Arabian Nights (Au!Fic) 2/8
“I always listen to you, don’t I Min?” Ryeowook grins at him as he sashays out of the bedroom, bangles clinking as he goes.
…
Jongwoon’s life is turned upside down, dowsed in kerosene and set on fire.
At least, that’s what it feels like; sitting in the palace kitchen of all places with a cute little immigrant talking a mile a minute and shoving a bowl of harira in his face.
Yesterday he woke up on his own apartment rug with hardly a penny to his name and the smell of a job in the air. This morning he wakes up next to posh sheets, an angry guard on his back, and a strange smirking Prince. He figures those idiots from the Market have probably figured out that he isn’t coming at this point, and there will be definite repercussions. To top it all off, he has a splitting headache.
He rubs his temples as he tries to sort through the mess that is his thought process. “Excuse me, not to be rude or anything, but would you please shut up? It feels like I have a hangover. That bloody guard hits hard.” The kid blinks for a moment before happily chirping about ‘His Min not knowing his own strength.’
Jongwoon groans aloud, lays his head on his arms and starts seriously considering throwing himself out the window when the object of his headache walks in the room.
“Good morning bodyguard.” The Prince sing songs, fresh layer of kohl surrounding his eyes and ever present jewelry clinking against each other. “Not reconsidering your job offer I hope?” His eyes are gleaming as he sits across from Jongwoon, and a warm cup of jasmine tea is set in front of him by Henry.
Jongwoon grunts and Ryeowook seems to take it as a yes. “Good, because if you hadn’t then I’m afraid I’d have to kill you. Trespassing and plans to kidnap are a crime you know.” Ryeowook leans across the table to look Jongwoon in the eyes. “Still having second thoughts now?”
“Never Highness, you’ve practically offered me a King’s ransom for this job of yours. My services go to the highest bidder.” He punctuates the sentence with a smile, eyes crinkling up even as the corners of his mouth barely twitch downwards. There seems to be no easy way out of either end of his agreements.
“Fantastic. Let’s get started then, I can’t wait around all day for you to finish eating.” Jongwoon is a bit taken aback by this side of the Prince, having only seen the sweet and agreeable Prince of meetings and years ago.
“Well someone’s certainly agreeable this morning.” Jongwoon swallows one last gulp of tea before stretching and popping his shoulder. “But you’re neglecting one crucial fact Highness. I have no tools; all of my weapons of sorts are stored in my shop. So if you want me to be of any use at all, then I suggest you let me go get them.”
Ryeowook snorts, and Jongwoon feels his head pound again. “Sungmin has an armory that would make whatever you have look like child’s play, but if you feel you must. I could probably use a trip to the market anyway; I’m running low on silk.”
Jongwoon raises an eyebrow, Prince still inches from his face. “I didn’t know we had royalty gracing our simple shops. And it’s the black market I need to go to Highness, but if you still feel you need to tag along, I’m not stopping you.”
“Of course I’m coming along, you’re in my employment now if you recall. How am I to know I won’t be kidnapped again while you’re off sorting your affairs?” Ryeowook blows lightly on the bangs covering Jongwoon’s forehead and he feels vaguely patronized, Prince or not he’s still the elder of the two.
“Well assuming you have other things to do today, we’d best head out now. You may want to take off some of those bracelets though, unless you have an interest in being mugged.” Jongwoon gestures at the lines of gold up the Prince’s arms, and Ryeowook scoffs.
“They stay, and it’s your job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Jongwoon’s head feels like it’s about to explode. “And you’re right; I do have other things to do today. Henry, please tell my father I’ve got some business to take care of in the city.” The boy nods and scampers off out the kitchen doors.
“Well your Royal Bratiness, after you then.” Jongwoon holds his hand out as he opens the door, and to his surprise Ryeowook laughs.
“Not many people are willing to talk to me like that. Yes, I think I like you.” His answer leaves Jongwoon furrowing his brows, but before he can reply the Prince is already out the door and walking down the hall, red sash swishing behind him.
“Confusing bastard.” Jongwoon mutters, following behind at a slightly slower pace.
“What was that?” Ryeowook turns and grins as they make their way out of the palace walls, desert sun shining brightly above the buildings. “Did you say something Jongwoon?”
“Not a thing Highness, you must be hearing things.” He gets the pleasure of hearing Ryeowook’s laughter again as the other punches him on the shoulder.
“If you say so. And don’t call me Highness in public; I don’t need anymore attention drawn to myself.” Jongwoon snorts at this, ushering Ryeowook through the alleys in an attempted short cut to the market. It really wouldn’t do if someone were to recognize the Prince, or if he was noticed. News travels fast on the darker side of the law, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the insurgents already had a bounty out on his head.
“So says the one who refused to take off his finery. Fine then Ryeowookie, but can we at least hurry the pace? I’m a bit more worried for my safety than yours at the moment.” Jongwoon side eyes a notice board to his right and sighs as he notices his name and a dollar amount pasted next to it. It really is a marvel how news gets around so quickly.
Jongwoon grimaces as they finally make it to the section of the slums where he set up temporary housing, or what used to be temporary housing, as there are large tendrils of smoke rising from his apartment. Ryeowook pauses in his bickering and sighs.
“I suppose that was your house that’s a pile of ash over there?” Ryeowook surveys the damage over his shoulder, eyebrows knitted together.
“Keyword being was. And from the looks of it, even if I had managed to successfully do my ‘job’ they would have killed me anyway.” Jongwoon kicks a charred board down to enter the ruins of the apartment, picking through the charred rugs and chests for any surviving material.
“Well aren’t you lucky that I decided to keep you then? And you seem rather unconcerned by this.” Ryeowook finds a curved knife under what was presumably a floor at one point, to have it snatched out of his hands by Jongwoon.
“Yes, yes, I’m so happy you’re concerned for my well being.” He pushes Ryeowook out the opening in the wall, what could have been a door, and off to the more legal side of town. “And when it’s happened three or four times you start getting used to it.”
“I wasn’t aware I was hiring such a well known criminal, I should hope that you’re at least good at your job.” Jongwoon continues pushing the Prince down the various alleys until they come to an open section of the market, people milling about and loud haggling all around.
“Too good unfortunately. But if I’m to be in your service, I’m going to assume they’d have a bit harder time burning down the palace.” Ryeowook snorts at this and leads Jongwoon over to a stall run by a woman with long hair and begins looking over the many colorful fabrics offered. “And if you could hurry it up a bit? Let’s just get out of here; it’s a bit early to be flaunting my still living body around.”
“As I keep reminding you, it’s your job to keep us alive.” Ryeowook finally decides on a long piece of purple silk, lightly embroidered on the bottom, before paying and letting Jongwoon drag him out of the stall.
“And it’s amazing you haven’t been mugged or had a pass made at you yet. I’m surprised the prostitution rings haven’t grabbed up your pretty face yet if you’ve come out here as often at you say.” Jongwoon tilts his head to a scantily clad woman standing near a brightly lit shop, ushering men in.
“I’ll take that as a compliment then, you’re quite handsome yourself. And it’s called the art of disguise.” Ryeowook nods at one of the Palace guards to gain entry, admiring his reflection in the distorted water of the river in front.
“So you were basically just shitting with me this morning when you insisted on wearing your full garb out?” Jongwoon lets himself lapse into language more fit for the slums than the Palace gates as they make their way to Ryeowook’s room.
“Maybe a little bit.” Ryeowook winks at him and hands the bag of silk off to one of the many attendants littering the halls. Jongwoon lets himself admire the architecture meanwhile, having not seen it properly in over ten years, and still finds himself in awe of the carved ceilings.
They walk in a relatively comfortable silence up the curving stairs until a hand unceremoniously yanks on the back of his hood, running ahead of him on the stairs like a blur. This has Jongwoon grabbing the tail Ryeowook’s sash as he falls backwards, and sends both of them tumbling back to the bottom of the long marble staircase.
Jongwoon’s head gives another poignant pound.
“What the hell Kibum?” Jongwoon is rather sure that Princes are not supposed to speak like that, and starts laughing. “And you, why are you laughing?”
“Sorry Wook, but father seems to be bent on getting me engaged again, and I need to get away before Jungsu catches up with me.” The so called second Prince, if Jongwoon recalls correctly, gives a salute and continues farther into the Palace.
Jongwoon just keeps on laughing and Ryeowook hits him on the chest. He just keeps grinning up at the smaller man until they’re nearly inches apart, eyes sparkling much as they did that morning at breakfast.
Jongwoon’s smile turns questioning as the Prince smirks, and he’s sure he’s about to be kissed when there’s a sandal hitting the ground dangerously close to his head.
“Park Jungsu, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Jongwoon smirks up at the exasperated looking man, arms still wrapped tightly around the Prince’s waist. Jungsu on the other hand, looks about ready to explode.
“Jongwoon, what are you doing in the Palace? I thought I’d never have to see you again after bailing you out last time.” Jungsu’s eyes cut to the stairs and he sighs, probably noting the absence of the younger Prince. “Care to explain why you are here with the Prince in your arms? Or should I just call the guard now?”
“Well I guess we can skip the introductions as you seem to know each other already, but this is my new bodyguard, Kim Jongwoon, Jongwoon, head advisor to my father, Park Jungsu. Just like you and father wanted Jungsu.” Jungsu stands there slack jawed for a moment and Jongwoon finds it amusing that his friend of so many words is speechless for once.
“Oh come now Jungsu, won’t you look forward to seeing me everyday again?” Jongwoon frowns as the Prince disentangles himself from him, their necklaces intermingling for a moment before separating completely. Jungsu, meanwhile, steadfastly ignores him.
“And I’m assuming you know what he is then Your Highness? A no good crook who works for the black market?” Ryeowook hears a muttered ‘I take offence to that’ from his right and ignores it.
“All the better, we have guarantee that he’s skillful then.” Ryeowook glares at the older man, adjusting his robes as he turns to the staircase. “Now if you’ll excuse me Jungsu, I’ve been out all morning running around the market and I find myself in need of a rest.”
Jongwoon waves at Jungsu as he follows the Prince up the stairs, smirking at the other’s glare. Ryeowook throws one remark over his shoulder as he reaches the top of the staircase. “And if you’re looking for Kibum, try the terrace.”
Jungsu nods, grimace still on his face, and he darts past them on the stairway and goes off in search of the wayward second Prince. Ryeowook laughs and turns to the direction of the west wing. Jongwoon looks to the artwork on the walls before Ryeowook speaks up.
“So why is it that you know our dear advisor?” Ryeowook continues down the hall as he raises a questioning eyebrow at Jongwoon, eyes still on the various portraits.
“We grew up together in a manner of speaking, poor little street orphans and all that. Last time someone was out for my head, he owed me a favor.” Jongwoon looks down at his boots, smirking at the memory of having straight laced Jungsu owe up to that one. “That’s all there is to it really.”
Ryeowook snorts. “Somehow I doubt that. But if that’s all you want to say, fine then, I’m sure you’ll tell me eventually.”
“Maybe.” Jongwoon smirks, opening the door for Ryeowook. “I don’t usually make a habit of divulging my skeletons to my employers though.”
Ryeowook hums as he starts taking off his finery. “How about your lovers then?” He throws Jongwoon a coy look over his shoulder as the older man raises an eyebrow.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you coming on to me Your Highness?” Ryeowook gives him a shrug as he sits back on the bed, sash slowly coming from his waist.
“Maybe. I don’t make a habit of bedding my employees though.” Ryeowook grins at him at flipping his own words back at him. “But for you, I could make an exception.”
“Would that make me a glorified whore then? You are paying me after all.” Jongwoon says as he steps over to the bed. “And you’ve known me what, all of a day? How do you know I won’t slit your throat in your sleep?”
“If that’s how you’d like to see it. And I’ve been watching you for a long time now Jongwoon, I trust you enough.” Ryeowook grins at him as he sits next to him. “Now are you taking me up on my offer or not?”
Jongwoon decides to throw caution to the wind, along with the fact that he is planning to sleep with the first Prince of their Country, and leans over to kiss him full on the lips.
He can taste the mint on Ryeowook’s lips from their morning tea and grins at the whine that escapes when he bites lightly on his plump lower lip as Ryeowook grips the edges of his vest, pulling him back onto the bed. Which, Jongwoon notes, is just as soft and posh as it looks.
Jongwoon grins at how the Prince’s breath catches as he kisses a path along his jaw, coming out as a hiss as he takes the golden stud on his ear into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing the lobe.
“Just get on with it already!” Ryeowook pants out as Jongwoon kisses a path down his neck, the same that his necklaces usually follow, before laying a bite at the base. Ryeowook hisses again and pulls his knee between Jongwoon’s legs, putting light pressure there and earning a groan for his trouble.
.
“Well if that’s how you want to play it then Highness.” Jongwoon punctuates that statement with a roll of his hips, Ryeowook’s bangles jingling together as Jongwoon pins his arms above his head.
“Now I don’t suppose you have any ready supplies Wookie?” His eyes flash at the new nickname, and there’s a mumbled answer under a groan with another roll of his hips. “What? I didn’t quite catch that.”
“It’s in the first drawer on the right.” Ryeowook grits out as Jongwoon kisses lightly around his eyes, smudging the kohl at the ends of them.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ryeowook pops the buttons on his own vest as he watches Jongwoon search the drawers, and yanks him back by his hood once he notices the tube in his hands.
“I really need more cloaks without hoods.” Jongwoon mutters to himself as Ryeowook sets about removing the rest of his clothes, and watches him admiring the newly bared tan skin, hands tracing a path from his chest to his stomach.
“And how do I rank on Your Highness’s list of lovers?” Jongwoon smirks at the slightly glazed over look in the Prince’s eyes, hair disorderly and make up smudged down his face. Looking more beautiful than Jongwoon has ever seen him.
“If you would just get on with it, then I would know wouldn’t I?” Ryeowook snaps out of his stupor to glare at him, and Jongwoon merely grins in return.
“Well we must do what his highness wishes now don’t we?” And Jongwoon watches Ryeowook’s face go through a myriad of expressions, lips clenched between his teeth and nails digging little half moons into Jongwoon’s back, to when his eyes widen and he’s gritting his teeth for another reason entirely.
Ryeowook’s bracelets are cool to his skin as they move up and down the Prince’s arms when he rocks upward, face buried in Jongwoon’s neck as he murmurs senseless pleas into it, and leaves a hard bite when it all becomes too much, the world turning on it’s axis before standing still again.
Jongwoon puffs light breaths of air into his ear and it nearly makes him groan all over again.
“So? How does His Royal Highness rate me?” Jongwoon teases as he pulls Ryeowook flush against his chest, tangling their legs together.
“Just shut up and go to sleep, there’s at least six more hours before dinner.” Ryeowook mumbles into the pillow; and Jongwoon chuckles. He feels the call of sleep though, and lets himself fall victim to it, lightly dozing into the back of Ryeowook’s neck.
In exactly five and a half hours they wake up to absolute chaos. But for the five the peace and silence last, it’s perfect.
....
Most of my food, dress, etc, are based on Morocco. For example, Harira is a thick soup that can be served for breakfast.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and comments are love~~~
…
Jongwoon’s life is turned upside down, dowsed in kerosene and set on fire.
At least, that’s what it feels like; sitting in the palace kitchen of all places with a cute little immigrant talking a mile a minute and shoving a bowl of harira in his face.
Yesterday he woke up on his own apartment rug with hardly a penny to his name and the smell of a job in the air. This morning he wakes up next to posh sheets, an angry guard on his back, and a strange smirking Prince. He figures those idiots from the Market have probably figured out that he isn’t coming at this point, and there will be definite repercussions. To top it all off, he has a splitting headache.
He rubs his temples as he tries to sort through the mess that is his thought process. “Excuse me, not to be rude or anything, but would you please shut up? It feels like I have a hangover. That bloody guard hits hard.” The kid blinks for a moment before happily chirping about ‘His Min not knowing his own strength.’
Jongwoon groans aloud, lays his head on his arms and starts seriously considering throwing himself out the window when the object of his headache walks in the room.
“Good morning bodyguard.” The Prince sing songs, fresh layer of kohl surrounding his eyes and ever present jewelry clinking against each other. “Not reconsidering your job offer I hope?” His eyes are gleaming as he sits across from Jongwoon, and a warm cup of jasmine tea is set in front of him by Henry.
Jongwoon grunts and Ryeowook seems to take it as a yes. “Good, because if you hadn’t then I’m afraid I’d have to kill you. Trespassing and plans to kidnap are a crime you know.” Ryeowook leans across the table to look Jongwoon in the eyes. “Still having second thoughts now?”
“Never Highness, you’ve practically offered me a King’s ransom for this job of yours. My services go to the highest bidder.” He punctuates the sentence with a smile, eyes crinkling up even as the corners of his mouth barely twitch downwards. There seems to be no easy way out of either end of his agreements.
“Fantastic. Let’s get started then, I can’t wait around all day for you to finish eating.” Jongwoon is a bit taken aback by this side of the Prince, having only seen the sweet and agreeable Prince of meetings and years ago.
“Well someone’s certainly agreeable this morning.” Jongwoon swallows one last gulp of tea before stretching and popping his shoulder. “But you’re neglecting one crucial fact Highness. I have no tools; all of my weapons of sorts are stored in my shop. So if you want me to be of any use at all, then I suggest you let me go get them.”
Ryeowook snorts, and Jongwoon feels his head pound again. “Sungmin has an armory that would make whatever you have look like child’s play, but if you feel you must. I could probably use a trip to the market anyway; I’m running low on silk.”
Jongwoon raises an eyebrow, Prince still inches from his face. “I didn’t know we had royalty gracing our simple shops. And it’s the black market I need to go to Highness, but if you still feel you need to tag along, I’m not stopping you.”
“Of course I’m coming along, you’re in my employment now if you recall. How am I to know I won’t be kidnapped again while you’re off sorting your affairs?” Ryeowook blows lightly on the bangs covering Jongwoon’s forehead and he feels vaguely patronized, Prince or not he’s still the elder of the two.
“Well assuming you have other things to do today, we’d best head out now. You may want to take off some of those bracelets though, unless you have an interest in being mugged.” Jongwoon gestures at the lines of gold up the Prince’s arms, and Ryeowook scoffs.
“They stay, and it’s your job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Jongwoon’s head feels like it’s about to explode. “And you’re right; I do have other things to do today. Henry, please tell my father I’ve got some business to take care of in the city.” The boy nods and scampers off out the kitchen doors.
“Well your Royal Bratiness, after you then.” Jongwoon holds his hand out as he opens the door, and to his surprise Ryeowook laughs.
“Not many people are willing to talk to me like that. Yes, I think I like you.” His answer leaves Jongwoon furrowing his brows, but before he can reply the Prince is already out the door and walking down the hall, red sash swishing behind him.
“Confusing bastard.” Jongwoon mutters, following behind at a slightly slower pace.
“What was that?” Ryeowook turns and grins as they make their way out of the palace walls, desert sun shining brightly above the buildings. “Did you say something Jongwoon?”
“Not a thing Highness, you must be hearing things.” He gets the pleasure of hearing Ryeowook’s laughter again as the other punches him on the shoulder.
“If you say so. And don’t call me Highness in public; I don’t need anymore attention drawn to myself.” Jongwoon snorts at this, ushering Ryeowook through the alleys in an attempted short cut to the market. It really wouldn’t do if someone were to recognize the Prince, or if he was noticed. News travels fast on the darker side of the law, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the insurgents already had a bounty out on his head.
“So says the one who refused to take off his finery. Fine then Ryeowookie, but can we at least hurry the pace? I’m a bit more worried for my safety than yours at the moment.” Jongwoon side eyes a notice board to his right and sighs as he notices his name and a dollar amount pasted next to it. It really is a marvel how news gets around so quickly.
Jongwoon grimaces as they finally make it to the section of the slums where he set up temporary housing, or what used to be temporary housing, as there are large tendrils of smoke rising from his apartment. Ryeowook pauses in his bickering and sighs.
“I suppose that was your house that’s a pile of ash over there?” Ryeowook surveys the damage over his shoulder, eyebrows knitted together.
“Keyword being was. And from the looks of it, even if I had managed to successfully do my ‘job’ they would have killed me anyway.” Jongwoon kicks a charred board down to enter the ruins of the apartment, picking through the charred rugs and chests for any surviving material.
“Well aren’t you lucky that I decided to keep you then? And you seem rather unconcerned by this.” Ryeowook finds a curved knife under what was presumably a floor at one point, to have it snatched out of his hands by Jongwoon.
“Yes, yes, I’m so happy you’re concerned for my well being.” He pushes Ryeowook out the opening in the wall, what could have been a door, and off to the more legal side of town. “And when it’s happened three or four times you start getting used to it.”
“I wasn’t aware I was hiring such a well known criminal, I should hope that you’re at least good at your job.” Jongwoon continues pushing the Prince down the various alleys until they come to an open section of the market, people milling about and loud haggling all around.
“Too good unfortunately. But if I’m to be in your service, I’m going to assume they’d have a bit harder time burning down the palace.” Ryeowook snorts at this and leads Jongwoon over to a stall run by a woman with long hair and begins looking over the many colorful fabrics offered. “And if you could hurry it up a bit? Let’s just get out of here; it’s a bit early to be flaunting my still living body around.”
“As I keep reminding you, it’s your job to keep us alive.” Ryeowook finally decides on a long piece of purple silk, lightly embroidered on the bottom, before paying and letting Jongwoon drag him out of the stall.
“And it’s amazing you haven’t been mugged or had a pass made at you yet. I’m surprised the prostitution rings haven’t grabbed up your pretty face yet if you’ve come out here as often at you say.” Jongwoon tilts his head to a scantily clad woman standing near a brightly lit shop, ushering men in.
“I’ll take that as a compliment then, you’re quite handsome yourself. And it’s called the art of disguise.” Ryeowook nods at one of the Palace guards to gain entry, admiring his reflection in the distorted water of the river in front.
“So you were basically just shitting with me this morning when you insisted on wearing your full garb out?” Jongwoon lets himself lapse into language more fit for the slums than the Palace gates as they make their way to Ryeowook’s room.
“Maybe a little bit.” Ryeowook winks at him and hands the bag of silk off to one of the many attendants littering the halls. Jongwoon lets himself admire the architecture meanwhile, having not seen it properly in over ten years, and still finds himself in awe of the carved ceilings.
They walk in a relatively comfortable silence up the curving stairs until a hand unceremoniously yanks on the back of his hood, running ahead of him on the stairs like a blur. This has Jongwoon grabbing the tail Ryeowook’s sash as he falls backwards, and sends both of them tumbling back to the bottom of the long marble staircase.
Jongwoon’s head gives another poignant pound.
“What the hell Kibum?” Jongwoon is rather sure that Princes are not supposed to speak like that, and starts laughing. “And you, why are you laughing?”
“Sorry Wook, but father seems to be bent on getting me engaged again, and I need to get away before Jungsu catches up with me.” The so called second Prince, if Jongwoon recalls correctly, gives a salute and continues farther into the Palace.
Jongwoon just keeps on laughing and Ryeowook hits him on the chest. He just keeps grinning up at the smaller man until they’re nearly inches apart, eyes sparkling much as they did that morning at breakfast.
Jongwoon’s smile turns questioning as the Prince smirks, and he’s sure he’s about to be kissed when there’s a sandal hitting the ground dangerously close to his head.
“Park Jungsu, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Jongwoon smirks up at the exasperated looking man, arms still wrapped tightly around the Prince’s waist. Jungsu on the other hand, looks about ready to explode.
“Jongwoon, what are you doing in the Palace? I thought I’d never have to see you again after bailing you out last time.” Jungsu’s eyes cut to the stairs and he sighs, probably noting the absence of the younger Prince. “Care to explain why you are here with the Prince in your arms? Or should I just call the guard now?”
“Well I guess we can skip the introductions as you seem to know each other already, but this is my new bodyguard, Kim Jongwoon, Jongwoon, head advisor to my father, Park Jungsu. Just like you and father wanted Jungsu.” Jungsu stands there slack jawed for a moment and Jongwoon finds it amusing that his friend of so many words is speechless for once.
“Oh come now Jungsu, won’t you look forward to seeing me everyday again?” Jongwoon frowns as the Prince disentangles himself from him, their necklaces intermingling for a moment before separating completely. Jungsu, meanwhile, steadfastly ignores him.
“And I’m assuming you know what he is then Your Highness? A no good crook who works for the black market?” Ryeowook hears a muttered ‘I take offence to that’ from his right and ignores it.
“All the better, we have guarantee that he’s skillful then.” Ryeowook glares at the older man, adjusting his robes as he turns to the staircase. “Now if you’ll excuse me Jungsu, I’ve been out all morning running around the market and I find myself in need of a rest.”
Jongwoon waves at Jungsu as he follows the Prince up the stairs, smirking at the other’s glare. Ryeowook throws one remark over his shoulder as he reaches the top of the staircase. “And if you’re looking for Kibum, try the terrace.”
Jungsu nods, grimace still on his face, and he darts past them on the stairway and goes off in search of the wayward second Prince. Ryeowook laughs and turns to the direction of the west wing. Jongwoon looks to the artwork on the walls before Ryeowook speaks up.
“So why is it that you know our dear advisor?” Ryeowook continues down the hall as he raises a questioning eyebrow at Jongwoon, eyes still on the various portraits.
“We grew up together in a manner of speaking, poor little street orphans and all that. Last time someone was out for my head, he owed me a favor.” Jongwoon looks down at his boots, smirking at the memory of having straight laced Jungsu owe up to that one. “That’s all there is to it really.”
Ryeowook snorts. “Somehow I doubt that. But if that’s all you want to say, fine then, I’m sure you’ll tell me eventually.”
“Maybe.” Jongwoon smirks, opening the door for Ryeowook. “I don’t usually make a habit of divulging my skeletons to my employers though.”
Ryeowook hums as he starts taking off his finery. “How about your lovers then?” He throws Jongwoon a coy look over his shoulder as the older man raises an eyebrow.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you coming on to me Your Highness?” Ryeowook gives him a shrug as he sits back on the bed, sash slowly coming from his waist.
“Maybe. I don’t make a habit of bedding my employees though.” Ryeowook grins at him at flipping his own words back at him. “But for you, I could make an exception.”
“Would that make me a glorified whore then? You are paying me after all.” Jongwoon says as he steps over to the bed. “And you’ve known me what, all of a day? How do you know I won’t slit your throat in your sleep?”
“If that’s how you’d like to see it. And I’ve been watching you for a long time now Jongwoon, I trust you enough.” Ryeowook grins at him as he sits next to him. “Now are you taking me up on my offer or not?”
Jongwoon decides to throw caution to the wind, along with the fact that he is planning to sleep with the first Prince of their Country, and leans over to kiss him full on the lips.
He can taste the mint on Ryeowook’s lips from their morning tea and grins at the whine that escapes when he bites lightly on his plump lower lip as Ryeowook grips the edges of his vest, pulling him back onto the bed. Which, Jongwoon notes, is just as soft and posh as it looks.
Jongwoon grins at how the Prince’s breath catches as he kisses a path along his jaw, coming out as a hiss as he takes the golden stud on his ear into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing the lobe.
“Just get on with it already!” Ryeowook pants out as Jongwoon kisses a path down his neck, the same that his necklaces usually follow, before laying a bite at the base. Ryeowook hisses again and pulls his knee between Jongwoon’s legs, putting light pressure there and earning a groan for his trouble.
.
“Well if that’s how you want to play it then Highness.” Jongwoon punctuates that statement with a roll of his hips, Ryeowook’s bangles jingling together as Jongwoon pins his arms above his head.
“Now I don’t suppose you have any ready supplies Wookie?” His eyes flash at the new nickname, and there’s a mumbled answer under a groan with another roll of his hips. “What? I didn’t quite catch that.”
“It’s in the first drawer on the right.” Ryeowook grits out as Jongwoon kisses lightly around his eyes, smudging the kohl at the ends of them.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ryeowook pops the buttons on his own vest as he watches Jongwoon search the drawers, and yanks him back by his hood once he notices the tube in his hands.
“I really need more cloaks without hoods.” Jongwoon mutters to himself as Ryeowook sets about removing the rest of his clothes, and watches him admiring the newly bared tan skin, hands tracing a path from his chest to his stomach.
“And how do I rank on Your Highness’s list of lovers?” Jongwoon smirks at the slightly glazed over look in the Prince’s eyes, hair disorderly and make up smudged down his face. Looking more beautiful than Jongwoon has ever seen him.
“If you would just get on with it, then I would know wouldn’t I?” Ryeowook snaps out of his stupor to glare at him, and Jongwoon merely grins in return.
“Well we must do what his highness wishes now don’t we?” And Jongwoon watches Ryeowook’s face go through a myriad of expressions, lips clenched between his teeth and nails digging little half moons into Jongwoon’s back, to when his eyes widen and he’s gritting his teeth for another reason entirely.
Ryeowook’s bracelets are cool to his skin as they move up and down the Prince’s arms when he rocks upward, face buried in Jongwoon’s neck as he murmurs senseless pleas into it, and leaves a hard bite when it all becomes too much, the world turning on it’s axis before standing still again.
Jongwoon puffs light breaths of air into his ear and it nearly makes him groan all over again.
“So? How does His Royal Highness rate me?” Jongwoon teases as he pulls Ryeowook flush against his chest, tangling their legs together.
“Just shut up and go to sleep, there’s at least six more hours before dinner.” Ryeowook mumbles into the pillow; and Jongwoon chuckles. He feels the call of sleep though, and lets himself fall victim to it, lightly dozing into the back of Ryeowook’s neck.
In exactly five and a half hours they wake up to absolute chaos. But for the five the peace and silence last, it’s perfect.
....
Most of my food, dress, etc, are based on Morocco. For example, Harira is a thick soup that can be served for breakfast.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and comments are love~~~