling over in the heavy snow, and pardon his French, but Sehun just wanted to get home, dammit. He sniffed a little, feeling his eyebrows knit into a frown and his lower lip slide out into a pout: he was going to be upset, he could just feel it. This was horrible.
Sehun casted an annoyed frown to his left: a peddler hawking potatoes. Sehun scoffed - he didn't even remember the last time he’d eaten potatoes, the lowly root. A glance to his right: a middle-aged woman selling colourful playthings - Sehun might have dismounted and bought a windmill because they were pretty, if the ground wasn’t covered with snow; his boots were genuine suede, after all. Oh, and if she weren't a peasant. Oh Sehun did not mingle with peasants.
Another frustrated look ahead yielded no good news: the tree was proving to be very large and bulky indeed for the removal team, and Sehun was pretty much stuck in the middle of this blasted road with no one besides peasants for company. Oh, bollocks.
Sehun blew at his bangs, rolling his eyes as the peasant to his left yelled about potatoes.
“Potatoes! Delicious potatoes for cheap!” The peddler lifted his huge metal steamer lid to serve a customer and Sehun, reluctantly, got a whiff of the potatoes - whoa, okay, did potatoes always smell so good? Because they smelled like the delicacies Sehun usually gets back in the palace, and Sehun didn't eat lowly roots, but the potatoes did smell delicious. He snuck a little peek at the mound of steaming potatoes in the peddler’s cart - they looked delicious, too, even if the skins seemed rather mucky. He’d only had a bit of cheese and bread for lunch, too, having lost his bag of food on his way to the hunting grounds, and he was starving.
But, of course, Sehun did not buy things from street carts - the nasty food could upset his delicate stomach! - and he did not mingle with peasants.
Sehun resisted for two whole seconds before he caved and dismounted, walking over to the peddler. The peddler looked up, grinning and holding out a potato at him.
“Potato, sir?”
Sehun had to fight to keep his nose from wrinkling, because the peasant’s hand was holding that mucky potato’s skin with no gloves, or any sort of protection. The dirt, Sehun thought, appalled. But the potatoes did look delicious.
“Do you have... a napkin?” Sehun asked, wary of the very dirty potato. The peasant gave him a strange look.
“No......” The peddler rummaged around in his cart, “but I guess you can have this rag to hold it?”
The rag was passably clean if Sehun closed both his eyes, and it was probably better than nothing, so Sehun took the potato. The smell of the potato was almost overwhelming, and his stomach was growling louder by the minute, so he would just wash his hands twice as hard when he got back to the palace and it should be fine.
One thing, though.
“How... do I remove... the skin?” Sehun asked the peasant, who stared at him, expression unreadable. Wordlessly, the peasant grabbed the potato over, which made Sehun jump a little (and wipe his hands on his brocade robe). He was about to call the peasant rude when the peasant started peeling his potato. Well, then. Perhaps some of these street stalls had better service than he’d thought.
“Thank you,” Sehun said stiffly when the potato seller handed the peeled potato back to him, snug in the rag. The potato seller glanced at him and turned away, clearly snorting at Sehun, to which Sehun bristled, but was sufficiently distracted with a bite of the potato. It was delicious.
Sehun took two bites before he felt his legs getting a little tired; Oh Sehun did not stand around for long. Looking around for somewhere to sit on - somewhere that wasn’t dirty gravel, he frowned and clicked his tongue a little, to which the potato peddler turned around and stared at him. Sehun pretended not to be very put out with someone staring at him and continued with his search - after all, peasants must not have learnt manners, like he did. He must try to be more benevolent and understanding, as his father King Junmyeon often told him.
“You can sit here,” the potato seller suddenly said, and pushed a tiny stool towards Sehun. It was roughly-cut wood and pretty dirty, too, but there wasn't much up for choice here, so Sehun took it and perched himself on it as comfortably as he could. The potato seller glanced again at him, snorted and shook his head a little, then plopped down on the ground.
“Isn’t - it... cold?” Sehun asked, because the peasant was sitting on snow.
“Yeah,” the guy shrugged, “but it’s fine. You can sit there.”
Sehun stared at him, but he wasn't about to give up his precious seat, so he just munched on his potato in silence.
It happened in a flash - Sehun didn't know what happened, exactly: there was a flash of black in front of both of them and then the potato seller practically threw Sehun behind his cart, yelling for Sehun to stay down. Sehun could see a bunch of masked people dressed in black, brandishing swords and one with a bow and arrow (jeebers, Sehun was really freaked out now).
“What -”
“Shut up and stay down,” the potato seller yelled, whipping out a sword from the bottom of his cart. Sehun got right the fuck down behind the cart when he felt an arrow whizz by his ear, and watched with his heart in his mouth and possibly pee in his pants as the potato seller fended off the masked hooligans, knocking most of them out and the bandits spurting blood from each limb the potato seller cut. Sehun would never had admitted this normally, but dang did this peasant look really dashing.
The limp forms of the bandits built up on the ground as the potato seller saved Sehun's fair-skinned, rose-smelling ass, and when the group of assassin scum started to stagger away, Sehun still cowered behind the potato cart, the potato seller finally dropped the sword and looked at Sehun, his brow furrowed.
"Who are you?" he asked, and Sehun frowned. He should have been the one asking that. Sehun was royalty - who didn't know who Sehun was?
"I'm Sehun," he said stiffly, because he had seen what this guy could do to a human body, after all. "Who... are... you?"
"Kai," the potato seller said brusquely after giving him a once-over. "Are you a prince, or what? Why are there people after you."
"I am a prince, yes," Sehun said, miffed because this Kai hadn't recognised him. "Who are you?"
"Someone who knows how to defend himself, clearly," Kai told him, which got Sehun very indignant, but he couldn't piss this guy off; he was Sehun's benefactor, technically, and Sehun was afraid of getting back to the palace alone after that attack on him (he would show Father that there were people wanting to kill him and that he clearly needed a whole troop of guards, which Father had always refused).
"Sir," Sehun blurted, then bit his lip because maybe that was overkill. "Um, could I pay? You? To... escort me back to the palace?"
Kai gave him a strange look, then looked pointedly back at his potato cart.
"I'll buy all of them," Sehun volunteered quickly. "And you can spend the night in the palace. I'll have them get you a really warm bed and, like, a post. As my Samurai Bodyguard."
Kai looked deadpan. "I'm not a samurai. And is this your idea of employing me?"
"Well," Sehun pouted, "it would be better than selling potatoes."
"What's wrong with potatoes? You had one. I love potatoes." Oops. Kai was looking rather offended.
"Nothing!" Sehun backpedaled so fast he almost felt the wind smack him in the face. "You know, potatoes are great! Yeah! Great....."
Kai snorted and went back to his cart, sitting down on the stool. "What do you do all day? You know, as a prince?"
"Uh, you know, princely things! Yeah. Princely... things." Perhaps this guy was considering it. Sehun crossed his fingers discreetly under his robe.
"So nothing." Kai picked at his fingernails.
"No! I help my father take care of this country." Sehun brushed imaginary snow off his robe.
"Convert oxygen into carbon dioxide all day, then."
Sehun nearly agreed before he managed to catch himself, and tried to hide his disgruntled expression. "I will pay you handsomely."
Kai just looked at him expressionlessly.
"Please?" Sehun mumbled to his feet. "I'm scared."
Kai snorted and glanced at Sehun, a frown on his face like he couldn't believe a guy like Sehun existed.
This was about all the hits at Sehun's princely pride he could take, so he scowled to himself and trudged to his horse. He would have to brave the journey home himself. Maybe riding more quickly would help, but he would have to ride faster than an arrow.... oh, fecks.
The next thing he knew, though, the potato cart was hooked up to his horse, he was just about thrown onto his horse himself, and arms came around him to grab the reins. He turned around and was greeted by Kai rolling his eyes.
"Let's go, prince Sehun," Kai said, his tone a little too sarcastic for Sehun's taste, but he shut up and decided that training Kai to fix that could come later, as they rode off into the sunset.
jongin/sehun, pg-13, crack
for this prompt: Kai is a hard-working peasant son happily selling food at the town market after a good harvest. Fair-skinned smelling-like-roses prince Sehun on his elegant horse does not mingle with peasants.
But those potatoes look delicious.
thanks potaoto for editing ♥
Sehun was cold, tired, and miserable. He just wanted to get home, have his servant draw him a tub of hot water, have a bath, and huddle up in his finest Imported Silk, thousand thread count sheets. His beautiful white steed was getting tired, too, clopping along slowly, but there was a roadblock in the street ahead due to a tree falling over in the heavy snow, and pardon his French, but Sehun just wanted to get home, dammit. He sniffed a little, feeling his eyebrows knit into a frown and his lower lip slide out into a pout: he was going to be upset, he could just feel it. This was horrible.
Sehun casted an annoyed frown to his left: a peddler hawking potatoes. Sehun scoffed - he didn't even remember the last time he’d eaten potatoes, the lowly root. A glance to his right: a middle-aged woman selling colourful playthings - Sehun might have dismounted and bought a windmill because they were pretty, if the ground wasn’t covered with snow; his boots were genuine suede, after all. Oh, and if she weren't a peasant. Oh Sehun did not mingle with peasants.
Another frustrated look ahead yielded no good news: the tree was proving to be very large and bulky indeed for the removal team, and Sehun was pretty much stuck in the middle of this blasted road with no one besides peasants for company. Oh, bollocks.
Sehun blew at his bangs, rolling his eyes as the peasant to his left yelled about potatoes.
“Potatoes! Delicious potatoes for cheap!” The peddler lifted his huge metal steamer lid to serve a customer and Sehun, reluctantly, got a whiff of the potatoes - whoa, okay, did potatoes always smell so good? Because they smelled like the delicacies Sehun usually gets back in the palace, and Sehun didn't eat lowly roots, but the potatoes did smell delicious. He snuck a little peek at the mound of steaming potatoes in the peddler’s cart - they looked delicious, too, even if the skins seemed rather mucky. He’d only had a bit of cheese and bread for lunch, too, having lost his bag of food on his way to the hunting grounds, and he was starving.
But, of course, Sehun did not buy things from street carts - the nasty food could upset his delicate stomach! - and he did not mingle with peasants.
Sehun resisted for two whole seconds before he caved and dismounted, walking over to the peddler. The peddler looked up, grinning and holding out a potato at him.
“Potato, sir?”
Sehun had to fight to keep his nose from wrinkling, because the peasant’s hand was holding that mucky potato’s skin with no gloves, or any sort of protection. The dirt, Sehun thought, appalled. But the potatoes did look delicious.
“Do you have... a napkin?” Sehun asked, wary of the very dirty potato. The peasant gave him a strange look.
“No......” The peddler rummaged around in his cart, “but I guess you can have this rag to hold it?”
The rag was passably clean if Sehun closed both his eyes, and it was probably better than nothing, so Sehun took the potato. The smell of the potato was almost overwhelming, and his stomach was growling louder by the minute, so he would just wash his hands twice as hard when he got back to the palace and it should be fine.
One thing, though.
“How... do I remove... the skin?” Sehun asked the peasant, who stared at him, expression unreadable. Wordlessly, the peasant grabbed the potato over, which made Sehun jump a little (and wipe his hands on his brocade robe). He was about to call the peasant rude when the peasant started peeling his potato. Well, then. Perhaps some of these street stalls had better service than he’d thought.
“Thank you,” Sehun said stiffly when the potato seller handed the peeled potato back to him, snug in the rag. The potato seller glanced at him and turned away, clearly snorting at Sehun, to which Sehun bristled, but was sufficiently distracted with a bite of the potato. It was delicious.
Sehun took two bites before he felt his legs getting a little tired; Oh Sehun did not stand around for long. Looking around for somewhere to sit on - somewhere that wasn’t dirty gravel, he frowned and clicked his tongue a little, to which the potato peddler turned around and stared at him. Sehun pretended not to be very put out with someone staring at him and continued with his search - after all, peasants must not have learnt manners, like he did. He must try to be more benevolent and understanding, as his father King Junmyeon often told him.
“You can sit here,” the potato seller suddenly said, and pushed a tiny stool towards Sehun. It was roughly-cut wood and pretty dirty, too, but there wasn't much up for choice here, so Sehun took it and perched himself on it as comfortably as he could. The potato seller glanced again at him, snorted and shook his head a little, then plopped down on the ground.
“Isn’t - it... cold?” Sehun asked, because the peasant was sitting on snow.
“Yeah,” the guy shrugged, “but it’s fine. You can sit there.”
Sehun stared at him, but he wasn't about to give up his precious seat, so he just munched on his potato in silence.
It happened in a flash - Sehun didn't know what happened, exactly: there was a flash of black in front of both of them and then the potato seller practically threw Sehun behind his cart, yelling for Sehun to stay down. Sehun could see a bunch of masked people dressed in black, brandishing swords and one with a bow and arrow (jeebers, Sehun was really freaked out now).
“What -”
“Shut up and stay down,” the potato seller yelled, whipping out a sword from the bottom of his cart. Sehun got right the fuck down behind the cart when he felt an arrow whizz by his ear, and watched with his heart in his mouth and possibly pee in his pants as the potato seller fended off the masked hooligans, knocking most of them out and the bandits spurting blood from each limb the potato seller cut. Sehun would never had admitted this normally, but dang did this peasant look really dashing.
The limp forms of the bandits built up on the ground as the potato seller saved Sehun's fair-skinned, rose-smelling ass, and when the group of assassin scum started to stagger away, Sehun still cowered behind the potato cart, the potato seller finally dropped the sword and looked at Sehun, his brow furrowed.
"Who are you?" he asked, and Sehun frowned. He should have been the one asking that. Sehun was royalty - who didn't know who Sehun was?
"I'm Sehun," he said stiffly, because he had seen what this guy could do to a human body, after all. "Who... are... you?"
"Kai," the potato seller said brusquely after giving him a once-over. "Are you a prince, or what? Why are there people after you."
"I am a prince, yes," Sehun said, miffed because this Kai hadn't recognised him. "Who are you?"
"Someone who knows how to defend himself, clearly," Kai told him, which got Sehun very indignant, but he couldn't piss this guy off; he was Sehun's benefactor, technically, and Sehun was afraid of getting back to the palace alone after that attack on him (he would show Father that there were people wanting to kill him and that he clearly needed a whole troop of guards, which Father had always refused).
"Sir," Sehun blurted, then bit his lip because maybe that was overkill. "Um, could I pay? You? To... escort me back to the palace?"
Kai gave him a strange look, then looked pointedly back at his potato cart.
"I'll buy all of them," Sehun volunteered quickly. "And you can spend the night in the palace. I'll have them get you a really warm bed and, like, a post. As my Samurai Bodyguard."
Kai looked deadpan. "I'm not a samurai. And is this your idea of employing me?"
"Well," Sehun pouted, "it would be better than selling potatoes."
"What's wrong with potatoes? You had one. I love potatoes." Oops. Kai was looking rather offended.
"Nothing!" Sehun backpedaled so fast he almost felt the wind smack him in the face. "You know, potatoes are great! Yeah! Great....."
Kai snorted and went back to his cart, sitting down on the stool. "What do you do all day? You know, as a prince?"
"Uh, you know, princely things! Yeah. Princely... things." Perhaps this guy was considering it. Sehun crossed his fingers discreetly under his robe.
"So nothing." Kai picked at his fingernails.
"No! I help my father take care of this country." Sehun brushed imaginary snow off his robe.
"Convert oxygen into carbon dioxide all day, then."
Sehun nearly agreed before he managed to catch himself, and tried to hide his disgruntled expression. "I will pay you handsomely."
Kai just looked at him expressionlessly.
"Please?" Sehun mumbled to his feet. "I'm scared."
Kai snorted and glanced at Sehun, a frown on his face like he couldn't believe a guy like Sehun existed.
This was about all the hits at Sehun's princely pride he could take, so he scowled to himself and trudged to his horse. He would have to brave the journey home himself. Maybe riding more quickly would help, but he would have to ride faster than an arrow.... oh, fecks.
The next thing he knew, though, the potato cart was hooked up to his horse, he was just about thrown onto his horse himself, and arms came around him to grab the reins. He turned around and was greeted by Kai rolling his eyes.
"Let's go, prince Sehun," Kai said, his tone a little too sarcastic for Sehun's taste, but he shut up and decided that training Kai to fix that could come later, as they rode off into the sunset.