
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7041067.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character
      Death
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Min_Yoongi_|_Suga/Park_Jimin, Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster/Kim_Seokjin_|
      Jin, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope/Park_Jimin, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim_Taehyung_|_V
  Character:
      Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Park_Jimin_(BTS), Jeon_Jungkook, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope,
      Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Kim_Taehyung_|_V
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Medieval, Kings_&_Queens, Anal_Sex, Sexual_Abuse,
      Angst, Smoking, Breathplay, Master/Pet, Fluff, very_slow_build, Minor
      Character_Death, Homophobic_Language, Implied/Referenced_Suicide,
      Unhealthy_Relationships, Past_Prostitution, Slow_beginning
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-05-31 Updated: 2016-08-14 Chapters: 29/? Words: 40280
****** Royals and Roses (***HIATUS***) ******
by butterfliesforbts_(JuliaClaireLove)
Summary
     We are but mere pawns in Fate's twisted game of life, and her sister
     Destiny is folding the cards.
     or a medieval AU where Yoongi has daddy issues, Jimin doesn't believe
     in love, Namjoon has doubts about himself and his arranged marriage
     to Seokjin, Hoseok isn't what he seems, Jungkook is a wild card and
     Taehyung is a broken healer.
     ***moved back to a single work (previously known as Suit of Clubs:
     Breathe Me In)
***** Ace of Clubs *****
Yoongi loved running down to the river. It was far from the stifling air of the
palace and the arid smoke that lingered about the village. Even better, his
little area of the waters was secluded, a bend in the river where the grassy
fields met the forest, where the rapids slowed to a pleasant current, and there
was just enough shade from the trees. It was his own place.
Being the crown prince, he never had any privacy. Whether his tutor with the
drone of a bumblebee, his father always breathing down his neck, his doting
mother, or that wretched nanny, there was always someone invading his space. No
doubt his mother meant well, but his father would never shut up about his
"duties as future king." As for the nanny, Yoongi was indignant at the fact
that his parents thought he needed one. He was eleven, for god's sake!
Nonetheless, it was easy enough to pay one of the peasant kids to wear his
cloak and cause some havoc in the streets for a bit. Just so he could have some
peace and quiet.
And peace and quiet he had. Yoongi undid his belt and removed his outer shirt,
shoes, and leggings, leaving him in his tunic. It was a nice day outside; the
sun was not yet at its peak, but it's warm rays permeated the air. A slight
breeze wafted through the trees, mussing Yoongi's platinum blond hair. He sat
on a small outcropping that jutted out from underneath the largest tree. His
legs swung below him, the tips of his toes just brushing the surface of the
water. Yoongi closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.
The serenity of the moment was cut by the rustling of feet. Yoongi blinked in
the sunlight and found his gaze drawn towards a small boy barreling down the
hillside. He watched as the boy slipped on a patch of grass and slid into the
water. Yoongi scrambled to his feet and ran over to the boy, lifting him up as
he yelped and thrashed in the water. Despite this, Yoongi managed to get the
boy onto the riverbank, if not sopping wet.
"God, kid!" Yoongi admonished, "you could have drowned!"
"But I didn't!" The boy flashed a toothy grin (that was missing a few teeth),
tousling his mop of black hair.
From afar, Yoongi didn't notice how scrawny the kid was. His limbs were stick-
thin, and his face would be gaunt if not for the baby fat still clinging to his
cheeks. His aforementioned mop of hair was indeed a mop, it looked greasy and
matted, and his face was coated with a layer of grime. He was clothed in a sack
with ragged holes cut for the arms and head. The boy was definitely a peasant.
The boy wrung out as much of the water as he could from his clothes, then stuck
out his hand to Yoongi. "I'm Jimin." His bright brown eyes disappeared into
lines as he smiled up at him.
"Yoongi," he replied, shaking the hand.
"I knew that," the boy, Jimin, quipped. "You've got the weird hair thing going
on."
Oh right, Yoongi thought. The royal family all sported the white-blond hair
that made them noticeable to all around them. It was quite a contrast from the
black-brown hair of their people, Yoongi noted, as Jimin splashed his face in
the river.
"What are you doing here?" Yoongi prompted. He was curious. Why was a peasant
boy barging in on his private place?
Jimin stood, looking over the vast expanse of forest, with much more depth in
his gaze than a boy his age would. "Oh, I found this place awhile ago. Whenever
Mama told me to go away, I'd come here."
"Told you to go away?"
"Yeah, whenever Mr. Cheong comes to our room, she tells me to go away, so I
leave through the window. Once, I didn't go fast enough, and a weird man came
in. I hid in the closet, and there were a lot of weird noises."
"Oh." Realization settled on Yoongi. Jimin's mother worked in Cheong Junseo's
brothel. He'd heard his father talking about it with his advisers before.
"Yeah. I don't have many friends at home, because all the kids are younger than
me, but it's okay. I like being down here more." Jimin glanced at Yoongi with a
playful grin in his eyes. "What do you do in your free time, Yoongi-hyung?"
Yoongi almost flinches at the honorific. He'd never been called that before,
and it felt odd. "Not much. Anyway, I don't think you'd find it interesting."
"Please, I'm eight! I'm sure I can understand," Jimin followed Yoongi back to
the outcropping, sitting down next to him, crisscross applesauce.
Yoongi sighed. He never would get rid of this kid. "Well, I read. I practice
sword fighting, but honestly, I hate that. I like to go down to the cathedral
and listen to the choir--"
"Really?!" Jimin perks up. "I sing in the choir!"
"You do?"
"Well, whenever I can get away from the house. The choir director, Kunwoo-nim,
likes me. Sometimes he helps me sing by myself." Jimin beams. "Anyway,
continue."
Yoongi groans internally. "There's not much else. I don't really do anything
interesting."
"Well that's boring."
"You think?"
***** Two of Clubs *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It had been awhile since Yoongi had ventured outside the palace. Since his
father's death and his own coronation, there's simply been too much to do. His
advisers hounded him, convinced that twenty one was much too young to run the
kingdom. Yoongi had shut them all up quickly, and had been running it
practically by himself for two years.
After being in the palace for such a long time, Yoongi decided to visit his
people. He had turned down the royal carriage and garb, opting for a simple
tunic and leggings and his worn boots, with only a gold pin signifying his
rank. His snow-white hair made him stand out enough.
Yoongi was pleasantly surprised with what he found. Children ran up to him as
he exited the palace gates. Their faces were full and they were clothed well,
and their parents smiled from their homes and shops. Yoongi's new policies and
law enforcement kept the economy strong and the society wholesome. He'd
purchased a small loaf of bread from the baker and shared it with the children
that tagged along his side. The smoky fires were redirected straight to the sky
with newly installed chimneys, and Yoongi contentedly breathed the fresher air.
This was nice.
The pleasant air dropped as Yoongi approached a different corner of town. The
kids ran back to their parents, and the atmosphere was considerably more
sinister.
These were the slums of the town, which, sadly, Yoongi had not come around to
renovating yet. His bodyguards came closer to his sides as Yoongi walked down
the street. Faces stared at him through doorways and windows, dirty,
melancholy, and empty. What little children he saw were thin and gaunt, unlike
the smiling kids he'd been socializing with moments ago. Yoongi breathed
shakily as he continued further in. As he passed a small alley between two
buildings, grunts and pained whimpers met his ear. Yoongi halted and peered
into the shadowy place. There were harsh mutters and figures rushed past him
into the street. Yoongi's bodyguard grabbed his wrist, but Yoongi took no heed
and stepped inside. There was a small form huddled on the ground. It was a man,
albeit a man who looked barely out of his teens. His tunic was ripped, and
pushed up, exposing his thighs. Yoongi didn't want to think about what the men
that had passed him were up to just moments ago.
The man turned his head. Deep brown eyes beneath heavy eyelids, full, pink
lips, and cheeks that held some small semblance of a full smile. The familiar
face made Yoongi feel eleven again. "Jimin?"
Jimin's dull eyes just barely held traces of recognition. "Yoongi-hyung?" he
rasped, his throat raw.
"Oh my god," Yoongi crouched, helping Jimin stand, and having him lean on his
shoulder. "Come on, I'm taking you back to the castle." Yoongi waved to one of
his bodyguards. "Send for the carriage!"
The royal carriage met them at the edge of the seedy neighbourhood, and Yoongi
practically lifted Jimin into the seat. Jimin seemed lighter than he had when
Yoongi pulled him out of the river so long ago, and Yoongi could feel every rib
against his hands. Jimin rested his head on Yoongi's shoulder, and Yoongi
draped his abandoned cloak over his trembling form. It was still late summer,
yet Jimin would not stop shivering.
As the carriage began to move, Yoongi turned so he was facing Jimin, and Jimin
shifted so his forehead rested on Yoongi's chest. "What were you doing there,
Jiminnie?"
Jimin huffed weakly. "What do you think?"
Yoongi sighed. "Why are you still at that terrible place? I told you, you could
come to the palace, bring your mo--"
"No." Jimin somehow began shaking even more, and drew the cloak tighter about
his shoulders. "I wouldn't want to just take charity from you. And what's it to
you? It's not like you've been there all this time. And my m--" Jimin choked,
and Yoongi felt tears dripping onto his shirt.
"Shh... Okay.. Okay, I'm sorry," he said, wrapping his arms around Jimin as he
cried.
When they reached the palace, Yoongi carried Jimin up to one of the guest rooms
in the highborn wing. It's near Yoongi's own chambers, so he feels safe with
Jimin there. He laid Jimin on the bed, and sent one of the maids for the palace
physician. When Yoongi returned his gaze to Jimin, he was sitting up, looking
about the room, still clutching the cloak between his fingers.
"Hyung.. I can't be here," Yoongi took in Jimin's panicked eyes as they flicked
across the room. "I don't... belong here."
Yoongi walked toward him. "Please, Jimin. Just for a bit. I couldn't live with
myself if I just let you go back there."
"You've been living with yourself pretty damn well for the past four years."
"Jimin.. I'm sorry, for that. I know it hurt and I know that you don't deserve
what I did to you, but, please. Just let me do what I can to try and make it up
to you." Yoongi sat down on the bed and finally got a good look at Jimin. His
once lively eyes were hollow and dull, and his cheeks were sunken in. His neck
was riddled with hickeys and marks, and a dark hand-shaped bruise that Yoongi
didn't want to think about. His skin was grimy and there were cuts peeking
through the holes in his tunic.
"Yoongi--"
He looked up, and found Jimin looking at him with sadness clouding his eyes.
"Please don't look at me like that. It makes me feel like a kicked puppy."
Yoongi nodded. He was about to speak, to ask more, when Taehyung, the
physician, arrived at the door. Yoongi stood outside for the examination, and
waited for Taehyung's report.
Taehyung returned about fifteen minutes with an unreadable expression.
"Well?" Yoongi inquired, impatient.
"Ah, there's no emergency injuries--" Yoongi breathed with relief, "--but my
two concerns are the fact that his throat is severely bruised, I suppose from
strangulation, and that there is evidence that someone forced themselves on him
multiple times." Yoongi's heart sank.
"Thank you, Tae." Taehyung returned to the infirmary, leaving Yoongi to ponder
the diagnosis. At this, rage and worry coursed through Yoongi's veins, and he
reentered the room.
He found Jimin in the bath. Yoongi supposed the physician had put some muscle
relaxants and topical pain relievers in the water, because Jimin's face looked
less pained, if not by a small margin. His eyes were closed, and the thick foam
of bubbles reached to just below the dip of his collarbone. It wasn't like the
two hadn't seen each other naked before, but Yoongi was thankful for the
bubbles. Jimin's hair was wet, and he had his arms draped on the sides of the
tub, his head lazily lolling behind him to rest on the edge of the porcelain
rim. This only accentuated the ring of bruises surrounding the column of his
neck.
Yoongi cleared his throat. "So... Do you want to talk about it?"
Chapter End Notes
     i have a habit of using poorly written cliffhangers. sorry
***** Three of Clubs *****
Yoongi was fifteen when he first saw Jimin cry. He was waiting by the river
with a sack full of berries stolen from the royal kitchens, waiting for Jimin
to meet him. They always had fun together. Yoongi would bring snacks, and a
little extra for Jimin to bring home to his mother. They would eat, and they
would play. No words could explain how Yoongi's heart filled with joy when he
saw Jimin bounding over the crest of the hill. He felt free with Jimin. No
classes to worry about, no condescending gazes from his father, no thick,
stifling royal clothes. Just the two boys, having fun.
It was Jimin who taught Yoongi how to climb a tree (though Yoongi could not
quite figure it out. The many bumps and scrapes along his arms and legs
attested to that). Yoongi taught Jimin how to swim in the river. Jimin had had
no qualms about splashing around nude, but the flustered Yoongi insisted on
bringing two extra sets of leggings to protect their modesty. Jimin had laughed
at him.
Jimin was always laughing or smiling, and in the rare moments that he wasn't,
there was an ever-present twinkle in his eye that Yoongi hoped would never
fade.
Except, one day, when it did.
Yoongi caught sight of his friend on the hill. The first thing he noticed was
how Jimin wasn't running, or skipping, or jumping. He was slowly walking along,
dragging his feet. As he came closer, Yoongi glimpsed a sheen of wetness on his
cheeks as the sun glinted off them. Yoongi left the berries and met Jimin at
the base of the hill, placing his hands on the younger's shoulders, staring
down at him with worry. Jimin's face was tilted down, and his long fringe fell
over his eyes.
"Jiminnie?"
Jimin slowly lifted his head. A bright red mark stood out against the pale skin
of his cheek, marring his youthful features. His left cheekbone was swollen,
and a deep purple bruise was just beginning to form. His eyes were puffy and
red. Yoongi saw a glaze of tears over his eyes before Jimin's face was buried
in his shoulder.
 
 
Yoongi was so close to barricading Jimin's door and windows and stationing ten
guards outside of each. Why couldn't he just rest for god's sake! The first
time, Jimin was found collapsed on the cobblestone walkway in the entrance of
the palace. The next, with his windows opened and dangling on a rope of
bedsheets halfway down the castle wall. And most recently, he was caught next
to a partly-cut hole in the hedge that surrounded the gardens.
Taehyung would admonish him, saying that his windpipe can't take the strain he
puts on it by moving around so often. Jimin never listened, obviously. He hated
being cooped up in the palace.
Yoongi was currently waiting in Jimin's room, with two plates of food, as Jimin
was in the infirmary with Taehyung (Tae was trying out a new type of steaming
therapy on Jimin, to help ease the roughness of his breathing). So Yoongi
waited patiently for Jimin to return.
He hadn't spoken to Jimin much since the day he brought him here. Jimin
seemed... Closed off. Like he had walls built around himself that didn't want
to come down. He hadn't revealed much the that day, either. After his initial
reactions dissipated, so did his emotional expressions. What little he said to
Yoongi came in short, clipped sentences, and they held almost no information at
all. All Yoongi could decipher was that Jimin was in the same business as his
mother. As for his mother, Jimin said little to none about her as well. His
eyes had welled up a bit, but nothing fell. Yoongi had never met her, but he
knew how much she meant to Jimin.
Yoongi's thoughts were interrupted when the bedroom door opened, and Jimin
walked in. Yoongi saw a flash of Taehyung's dirty-blond hair before the door
closed.
Yoongi patted the chair beside him. "I brought your food," he said, gesturing
to the plates laid out on the small table.
Jimin's face was unreadable. "Thank you." He sat, and began eating.
The silent tension wrapped around Yoongi's neck like a noose, and his appetite
disappeared. He sat there in silence as Jimin ate, for what seemed like endless
hours. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.
"Jimin, could you please talk to me? I can't stand this. We were such good
friends, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to visit, but please..." Yoongi's
small plea dangled off into the silence.
No answer.
Both sadness and indignity rose up inside Yoongi, and he was determined to sit
there until Jimin spoke to him. He'd follow him around, pester him, plead with
him--
"Tell me."
Yoongi was startled by Jimin's sudden words.
"How would you feel when one day, your best friend just disappears?"
Jimin's voice was harsh and bitter.
"You go down to the river, and, he's not there. You think 'Oh, maybe he's sick
or busy.' But no. He just disappeared."
His eyes were still trained on his half-eaten plate, and he nudges the food
around, getting more agitated as he speaks.
"No warning. Just gone." He finally lifted his eyes, his sad, dull brown gaze
suddenly piercingly sharp. "How would you feel when he doesn't come back for
four years? And then, four--" he stood and hurled his utensils at the table, "-
-fucking years later, he comes back. Acts all proper and gentlemanly," Jimin's
voice is hard and mocking. "And expects you to forgive him just like that?" He
snapped his fingers.
He bent down, and Yoongi could feel his hot, raggedy breaths against his face.
"Tell me. Hyung. Now does that sound fair to you?"
"Jimin, I'm sorry, I--"
"Sorry my fucking ass." Yoongi should have expected the hit, but he's still
taken aback when Jimin's hand slapped across his cheek. Yoongi pressed his hand
to it and winced.
Jimin was pacing now, anger clearly visible in his features and actions. He
points an accusing finger at the king. "You left me. You abandoned me. And you
want me to just forgive you? As if you just 'forgot?'"
Yoongi was ashamed that he was too afraid to answer.
Jimin shakes his head in disbelief. "I went through hell after you were gone.
You know? Those were the times when I needed you. Those were the times, when
your little royal powers could have done me some good."
Yoongi sat there, still frozen as Jimin turned his head and stormed out the
door.
***** Four of Clubs *****
Chapter Notes
     ***WARNING***
     The beginning section of this chapter contains a graphic depiction of
     rape. Read with caution, and if you may be triggered, just skip the
     italicized section.
As the sun fell to sleep below the horizon, its rays of light gradually dimmed,
bringing the darkness of night upon the village. Jimin cursed as he slipped
down the hill for what seemed like the millionth time. The grass was slippery
enough, but now he could barely see where he was stepping. By the time he had
reached the outskirts of the village, the quiet solemnity of night blanketed
the town. Well, solemn would not be the correct word to use... Here.
Jimin knew about the shady deals and happenings that occurred in his area of
town, most especially at nightfall. He passed from alleyways to behind posts to
alongside buildings, making sure to keep himself hidden. He'd heard stories of
people who'd been caught late at night. He didn't want to be one of them.
Something rustled from across the street. Jimin flinched and quickly ducked
into an alleyway. His heart was pounding in his chest, and anxiety built up in
his throat. He forced himself to take the quietest breaths he could, though his
body was begging to hyperventilate. Jimin felt as if he might pass out.
He sat down against the wall of the alleyway, slowly trying to calm his nerves
and breathing. He shut his eyes, and thought about what Yoongi-hyung had taught
him. Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, breathe out for eight.
In for four
Hold for seven
Out for eight
Four
Seven
Eight
Gradually, his pulse decreased, though his breathing would still become erratic
if he didn't pay attention. Deciding to wait for a bit, Jimin returned his mind
to Yoongi. He missed his hyung. A lot. It had been six weeks since they last
met at the river. Jimin had been there after the fact, but Yoongi never showed
up. His mother had tried to console him, but it didn't quite set in for Jimin
yet. Almost every day, he returned to the bend in the river, sat on the
outcropping beneath the tree, and waited. He waited for hours at a time. Mother
tried to tell him that Yoongi probably wouldn't be coming back, but Jimin could
not accept that.
His hyung wouldn't just.. Leave him like that.. Would he?
Today, Jimin had lost track of time. He had fallen asleep next to the
riverbank, the warm glow of the afternoon sun bathing his skin. But now, as the
cold chill of the incoming winter became more prominent, Jimin wished he'd worn
warmer clothes. He shivered.
His breathing finally stable, he decided it was time to go, and peeked out into
the street. By now, his eyes were somewhat adjusted, and he managed to pick out
the hut where he and the other children slept while the mothers worked.
The idea of his mother's work still left a sour taste in Jimin's mouth. He
loved his mom. She was still young and beautiful, only fourteen years his
senior, and he was saddened at the fact that this was the only way their little
family could eat. His mother could have done so much more, but Jimin knew that
it was because of his birth that she was shamed.
Jimin scanned the street one more time. He began to make his way into the
street, not noticing the figure behind him, that yanked him back into the
alleyway.
Jimin panicked, thrashing and screaming, but the arms holding him were strong,
and a dirty rag stuffed in his mouth muffled his voice. He found himself pushed
onto his back at the end of the alleyway, and the figure, the man above him,
had his legs and wrists pinned to the ground.
"Hey there, pretty boy," the man rasped. "What's a little doll like you doing
out here at night?"
Jimin struggled to release his limbs, but the man's grip was tight. He
protested against the gag, but the man took no heed to his noises.
One hand kept both of Jimin's immobile, while the other wandered down Jimin's
torso. The hem of his tunic was lifted, exposing his thin, bony chest. Jimin
felt a pinch at his nipple and yelped in distress. He heard a deep chuckle, and
felt the hand begin to undo the laces of his leggings. Jimin squeezed his eyes
shut and prayed, Please, please, God, no. His leggings were pulled down, and
Jimin felt a shudder as the hand wrapped around his cock. It stroked him, and
Jimin was disgusted to find himself reacting to the rough touch. He couldn't
hold back a moan as lips attached to his neck, sucking and nipping at the
sensitive spot just below his jawline.
"Yeah, you like that, you little whore, don't you?" Tears blurred Jimin's
vision as the man's words met his ears. His body was enjoying this torture.
Jimin fixed his eyes on the stars above him, praying that this would end soon.
He felt something curl in the base of his belly, the the hand was gone and
Jimin let out an involuntary whimper. His gaze remained on the sky, not wanting
to see the defilement of his body, not wanting to acknowledge it when--
"AUGH!" Jimin screamed against the gag as the man forced himself inside him. It
hurt. It hurt. It hurt! It was a sharp, burning pain, that never seemed to end,
as the man began thrusting against him. Filthy sounds of skin hitting skin
echoed across the alleyway. Tears were streaming down Jimin's face now, and he
could hear the man grunting against his ear. The pain seemed to go on for
hours.
Suddenly, the man groaned, and Jimin felt something liquid shoot inside him.
The man stood and laced his pants. "Thanks for the fuck, whore."
Jimin just lay there as he walked away. He could feel the fluids seeping down
his thighs. Jimin spat out the gag, but couldn't find the strength to move
anymore. He just stared. Up at the stars. Up into oblivion.
Mother always told him never to stay out past dark.
Jimin was tired. He was always tired. The simple movements of getting up and
walking exhausted him. His throat burned after just minutes of mild aerobics.
Because of this, he had finally succumbed to Yoongi's pleading, staying within
the castle walls and abandoning his attempts to escape.
He was in the infirmary again, to undergo the steaming therapy Taehyung had
come up with. No matter how much Jimin would complain about the recurrent
hassle, it was no lie that it did to wonders to his hoarse throat. Taehyung was
preparing the blend of water and essences for the steaming as Jimin waited on
the cot.
It was such an odd feeling, to be doted on and cared for so diligently. The
last person to do so, was his mom.
Jimin breathed slowly. He knew that crying would cause his throat to choke up,
and Taehyung already had enough on his hands. He managed to calm down before
Taehyung walked over to him, the bowl of hot liquid sloshing around in his
hand. The bowl was set down next to Jimin on the cot. Careful hands examined
his neck, being careful to avoid the bruises, which were slowly healing.
Taehyung pressed a hollow cone to Jimin's chest, and listened to the sound of
his breathing.
Taehyung pulled back, satisfied. "Not too bad. You're healing pretty nicely."
He stirred the bowl one last time before handing it to Jimin. "We won't have to
go too long this time."
Jimin nodded, taking the bowl and hovering his face over it. He breathed
deeply, like Taehyung had instructed him to. The steam filled his lungs,
spreading a warm feeling through his body. It was soothing, and his throat did
feel considerably better.
"Don't you have any other patients?" Jimin inquires, still hunched over the
bowl. "It seems like all you do is take care of me."
Taehyung laughed. "I haven't had many patients since the new sanitation laws
were introduced, and since that new cook took over." He began fussing with the
many bottles and other bits lining his shelves. "You should have see what it
was like with the old one. Food poisoning everywhere!"
Jimin chuckled.
"And you're not the only cute boy I take care of," Taehyung teased.
"Oh, I thought I was special." It was sort of useless to fake-pout, as his head
was angled down, but Jimin did it anyway.
"Always the charmer." Taehyung giggled and leaned back against the wall. "His
name's Jungkook. He's an apprentice to the royal swordsmaker. Though,"
Taehyung, remembering something, went back to looking through the shelves,
"he's not quite good yet. He keeps coming back to our dorm with cuts and
scrapes everywhere." He picked out a clear vial and a roll of bandages and set
them aside. "Such an apprentice."
Jimin laughed. "Speaking of which, aren't you really young to be a physician?
You look as old as me."
"I probably am." Taehyung faced him. "My dad was the old physician, and I
helped him out all the time. He was trying to pick an apprentice, but he died
before he could."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. A little after Yoongi-hyung became king, he and the advisers
decided it would be fine if I took over. Especially with the whole food
poisoning thing." Taehyung chuckled to himself.
Jimin laughed softly as well, but he heard Taehyung hesitate. He knew of
Jimin's line of work, obviously, and probably didn't want to pry. Jimin was
thankful for that. There was a quiet pause.
"The water's cooled down," Jimin lifted his head, holding out the bowl to
Taehyung.
The physician took it, pouring the leftover contents into a bottle. He wiped
his hands on a cloth. "I'll take you back to your room, if that's alright."
"Okay."






"No, Hoseok. I can't do that."
"With all due respect, your Majesty, I truly believe that this is the best
option."
"Isolating my kingdom is the best option?"
"It's not isolation, just reinforcing the barriers. Your capital is
flourishing, but the outer cities are weak."
"Hoseok, I have been lenient with the border security near those towns because
I want to be open to other nations. Multiculturalism is what helps civilization
move forward."
"Your Majesty--"
Yoongi had enough. "Lord Hoseok, you are dismissed."
Hoseok bit back a snarky comment. "Yes, your Majesty." He bent stiffly and
left.
Yoongi huffed. Running a country was hard enough without his advisers breathing
down his neck. He stared down at his map of the area. It was engraved on a
raised stone platform, and was so large it took up a fairly sized portion of
the council room.
The frustrated king strode over to the balcony. He undid the top of his shirt,
freeing his neck and upper chest, and rested his hands on the edge of the
balcony. The brisk spring air nipped at his exposed skin, but he didn't care.
Yoongi was not a hot-blooded person; some would say he was the exact opposite,
one of the traits that made him an effective and likeable king. But god, his
advisers were fraying his nerves.
He looked out over the gardens of the palace. Dainty white buds were beginning
to bloom on the hedge, and the blossoms lining the pathways radiated beauty and
color.
Yoongi's mother was taking a walk there. She'd stop by a tree or flower now and
then, and admire. The sight left a pang in Yoongi's heart. He remembered when
his father first unveiled this project to her. It was a beautiful gift. But
now, it was the only thing that reminded her of her husband.
Yoongi sighed. His relationship with her was difficult, to say the least. She
always supported his father, even when she knew it was too much for the young
prince to handle. But she still loved him, and took care of him, and in return,
he had given her, what? Yoongi wanted to make it up to her, but he couldn't
quite figure out how.
The door opened. "Your Majesty?"
Yoongi turned. "Oh, Jimin."
"Your Majesty, I just wanted to apologize for snapping at you the other day.
I'm sincerely sorry." Jimin said softly, still hovering at the door.
"It's okay, Jimin-ah, I forgive you."
Jimin bowed. "Thank you, your Majesty." He began to close the door behind him.
"Jimin!" Yoongi called. Jimin paused for a moment. Yoongi continued, "Call me
'hyung,' okay?"
Jimin stayed still for a bit, but left, without an answer.
***** Five of Clubs *****
"Yoongi-hyung!"
Yoongi froze. He hid the bag of food he was holding under the loose fabric of
his cloak, and turned to face the speaker.
"Oh, hey there, Hobi." He breathed a sigh of relief.
"Whatcha doing there?" Hoseok inquired, looking over Yoongi's form where his
hands disappeared beneath his cloak, unusually draped over one shoulder.
Hoseok was far too curious, in Yoongi's opinion. "Ah, I'm just going for a
walk."
"Uh huh."
Hoseok was only a year younger than him, so it was reasonable for him to have
an idea of what Yoongi was up to.
He leaned in to Yoongi's ear. "Hyung, if you were going out to meet a secret
lover, you could just ask me. I know a place where you can have the best time
with anyone."
Yoongi flushed red. "I-I'll pass. Bye Hoseok." He walked away as quickly as he
could, holding his burning face down.
Yoongi didn't know how he'd ever be able to deal with Hoseok. He was the son of
his father's main adviser, and was being trained to be Yoongi's own when he
became king. God. Every decision he'd make would most likely be criticized by
Hoseok.
Yoongi shivered at the thought.
His face was still red with embarrassment from Hoseok's racy comment. It wasn't
as if he hadn't had thoughts like that before, he was eighteen, after all, but
he'd never had thoughts about Jimin.
Well, it was no lie that his best friend was exceptionally good-looking, and he
was so sweet and kind, with a big heart and such a cute smile and--
Yoongi immediately stopped his train of thought. He couldn't be thinking like
this now, not when he was going to meet said good-looking, kind best friend
with a cute smile.
Yoongi had to catch his breath as he caught a glimpse of Jimin sitting on the
outcropping. His feet were dangling in the water, and Yoongi could hear his
sweet lilting voice humming some church tune. As he drew closer, he could see
the afternoon sun creating a beautiful halo of light in Jimin's hair. Yoongi
tried to ignore the pulsation of his heart as Jimin's eyes lit up upon seeing
him.
"Yoongi-hyung!" Jimin smiled gleefully, throwing his arms around him. While he
was exceptionally talented at giving bear hugs, Yoongi could still feel the
apparent boniness of Jimin's arms.
"Jiminnie!" Yoongi breathed, hugging him back and apologizing profusely. "I'm
sorry I'm late, I was delayed by Hobi, I've told you how he is--"
"That's okay," Jimin said, pulling back. The sunbeams shining on them
transformed the warm brown of Jimin's irises to a brilliant gold. Yoongi had to
suppress an "awwe" as said eyes disappeared, as Jimin broke into a smile once
again. "You're here now."
Yoongi held his gaze, but when it felt like it had been going on for a moment
too long, he turned away, bringing out the bag tucked against his arm. "I
brought this for you and your mom."
Jimin took the bag and opened it. His eyes widened as he looked over the
contents. "Hyung, you didn't have to do this!"
Yoongi smiled as Jimin sat back down, picking up and examining every bit of
food: a few slices of beef wrapped in leaves, a full loaf of bread, two apples,
and a piece of (lightly crushed) cake. He took a seat next to him. "I wanted
to. Besides, there were a lot of leftovers from the party anyway."
Jimin glanced up playfully. "Party? But the only time you ever go to parties is
when--" His mouth gaped and he embraced Yoongi in another bone-crushing hug.
"Yoongi! You didn't tell me it was your birthday!"
"I sort of hoped you'd forget. I didn't want you to get me anything." Yoongi
blushed.
"You're insufferable." Jimin chuckled, ruffling his hair. He held his gaze once
again. "Thank you, hyung."
Yoongi patted Jimin's back. "My pleasure, Jiminnie." He tried desperately to
calm the fluttering in his stomach, but with Jimin there, looking at him so
sweetly, his best friend, the best person he'd ever met... It was no use.
Maybe Hoseok was right.









Jimin was startled by the sudden hustle and bustle of the castle. People that
he'd never seen before were suddenly materializing, scrubbing the floors,
dusting the floors, yelling across the halls, frantically brushing past him.
He found Taehyung in one of the halls, who started pushing him back towards his
room. "The nervous energy might make you hyper ventilate," he reasoned. There
was another person trailing behind Taehyung as he tugged Jimin up towards the
guest quarters. It wasn't until Jimin was safely on the bed did he get a proper
introduction.
Taehyung was examining Jimin's neck again before he suddenly stood upright. "Oh
I forgot!" He turned to the mystery boy. "Kookie, this is Jimin."
Jimin reached out and shook his hand. "Pleasure."
"And Jimin," Taehyung continued, "This is my boy, Jeongguk."
"Aish, Tae, I told you to stop calling me that." Jeongguk said, exasperated.
"I know," Taehyung singsonged, "but it's so cute when you get frustrated," he
giggled, nuzzling against his shoulder. Jeongguk nudged him away, aware of
Jimin's flushed face.
Jeongguk definitely looked like a swordsmaker. Muscles rippled under the skin
of his arms, and his broad shoulders dwarfed Taehyung's own wiry figure.
Although, his wide eyes and overall babyface made him look a bit like an
overgrown baby. Jimin stifled a laugh. He didn't dare to mention that; the guy
could probably snap him in half.
Jimin cleared his throat, not quite used to PDA. "If you don't mind me asking,
what's going on in the palace?" In the weeks that he'd been there, there had
never been such an influx of activity.
"The King of Sule is coming to visit for a council with Yoongi-hyung. He's
staying for a few days, so they want to make sure that the entire palace is as
clean as possible," Taehyung answered, still leaning against Jeongguk's
shoulder.
"Uh huh."
"Which is also probably why those are laid out for you," Taehyung said,
pointing at the clothes lying on the bed, which Jimin had not noticed.
"Oh," Jimin looked over the clothes. They looked like the royal garbs, much too
fancy for him.
"Jimin?" The three looked up. The door was ajar, and Yoongi was peeking in.
"Oh. Er, Jimin, get dressed and meet me in the throne room. You guys too," he
added quickly, before closing the door.
Jimin awkwardly lifted up one arm of the impossibly intricate shirt, and was
about to ask the two to leave before Yoongi interrupted again.
"Oh and Taehyung," he said, a frustrated look on his face, "please don't make
out with Jeongguk at the banquet."
"No promises," Taehyung snickered, before grabbing Jeongguk's face and kissing
him.
Yoongi let out a forceful sigh and left.
"Tae," Jeongguk broke the kiss, "we have to go."
Taehyung pouted, "Okay. Bye Jiminnie! See you at the banquet!"
Jimin saw an apologetic look cross Jeongguk's face before the couple
disappeared behind the door. He seemed like a nice guy. Jimin almost felt sorry
for him, with Taehyung's overexcitedness and inability to keep his hands off
him. But still, they were the nicest couple Jimin had ever met.
He got up, and began undoing the laces of his clothing. He averted his eyes
from the mirror; he knew he'd only see a discolored mess of a body. The black
leggings hugged his thighs but were surprisingly quite comfortable. It was an
odd feeling to slip into the red silk tunic, as it brushed along his skin with
a softness that he'd never felt before. He fastened the belt around his waist,
and finally pulled on the thick, ornate outer shirt. The interior was just as
soft as the tunic, and the exterior was a deep black velvet with red and gold
embroidery. It had a high collar that covered the bruises on his throat, which
Jimin was thankful for. He clasped the front of the shirt together and pinned
the cloak to the tops of his shoulders.
Jimin forced himself to look in the mirror. "Wow..."
He looked... Like a royal. The color scheme of crimson, black, and gold
complimented the paleness of his skin and brought out the warmth in his eyes.
He looked good. The only thing that could distinguish him from a real highborn
was the way that he held his head: bowed, like a peasant.
Why would Yoongi have him dress like this? Well, it was a royal banquet... But
why would Jimin be expected to be there? He wasn't a royal.
He continued to ponder over this for a few minutes. Maybe he shouldn't go.
Maybe he should just stay here, and eat his dinner in his room like normal.
His musings were cut short by a knock at the door and a familiar voice. "Jimin?
You ready?"
Jimin exhaled shakily. "Yes, your Majesty."
Jimin could almost feel the sadness that would cross Yoongi's features at
Jimin's use of the formal title. The door opened once again. Yoongi stood
there, looking as stunning as ever, in similar red, black, and gold attire,
accompanied by the pin with the Min family crest over his breast, and a simple
gold circlet atop his head, a ruby adorning the center. He held out his elbow
to Jimin, like a proper gentleman.
Jimin tried to ignore the heat that arose in his cheeks, and hesitantly took
Yoongi's arm.
"Let's go."
***** Six of Clubs *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Knock knock.
 
 
Jimin's chest would sink with dread every time a hard fist rapped against his
door. Then he'd sigh, open the door with a smile, and try his damned best to
look sexy. Soon after he'd been dragged into the business, he had learned that
responding and (God forbid) moaning made it more likely that he would be
treated like a human being (and hopefully given a tip), and less likely that
he'd get a beating later.
Uncomfortable, he tugged down the hem of his tunic, feeling much too exposed
without any leggings or undergarments beneath (his pimp never allowed him to
wear anything but a tunic when receiving customers; he believed that less
clothes made everything easier). He did the breathing exercise Yoongi taught
him, trying desperately to calm his beating heart, and twisted the door handle.
He forced his features to take on a face that hopefully looked willing and
sexy. Although, his front was a bit difficult to keep up as he looked over the
man before him.
He looked much younger than the usual customers that came to Jimin's door;
maybe just a few years older than Jimin himself. His face was elongated, with
high cheekbones and dark eyes that glimmered with mischief. A smirk was spread
over his mouth.
"Like what you see, gorgeous?"
Jimin was taken aback by the comment. He must have caught him gawking, though
the stranger seemed amused by his flustered appearance. Jimin managed to regain
his act.
"Of course," Jimin purred, placing his hands on the man's broad chest. He bit
his lip and looked up at him through hooded eyelids. "You wanna come inside?"
The man grinned, "Absolutely." In a second, the door was shut and his arm was
hooked around Jimin's waist. Lips attached to Jimin's neck, and a hand reached
down to grope his ass.
To Jimin's surprise, the pleasured groan that escaped it's mouth was as real as
they get. He tangled his fingers in the man's hair, his legs giving out from
beneath him as we was touched, stroked, and caressed in all the right ways.
Gentle nips at his jawline, a wandering hand along his side and waistline. He
gasped as he was pushed back, landing on his bed, with the stranger looming
over him, the curious look in his eyes never leaving Jimin's. Jimin squirmed
under his lecherous gaze, but felt an unfamiliar curl in his pelvis.
Usually, customers never paid attention to him, he could have been a ragdoll
for all they cared. But this one..
Jimin found himself reaching up of his own volition and pressing a deep kiss to
the other's mouth. Wet laps at his lips provoked Jimin to open his mouth,
feeling the foreign tongue exploring inside. A sudden hand palming Jimin's
member caused him to pull back, panting, saliva glossing his kiss-swollen lips.
He could feel the stranger smile against his skin, slowly kissing down his
neck, along his collarbone, removing his tunic before continuing down his
torso, stopping to lave at pebbled nipples. Red and purple marks were sucked
onto Jimin's slightly concave stomach, tongue lightly dancing over the gentle
dips of his ribs and hip bones.
Jimin couldn't stop the wanton noises leaving his lips. He felt the man start
to mouth at his growing erection. "Oh--ah.. Ah.. Sir.. I--"
He whined at the sudden loss of contact, but shivered when he met the dark eyes
of the stranger. Dangerous, but unbelievably alluring. "Call me Hope."
 
 
 
 
Seokjin knew that he was gripping Namjoon's arm a bit too tight, but he didn't
care. Though his husband had repeatedly assured him that the new King of Degue
was much more reasonable than his father, Seokjin still worried. He'd only met
the late King once, when he was but a prince. The King of Degue Seokjin knew
was harsh and cold, and, though he knew it was an incorrect assumption, that
was how he expected the rest of the kingdom's residents to be. He was aware of
the fact that his husband's kingdom was much more amiable with Degue than
Seokjin's home kingdom, but he couldn't help but worry.
The couple was greeted at the gate of the palace by a kind-looking gentleman,
shaking both their hands and ushering them inside. Namjoon kept up his smile as
they were paraded across the pathway, where the white-haired King stood at the
open door of the throne room.
"Ah, your Majesty," Namjoon bowed, his grin widening as his eyes twinkled
playfully.
"Your Highnesses," the King bowed back, smirking as he stood upright once
again. "Always a pleasure, Namjoon."
"Aish, Yoongi! You're still so stiff, loosen up a bit! It's a party, lighten
up," Namjoon teased, startling Seokjin with his informal words.
Yoongi only chuckled, "The party is just starting." He gestured for them to
follow him, leading them into the throne room. He halted suddenly, spinning.
"Oh, forgive me," he said, turning his gaze to Seokjin, "We've never been
formally introduced."
Namjoon rolled his eyes, "Ah, spare me the formalities."
"No, Namjoon, it's alright," Seokjin spoke softly. He shook Yoongi's
outstretched hand. "I'm Seokjin."
Yoongi held onto his hand for a moment, bending down to press a kiss to the
tops of his knuckles. "My pleasure, Seokjin."
"Aigoo, Yoongi, that's my husband you're kissing," Namjoon slapped a hand over
his heart in feigned pain.
Seokjin blushed. He didn't know how he ever got used to Namjoon's antics, but
he would admit that they were the main attribute of his adorable personality.
Yoongi smiled in acknowledgement of Seokjin's embarrassment. "Don't worry, I
got used to him a long time ago."
"And it's a miracle that you did," Seokjin quipped, glaring pointedly at his
husband.
Yoongi let out a good-natured laugh, bringing an arm around the two. "Alright
alright, let's go. The banquet is waiting."
 
Jimin squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. After grandly processing him through
the throne room and into the banquet hall, Yoongi had deposited him in the
chair right next to his, right next to the head of the table. Then he'd left,
to "greet the guests." Leaving Jimin alone in the vast dining hall, seated at a
long table that could seat fifty, staring at the unfamiliar ceramic plates and
sleek metal silverware. A cloth napkin folded in the shape of a swan was
perched atop his plate, delicate and graceful, one could almost disregard the
fact that it was just a piece of cloth. Much like Jimin himself. He felt like
he was wearing a costume instead of clothing, much too pretty and high-class
for Jimin's actual being. Once again, he was debating making a run for it,
while Yoongi was still gone.
A servant girl brushed past him, lighting the candles stationed periodically
across the table, and lowering her eyes when Jimin tried to smile at her.
It felt so wrong. In real life, that girl was most likely of a much higher
class, and had Jimin tried to smile at her on any other occasion, she probably
would have spit on him and treated him less than dirt. But here, wearing
clothes not of his own, appearing as a highborn, expected to be acting as a
highborn, he felt even more alien.
He'd made up his mind. He mentally apologized to Yoongi as he rose out of his
seat and made for the door. As he prepared himself to run, the door opened on
its own, and within stood three quite startled royals.
Jimin stood frozen, mortified.
"Ah, Jimin!" Yoongi said, quickly regaining his composed persona, sliding an
arm around Jimin's waist as he faced the other two. "Jimin, this is the King
and Queen of Sule, King Namjoon and Queen Seokjin."
Jimin bowed from the waist, "Y-Your Majesties."
Yoongi continued, "Namjoon, Seokjin, this is my--" his fleeting glance at
Jimin's face yielded nothing but red cheeks and a gaze glued to the floor,
"close friend Jimin."
"It's our pleasure, Jimin," the subtly frailer (and considerably more feminine)
royal gave a light nod of his head. Jimin suspected he was the "queen,"
Seokjin.
"Let's have a seat, yes?" Yoongi prompted, ushering the group over to the
table. Yoongi himself sat at the head, with Jimin at his left and Namjoon on
his right and Seokjin.
"How have you been, Yoongi-hyung?" Namjoon asked, "The last letter you sent me
was from before I became king!"
"Aside from the invitation for today," Seokjin corrected.
Yoongi grinned, "I've been well, thank you. There's just been quite a bit to do
around here. I've been pushing for some reforms, especially in the rural
villages. And, as a matter of fact, I was meaning to speak to you about
expanding the presence of other cultures in my cities."
"Oh, yes. Do continue."
 
 
As the two Kings descended into their conversation, Seokjin noticed the tight-
lipped manner of Yoongi's friend. Yoongi was quite warm and welcoming, he had
to admit, so he was mystified as to why his "friend" was so silent. Shouldn't
he at least be speaking to Yoongi?
"So, Jimin," he began, "How do you know Yoongi? It appears that you are quite
close."
Jimin's eyes widened, most likely surprised that Seokjin even spoke a word to
him. "I.. Ah, we met when we were much younger. We've practically grown up
together." Jimin smiled, but the subtly noticeable strain in his features did
not escape Seokjin's notice. "He's like a brother to me."
"Oh, that's nice. He seems like a very sweet man."
"Yes.. I rightly suppose that he is." Jimin took a sip from his cup of water,
setting it back down, and deciding to engage the conversation. "What about you,
your Majesty? How did you meet Namjoon-ssi?"
"Ah, Jimin, please call us hyung. I suspect we will be spending a lot of time
together in the coming days, and Namjoon himself isn't too fond of
formalities."
"Oh, sorry. Okay, Seokjin-ss.. Er.. Hyung," Jimin smiled sheepishly.
"It's alright, Jimin." Seokjin's kind warmth simply radiated across the table.
"As for us meeting, hmm. It was quite awkward at first, I must say. I'm the
youngest brother of the current king of Anune, I think it's the kingdom just
east of here. As youngest, I didn't really have much relevance in the Royal
life, so my parents decided to just marry me off."
"You had an arranged marriage?"
Seokjin was quick to change the odd expression that bloomed across Jimin's
features. "It wasn't as bad as you think. We met quite a couple times
beforehand, and made sure we could handle each other. It took me a bit longer
to get accustomed to him; he's always been a bit more outgoing and eccentric
than me--" the two shared a small chuckle, "--but it is quite safe to say that
I truly do love him."
Jimin smiled, almost wistfully. "Aw, that sounds nice."
"It is," Seokjin's fingers intertwined with his lover's.
Chapter End Notes
     Yaaaaa namjin has made an appearance!!!
***** Seven of Clubs *****
The ember at the end of Jimin's cigar brushed a red glow over his face. He knew
he shouldn't; his old choir teacher taught him long ago that he might as well
become mute should he ever smoke, but he didn't care. Jimin had snagged a stash
from one of the shadier businessmen in town, and taught himself how to roll
them into a little tube, lighting it up and taking a drag.
The hot air filled is lungs, but it wasn't the smooth comfort of a summer
breeze. It was gritty, and it bit into his throat, lungs, and nose as he
exhaled. But through coarse coughing fit, a haze of dizziness sprouted up from
the base of his skull; a slight hum that calmed his nerves and blurred the
edges of his vision. He took another drag, inhaling, then blowing a stream of
smoke away into the dusty sky.
What was he doing with his life? Sharing his bed with countless nameless,
faceless men, his body beaten and desecrated every single night. He knew he
would go crazy at some point, but what else could he do?
Jimin wondered if he could survive running away. It would be easy enough, just
"go for a walk" during the daytime, but who would take him in? Where would he
go? He was the illegitimate child of a dead prostitute, not to mention the fact
that he had taken on the same line of work. He was also one of the only boys in
the brothel, and the most attractive, which made him popular among the
customers. If he ran, he was sure least one of them would recognize him, and
he'd be renounced and shamed from the realms of both day and night.
Well, he could go to Yoongi. He knew that it would be quite strange for someone
like him to go waltzing up to the palace gates asking for the crown prince. But
he hoped his friend would recognize him, welcome him, take him in with open
arms.
But then again, he hadn't seen Yoongi in almost half a year. Jimin remembered
his anguished waiting, when fall turned to winter, and hell rose from the earth
and reigned over Jimin's life as the bitter cold cut through the air. Jimin
remembered all the nights he cried, wanting Yoongi, wanting his friend to come
comfort him. But now, Jimin could feel the changing of the seasons as time
lessened chill of winter, signaling the coming of spring.
It would be Yoongi's twentieth birthday soon. Jimin so wanted to celebrate with
him, to celebrate his coming-of-age, to celebrate this milestone together. But
he knew, that if things kept on they way they were going, with no contact or
spoken words between the two, this would be the first time in three years that
they would spend a birthday apart.
Jimin convinced himself that the sudden overflow of wetness in his eyes was
just a result of the acrid smoke.
 
 
 
 
Yoongi's appetite was slipping through his fingers.
There shouldn't have been any causes of this, as the food looked absolutely
splendid, the air in the banquet hall was populous and lively, and his lords,
ladies, and special guests made some of the best company. But somehow, he still
found himself absentmindedly pushing his food around his plate.
In truth, Yoongi was distracted by Jimin. For one, his friend looked positively
gorgeous. He'd cleaned up nicely, and the new clothes and color scheme
complimented his honeyed skin. And when Seokjin made a funny comment, just
enough to break through his walls, Jimin's eyes disappeared into adorable
little smile lines, and his smile simply lit up the room. Yoongi wondered how
on earth he had lived for four years without this amazing person in his life.
Namjoon was preoccupied with a conversation with one of the serving boys, so
Yoongi had some time to think.
He understood why Jimin was being so distant. He had left him alone for four
years, and from what Jimin said at their reunion, his mother was no longer in
the picture. Jimin had every right to be angry with him, even if he didn't know
the reason why Yoongi had disappeared.
But there was also an unknown factor. Just before Yoongi stopped visiting
Jimin, he noticed that he was experiencing some odd feelings about him. He
wasn't quite sure what those feelings were, as he had to stop seeing Jimin soon
after he realized his emotions.
Yoongi knew that he loved Jimin, at least on some level. They'd grown up
together, and they were close like brothers. But, even if the four-year rift
between them didn't happen, Yoongi knew that he would not be able to see Jimin
in the same light again.
Namjoon finally let the poor servant boy go, and returned his attention to his
fellow Royal. There was a visible change in his expression as he looked back at
Yoongi. "Hyung? Are you okay there?"
"I'm alright," Yoongi replied through a forced smile. "Just thinking."
"Ay, Yoongi, you think too much." Yoongi jolted forward from the force of a
little-more-than-gentle pat on the back.
"Joon!" Yoongi winced. "Aish, and you think to little."
Namjoon grinned, still pleasantly nibbling at the food on his plate. "Guilty as
charged."
Yoongi chuckled in response, but his attention was once again drawn by a laugh
like tinkling bells, from the beautiful boy beside him. 
 
 
Jimin couldn't remember the last time he laughed this much. Little tears
glittered at the corners of his eyes, and he even heard little squeaks escape
his throat when he giggled just a bit too hard. This Seokjin guy was amazing.
Jimin loved talking to him, listening to the equal parts of insightful stories
and sassy quips. Not to mention his talent of stuffing scarily enormous amounts
of food in his mouth.
Nonetheless, Jimin was starting to feel the consequences of his giggle fits.
His throat began to constrict, and he coughed and wheezed as his airway seized.
"Jimin? Are you alright?" Seokjin asked. Jimin's gasps for air were becoming
painfully obvious.
"Ah--I'm alright, I just.. Need..." Jimin caught Taehyung's eye from a few
seats down the table, making a little gesture towards his throat. Taehyung got
out of his chair and made his way over to Jimin.
"I'll take care of him, your Majesties," Taehyung said, carefully lifting Jimin
out of his seat, under the watchful eyes of Seokjin and a worried Yoongi.
Seokjin's eyes were still laced with concern. "Alright.. Feel better, okay
Jimin?"
Jimin nodded weakly, but he could still feel Seokjin and Yoongi's doting gazes
following him as he and Taehyung left the dining hall.
"Thank you for getting my attention right away," Taehyung said as the two
stumbled into the infirmary. Jimin was deposited on the cot and Taehyung
immediately went to work brewing a new steaming infusion.
Jimin coughed weakly. "Well, I was just lucky that you and Jeongguk weren't
sucking face when my lungs decided to die."
Taehyung glared at him, but a dusting of red still lay upon his cheeks. "We
weren't 'sucking face.'"
"Not all the time." Jimin chuckled, sending him into another coughing fit.
"Aish, Jiminnie, stop that," Taehyung scolded, undoing the clasps of his shirt
and removing it. He pressed an ear to the heaving chest, then gingerly examined
his throat. "Your breathing pattern is a little rough, but your bruises seem to
be getting better."
"That's good," came a frail wheeze.
"Yeah." Taehyung still wanted to know the origin of said bruises, but he didn't
feel it was a good time yet. Instead, he chose to return to the bowl of boiling
liquid atop his stove.
Taehyung finished brewing the liquid and brought the bowl over to the cot.
Jimin knew the drill. He inhaled the warm vapor, with Taehyung checking on his
breathing every now and then, until he was satisfied with the state of his
windpipe.
"Jimin, you have to be careful, okay?" Taehyung reminded him as he poured out
the remaining contents and cleaned up his work area.
"I know, Tae, I know."
Taehyung sighed. "Knowing" wasn't enough. He kept himself from telling Jimin
that this latest attack of his airways was so bad that he could have stopped
breathing. He didn't want to worry Jimin; the poor boy looked like he had
enough on his mind already. Taehyung looked out the window. "The party won't be
finished for a few hours, but I think it's best if you go rest right now."
Jimin frowned. "Seokjin will worry--"
"Seokjin, or whatever his name is, and his husband will be staying in the room
just down the hall from you."
"Oh." Jimin looked down, fidgeting with his fingers. On one hand, Seokjin would
be close enough to speak to at any time. On the other, he would never leave
Jimin alone, especially after this incident. The man was so protective he would
treat Jimin (a near stranger) like a fragile child.
Taehyung studied Jimin's features, and sighed. "C'mon, let's get you back to
your quarters."
The two exited the room, but Jimin stopped Taehyung when he tried to follow him
down the hall.
"Like you said, there's still a few hours left of the party," Jimin said. "Go
have fun, I can walk to my room by myself."
"Jimin--"
"Taehyung, I'm a big boy." Jimin playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Go
make out with Jeongguk for me."
Taehyung still retained his look of uncertainty for a moment, but it
disappeared with Jimin's reassuring expression. "With pleasure," he smirked,
ruffling Jimin's hair before turning on his heel to rejoin the party.
Jimin shook his head and smiled as he watched the physician run off. He began
making his way to his own quarters, but, upon looking up, met the gaze of a man
that was all too familiar. Dark, dangerous, and intoxicating.
***** Eight of Clubs *****
Chapter Summary
     hiiiii hopemin smut chapter ahead!
Jimin couldn't believe his eyes. Memories of hot, sweaty bodies clashing
together in a dark room resurfaced in his mind as he locked eyes with the man
just a few feet away. He remembered the many nights he had opened his door to
this familiar face, his favorite customer, his--
"Jimin?"
Jimin sucked in a breath as the other walked towards him. He kept his eyes
trained on the ground between them, as he felt the other's gaze look up and
down his body, probably quite confused. And with good reason, too. The only
time they'd ever seen each other was in the brothel, and Jimin never wore
clothes this nice, if any at all.
A gentle touch beneath his chin brought his face up, bringing him eye to eye
with the man. "What are you doing here?"
"I should ask the same thing, Hope."
Hope grinned. "Touché, my dear." He took the smaller by the hand, leading him
down the hall. "Come, we have much to.. Catch up on."
Jimin allowed himself to be taken up to the east wing of the palace, an area
unknown to him. There was another hall of bedrooms, and Hope opened the second
door, gesturing for Jimin to enter.
There was always a little thought in Jimin's mind that his best regular was a
highborn, with the way his body was always clean and his clothes stiff and
proper-looking. But as he walked into his bedroom, he couldn't help but be in
awe at the place. It was bigger than his own, and filled with foreign art and
trophies, a huge map of the known world covering almost an entire wall. He knew
that Hope was highborn, but not this HIGHborn.
Jimin sat at the edge of the lush duvet atop the bed. Hope stood in front of
him, still standing.
"Turn around," he said.
Jimin obediently kicked off his shoes and spun so he sat facing the inside of
the bed, his legs crisscrossed beneath him. He felt large warm hands glide over
his shoulders and down his arms, lightly massaging the muscles at the top of
his back.
"So tell me," Hope began, "Why are you here, Minnie?"
Hooded eyes fluttered shut as Jimin leaned back into the familiar touch. He
sighed contentedly before answering, "I'm a friend of the king from when we
were kids."
"Ah." Jimin felt his cloak come unclipped and fall to the floor, and he was
gently pushed forward as Hope slid onto the bed, seated behind him. A hand fell
down his back, to rest on his thigh. The other stroked his raven hair,
carefully pulling his head to the side as Hope began pressing light kisses
along Jimin's jaw.
Jimin's shirt was unclasped and cast aside on the floor, allowing access to his
neck and collarbones. Jimin suppressed a groan as Hope mouthed along the fading
bruises of his neck. "And who might you be in this realm of royals?" He exhaled
shakily.
Hope smiled against Jimin's throat, and lifted the younger's tunic over his
head. His hands swept in deft movements down Jimin's now slightly fuller torso,
pinching at his nipples before reaching down to unlace his leggings. Jimin was
a panting mess, his head lolled back to rest on Hope's shoulder.
"I am Lord Hoseok, the adviser to your friend, the King."
Immediately after speaking, Hope, or Hoseok, grabbed Jimin's jaw to pull him
into a bruising kiss. Jimin couldn't help but moan under the other's demanding
hold. As Jimin slowly turned so he was chest-to-chest with Hoseok, he found
himself in the position he had grown quite accustomed to: him, nearly naked,
and being dominated by a fully-clothed man. His hands tangled in Hoseok's dirty
blond locks, eyes fluttered shut as their mouths moved in a rough kiss. Wet
warmth clashing together, tongues rediscovering familiar territory.
Hoseok was the one to pull away, one hand gripping the back of Jimin's head to
hold him in place. The smaller looked absolutely beautiful like this: slick
kiss-swollen lips with a strand of saliva still connecting them to his own,
eyes half-lidded, and his face and chest flushed. Hoseok turned them around, so
he was sitting on the edge of the bed, with Jimin in his lap.
"On your knees, baby."
Jimin obediently knelt on the floor between Hoseok's legs, looking up through
hooded eyelids, undoing the laces of the elder's leggings to free his half-hard
cock. Little hands wrapped around the length, tugging gently to bring him to
full hardness. Jimin felt fingers curling in his hair, nudging his face
forward. He obliged, taking the head of Hoseok's cock into his mouth, swirling
his tongue before gently dipping into the slit, causing Hoseok to tighten his
grip on his hair. Jimin bobbed his head, hollowing his cheeks. He hummed,
feeling the familiar weight and heat on his tongue, remembering all the things
he knew to make Hoseok feel good.
The vibrations sent waves of pleasure through Hoseok, and he groaned, "Oh... So
good Minnie.."
Jimin smiled to himself, taking more and more of Hoseok's cock. The head hit
the back of his throat, bypassing the gag reflex Jimin had lost long ago.
Obscene squelching sounds filled the room, and Jimin loved it. He relished in
the remembrance of his nights with his favorite client, knowing that he could
give pleasure to someone who would give it back to him. One of his hands
trailed down to tug at his cock, pleasuring himself as he brought Hoseok closer
to climax.
Suddenly, Hoseok roughly pulled Jimin off of his cock, leaving him gasping,
with saliva glazing his lips and chin. He looked beautiful.
He shifted their position so Jimin lay on the bed, and Hoseok hovered over him,
and removed his leggings. Hoseok stripped himself of his clothing as well,
before settling between Jimin's legs. He pinned Jimin's wrists above him with
one hand, and reached for a small vial of oil on the bedside table with the
other. He dipped his fingers in the slippery substance, and reached down to
circle the rim of Jimin's entrance.
A gasp escaped Jimin's lips as a finger was inserted. It had been so long since
he'd last had sex, so his body was tight and sensitive. Hoseok slowly rocked
his finger in and out of him, before adding another. He scissored his fingers,
trying to relax Jimin and accustom him to the stretch. The little exhales that
came from Jimin's mouth morphed into breathy moans, as Hoseok added another
finger. Jimin's head threw back. "Oh--ah... H-Hope.. Please.. Hos..."
Jimin whined as all contact was removed, and Hoseok's fingers now formed a ring
around the base of Jimin's neglected cock. A devilish smirk adorned the elder's
features.
"Forgotten our manners, have we Minnie?"
Jimin panted, "I-I'm sorry, I--" He wriggled his hips, trying to get more
friction, but a warning hand at his throat ceased all movement.
"What do you call me, Minnie?"
"M-Master."
Hoseok grinned. "On your hands and knees."
Jimin obliged. He felt the heat of the other's body press against his back and
backside.
"I think you need a little something to, jar your memory, what do you say,
Minnie?"
"Yes, Master." The familiar words passing over Jimin's lips brought him deeper
into the headspace of Hoseok's personal fucktoy.
Hoseok poured the remaining contents of the vial onto his length, stroking it
leisurely as he admired the sight before him. He lined his cock up to Jimin's
entrance. "Ready, Minnie?"
"Yes, Master."
Jimin sucked in a breath as the head of his cock breached the tight ring of
muscle, and reveling in the pleasure and pain that he had gone without for so
long. Inch by inch, Hoseok slowly bottomed out, until Jimin was panting.
"Please, move, Hop--Master." Jimin's voice was absolutely debauched.
His little gasps were cut off as Hoseok's fingers wrapped around his throat.
"With pleasure."
His hips drew back, before slamming back in. Jimin let out what little moans he
could, and dark spots danced in his vision as his airway was cut off. He felt
lightheaded, in a way only Hoseok could make him feel. The perfect angle hit
his prostate every time, causing a hot warmth to curl in his core. The smell of
sex permeated the air, and Hoseok's hisses and groans resonated in Jimin's
ears.
"What do you want, Minnie?"
Jimin's eyes were rolled back in his head, and he struggled to form an answer;
his vocabulary gone out the window and the pleasurable loss of air dizzying his
mind. "Inside... Cum inside, Master," he rasped.
He heard a chuckle from behind him, and soon felt Hoseok's breath caressing his
ear. "And do you deserve to cum, Minnie?"
His thrusts were getting more and more forceful, and his grip on Jimin's hip
was sure to leave bruises the next day. Tears were streaking Jimin's cheeks.
"Please... M-Master... Let me cum," he managed to choke out.
A smirk spread across Hoseok's face. "Let's see then."
The hand left Jimin's throat, and he inhaled sharply, his head dizzy as he
gasped for air. Jimin's face was pushed into the bed, a hand splayed on his
back as Hoseok's thrusts picked up speed. Jimin's presence as a singer was made
clear as his moans cut clear through the sound of skin against skin,
ricocheting off the walls of the room.
"You want to cum, Minnie?"
"Yes! Please... Let me cum!" Jimin sobbed into a pillow, his fingers tangled in
the sheets.
Hoseok reached around, and began stroking Jimin in time with his thrusts. The
high-pitched moans grew impossibly louder and more desperate as Jimin neared
orgasm.
"Ah! Ah! Oh-- Master... May I cum please?" The pleading words were like music
to Hoseok's ears.
Hoseok's grasp on Jimin's neck returned, and he pulled him up so the younger's
back was flush to his chest. "Let it go, Minnie."
Jimin's cry was choked off as he released onto the sheets and Hoseok's hand,
black and white streaking his vision as pain and pleasure came to an
overwhelming collision. He collapsed against Hoseok, whining softly through the
oversensitivity.
Jimin felt Hoseok release inside him, and was gradually slowing his breathing
as Hoseok pulled out. He barely registered the elder pushing the dirtied sheets
to the side before laying them both down on the cleaner side of the bed. Jimin
curled into the soft sheets and rested against Hoseok's warmth, falling out of
consciousness from the lack of oxygen and the post-coital fatigue.
"What do you say, Minnie?"
"Thank you, Master."
***** Nine of Clubs *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
A somber melody bellowed from the organ, echoing throughout the spacious
cathedral. Bright light streams in through the stained-glass windows, seeming
inappropriate, considering the occasion. Yoongi stood, stone-faced, in the
front pew next to his mother, who was weeping intensely.
The music halted, and the bishop gave the final blessing, making the sign of
the cross over the coffin in front of the altar. The crowd murmured an "Amen,"
and slowly processed out of the church, as a little boy in the choir section
sang a joyless hymn. At the sound, Yoongi whipped around, but alas, the singer
was not a friend of his. He missed Jimin dearly, but they had not seen each
other in over two years.
Yoongi sighed. His mother had returned to kneel before the coffin, crying,
saying one last message before the pallbearers took it away to the burial site.
He couldn't bear to watch her anymore, so he gave a slight nod to the maid
standing at his side, and she helped him limp slowly up the aisle. Outside, he
sat on the steps of the cathedral, basking in the shining rays of the sun. He
gestured at the maid to leave him for a bit, and contemplated for this time.
Yoongi would be crowned king soon. The sudden loss of his father would not be
allowed to severely affect the kingdom. Yoongi had been preparing his whole
life for the day he was to take over. So... Why did he feel so uneasy?
Well, he had at least an inkling of an answer. He was young, only a year into
adulthood, not to mention the fact that he was still recovering from his
ailment. And he knew that his advisers were hungrily watching his every move,
eager to pounce should he give any sign that he might be unfit to rule. Yoongi
had already resigned himself to that reality, knowing he'd have to swiftly
establish himself as a strong and efficient leader, and maybe fire a few of the
old, corrupt advisers.
The only thing he couldn't control was... The fact that he had no Queen, and no
heir. With no heir, it made it much easier for any power-hungry tyrant to seize
his throne.
Yoongi wondered what his late father would think of his situation. It's not
like his father was ever proud of him, or showed any emotion towards him,
anyway. Even while Yoongi was near dying, his father's stoic demeanor never
wavered.
The pallbearers holding his father's coffin swept by him, loading the polished
wooden box into a carriage, to be carried away and buried six feet under. He'd
be laid on a specifically selected plot of land in the royal cemetery, and a
specially crafted grey marble tombstone would be positioned over the top.
Yoongi's father wasn't the type for sentiments, or any decoration, for that
matter. Which was probably the reason why their kingdom of Degue was so
politically secluded from the other nations. Yoongi planned to change that.
Someone took a seat beside Yoongi on the steps of the cathedral. Yoongi slipped
out of his reverie and turned to look at the person. It was his mother. The
creases of her aging face were just beginning to set, and her eyes were rimmed
with red. Her hair, just beginning to show streaks of silver, was pulled into a
tight bun, beneath her black veil. She took Yoongi's cold hand in hers, holding
it tightly as they watched the carriage patter away.
"Your father did love you, Yoonie."
"Loved me?" Yoongi snorted. "If a lion can love a squirrel, then sure, he loved
me."
She sighed. "Yoon--"
"Eomma, please. Don't say that he's just a different kind of man, or that he
loved me in his own way. It's pitiful."
Yoongi kept his eyes averted from his mother. He didn't want to see the hurt
that he knew was in her face.
"I know I can't persuade you." She stood. "But if it's any consolation, please
know in your heart, that I love you. I always will." She pressed a kiss to his
forehead, brushing aside his fringe, then made her way down the steps, to
follow the carriage to the burial site.
Yoongi watched her go, wondering how a caring woman like her could claim to
love the hard stone of a person that was his father.
 
 
 
 
The festive portion of the banquet was in full swing. The band played a lively
tune, and the air was filled with excitement as people sang and danced. The
guests of honor were dancing as well, if a bit sloppily, as the wine was
starting to take effect in their systems. Yoongi laughed along with Namjoon and
Seokjin, who were teasing him to "come and join the fun!"
"You know as well as I do that I can barely dance sober!" Yoongi bellowed.
Namjoon laughed, showing off some odd footwork whilst almost falling flat on
his face. "Then how d'you suppose I'm dancing this well tipsy?"
"Full-on drunk is more like it," Seokjin countered, but nonetheless grabbed his
husband's hands and danced to the lively jig that was playing from the band.
Yoongi smiled at the amiable display, the revelries, the fun, the good company,
everything felt so nice this evening. He took a sip from his wineglass,
cheering on the couple.
Namjoon had always been a happy person, always eager to join a party or start
one. Yoongi secretly envied him, it seemed his friend was in a perpetually good
mood. Seokjin, on the other hand, was positively glowing. Yoongi would have
been stupid if he hadn't picked up on the Queen's unease upon their initial
greeting, but now, he looked like he was having the time of his life. His hair,
as pale as Yoongi's but a bit on the yellow side, was mussed from being thrown
around as the couple practically flew across the dance floor. They danced,
socialized, and just had fun. They looked so happy together.
Yoongi's lips turned up in a wistful smile. The sight of his happily wedded
friends only made him even more painfully aware of his current bachelor status.
He knew he shouldn't be jealous. But...
The only person who had ever moved his heart, in terms of romance, was
currently refusing to speak more than a few to sentences to him. But Yoongi had
had four years to think about his feelings towards him. He had missed his
friend terribly in the years they were separated, and said friend was always in
the back of his mind while Yoongi was sick. An apology was in order. Yoongi
wanted to tell Jimin about why he never came to see him again, to explain
everything. And... Well, he didn't want to scare him away, but Jimin deserved
the whole truth, and Yoongi's feelings were part of the truth.
Yoongi had made up his mind. He would go to Jimin, and apologize, and explain.
He eyed Namjoon and Seokjin one last time. He caught Namjoon's eye, gesturing
that he'd be gone for a bit. Namjoon nodded, and Yoongi quietly slipped out of
the banquet hall.
Chapter End Notes
     So sorry for the short chapter ://// fluffy romancy stuff coming
     soon! Also thank you so much to all the people leaving comments and
     kudos, it's absolutely wonderful to see those, and it really
     motivates me to keep going :)
***** Ten of Clubs *****
Chapter Notes
     I promised fluff, I deliver fluff (in the form of a flashback)!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The sky was already blooming in hues of pink and orange when Yoongi made his
way to the river. He nearly tripped several times, making an effort not to drop
the bag of supplies he had slung over his shoulder, but he was so excited for
the day. Yoongi had suggested it, much to both of their surprise. Jimin had
been complaining about how the time they spent together was always short, and
Yoongi had been leaving earlier and earlier each time. So one day, Yoongi just
said it: "Why don't we just get away for a day?"
 
 
As he rushed across the grassy slopes, Yoongi could see Jimin barreling towards
him with equal speed and excitement shining in his brown eyes. His little
giggles filled the brisk morning air as they almost collided. Jimin exhaled
heavily from running, but a huge grin stretched across his face as he ran his
fingers through his hair, before throwing his arms around Yoongi.
 
 
"Yoongi-hyung!" Jimin squealed. When he pulled away, his face was a little
flushed, but his eyes twinkled with giddiness.
 
 
"Hey, Jiminnie," Yoongi beamed. He could never get used to Jimin's big, excited
smile. He wrapped an arm around Jimin's shoulders, as they started walking
along the riverbank. "Ready to go?"
===============================================================================
"Aish, goddamn squirrels."
 
 
Yoongi cursed as one of the furry little monsters scurried down the tree,
nearly causing him to lose his footing.
 
 
"Min Yoongi! Min Yoongi! Min Yoongi!" Jimin cheered from the forest floor,
jumping up and down as Yoongi painstakingly scaled the tree. "Get those
apples!"
 
 
Yoongi almost snickered at the childishness of the task at hand. As soon as
Jimin saw the bright red fruits adorning the boughs of the tree, Yoongi's fate
was sealed. He already knew that he could never withstand the "Pleeeease,
hyung?"s and big brown puppy eyes. But it didn't bother him quite as much.
 
 
Yoongi grunted, struggling to settle his foot into the niche between two
branches. He called down to Jimin, "You know, you could just get these
yourself, you lazy butt head."
 
 
"I know, I know." Yoongi could feel Jimin's smug little smirk digging into the
back of his head as he watched him. "But it's quite amusing to watch you."
 
 
Yoongi rolled his eyes. "I bet it is." He managed to situate himself in a
somewhat stable position, and began plucking the fruit from the branches.
"Catch!"
 
 
A pleased simper crossed Yoongi's features when he heard Jimin yelp as the
fruits came hurdling down. "Aish, Yoongi! You almost hit me in the face!"
 
 
Yoongi tossed down the last one within his reach before beginning to descend
the tree. "But I didn't!" He called coyly, turning his head, catching a glimpse
of Jimin's pouting face. He let go of the trunk when he was a few feet above
the ground, but let out a faint groan when his feet hit the grassy floor.
 
 
Jimin stuffed the last of the apples into his knapsack before walking closer to
Yoongi, who had slid down to sit against the tree. "Oh, what'd you do now?"
Jimin sighed, crouching to examine his leg. The knees of the thin leggings were
frayed and littered with tiny splinters of wood, but no broken skin.
 
 
"I think I just landed weirdly on this leg," Yoongi said, tapping his right
thigh. "It hurts a bit around the knee."
 
 
Jimin reached out to gently squeeze the area just above the knee, before
carefully massaging it. "Better?"
 
 
Yoongi nodded.
 
 
A slight smile spread across Jimin's lips. "Honestly, I don't know why I put up
with you, hyung." He should anticipated the weak punch to his shoulder.
 
 
"Shut up, you ass. You asked me to do it."
 
 
"I know," Jimin singsonged playfully.
 
 
Yoongi's lip curled. "I hate you."
 
 
"Love you too, Yoongi!" Jimin quipped, patting his knee before hopping to his
feet. "Well, come on now! The day doesn't wait for slackers!"
 
 
Yoongi tried to hide his face as he grinned, taking Jimin's hand.
===============================================================================
Jimin would not stop yelling as he ran along the seashore.
 
 
"I had no idea we were so close to water!" Yoongi could hear the younger
exclaim, while he stood a few yards away shaking his head.
 
 
"Why on earth did I take him here?" Yoongi's question skyward brought no
answer, only dust tickling his chin as Jimin kicked up sand.
 
 
Jimin jogged back over to him, immediately stripping off his shoes and
leggings. "Hyung! C'mon! Let's go in the water!"
 
 
Yoongi could never say no to Jimin.
 
 
Within minutes, the two teens were knee-deep in the frigid waters. The sun was
now full and bright, shining directly over their heads. Birds squawked
somewhere nearby, drowned out by the symphony of waves lapping against the
sand. The gritty bits of sand dug in between Yoongi's toes, and while wading in
the water was pleasant, it was much colder than he thought it would be.
 
 
Yoongi gasped as Jimin kicked up a spray, splashing the both of them with
water. "Jimin-ah! We don't have a change of clothes!"
 
 
"Who cares?" Jimin laughed, tackling Yoongi, dousing them both in the cold
water.
 
 
"Oh that's how we're gonna play it?" Yoongi challenged, before grabbing Jimin's
hands, grappling playfully in the shallows.
 
 
By the time they finished, they were both soaked from head to toe, and their
tunics clung to them like second skin. They shook off the sand as best they
could, then sat on a rock formation just before where the sand met the meadow.
Jimin lay back against the rock, his features practically glowing in the high
sun. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and the neckline of his tunic dipped
low, exploding his collarbones. Yoongi had to tear his gaze away, and
frantically adjust the fabric at his chest and nether regions, where the wet
cloth was getting a little too skin-tight.
 
 
"Here," Jimin tossed him one of the apples from earlier, before sitting up
straight as he nibbled on his own, watching the gentle sway of the waves. "It's
beautiful, isn't it?"
 
 
"Yeah, it is." Not as beautiful as you, Yoongi wanted to say, but he stopped
himself, to keep his conflicted feelings to himself, and to not sound painfully
cheesy.
 
 
He pulled a medium-sized loaf of bread from his own knapsack (he had to do some
serious bribing to let the kitchens lady let him take this), and ripped off a
piece, handing it to Jimin.
 
 
"Thanks, hyung."
 
 
Jimin seemed perpetually transfixed by the waters of the lake, so Yoongi took
that opportunity to look at him once again. He had his knee propped up on one
of the closer-to-the-ground rocks, his elbow resting on it as he ate their
lunch. The sun was doing that thing with his eyes, where the sunlight radiated
into his irises, transforming the warm brown orbs into a brilliant gold.
 
 
"Hyung?"
 
 
Yoongi snapped out of his trance, forcing himself to actually look at Jimin
rather than through him. "Yeah?"
 
 
Jimin nodded towards Yoongi's bag. "How's your little poetry thing going?"
 
 
A bright red blossomed across Yoongi's cheekbones. Ever since he'd told Jimin
of his newfound interest in verse, he would not shut up about it. "Ah, I wrote
something, but it's not that good--"
 
 
"Oh of course it's good," Jimin waved his comment away, making a "give it"
movement to Yoongi's bag.
 
 
Yoongi feigned reluctance as he handed Jimin the small leather-bound notebook.
While, on one hand, he was deeply regretting his decision to tell Jimin about
his interest in poetry, he was also quite curious to see how Jimin would react
to the obviously lovesick words etched in his loose, languid writing.
 
 
"If only I had just one day
I want to peacefully fall asleep
Intoxicated with your sweet scent
I want to put my body in your warm and deep eyes
Whenever I see you,
I run out of breath
Our music is the sound of breathing
Your voice when you say my name
I wanna be locked in you and swim in you,
I want to know you more.
An explorer venturing through your deep forest of mystery
I appreciate the masterpiece that is you
Because your existence alone is art
I imagine this all night every day
Because it’s a meaningless dream anyway," Jimin read aloud. He shut the book,
looking at Yoongi with an odd expression in his eyes: somewhere between being
touched, and feeling... hopeful? "Aww, Yoongi," he cooed. "That's so sweet."
 
 
Jimin's warm fingers felt distinctly more noticeable, as their hands just
barely touched when Yoongi took back the book. "You think?" Yoongi inquired.
 
 
"Yeah." Jimin replied, and his eyes smiled too. "Maybe you could write lyrics
for me one day."
 
 
"Maybe."
===============================================================================
By the time their clothes were dry, the sun was just beginning its descending
curve towards the earth. Despite Jimin's whining ("But hyung!" "Let's stay,
please?" "I'll splash you again!"), he and Yoongi agreed to start heading back
to their place on the river, so as not to be caught by nightfall in an
unfamiliar place. They skirted around the woods this time, instead of passing
through, per Jimin's request for a "scenic route." Said Jimin was currently
chasing butterflies through the meadow, as Yoongi carried both of their bags.
 
 
Yoongi rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time that day.
"Jimin! Quit it! You'll just get bit by one of the bugs."
 
 
"Butterflies don't bite!" Jimin countered. "And shut it! You'll scare them
away."
 
 
"You're doing that perfectly fine yourself." Yoongi strained his eyes to look
further over the horizon. The twinkle of the sun's rays on the river water was
getting closer, but not by much. "Come on back, Jiminnie, I want to get to the
river before nighttime."
 
 
Instead of a response, he heard a little gasp.
 
 
"Jimin?" He turned his head to see Jimin walking precariously slowly towards
him.
 
 
Jimin's eyes flicked up to look at him. They were brimming with excitement, but
Jimin was doing a fairly good job at keeping himself steady. "I got one," he
whispered, carefully stretching out his arm. There was a tiny butterfly perched
on the bone of his wrist. Blue wings shimmered with mirror-like iridescence,
defined by smooth black lines tracing delicate patterns along the fluttering
wings.
 
 
"Lovely, isn't it?" Jimin remarked, twisting his arm such that the cerulean
scales caught the sunlight.
 
 
"Yes, it's beautiful."
 
 
The butterfly suddenly took off, taking flight in a fluttering blur of black
and blue. The two boys kept their eyes trained on it, watching it fly away.
===============================================================================
Yoongi poked at the crackling fire, watching the sparks dancing up into the
evening air. Satisfied with the warmth, he sat back, next to Jimin, who rested
his head on his shoulder.
 
 
"I had a great time today," Jimin said.
 
 
Yoongi turned to smile at him. "Yeah, I did, too."
 
 
Jimin's twinkling orbs disappeared in his signature eyesmile. He shifted around
a bit, so he was laying down, with Yoongi's thigh as a pillow. Yoongi leaned
back against the tree trunk, watching Jimin curl up on the blanket they had
laid out. They were situated a few feet away from the outcropping above the
river, just under the canopy of leaves, but still able to see the stars.
 
 
Yoongi was a bit startled when Jimin suddenly took hold of his hand, but
quickly relaxed, when Jimin started to play with his fingers.
 
 
"Hyung?"
 
 
"Yes?"
 
 
"Can we do this again?"
 
 
Yoongi smiled. On impulse, he bent over, pressing a chaste kiss to Jimin's
cheek. "Of course, Jiminnie." Yoongi's face flushed when he realized what he
had done, but his fears were dissipated when he saw Jimin's little smile.
 
 
"Promise?"
 
 
"Promise."
 
 
Yoongi felt Jimin gently nuzzle against his leg. "Okay."
 
 
Yoongi found himself carefully stroking Jimin's hair, absentmindedly playing
with the soft raven locks as he traced constellations in the sky. Soon, the
quiet harmony of the night was joined by Jimin's soft, even breathing.
 
 
Yoongi sighed contentedly, looking down at the younger boy one last time. "I
love you, Jimin," he said, knowing only the quiet night would hear him. He
settled back, resting his head against the tree, before closing his eyes.
Chapter End Notes
     Yes, the tree scene was inspired by the bts bomb where Yoongi is
     playing basketball ft cheerleader!jimin, and Yoongi's poem consists
     of slightly altered lyrics from 하루만
***** Jack of Clubs *****
Chapter Notes
     helloo! I'm so so sorry I haven't been uploading or replying to
     comments.. I've been having some personal problems recently, but it's
     getting better, so expect a more frequent upload schedule again!
     <3333 and thank you all for reading!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Long story short, Yoongi looked like shit. His eyes were rimmed with red from
strained overuse, and deep indigo semicircles below them. His normally low-
hanging eyelids were even droopier than before. White-blond hair fell in greasy
clumps to dangle before his eyes, clinging to his forehead. His lips were pale
and cracked and chapped.


Now Yoongi understood why his father always looked like a zombie (in the rare
moments that he wasn't looking incredibly disappointed with Yoongi).


Yoongi splashed his face in the washbasin, then steadied his hands on the rim,
bending at the waist and leaning forward. Honestly, fuck anyone who says that
ruling a nation is easy. Between the taxes, laws, and the goddamn inter-kingdom
politics, he felt like he might lose it. Not to mention the new plans and
reforms Yoongi was trying to make.


He rubbed his eyes, abandoning the basin, stumbling back to his study adjacent
to the council room. Yoongi collapsed into his desk, staring blankly at the
mess of papers crowding his desk.


"Yoongi?"


Yoongi turned his head, looking bleary-eyed at the speaker at his door. It was
his mother, again. Her robes were grey, and her hair was loose, falling in a
single black and silver-streaked sheet down her back and shoulders. Her veil
was in her hands, and she looked expectantly at him. Yoongi knew what she was
going to say.


"I'm going to visit the cemetery today. Would you like to join me?" She asked,
a hopeful smile on her face. She always invited him whenever she went to visit
his father. And every time, his answer was the same.


"No, eomma," Yoongi answered, hoping his expression displayed at least some
remorse. "I've got too much on my hands right now."


His mother sighed. "Alright then." She draped her veil over her head, giving
him one last solemn look before disappearing.


Yoongi would never understand his parents' love. Well, it seemed like they
loved each other, but Yoongi could never tell why. Perhaps his father only
developed his cold demeanor after Yoongi's birth. Maybe there was some warmth
to him, something that his mother fell for, that Yoongi would never see.


Yoongi cradled his head in his hands. God. He really should stop thinking about
couples. Especially with the scroll lying innocently at the top of the pile of
papers, inviting him to the coronation of the newly wed Namjoon and Seokjin of
the neighbouring Sule.


Both his mother and his advisers were hounding him to
 "please find a queen before I die of old age." It had taken all of Yoongi's
restraint to not slap them all across the face (sorry eomma). What he needed
right now was not a partner, but someone to get at least some of his work the
hell off his back.


Speaking of which, where was Hoseok? As chief adviser, he was supposed to
filter through the paperwork, leaving only the important ones to the King.


"Your Majesty."


Speak of the devil.


Yoongi turned once again to the interruption at his door. "Ah, Lord Hoseok, I
was hoping you could--"


"Er, my apologies, Your Majesty, but I'm in a bit of a rush here," Hoseok cut
him off, walking in quickly and (goddamn it) depositing another stack of papers
on the desk.


"Alright.. Hoseok, but--" Yoongi wrinkled his nose. "Eugh. You smell like-
- Oh."


Looking at him now, Yoongi noticed that Hoseok's clothes and hair were
disheveled, and his doublet was clasped incorrectly. His face was flushed, from
embarrassment, and from something much more taboo. Yoongi knew exactly where he
had been.


Hoseok's face turned bright red. "I'll.. Uh... I'll be going, then, Your, uh..
Your Majesty." He bowed hastily before fleeing the room.


Yoongi watched him go, a twinge of disgust curling his lip. "Yeah. You do
that."


===============================================================================



Jeongguk was torn between wanting to drop Taehyung on the floor and leave him
there or wanting to maniacally fuck him in the middle of the hallway. Of
course, he would end up doing neither, but Taehyung really needed to stop
grinding down on his crotch, or Jeongguk might have been forced to choose.


"Love," Jeongguk managed to say, amidst the hot lips crushed against his own,
"Can't you wait?"


Taehyung grinned against his lips, before pulling away and pouting. "But I'm an
impatient little boy." A groan escaped Jeongguk's mouth as another twist of the
elder's hips caused teasing amounts of friction against his clothed erection.
The ever-present twinkle of mischief in Taehyung's eyes gleamed brighter. "And
it seems you are too."


"Oh stop it," Jeongguk replied, tightening his grip on Taehyung's ass in
retaliation.


Taehyung yelped in surprise. Quickly regaining his composure, he allowed a
small giggle to leave his lips before narrowing his eyes, digging his
fingertips into Jeongguk's muscular shoulders. "Don't you drop me."


Jeongguk chuckled, shifting his grip as he released one hand to reach the door
of Taehyung's bedroom. "I wouldn't dare."


It took a bit of maneuvering to enter the room without dropping or injuring the
horny man clinging to Jeongguk's front. When the couple was safely inside,
Jeongguk nudged the door shut once more, and deposited Taehyung onto the bed.


Taehyung was perched at the edge of the bed, smirking coquettishly up at the
younger. Jeongguk easily countered the intensity in his eyes, before closing
the gap between them, and connecting their lips in a searing kiss. His hands
cupped Taehyung's face, and he felt impatient tugs at his shirt, pulling him
down to lean over the elder. Taehyung was nearly flush against the bed, pinned
down by Jeongguk as their lips danced together. Taehyung nipped at Jeongguk's
bottom lip, opening his own as tongues explored each other's mouths. The kiss
was hot, hungry, and burning. Taehyung kissed him with a passion that only grew
stronger. Jeongguk felt the clasps of his outer shirt becoming undone, and he
slipped it off, before quickly breaking the contact to remove his tunic as
well. Taehyung was quick to pull him back, tangling his hands Jeongguk's hair
and pulling.


Jeongguk groaned at the slight sting. "Eager," he chuckled breathlessly.


He broke away from the deep kiss, and began pressing his lips lightly in a
trail from Taehyung's lips, to his sharp jawline, and sucking a hickey into the
soft spot just below the bone. Taehyung bit his lip to stifle a moan, as
Jeongguk continued to work his way down his neck, undoing the top of his shirt
for more access. He allowed the other a few seconds to shed his top layers as
well, before latching back on to the warm honeyed skin. Jeongguk sucked at the
skin over his collarbone, before working his way down his torso.


Reaching Taehyung's groin, Jeongguk mouthed wetly at the outline of the
erection straining through the fabric. Taehyung hissed, fingers clutching at
the sheets.


"Don't--tease--ah--damn it.." He groaned, writhing under his partner's skilled
touch.


Jeongguk grinned, nibbling at his lower lip as his fingers skimmed over the
laces of Taehyung's leggings. "What's the magic word?"


"--fuck you, Jeon Jeongguk."


Jeongguk tutted. "Taetae--" his voice had a little edge to it, dangerous, and
Taehyung was so tempted to misbehave, but he was too desperate.


Taehyung gasped as Jeongguk suddenly bit into the sensitive inside of his
thigh, the thin fabric digging into his skin, heightening the feeling of the
sharp sting. "A--ah! Please, J-Jeongguk, I just need fuck--!" His skull bounced
against the mattress as his head was thrown back, overwhelmed by his cock
suddenly nipped by the air then engulfed in the wet warmth of Jeongguk's mouth.


Jeongguk expertly bobbed his head, wasting no time. He ran his tongue along the
bottom, tracing along the vein there. He simpered to himself when he felt
Taehyung's slim fingers find their way back to his hair, gripping there and
hanging on for dear life. Taehyung whined as Jeongguk suddenly pulled off, lips
red, and a hand replacing his mouth. He flicked his wrist leisurely, perfect
amount of pressure, stopping to rub at the hot, angry red head every now and
then.


"What do you want, baby?" Jeongguk's voice was low and rich; Taehyung shivered
at the sound. Jeongguk had shifted back up again, attaching his lips to
Taehyung's as his hand still stroked at his cock.


Taehyung hummed into the kiss, hands sliding down to rest on Jeongguk's muscled
shoulders. "Mm... Ah... Fuck me, Jeonggukkie."


Jeongguk couldn't stop the exaggerated sound of exasperation that escaped his
lips as he moved back down. "Aish, baby, don't call me by that when we're about
to have sex," he rolled his eyes as he made to slide Taehyung's leggings down
and off his legs.


"As long as your dick is in me by the end of the night, I'll call you whatever
I want."


"Uh huh. Give."


Taehyung reached behind him, to grab a little bottle of oil wedged between the
mattress and headboard, handing it to Jeongguk.


Jeongguk hovered over Taehyung's torso, held up by one hand planted beside the
elder's torso, as his other hand wandered down between his legs. He dribbled
the oil his fingers before rubbing around the rim of his opening, relishing in
the moans the movement elicited from Taehyung. He traced his fingers around the
puckered muscle, before gently pushing the tip of his index finger inside.


Taehyung cried out as the finger pushed deeper. "God--ah..!" He breathed
through gritted teeth.


The little breaths grew heavier and more forceful as Jeongguk began pushing his
finger in and out of Taehyung's hole, gradually increasing the pace. He added
another finger, allowing his partner to adjust before carefully working his
fingers in a acis scissoring motion, trying to relax the tight grip of the
muscles.


Finally, Jeongguk added a third finger, pushing them in and out and curling
them slightly. Taehyung arched his back, moaning at the feeling. "God,
Jeongguk! I'm ready I'm ready just-- fuck me already!"
Jeongguk removed his fingers. His pupils were blown with lust at the sight
before him: Taehyung was a mess, desperate, absolutely wrecked. His face and
chest were flushed a dark red, hair mussed and clinging to his forehead with
sweat. Jeongguk reached down to capture red spit-slick lips with his own,
before withdrawing to slick up his own cock with the oil. "Gladly."


He positioned the head of his member before Taehyung's entrance. Taehyung
gasped, breath hitching as he felt it breach him, hands clasping at the back of
Jeongguk's neck, holding their foreheads together as he bottomed out. He could
feel Jeongguk's hot breath mingling with his own, but so consumed in the
feeling of being full, warm, amazing. No matter how many times they did this,
it always left him breathless.


Taehyung lifted up his legs to wrap them around Jeongguk's waist, crossing his
ankles at the back. "I'm ready, go," he panted impatiently.


Jeongguk smiled, kissing him again, before lifting his hips, and thrusting back
in. He drank in the moans from Taehyung's lips, loving him, loving his Taetae,
loving the heat tight around his cock, loving how this feeling never got old;
sex with Taehyung was like discovering a new galaxy, over and over: it's
breathtaking evertime.


He drove his thrusts deeper, angling his hips to find Taehyung's prostate. The
loud, wanton moan against his lips signaled his success. Jeongguk lowered his
kisses to Taehyung's neck, wanting to hear his noises freely. And hear them he
did, his pleasured grunts joining the cacophony of sound, coalescing with the
breathy moans and the lewd sounds of skin on skin.


Jeongguk mouthed and nipped at the still-newly made red marks dotting
Taehyung's warm skin, teeth gently grazing the collarbone as he felt his climax
approaching; he quickened his thrusts, growing sloppier.


"Ah.. Tae.."


Taehyung's fingers were scrabbling at the hairs at the back of Jeongguk's
skull, pleasured groans growing louder. "Gukkie, I'm-"


"Come on, baby."


Taehyung came with a shout, and thank god the other occupants of the castle
were drunk out of their minds and distracted by the band, as his cry would
definitely have drawn attention. Jeongguk finished not long after, releasing
into the heat clenching around him. They breathed heavily, letting their racing
heartbeats slow, before Jeongguk pulled out. He wiped down both of their
chests, streaked with white, before taking the elder into his arms. They lay
curled up into each other, Taehyung's head resting on Jeongguk's chest.


"Tae?"
"Yeah?" Taehyung replied sleepily.
"I love you."
"I love you too, Gukkie."
"..."
"..."
"Thank god for the party."
Chapter End Notes
     Also, I've encountered some weird glitch where I can't respond to
     comments?? I'm trying, but hopefully it will work for this chapter
     and the upcoming ones
***** Queen of Clubs *****
The first time Hoseok was shaking like a virgin.


Well, obviously, he wasn't a virgin, but this--experience--was, unfamiliar, for
lack of a better word.


He had dug through his closet to find his plainest, least detailed cloak and
tunic, messing up his hair as he skirted around the border of the town. It took
him a long time before he worked up the courage to walk into the brothel.


The "lobby" was clouded with smoke and the stench of sweat and cheap alcohol. A
few men conversed over a table, obviously the source of the acrid smoke, and a
scantily clad girl was draped over a man seated in the corner. Hoseok gulped,
before regaining his composure. The front that he put on was carved from years
of hardening his features, hiding his emotions, telling himself he had power,
so act like it.


With a feigned but believable air of confidence, he strode up to the group of
men at the table. They parted, until they were somewhat situated behind it,
leering over at him.


"You here for a whore?"


"Why else do people come here?"


===============================================================================



The second, third, and fourth times all sort of blurred together. It was the
same thing over and over: some underage girl "seducing" him then just mindless
humping until somebody came (it was usually the girl).


To be honest, the girls disgusted him. He didn't know why, but the idea and the
action of sex with a woman absolutely repulsed him.


So the fifth time, he requested a boy.


Hoseok made his way down to the last bedroom of the hallway, placing a firm
knock upon the door.


The boy that opened was absolutely breathtaking. He was small, short of stature
with slender limbs, but his cheeks were round and full. He had dark, heavy-
lidded eyes and puffy pink lips that Hoseok imagined would look heavenly around
his cock. Those pretty doe eyes, Hoseok noticed, were currently running up and
down Hoseok's own body, and the boy seemed considerably flustered. It was cute.


"Like what you see, gorgeous?"


===============================================================================



Hoseok couldn't even remember how many more times there were, following their
first meeting. Now, when he visited the brothel, he requested a name. Jimin.


Sometimes, Hoseok would drop the title of "Master" and take up his alias of
"Hope," and sit with Jimin afterwards for hours on end, sharing a pipe or a
bottle of soju. He was somehow simply entranced with Jimin's presence.


They had been doing this for a few months when Hoseok's hands began to find
their way around Jimin's neck. Jimin didn't mind it too much at first, he knew
that people had their kinks. But he had to admit, the haziness that came with
the asphyxiation combined with Hoseok fucking him hard and fast brought him to
dizzying heights of pleasure. Jimin only noticed when he could no longer sing
smoothly or sweetly anymore, and the resulting ring of bruises was growing much
darker.


But it couldn't prevent him from submitting to his Master every single time.


===============================================================================



When Jimin awoke, the place beside him on the bed was cold. He drew the
blankets tighter around him, groaning at the slight twinge in his ass. He heard
water splashing from the washroom, and turned his head just in time to see
Hoseok walking back towards him, a towel slung around his waist. Hoseok slid
back into the bed, an arm curling around Jimin, the other hand caressing a
cheek.


Jimin sighed at the contact, melting into the familiar touch, breathing in
Hoseok's signature scent of lavender and rose. His eyelids fluttered sleepily,
and he looked up into the elder's eyes. They were unreadable, face contorted
with forced warmth and an odd expression. Jimin felt the hand at his cheek
trail down, past his jawline, to trace along the newly formed red marks
contrasting with the fading bruises.


"Hoseok."


The elder jumped out of his reverie. "What is it, Jimin?"


Jimin slowly extracted himself from Hoseok's touch. "I need to go," he murmured
softly, "Yoongi will worry if I'm gone."


"Oh. Yes. Of course." Hoseok watched silently as Jimin picked up his clothing,
redressing himself. "Jimin?"


Jimin looked up, and walked over at Hoseok's beckoning. Hoseok's larger hands
cupped his face, pulling him down to kiss him. Jimin leaned in, kissing him
back, but pulled away just as quickly. His gaze stayed on Hoseok's as he walked
back to the door.


"Come back soon, will you?"


"Anything you want, Hope," Jimin replied, a small smile gracing his lips before
the door closed behind him.
***** King of Clubs *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Surprisingly, Yoongi found that he liked drunk Namjoon quite a bit more than
sober Namjoon. The reason being, that drunk Namjoon had practically passed out.
Yoongi supposed the only downside was that he now had to carry said Namjoon up
to his room, but it was a small price to pay for a little quiet.


Drunk Seokjin, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Even though Yoongi
had just now met him, he could tell that Seokjin's drunk persona was a stark
contrast to him sober. Seokjin was stumbling all over the place, giggling
uncontrollably and singing some childish-sounding song (consisting of mostly
"la la la"s and the occasional "okay!").


Yoongi finally managed to deposit the couple in their room, trusting Seokjin to
take care of his husband. He sent a message down to the kitchen and infirmary
to have some water and Taehyung's "special anti-hangover" medicine sent up to
their room and his own in the morning. He may have just been a little tipsy,
but he didn't want to risk it. He had work to do in the morning.


Passing by Jimin's room, he stopped to take a quick peek inside. Yoongi frowned
when he saw the clean, still-made bed. He looked up and down the hallway. No
Jimin.


Hmm. That was odd, considering that Taehyung had returned to the party
confidently stating that Jimin was safe in bed before turning to make out with
Jeongguk. Yoongi had half a mind to go find and yell at Taehyung, but he knew
half the palace was either asleep and drunk out of their minds, or fucking like
bunnies.


His attention was suddenly drawn by a scuffling sound around the corner of the
hallway. Yoongi leaned forward, peering down the hallway, before recognizing
the head of black hair.


"Oh, there you are, Jimin," he said, relief evident in his voice. He met him
about halfway down the corridor, taking his arm. "Why aren't you in bed? And
why are you limping?" Yoongi's voice was laced with concern.


Jimin didn't look him in the eye, and he kept his lips shut.


Yoongi sighed. "Oh, Jimin.."


Yoongi guided Jimin into his room, helping him onto his bed. The wince that
passed over Jimin's features when he sat on the duvet did not slip past
Yoongi's sharp gaze.


"So where have you been, Jimin?" Yoongi said cautiously, folding back the
covers as he gestured for Jimin to remove his shoes. "Seokjin and I were
worried sick about you."


"I was..."


"Taehyung said he brought you back to your room."


"I got.. Lost."


"Lost?" Yoongi stood in front of Jimin, and began unclasping the top of his
doublet. "How could you get lost? You know this hallway like the back of your
hand..."


Yoongi trailed off as he noticed the newly formed red marks circling Jimin's
throat, previously hidden by the high-collared doublet.


"Jimin-ah..."


A gentle hand at Jimin's chin turned his face to look directly at Yoongi's.


"Jimin, where did you get these?"


Jimin's face was red, and he dropped his chin past Yoongi's hand to stare at
his own lap.


"Jimin, please don't hide things from me."


The following silence was deafening, flooding the room, sweeping into every
crack and corner, drowning them both in the absence of sound.








Yoongi was sure that the sadness and disappointment in his expression could be
read like a book. Defeated, he let Jimin go, picking out some nightclothes from
the dresser and setting it beside Jimin on the bed.


"Go down to Taehyung in the morning, okay?"


Jimin made a little movement of his head that could barely be registered as a
nod.


"Alright then," Yoongi said, opening the bedroom door and passing into the
hallway. "Goodnight, Jimin."


As he left, Yoongi tried not to notice the unmistakable stench of sex, and the
pungent scent of that god-awful perfume that was the favorite of a certain
adviser of his.
Chapter End Notes
     two short chapters???? Anyway, this is the end of the first suit!
     More plot action will be coming soon in Diamonds, Spades, and
     Hearts... Thanks so much for reading this far!! <3333
***** Black Joker *****
Chapter Summary
     The Black Joker is somewhat a wild card. It is mysterious, as it can
     transform or represent anything. At most, this card can represent an
     unknown future that is still able to be shaped.
Chapter Notes
     Literally just namjin backstory and porn with feels
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Namjoon struggled to hide how much he was shaking. He currently stood between
his parents in the throne room of Anune, where the elderly King and Queen and
their eldest son looked down at him with stern, analytic stares. A girl who
looked even younger than himself was hanging off the Prince's arm, but her cold
gaze looked even more closed off and condescending than the rest of the Royal
Family's.


Namjoon swallowed, hands tightly clasped behind his back, nearly choking the
small flower he held there. If all Anunian royals were like this, he waslooking
forward to meet the youngest prince.


His father seemed to sense his unease, resting a comforting hand on Namjoon's
shoulder. Namjoon sent him a quick look of gratitude, before the attention was
no longer on him, but on the scuffling sound from the top of the stairs.


The youngest Prince of Anune looked even more flustered than Namjoon, if that
was even possible, as his cheeks were flushed with color from almost tripping
down the stairs. In a swift moment, he was composed again, a hand reached out
to steady himself on the banister as he glided down the stairs, though his head
was bowed slightly and his face still had a red tinge.


This, however, didn't faze Namjoon. He reminded himself to pick up his jaw from
the floor as he took in the sight of his betrothed. The blond Prince was
breathtakingly beautiful. Big, brown eyes looking downcast, leading the gaze to
full, plush lips and a smooth curves of his jaw and neck; all soft edges and
slender limbs. A thin silver chain circled the prince's head, instead of the
stiff, metal crowns his parents wore, adorned with a pink pearl rather than the
traditional Anunian emerald. He wore an ornate, pale green brocade, form-
fitting around the torso and accentuating his broad shoulders. It was fastened
asymmetrically down the right side of his chest, and there was an open slit at
the bottom of the otherwise floor-length robe, showcasing detailed leather
boots. The Prince descended the stairs, coming to stand on the other side of
the thrones, head still bowed from embarrassment.


"Kim Namjoon." Namjoon stood upright at the sound of his name. The seated King
made a "come hither" gesture. Namjoon obeyed, coming forward to stand before
the foreign royals.


At a wave of the King's hand, the gorgeous Prince came forward, stepping down
the steps in front of the throne, to stand just before Namjoon.


"Kim Namjoon, this is my youngest son, Kim Seokjin. I am assured that you will
treat him well."


Namjoon took one of the prince's, Seokjin's, hands in his own, bending to press
a light kiss on the back of the smooth knuckles. "I promise, Your Majesty, I
will care for your son to the best of my ability. He will want for nothing."


The King only grunted in response.


Seokjin tentatively accepted Namjoon's outstretched elbow, and with an
encouraging nod from Namjoon's parents, the two strode out the palace doors.


Namjoon helped Seokjin into the waiting carriage before settling in himself,
drawing the curtains shut to block out the sun that was just past its peak.
With a slight wave of Namjoon's hand, the carriage took off, rattling slightly
against the polished cobblestone of the city streets.


The two royals sat in an awkward silence, but it was Seokjin who spoke first.


"Where are we going?" he asked, voice high-pitched and soft, sweet and melodic.


"Just a little over the border," Namjoon replied, peeking out of the curtains
to be sure the horseman wasn't trying to kidnap them, or anything. "Just a
little place I like to visit in my free time."


"Oh. Alright."


They settle back into silence again. Not to blame them. What do you say when
you meet the person you're supposed to marry for the first time?


"Oh, I almost forgot!" Namjoon started, bringing forward the flower he'd been
holding for the past ten minutes. "For you." It was a pink lotus, plucked from
the small pond just a bit away from the palace.


Seokjin's eyes lit up. He took the lotus from Namjoon's much bigger hands,
cupping it in his own, a contented smile making his face shine. He looked even
more beautiful when he smiled, Namjoon decided.


Seokjin turned his smile to Namjoon. "Thank you, it's lovely," he said, in his
soft voice, before tucking the short stem of the blossom behind his left ear.


Looking at his smiling face now, Namjoon decided, he could get used to this.


===============================================================================



Namjoon's "little place" was a medium-sized flat of land perched atop a cliff,
overlooking a plain of grass and meadow. In the distance, the sun could be
seen, beginning its sweep back to the horizon.


The carriage was stopped a short way's away, and Namjoon walked Seokjin over to
the edge, stopping a few meters away, where a large tree acted as a shade. He
spread out a blanket over the soft, trimmed grass, taking a seat and gesturing
for Seokjin to do so as well.


"So this is your place?" Seokjin remarked, stretching out his legs and leaning
back comfortably.


Namjoon nodded, setting their picnic basket just off to the side. "Yes, it is.
Do you like it?"


"It's beautiful, there's no denying that," Seokjin replied, "But I suppose I'm
a little underqualified to decide that."


"Why?"


Seokjin shrugged. "I've never been outside of the city."


"Really?" Namjoon pulled up one of his legs, to rest his arm down. Seokjin,
unfortunately, couldn't do that, lest he ruin his much-too-pretty robe.


"Yeah.. I've never really been allowed to."


"Would you like to travel to other places?"


"I suppose, if they all look as good as this."


Namjoon smiled. He could lose himself in the way the sunlight filtering through
the foliage above lit up Seokjin's eyes, accentuating his cheekbones, making
his hair look like it was made of light.


"You know," Seokjin started, "You're a lot nicer than I expected you to be."


Namjoon lifted an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"


"Well, for one, you asked to meet me before the wedding. Most people wouldn't
care."


"Well of course. Why wouldn't I want to get to know the person I may as well
spend the rest of my life with?"


Seokjin's lips curved slightly, but his head bowed. "I know. But.. Well.. I
suppose I've simply never met a royal quite like you."


"Royals that aren't hell-bent on getting what they want?"


"Royals that care." Seokjin's face was awash in the light peach glow of the
setting sun. "The only royals I've met are my family, and, well, you've seen
them. You know they aren't the warmest of people."


Namjoon blushed with embarrassment. "Well, I wouldn't say that."


"Oh, come on now. You know it's true."


"Ah, I suppose."


"I haven't quite met your parents, but I have met the old king of the kingdom
to the west."


"Degue?"


"Yes. By God, if my family is cold, then that old man is like the dead of
winter."


"Well, his son will be taking over soon. I'm good friends with him, he's a nice
guy."


"That's sounds alright. But that's beside the point." Seokjin brought his eyes
to Namjoon's. "You're a very nice man. I hope we can make this work."


Namjoon didn't notice that Seokjin's slender fingers were suddenly interlaced
with his own. "I hope so, too." His other hand came up to caress Seokjin's
cheek, closing the gap between them so their faces were just inches apart.
"Maybe we can learn to love each other."


Seokjin smiled. "Maybe."


It was Namjoon who leaned in first. Seokjin's lips were as soft and pillowy as
they looked. Their eyes fluttered shut, lost in the wonder of the chaste kiss.
Bathed in the warmth of the golden sun, it felt like an eternity before they
pulled apart.


When they did, the first thing Namjoon saw was the contented smile that crossed
Seokjin's lips.


"Seokjin?"


"Yes?"


"I think I like you."


Seokjin's laugh was like a fresh breath of air on a spring morning. "I think I
like you, too."


===============================================================================



Their wedding day came about much quicker than expected, and went by even
faster. Before he knew it, Seokjin was being carried up to their shared
bedchambers bridal style, head nuzzling into Namjoon's shoulder. They both only
had a glass or two of wine, favoring a pleasant buzz over full-on drunkenness.


Seokjin's eyes were closed when Namjoon opened the bedroom door, only opening
them when he was set down on the lush bedsheets.


"Are you ready?" Namjoon looked too worried for Seokjin's taste.


Seokjin gave him a reassuring smile, pulling him down to kiss him softly. "Yes,
I'm ready."


Seokjin was lounged back on the bed, head resting against the downy pillow.
Namjoon hovered over him, kissing him slowly, deeply. With a light swipe over
his lips, they parted, allowing their tongues to engage in an idle dance,
exploring territory neither of them had experienced before. Deft hands
unclasped the fasteners of Seokjin's ceremonial wedding robes, before slipping
it down the broad shoulders, and casting the inhibiting clothes aside.


Seokjin's hands found themselves on Namjoon's shoulders, at the nape of his
neck, trying to ground himself against the new sensations, as Namjoon's hands
swept deftly down his body. When Namjoon broke the kiss, Seokjin tried to
follow him, an almost pathetic whine coming from his throat. Namjoon chuckled
lowly.


"Just wait a bit, sweetheart." Namjoon paused for a bit, to rid himself of his
doublet and tunic, and to retrieve a little bottle of oil from the bedside
table.


Seokjin's eyes fell shut once more, as Namjoon's lips attached to the pulse
point at the sensitive spot of his neck. "O-Oh... Namjoon..."


Namjoon didn't stay at his neck for long, not wanting to leave marks, and came
back up to capture Seokjin's lips once again. As he did so, he pulled down the
loose pants Seokjin had worn beneath his robe.


"Ah.."


Namjoon ceased his movements. "Are you okay?" he asked, lips still brushing
against Seokjin's.


Seokjin nodded, face flushed a bit at his exposure. "I'm okay, go ahead."


Namjoon wrapped a large hand around Seokjin's length, stroking at a leisurely
pace to bring him to full hardness; Seokjin's breathing grew heavier. Namjoon
pressed one more kiss to his lips before bringing an oil-slicked finger to his
entrance. He just circled the rim at first, allowing Seokjin to acclimate to
the new sensations. With a nod from Seokjin, he carefully began working the
finger inside his hole, going slowly and pausing when needed to make sure
Seokjin was comfortable.


Slowly, a second and third finger were added, relaxing and stretching Seokjin
with smooth and deliberate movements. Seokjin had one hand holding onto
Namjoon's shoulder, the other was gripping the bedsheets like his life depended
on it. Namjoon noticed this but was quick to console him.


"Shh... It's okay," he murmured next to Seokjin's ear. "Relax... I've got you."


Seokjin tried unsuccessfully to steady his breathing, but it didn't matter,
because Namjoon crooked his fingers at exactly the right angle, causing Seokjin
to cry out and arch up into his touch.


"Ah.. Oh please," he mewled brokenly, "take me, please.."


Namjoon couldn't help but smile at that, removing his fingers and wiping them
on the sheets, and cupping Seokjin's face to kiss him again. "Anything you
want."


He removed his leggings, and coated his cock in the oil, stroking a few times
before lining himself up to Seokjin's entrance. He looked up at Seokjin again.
Through the slight haze of lust and alcohol, Namjoon saw and understood the
agreement and trust his newlywed husband put in him. Slowly, carefully, the
head of his cock breached the tight ring of muscle. Namjoon groaned at the
clenching heat, but restrained himself, watching Seokjin for any sign of
discomfort. Finding none, he continued to push in, enveloping his length in the
hot passage. When his balls met the flesh of Seokjin's ass, he stopped.


Seokjin was panting, his sweaty forehead pressed against Namjoon's own, trying
to get accustomed to the slight burn and the new feeling of being unbelievably
full. He felt Namjoon kiss him again, calming him, placating him. His eyes were
shut tight, but he muttered a soft "Go ahead" to Namjoon, hands steadied on his
solid shoulders.


"Okay." Namjoon held himself up by his forearms on either side of Seokjin's
head, and gave an experimental roll of his hips. The effect was immediate,
drawing a loud, pleasured moan from Seokjin. Namjoon groaned a bit himself,
feeling the patterns of Seokjin's passage rub against his cock, clenching
around him.


He continued to thrust into him, languidly rolling his hips and drinking in the
lovely moans that he elicited from his partner. He kept his movements gentle
and loose, angling his hips in order to hit the spot within Seokjin that made
him cry out.


Seokjin's head was thrown back, lost in the overwhelming sensations of
pleasure. "Ah!... Oh, Namjoon.."


Namjoon kissed along his jaw, murmuring encouragement: "I got you,
sweetheart... I got you.."


He brought one hand down to wrap around Seokjin's neglected cock, stroking in
time with his thrusts, bringing them both to the brink of orgasm.


Seokjin's cries grew louder and more desperate. "Oh god! Namjoon I--ah!"


"Just let it go, sweetheart."


With a wanton moan, Seokjin climaxed, shooting ropes of white along his chest
and over Namjoon's hand. Namjoon finished shortly after, the flexing muscles of
Seokjin's hole bringing him to orgasm.


Namjoon carefully pulled out, not wanting to over-sensitize his partner. His
limbs were wobbly and he breathed hard, but he managed to get up and retrieve a
washcloth to clean them both. Once he had wiped the last of the cum off their
bodies, he tossed the rag to the side, climbing into the bed, pulling Seokjin
close to him.


"Are you okay?"


"Mhm..." Seokjin murmured sleepily in response, quickly drifting off.


Namjoon smiled, pressing a kiss to his blond locks, and welcomed sleep.
Chapter End Notes
     did i mention im doing jokers too?
***** Ace of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     The Ace of Diamonds represents a letter or coin. It indicates some
     new money or new information entering one’s life. It can also have to
     do with a sudden shift in luck, good or bad. Additionally, due to the
     solitary nature of the pip, it could mean being very careful with
     your news, luck, or money—keeping it to yourself, as it were.
Taehyung hummed to himself as he sorted through the shelves of bandages,
ingredients, and various liquids. Despite his quite wild personality, he did
prefer to have his workspace as clean and organized as possible. Jeongguk had
tried to help, but after scolding him repeatedly that "no, basil and bay leaves
are not the same thing" and "please don't mix the magnesium and manganese,"
they decided it would be best if Taehyung worked alone. Jeongguk needed to go
back to the smithy, anyway.


Currently, however, said Jeongguk was "testing out" a newly made sword in the
courtyard-slash-training area below Taehyung's window (shirtless, Taehyung
noted with a smirk). He paused from stacking the rolls of gauze to look down
out the window. Jeongguk was hacking away at a wooden target, with noticeably
much better control and technique. Taehyung could see the muscles rippling
under his tanned skin, sweat glistening in the afternoon sun. Taehyung forced
himself to tear his gaze away before he ran downstairs and flung himself on his
boyfriend.


Taehyung suppressed a giggle at the scene in his head, of himself running into
the courtyard, flailing and collapsing onto the poor Jeongguk, shouting "Take
me!"


His internal scenario was interrupted by a tentative knock at the door.


"Come in!" Taehyung called, still tending to his over-filled shelf of
equipment. He heard the door open and close before he turned to face the new
occupant. "Oh, Jimin!" He smiled, throwing an arm over his shoulders and
escorting him over to the cot. Jimin had taken to wearing scarves more often,
due to the chill of the oncoming autumn, Taehyung supposed.


"Let's see here, eh?" Taehyung said, letting the suddenly very silent Jimin
have a seat. He noticed the slight flinch when he reached for his scarf, but
didn't say anything. He carefully peeled away the scarf, frowning at what he
saw.


The ring of dark bruises, which just last week were fading to almost
disappearance, were back in full swing. Deep, purpled skin, accented with
fresher, red marks. Taehyung felt sick as he thought about where Jimin might
have gotten them. But he kept his questions in, for the time being.


"It was from an acc--" Jimin's voice was weak and broken, making it pointless
to try and lie, but Taehyung knew better.


He shushed him. "Your throat probably has more damage as well. I'll mix up a
steamer for you."


Taehyung walked over to his work counter, picking little bottles of essence
(lemon, chamomile, eucalyptus) from his neatly arranged cabinet. As he mixed
the essences with water over his little stove, his mind was still running. How
could Jimin have relapsed? Inwardly he slapped himself. A week ago, just a few
days after the incident at the party, Jimin's bruises and throat were
practically healed already, so Taehyung had stupidly decided that he didn't
need regular checkups anymore.


He wondered, how on earth did Jimin get the bruises in the first place? When
Taehyung began treating him, he thought it was from someone abusive in his
life, which was reasonable. He didn't talk about it with Jimin because he had
supposed Jimin was away from said abusive person. So how in god's name did
Jimin get the exact same bruises again?


While deep inside his head, Taehyung nearly missed the pot of water boiling
over. He cursed, extinguishing the flame and pouring the water into a bowl,
wrapping it with a towel and bringing it back over to Jimin. As his patient
obediently bent his head over the bowl, Taehyung strained to hold his tongue.


Instead, he silently retreated to his work corner, meticulously replacing the
vials of fluid, cleaning the spilled water, cleaning and storing away the pot.
He knew that Jimin was extremely tight-lipped himself, and he didn't want to
add any more attain to his throat. Taehyung pursed his lips. Perhaps Yoongi
would know. Or...


Taehyung stopped himself. Yoongi was the reason Jimin was here. Yoongi had
saved Jimin from the slums. He couldn't possibly be the one hurting him, could
he?


Taehyung resigned himself to go to Yoongi. He was worried about Jimin.


===============================================================================



After Jimin had weakly cleared his throat to signal to Taehyung that he was
finished, Taehyung had taken the bowl from him, and sent him off, but not
before mixing a few drops of imported peppermint oil with a small bottle of
honey, with the instructions to swallow some every day in the morning and
before bedtime. Taehyung had cleaned the bowl and made sure his shelves and
cabinets were spick and span, then closed up shop to go look for the King.


It was easy to find him, as he had been cooped up in his workroom for the past
several days and, lo and behold, there he was. Taehyung rapped impatiently
against the open door.


Yoongi looked up. "Oh, Taehyung." He stood, pushing the bits of platinum fringe
out of his eyes. "What do you need?"


"I wanted to talk about Jimin." At this, Taehyung could see the visible strain
that came upon Yoongi's features: his jaw clenched slightly, and his posture
became more drawn and defensive.


"What about Jimin?"


Taehyung crossed his arms, going into "doctor mode" as Jeongguk called it. "His
bruises and throat are getting worse. I didn't ask about it at the beginning
because I thought the problem was resolved, and because I wanted to give Jimin
some space if he was escaping an abusive household, but now it's clear that
something is still terribly wrong." His eyes were glaring, almost accusing.
"Someone is hurting him."


It took a few seconds for Yoongi to respond, but even when he did, he spoke in
short, clipped tones. "Thank you, Taehyung. I'll address this."


"'
Address
 this? With all due respect,
Your Majesty
," Taehyung's voice was brimming with rage and angry mockery that only he and
few others could get away with, "This isn't some minuscule matter that you can
just brush off! This is Park Jimin, who, from what you said, is your best
childhood friend. He won't even talk to you and you treat him like he's no more
than a pet dog!"


Yoongi remained silent.


"You two act like you don't even know each other! You keep saying how much he
means to you, how much you care about him, yet you can't seem to say anything
to him or about him!"


"..."


"Well unlike you, I actually like Jimin, and I'd like to keep him safe and
healthy and
alive
."


Yoongi stood frozen as Taehyung rolled his eyes in disappointment and disgust.


"What kind of friend are you?" was Taehyung's final quip before storming out of
the study; the air displacement causing some of the papers to flutter to the
floor.


...


...


...


Of course, Yoongi knew that it was no coincidence that the bruises returned
after Jimin started continuing his... affair with Hoseok. He didn't wholly know
why he chose to say nothing. It simply didn't feel like the right time.
***** Two of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     This card is about sharing, whether that’s news and gossip, or
     sharing your luck or fortune with someone else. The opposite of the
     Ace, it rings reminiscent of the phrase "a little bird told me," and
     echoes the passage of information.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Seokjin blinked at the warm rays of sunshine streaming in through the windows,
shining across his face. He stretched up his arms, sighing at the sudden
freedom of his cramped muscles. He rubbed his eyes, before climbing out of bed
and padding over to the bureau, where Namjoon was poring over some papers.
Seokjin rested his chin on Namjoon's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his
waist.
 
"Morning, love," Seokjin murmured, morning voice deep and gravelly.
 
"Morning." Namjoon's reply sounded seemingly indifferent, but Seokjin felt the
dimples beneath his lips when he pressed a kiss to his husband's cheek.
 
Seokjin looked over at the bureau. "What'you doing there?"
 
"Messenger just brought in the mail. I thought I'd go over as much as I could
before the day starts," Namjoon answered, tearing open a letter bearing the Min
family crest. "Ah, from Yoongi. Hmm.. Border laws, politics, the Far Western
kingdoms..."
 
"I'll leave you to it then," Seokjin said, patting Namjoon on the shoulder,
before walking over to the door, to tell the nearest servant to send up their
breakfast.
 
The minutes Seokjin spent waiting were absolutely boring, so he went back to
hugging Namjoon.
 
 
"Love, I'm busy."
 
 
"And I'm bored."
 
 
Namjoon continued to diligently sift through the letters even as Seokjin
nuzzled into his neck.
 
 
Pouting, Seokjin pulled away to stand beside Namjoon, snatching a few papers.
"Let me take a look at these."
 
 
Namjoon paused, looking unsure, but nodded his head. "Breakfast takes forever
anyways."
 
 
Seokjin grinned in victory, before turning his attention to the letter at the
top of his pile. He quirked a brow in interest when he recognized the wax seal.
 
 
He peeled open the envelope, lifting out the crisply folded piece of paper. He
flipped it open, eager for some words from his faraway family.
 
 
What he read made him freeze. Seokjin's expectant expression became blank, his
jaw hanging open as he scanned the paper.
 
 
Namjoon only looked up when he heard the schiiiick of paper falling onto the
floor. His face twisted in concern, arm reaching out to steady a shell-shocked
Seokjin. Glassy eyes met his. Seokjin's gaze flitted from Namjoon to the floor,
before his knees suddenly buckled. Namjoon held him as he collapsed to the
floor, holding him against his chest.
 
 
"He's dead," Seokjin said. "My brother. He's dead."
===============================================================================
Jimin gasped for breath as Hoseok relinquished his hold for a few seconds,
though it was difficult to do so while being pounded from behind. His hands
gripped the headboard tightly, mind slightly hazy from the lack of oxygen. He
registered the ache in his knees, the grunts from behind him, and the slapping
of skin on skin echoing in the room.
 
 
What little air he'd drawn into his lungs was forced out when Jimin was
suddenly flipped onto his back. It eased the pain in his knees but allowed
Hoseok to trap his wrists in one hand and pin them to the bed.
 
 
Hoseok's eyes were closed, lost in pleasure as he quickly and roughly moved in
and out of Jimin. With the new angle, the head of his shaft was pressing
against Jimin's prostate with each thrust. Jimin moaned from the stimulation,
back arching. "H-Hoseok--"
 
 
The elder's eyes flew open, but they were scarily unfocused. His other hand
clamped around Jimin's neck again, cutting off his voice and air. Jimin shook
with fear, but he felt his orgasm approaching nonetheless. Hoseok's speed and
ferocity didn't falter.
 
 
"H-Hos-seok--" Jimin croaked. He searched for something, anything in Hoseok's
eyes, trying to reach out to him. But he found nothing.
 
 
Jimin let out a strangled cry. He felt his own cum splatter his chest before
the black spots in his vision carried him to unconsciousness.
Chapter End Notes
     I have to say, I'm very disappointed with this chapter.. It's waaaaay
     too short, and writers block is a pain in the ass. But I wanted to
     keep to my schedule, so I hope you'll forgive me!
***** Three of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     The Three of Diamonds can be represented by gifts. This card shows
     generosity—sometimes even unwilling generosity. This may seem like a
     sign of irresponsibility, but it can also simply receiving a gift, or
     an expansion of fortunes which allows the person to be generous.
"Alright, then. I'll start packing."
 
 
Yoongi held his breath as Jimin quietly shut the door. Once again, he'd lost
the nerve to talk to Jimin about the actual situation that was plaguing his
mind. Yoongi "reasoned" with himself, saying this wasn't the right time, Jimin
was close to Seokjin and would be greatly affected by the news. But all the
reasoning in the world couldn't stop the pangs of guilt that stung his heart as
he walked away.
 
 
He found his way to Taehyung (and Jeongguk's) bedroom (they shared it, but it
was supposed to be a "secret").
The door opened a few moments after a firm knock. Jeongguk stood in the
doorway, shirtless and wearing only leggings, his tunic tangled in meaty
fingers.
 
 
"Oh, Your Majesty," he greeted with a slight bow of his head.
 
 
"Evening," Yoongi responded. "I need you and Taehyung to pack. We'll be staying
in Anune for a few days."
 
 
Jeongguk frowned. He pulled the wrinkled tunic over his head, and leaned
against the doorway, arms crossed. "What's going on in Anune? And why the both
of us?"
 
 
"You remember Seokjin, right? King Namjoon's husband?"
 
 
Jeongguk nodded.
 
 
"His brother, the King of Anune, passed away. Seokjin invited Jimin and I to
Anune to attend the funeral." Yoongi sighed, "As per custom when visiting a
kingdom that doesn't quite like me, I'm required by law to bring Hoseok. I want
you to keep an eye on him, his actions have been a bit--" Yoongi bit his lip as
he pondered his choice of words, "--worrisome."
 
 
Jeongguk looked more than a little perturbed. "And why do you need Taehyung? I
don't think it's good for him to be going--"
 
 
"Not good for me to be going where?" Taehyung had suddenly appeared next to the
bed, leaning against one of the bedposts, hair wet, and nude, save for a towel
slung around his waist. He had a blank expression on his face.
 
 
Jeongguk glared at Yoongi before responding. "It's nothing, babe."
 
 
"Nothing?" Taehyung said, raising an eyebrow. "Seeing how tense you are,
Gukkie, it's hard to believe that 'It's nothing, babe.'"
 
 
"I just need you to come along to watch over Jimin for a few days." The warning
look from Jeongguk encouraged Yoongi to be careful with his words. "There's an
event in Anune we will be attending."
 
 
"An event?" Taehyung said, dripping with false excitement and thinly veiled
sarcasm. "Why didn't you say so?"
 
 
"We leave in two days, alright?"
 
 
Jeongguk nodded, lips a thin line, before shutting the door.
===============================================================================
Upon arriving in Anune, Jimin immediately embraced a waiting Seokjin, causing
them both to burst into tears. "I'm so sorry," Jimin murmured into Seokjin's
neck. Seokjin smiled even as tears shimmered on his cheeks, before looking up
at Yoongi in thanks. Yoongi, unsettled by the harsh glares of the Anunian
guards, merely nodded.
 
 
~-~
 
 
The ceremony itself was much longer than any Deguian funeral, Jeongguk thought
with unease. He had expected a short prayer, maybe a eulogy or two, a song, and
a finish. Instead, the funeral consisted of a full Mass, a praying of the
rosary, and eulogies from the entire Royal family.
 
 
The King's corpse was laid in an open coffin, on a layer of white silk, and
clothed in a robe with a rich olive hue. His skin was pale, and as cold as his
infamous demeanor.
 
 
Jeongguk's eyes never left Taehyung, save for the occasional obligatory glance
at Hoseok. Taehyung wouldn't look him in the eye, but Jeongguk saw his
expression slowly morph as he realized what kind of "event" this was.
 
 
Jeongguk shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as Seokjin's mother stepped down
from the ambo, and the young wife of the late King took her place to begin her
eulogy. His hand found Taehyung's. Taehyung seemed to snap out of his musings.
He looked at Jeongguk, and leaned over.
 
 
"How fitting, huh?" Taehyung whispered. "He's wearing green."
 
 
Jeongguk tensed. "And?"
 
 
Taehyung had an odd glint in his eye. "Those loose-lipped attendants speak so
loudly." He clicked his tongue, "They say the King was poisoned, by the Queen
herself."
 
 
"Tae!" Jeongguk hissed. "You can't say that!"
 
 
Taehyung rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying. It fits. Green for poison." He sat
back. "Perhaps that's the reason why there was a shortage of red fabric while I
was--"
 
 
Jeongguk's hand clenched around his boyfriend's. They locked glares. A battle
of wills, daring the other to speak first.
 
 
Finish your sentence. I dare you.
 
 
Scold me. I dare you.
 
 
Taehyung's gaze burned into Jeongguk's, but they both refused to concede. The
two remained frozen, even through the light murmurs that arose as the Queen
finished her eulogy. Still fires that blazed with equal intensity seemed to set
each other alight.
 
 
Their staring contest was interrupted when Yoongi, who was seated beside
Taehyung, reached over and smacked both their hands, extinguishing them with a
stern glance. Taehyung huffed indignantly, wrenching his hand away and turning
his attention to the teary-eyed Seokjin at the ambo.
 
 
Jeongguk looked forward as well, still uncomfortable in the hard wooden pews.
He tuned out Seokjin's eulogy, however.
 
 
He should have never allowed Taehyung to come here. Sure, Yoongi might have had
him killed, but it would be worth it. Taehyung never handled death in a good
way, even if it didn't personally affect him. Jeongguk had feigned sickness on
the day of Yoongi's father's funeral just to prevent Taehyung from attending.
He didn't know if he could handle the aftermath of... what happened... again.
===============================================================================
After the funeral, the congregation gathered in the banquet hall of the palace.
Namjoon, standing with Seokjin, scanned the crowd.
 
 
"What's going on over there?" He wondered, gesturing.
 
 
Seokjin looked over. The young Queen, Sooyoung, seemed to be arguing with both
his parents and her own. He nestled his hand in the crook of Namjoon's arm and
tugged him over.
 
 
"--Majesties, I know this is a bad time, but I just want to know..." The Queen
grew silent as Namjoon and Seokjin approached.
 
 
"Eomma, Appa." Seokjin greeted his parents. "Your Majesties," he bowed to his
in-laws. "Sooyoung." The Queen received no more than a slight nod of the head
and a slight smile.
 
 
"Excuse us for interrupting," Namjoon apologized. "We just wanted to, ah,
properly greet you."
 
 
"It's quite alright, son," Seokjin's father said. "Although it seems that
Sooyoung has some important matters to speak about."
 
 
"Yes, thank you, Your Majesty," Sooyoung answered with a pointed look at
Seokjin. "I just wanted to make sure of who will rule Anune as of my husband's
passing."
 
 
"Sooyoung," her father scolded her. "You know it is against tradition for a
woman to rule by herself, not to mention that you are being extremely rude."
 
 
"Perhaps it's time for a change," Sooyoung remarked indignantly, with complete
disregard for the last comment.
 
 
"Absolutely not." Her father turned to Seokjin's parents. "I would assume that
you would like to resume power?"
 
 
The elderly couple exchanged glances. "Unfortunately not," his father replied.
"My health is not the best, and I do not want my country to have a weak
leader." He extended a hand to Seokjin and Namjoon. "As my second son is wedded
to the King of Sule, it is only right that they both rule my kingdom as well."
 
 
"Very well," Sooyoung's mother conceded.
 
 
Sooyoung looked indignant. "But Mother! Father!"
 
 
She was silenced with a harsh look from her father. "It is final. And stop it
with the attitude."
 
 
Sooyoung seemed to bite her tongue. "Very well," she curtly responded. "Your
Majesties," she gave a slight bow, before leaving.
 
 
The remaining royals stood in the silence for a bit.
 
 
"I don't know what is with that girl," Sooyoung's mother remarked. "She's
barely mourning his death."
 
 
"We sincerely apologize for her rudeness," her father said, bowing to Namjoon,
Seokjin and his parents.
 
 
"It's quite alright," Seokjin's mother said. "Perhaps it's been just a bit too
hard on her."
 
 
"Perhaps," Sooyoung's father still seemed uneasy. He gave his wife a look. "If
you'll excuse us." With a slight dip of the head, they were gone as well.
 
 
Finally alone, Seokjin's parents turned to him and Namjoon. Seokjin's mother
took his face in her hands. "Oh, my boy," she sighed, "this must have been so
difficult for you." She kissed his cheek and hugged him.
 
 
"I'm alright, Eomma," he said, kissing her back.
 
 
Namjoon was still visibly uncomfortable, in shock from the decision. "Are you
sure you want to entrust us with Anune?"
 
 
"Of course," Seokjin's father answered with a warm smile, patting Namjoon's
shoulder. "You two have done a wonderful job with Sule; and there's no one else
I'd rather have ruling this kingdom." He turned to Seokjin. "Your brother was a
great man."
 
 
Seokjin gave a slight smile and nodded. "I know, Appa."
 
 
"And I know you are, too." His father beamed, still full of sadness, but hope,
as well. He embraced the young couple. "Both of you."
***** Four of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     This card symbolizes the absence of news. With the Four of Diamonds,
     the card indicates a dull waiting period, possibly a prolonged one.
     This can mean “no news is good news,” or that the client must wait
     for a bit before they can receive a proper resolution to their
     situation.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"Hey."
 
 
Jimin turned. "Oh, hi, Seokjin," he replied, as the elder came to sit beside
him on the bed of the guestroom.
 
 
"Why are you in here? We prepared four guestrooms for all of you; there's an
empty one at the end of the hall."
 
 
"Um... I'm sharing a room with one of them."
 
 
Seokjin looked on in interest. "With whom?"
 
 
"Uh.."
 
 
"Not Taehyung or Jeongguk, we all know they're sleeping together," Seokjin
chuckled. He gasped with a thought. "Are you sleeping with Yoongi?"
 
 
"No, hyung..." He couldn't meet Seokjin's eyes as he finished, "I'm staying
with Lord Hoseok."
 
 
"Oh." Silence permeated the air as Seokjin searched for something to say. "Are
you...?"
 
 
Jimin flushed. "Yeah, we... Uh... Sleep together."
 
 
"Does Yoongi know?"
 
 
"I... I suppose." Sweat was beading along Jimin's forehead. His face was
burning.
 
 
"Jimin. Look at me."
 
 
Jimin obeyed, swallowing as he prepared himself for whatever lecture Seokjin
had for him.
 
 
"Look, Jimin," Seokjin tried to look reassuring, "I'm all for you doing what
you want, but this just seems so sudden. Didn't you just meet him when you
moved into the palace?"
 
 
"Um..." Jimin's face was red, turning hot under the pressure. "Not...
Necessarily."
 
 
"Jimin?" Seokjin questioned. He placed a hand on his forehead. "Oh, goodness,
you're burning up."
 
 
"I'm fine, hyung, really--"
 
 
"No. Here, take off your doublet, you must be so hot under all those layers...
Oh my..." Seokjin mumbled to himself. He had unbuttoned the top of Jimin's top,
loosening the high collar and exposing the circle of bruises around his neck.
 
 
"Seokjin-hyung..."
 
 
"Jimin, is this why you had an attack at the party?"
 
 
Jimin froze. "...yes."
 
 
Seokjin bit his lip, debating whether or not to ask his next question. "Is
someone doing this to you?"
 
 
"...yes..."
 
 
"Is it Yoongi? I know you know him from before, and he did bring you to the
castle so suddenly--"
 
 
"No! No, hyung, it's not Yoongi-hyung, I promise."
 
 
"Okay," Seokjin breathed with relief, thankful that his preconceptions of
Deguians weren't true. The relief quickly left his features when he realized
the other candidate. "Is it Hoseok?"
 
 
"Hyung, I can explain--"
 
 
"He's abusing you?!"
 
 
"It's not what it seems like!"
 
 
"What does it seem like, then?" Seokjin asked, enraged that someone would be
hurting Jimin, and that Jimin was somewhat defending him.
 
 
"I..." Jimin started, but faltered. "I knew him from when I was... Um..."
 
 
Seokjin, understanding that being aggressive would not bode too well for this
situation, attempted to calm himself. "It's okay, Jimin. I'm sorry for my
outburst. Go ahead."
 
 
"I was... I worked--I used to be... Umm.." Jimin hid his face in shame. "I
worked in a brothel."
 
 
Needless to say, Seokjin was shocked, but he made an effort to hide it.
"Alright. That's okay, Jimin. You can continue."
 
 
"You don't think any less of me?"
 
 
"Of course not. Circumstances can be tough, I know that."
 
 
"Okay... Um, Hoseok was one of my regulars."
 
 
"And that's how you knew him?"
 
 
"Yes.."
 
 
"And the bruises?"
 
 
Jimin felt another rush of blood to his face, and rubbed his neck in
embarrassment. "I just supposed, that, you know, people have their kinks...
Like you know, you and Namjoon probably do some stuff..."
 
 
Seokjin's face turned tomato red, and his eyes grew wide.
 
 
Jimin looked up, and, seeing Seokjin's expression, panicked. "Oh my god, I'm so
sorry I didnt mean like--"
 
 
"It's alright Jimin," Seokjin said, still a bit flustered. He cleared his
throat. "Er.. Kink or not--"
 
 
Jimin grinned sheepishly in apology.
 
 
Seokjin nodded, patting his shoulder. "--It still doesn't excuse the fact that
he is hurting you."
 
 
"I-I just thought, uh," Jimin stuttered. "Well, we do this.. Thing in the b-
bedroom. He, uh, he calls me 'Minnie,' and he wants me to call him 'Master'
and, well, I just thought he went to far into his persona, or maybe he has a
thing with control."
 
 
"Do you like it?"
 
 
Jimin choked. "Umm... Kind of..?"
 
 
"Well that's okay, like you said, everyone has their kinks."
 
 
Jimin wondered if his face could get any redder.
 
 
"But to an extent. He's causing you actual harm to your health, that's why
Yoongi had your physician come along."
 
 
"How do you know that?"
 
 
Seokjin have a knowing smile. "We did have to prepare four bedrooms."
 
 
"Oh right."
 
 
Seokjin rubbed the tense muscles of Jimin's shoulder in an attempt to comfort
him. "Do either of them know?"
 
 
"They both know about the damage, and Yoongi knows that Hoseok and I sleep
together, but I haven't told them that he is the reason behind he bruises,"
Jimin answered slowly.
 
 
Seokjin took a moment before responding, choosing his words carefully. "Do you
enjoy sleeping with Hoseok? Or is it for his benefit?"
 
 
Jimin blinked. His gaze turned downcast once again. "I... I'm not quite sure."
 
 
"You don't have to stay here, you know. The guestroom is open." They both knew
the other implication behind Seokjin's words: a silent urge to stop this...
affair.
 
 
"Thank you, hyung. I'll think about it."
 
 
Jimin's answer wasn't satisfactory for Seokjin. "You could at least tell Yoongi
or your physician the full truth."
 
 
"I don't... think I can do that..."
 
 
Seokjin sighed. "That's alright, Jimin, I understand. Just promise me you'll
tell if he hurts you again."
 
 
Jimin nodded.
 
 
Seokjin pulled him into a hug, enfolding him in his welcoming arms. "Promise me
you'll be okay."
 
 
"I will, hyung."
 
 
They pulled apart, small smiles gracing their faces.
 
 
"I should go, Namjoon will be looking for me," Seokjin said.
 
 
"Alright."
 
 
Seokjin gave Jimin one last look, searching him, trying to make sure that he
would keep himself safe. Somewhat satisfied, he rose, making for the door.
 
 
"Seokjin-hyung?"
 
 
"Yes?"
 
 
"Can I ask, why are you so worried about me? You just attended your brother's
funeral."
 
 
Seokjin smiled. "My brother once told me: 'Mourn the dead, but cry for the
living.' You're my friend, Jimin. I care about you."
 
 
"Oh." Jimin said. "Thank you, hyung."
 
 
"Anytime, Jimin."
===============================================================================
"What the hell was that?!"
 
 
Taehyung looked up innocently. "Profanity."
 
 
"Don't do that," Jeongguk pleaded. "You know what I'm talking about."
 
 
"As a matter of fact, I don't," Taehyung leaned back, hands planted on the
duvet. "Enlighten me, if you please."
 
 
Jeongguk was brimming with frustration. "'It fits?' 'Green for poison?' 'A
shortage of red fabric?'"
 
 
Taehyung still appeared unfazed. "Your point?"
 
 
"You can't make comments like that at a funeral, Tae. Especially after--"
 
 
"Alright, okay!"
 
 
Jeongguk breathed heavily, with forced calm. "I should never have let you
come."
 
 
"Excuse me?"
 
 
"You worry me, Tae!"
 
 
Taehyung's eyes were flaming again. "You don't have to fucking worry about me.
You're not my fucking father!" Angry, he stuffed his clothes back into the
large bag he carried, and began storming out the door.
 
 
"Tae!" Jeongguk cried out. "Tae, I'm sorry! Come back!"
 
 
"Get the hell off my back, Jeongguk!" He slammed the door behind him.
 
 
Taehyung found his way to the empty guestroom he had found earlier. To his
surprise, Jimin was unpacking his things into the drawers.
 
 
"Don't ask," was his response to Jimin's confused look. He nodded toward the
bed. "You okay to share?"
Chapter End Notes
     Odd question: how do you pronounce "Sule" "Degue" and "Anune" in your
     head? For me, it's "sool" "deh-gyew" and "ah-noo-nay"
***** Five of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     The Five of Diamonds represents good luck, or laughter. This card
     shows the subject surrounded by friends, fortune, and happiness. It’s
     not the all-encompassing joy found in other cards, but it’s generally
     positive nonetheless. Depending on context, however, it can also mean
     something like “the last laugh,” and have slightly more sinister
     connotations.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Jeongguk stirs at the sound of shuffling in the dark. He groans, fumbling for a
match on the bedside table and lighting the lamp.
 
 
Taehyung was rummaging through the drawers. "I forgot my underwear," he says
curtly.
 
 
"Sure you did," Jeongguk snorted, voice still low and groggy with sleep.
 
 
Taehyung didn't move, still stubbornly posed with one hand buried in the
drawer. After a beat, Jeongguk sighed.
 
 
"C'm'ere, you," he mumbled, gesturing for Taehyung to come over.
 
 
Taehyung feigned reluctance as he glided over to the bed, slipping beneath the
covers and snuggling back against his boyfriend's chest. "I'm not easy, you
know."
 
 
"Uh huh," Jeongguk countered, reaching one arm beneath Taehyung to pull him in
closer. "That's why you're back in our bed."
 
 
"Jimin hogs the blankets!"
 
 
"Sure he does." Jeongguk paused to extinguish the lamp before he lifted a hand
to caress Taehyung's hair. "I'm sorry for before."
 
 
Taehyung was playing with the fingers of Jeongguk's other hand, letting it warm
his cold ones. "I know. I'm sorry too."
 
 
Jeongguk smiled, pushing aside the elder's fringe to place a light peck at his
temple.
 
 
They stayed like that for a while, the seconds blending into minutes as the two
just lay there, enveloped in each other's warmth and presence.
 
 
"Promise me you're okay?"
 
 
Taehyung stiffened at Jeongguk's question. He sat up, a wild mix of frantic and
frozen with eyes glinting in the dim light. "Why do you always have to say
that?" He begged, annoyed and angry and frustrated.
 
 
"Tae, lie down," Jeongguk said slowly, in an attempt to pacify him, not wanting
a repeat of before. "I just want to make sure you're okay. You did scare me
there."
 
 
"It's not your place to worry!"
 
 
"I care about you. How can I not worry?"
 
 
"Jeongguk, please don't make me do this."
 
 
"I just want to make sure you're safe."
 
 
Taehyung's features contorted, taking on a pained, twisted expression.
"Jeongguk, stop."
 
 
"Just stay here, please, Tae?" Jeongguk's fingers found Taehyung's once more,
but the elder was quick to wrench them away.
 
 
"I'm--I'm sorry, I can't deal with this right now," Taehyung hiccuped,
staggering back to the door in the dark, snatching a bundle of clothing from
the drawer before he left. "I can't d-deal with you right now."
===============================================================================
Several hours later, when the sky was just beginning to lighten, Jimin padded
his way onto his room's balcony. There he found a very intoxicated Taehyung,
seated beside a table bearing an almost-empty bottle of soju, a fresh one
already tangled in his slim fingers.
 
 
"I didn't think you to be the morning drinker type," Jimin said, sliding into
the other chair, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.
 
 
Taehyung nodded, raising his bottle slightly before tipping back another sip.
"Well, I didn't think my boyfriend was the hovering mama type, but it looks
like we're both discovering new things this morning."
 
 
Jimin gingerly picked up the near-empty bottle, sloshing the liquid around
inside before bringing it to his lips, taking just a small sip. "We all have
our moments where alcohol is the best therapist. The only question is the
cause."
 
 
"You got that right," Taehyung snorted.
 
 
"What did Gukkie do?"
 
 
"Don't call him that," Taehyung slurred. "Makes him sound like a fucking little
kid. Plus it reminds me of fucking him, and I don't want to have that on my
mind right now."
 
 
Jimin sighed. "He really does love you, you know."
 
 
"Hah," Taehyung lifted his bottle again. "To the boy who 'really does love'
me."
 
 
"You didn't answer the question, Tae."
 
 
"What question?"
 
 
"What did Jeongguk do?"
 
 
"You know Jiminnie? You really shouldn't be prying," Taehyung snapped back,
voice still slowed from the alcohol. "Not when you got all your little secrets
and whatnot."
 
 
It stung, there was no doubt about that. Jimin told himself that his friend's
filter was gone because he was intoxicated, but the echo of truth in his words
hung in the air like smoke.
 
 
"Fine then," Jimin ceded. He drank the last drops of the empty bottle, setting
it to the side as he felt the warmth settle in his stomach and spread
throughout his body. He debated whether or not to confess to Taehyung now. The
younger wasn't so drunk that he'd forget everything, but it might be a little
hazy. Jimin worried the drunkenness might alter Taehyung's reaction, even if it
was already angry and disappointed.
 
 
Jimin stayed silent, leaning back in his chair and letting himself enjoy the
light buzz. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, streaking the sky.
The palace and city were beginning to stir, the sounds of talking and movement
leisurely finding their ways to Jimin's ears.
 
 
Taehyung huffed suddenly, standing. He had finished a bit more than half his
bottle, slamming it back down on the table. "'M gonna go sleep it off," he
mumbled. He swayed on his way back to the bed, muttering under his breath about
underwear and stolen blankets.
 
 
Jimin watched him go, sighing. The sunlight cut through the viridescent glass
of the bottles, illuminating the worn wood of the table in green. Deciding to
save the servants the work, and Taehyung the questioning looks of their
friends, he picked up both bottles and exited the room.
 
 
Navigating the hallways of the palace in Degue was hard enough, and Jimin had
been living there for months. The Anunian palace could have been a labyrinth
for all Jimin knew.
 
 
He swished the remaining soju in the almost-empty bottle as he walked, debating
whether or not to drink it or toss it out. Figuring that he would be having
quite a long and dramatic day coming up, an excuse to sleep the whole day
seemed a good idea. He downed the last of the clear liquid, feeling the slight
burn on his tongue and at the back of his throat.
 
 
Somehow, he'd found his way to the kitchens. He plunked the empty bottles in a
cart of rubbish. Now, the pressing matter was finding his way back...
 
 
The alcohol in his system did not help his thought processes. He stumbled many
times, leaning against the wall for support. Through a haze, he barely
registered someone approaching him.
 
 
"Jimin? What are you doing?" The voice was familiar, but sounded distant, as if
underwater.
 
 
"Sleep," Jimin mumbled.
 
 
The person sighed, holding Jimin upright by his shoulders and helping him walk
somewhat more steadily.
 
 
Jimin frowned in confusion when the bedroom they came upon didn't have a
snoring Taehyung in the bed. The person, man, stranger, whatever, guided Jimin
into the bed, wrapping the blankets around him.
 
 
"'S not m' room," Jimin murmured, already beginning to fall back asleep under
the soft covers.
 
 
The person didn't answer, only stroked Jimin's hair for a moment before
exiting, leaving Jimin alone in the room.
Chapter End Notes
     Hi everyone, I've been having a generally very crappy couple of days,
     and i may not be able to post as often as I do. This is just a
     disclaimer so that if i screw up the schedule again, you will all
     know why. Love you all! <3
***** Six of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     The Six of Diamonds conjures up images of streets of gold,
     representing good decisions. No, not the Yellow Brick Road, but the
     idea’s the same. The person on the right path and merely needs to
     continue doing what they are doing and success will come.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It was late afternoon when Jimin woke up. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes.
 
 
As his vision focused, he looked about in confusion. This room, though similar,
was most definitely not the one he slept in the night before. His head ached
slightly as he tried to recall the memories of last night, or rather, that
morning. He knew he shouldn't drink, he was one hell of a lightweight.
 
 
Let's see, Taehyung was whining and drunk... Went to bed... Jimin made the
mistake of drinking the rest... Got lost in the hallways... Brought to this
room by...?
 
 
Jimin vaguely remembered recognizing the voice and face, but try as he might,
he could not exactly place the person who helped him to bed. The throbbing in
his head easing slightly, he hauled himself out of bed, padding over to the
mirror leaning against one of the walls. His hair looked like a rat's nest, his
sleep clothes were wrinkled and crumpled, and one of his arms was stiff from
having been laid on whilst sleeping.
 
 
He made for the door, thinking to go back down to the kitchens, as he hadn't
eaten for over half a day. However, as he reached for the knob, he jolted back,
startled, when the door opened.
 
 
Standing in the doorway was a familiar face, bearing an unmistakeable smile and
a bowl of rice and beef.
 
 
"Hoseok," Jimin breathed, surprised.
 
 
"Oh Jimin, you're up!" Hoseok greeted him, brushing past him to set the food on
a desk. "Are you alright? You looked quite inebriated this morning. Sit down,
sit down!"
 
 
Jimin takes a seat opposite Hoseok in the table. "Yes, I'm okay, thank you," he
replies, gratefully taking the bowl of food from the other.
 
 
"That's good," Hoseok said, watching Jimin eagerly begin to scarf down the
food. He started, carefully phrasing his question. "Are you going to stay with
the physician again?"
 
 
Jimin looked up, looking like some mix of a deer caught in headlights and a
chipmunk with stuffed cheeks.
 
 
Hoseok's eyes widened, frantic to amend his statement. "I mean, you don't have
to, I was just under the impression that you'd be staying with me for our time
here. You... Ah--You can stay with the physician if you like, but, you know,
I'm always free--"
 
 
Jimin swallowed, a small smile gracing his features, hiding the inner turmoil
beneath. "Of course I can stay with you tonight."
 
 
~-~
 
 
They didn't intend to have sex.
 
 
At least, that's what Hoseok told himself.
 
 
But God, he loved sleeping with Jimin.
 
 
The wet, clenching heat that enveloped his cock as he pounded into him, the
sweet, beautiful moans elicited from his full lips; it was absolutely
addicting.
 
 
Hoseok was hovering above Jimin, hands planted on either side of him. Their
skin glistened in the dim light of the pale moon. Sweat beaded on Hoseok's
brow.
 
 
Water.
 
 
Jimin was like a whole new world to explore, to get lost in again and again.
Hoseok never wanted to take his eyes off him.
 
 
Bubbles. Sunlight.
 
 
"Master, o-oh!" Jimin cried out, fingernails digging pink lines into the skin
of Hoseok's back, but he didn't care.
 
 
Hoseok swooped down to nip at the skin beneath Jimin's ear, to suckle at the
lobe. "Do you like this, Minnie?"
 
 
Jimin sobbed. "Yes, Master, oh god--!"
 
 
"Oh god!"
 
 
"You abomination!"
 
 
Hoseok's eyes slammed shut, hips still moving at their swift pace, even as he
tried to block out the memories.
 
 
"I didn't raise you to be this way."
 
 
"Faggot."
 
 
His knuckles turned white as they tangled into the fabric of the pillows below
Jimin.
 
 
"Your father and I have arranged a meeting with the daughter of the Kang
family."
 
 
"Perhaps the presence of a proper lady will set you straight."
 
 
Hoseok buried his face in the crook of Jimin's shoulder, drinking in his scent;
the sensations, the beautiful sensations; trying to lose himself in the
beautiful person below him.
 
 
"You're the Jung's faggot?"
 
 
"You're so pretty, Minnie," Hoseok breathed harshly.
 
 
"Oh thanks, I know I'm pretty. Do you say that to the boys before you put your
dick in their asses, too?"
 
 
One of Hoseok's hands found itself in the soft strands of Jimin's hair, tugging
slightly, causing the high-pitched keens to multiply.
 
 
"Or do you prefer it up your own ass, you atrocity?"
 
 
Hoseok was starting to lose it.
 
 
"Godless freak."
 
 
"A-Ah.. Master!"
 
 
"Don't touch me!"
 
 
Hoseok captured Jimin's pillowy lips in his own, biting the lower lip til it
turned cherry red.
 
 
Water.
 
 
Hoseok's hands wandered lower.
 
 
Drowning.
 
 
Fingers formed a necklace around Jimin's neck.
 
 
I can't breathe.
 
 
"M-Master--!" Jimin choked out. He looked desperately up into the other's eyes,
finding them closed. "Hose--"
 
 
Hoseok's eyes flew open, but they were hazy, unfocused. Almost like he didn't
even recognize Jimin.
 
 
Jimin clawed at Hoseok's grip, pressure building up in his face and chest as he
strained for air. "Ho-Hoseok y-you're hurting me--"
 
 
Hoseok stilled. He pulled out of Jimin, but he couldn't seem to wrench his
hands away. Jimin's erection wilted from the pain.
 
 
Tears streamed from his eyes. "Hoseok!"
 
 
In a last ditch effort, Jimin pulled as hard as he could at Hoseok's wrists. He
managed to yank himself free. He threw himself from the bed, gasping and
hiccupping as he tried to restore oxygen to his lungs. Sobbing, he wrapped one
of the blankets around him and fled the room.
 
 
~-~
 
 
Jimin broke through the first door he came across.
 
 
Yoongi looked up from his book, startled at first, but worry and concern
quickly flooded his expression.
 
 
Jimin stumbled over to where the King sat on his bed, collapsing before him and
bawling.
 
 
Book forgotten, Yoongi gathered the mess of a boy into his arms, pulling him
into the bed and under the covers. Jimin was curled up in the fetal position,
his face buried in Yoongi's chest, staining the fabric of his nightshirt with
tears. Yoongi enfolded Jimin in his arms, pulling him in closer even as he
cried.
 
 
"Shh... It's okay, I'm here," Yoongi murmured, rocking him back and forth,
stroking his hair soothingly. "You're okay, you're safe."
 
 
It took several minutes of this before Jimin's cries quieted, and even longer
before his breathing settled. His face was still wet with tears, but his eyes
remained closed, having come down from his fit and into the serenity of sleep.
Chapter End Notes
     Hello all! I just want to disclaim that I'm not doing so well right
     now. I'm trying as hard as I can to put out a chapter every two days,
     but it's getting really difficult with all the things going on. I'm
     still going to try, but if I miss a day, please don't be mad!
     On a side note: bon voyage ep 1 was so good! Also, I just rewatched
     the "bts waking each other up" video and oML SO MUCH CUDDLING
***** Seven of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     The Seven of Diamonds indicates that the questioner is being lied to.
     This lie almost always has to do with happiness. Perhaps the asker is
     happy being lied to, and little white lies sustain them. More often,
     though, the lies indicate trouble to come.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The ride back to Degue was a tense one. Jimin didn't speak of the night before;
in fact, he didn't speak at all. None of them did. Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi
sat in silence for the entire duration of the ride, and Yoongi suspected that
the situation was the same in the carriage carrying Hoseok and Jeongguk.
 
 
Upon their arrival, Yoongi noticed Jimin immediately making straight for the
bedrooms. Yoongi instructed the servants to bring their respective bags up to
their rooms before following after Jimin. He found him sitting on his bed,
staring blankly into nothingness. Jimin barely acknowledged Yoongi's presence.
 
 
"He was the best partner I'd ever had," Jimin stated, devoid of emotion or
expression.
 
 
Yoongi was almost hesitant to approach. "He was hurting you, Jimin."
 
 
"The choking wasn't even the worst part. His eyes were distant and hazy, like
he wasn't even there."
 
 
Yoongi sighed. "Jimin..." He sat beside Jimin on the bed. "He was hurting you,
but he can't hurt you anymore."
 
 
"I know." Jimin shied away from the elder's touch.
 
 
Yoongi didn't know what else to say, but Jimin's eyes were still trained on the
floor.
 
 
"It's impossible for me to ever have a normal relationship, isn't it?"
 
 
"That's not true, Jimin, and you know that."
 
 
"Do I really?" Jimin's voice took on a mirthless tone. "I made a living fucking
without feelings. The only semblance of a relationship I had was damaging to my
health. How broken am I that I constantly came back to a man that was hurting
me?" His breath caught. "Maybe I deserved it."
 
 
"Jimin--"
 
 
"I liked being with him, Yoongi! You never saw it, but he took care of me, he
spent time with me, got to know me. I stayed, even when he hurt me... for him."
 
 
Yoongi couldn't stop the slight pang of hurt that came with those words, and
his next question. "Did you love him?"
 
 
Jimin sucked in a breath and turned away, wringing his hands. It took several
moments before he could answer. "I... I don't think I know what love is." There
was another pause before he continued. "I don't understand love, and I don't
think I ever will."
 
 
"That's not an answer, Jimin."
 
 
"Yoongi, how the hell am I supposed to know what love is? The only people who
gave me any shreds of love disappeared along with my childhood. How am I
supposed to love someone?"
 
 
Yoongi waited a bit before he responded, mulling over Jimin's words. "Who
disappeared?"
 
 
Jimin's body stiffened, if not slightly. "Who else? My mother."
 
 
"You said 'people'."
 
 
"A slip of the tongue!" Jimin stammered.
 
 
A knowing smirk crossed Yoongi's face for a split second, despite the tense
atmosphere. "Jimin."
 
 
"Fine!" Jimin admitted. "It was you! You were my best friend, I loved you, you
loved me, but you left!"
 
 
Yoongi sighed. "I know. I'm sorry, Jimin, as I've said countless times before."
 
 
"I know you are." Jimin crossed his arms, as if making a wall of protection in
front of him. "Now you see? The bitch called Life ripped away all I had. The
people I loved--" Jimin's angry shell finally began to crack. "I'm not sure if
I can love someone again."
 
 
"Love is a complicated thing, that's true," Yoongi began. "But your past
relationships and experiences have nothing to do with your capacity to love
someone."
 
 
"Stop it, Yoongi," Jimin's voice hitched on his name. "I'm damaged."
 
 
"You and I both know that isn't true."
 
 
"Says who?"
 
 
"Says me." Yoongi placed his hands on Jimin's shoulders, forcing him to look
him in the eye. "I won't let you speak or think of yourself in such a negative
way. As your King, I forbid it," he added for good measure.
 
 
Jimin dropped his gaze, ashamed to look into his eyes, bottom lip caught
between his teeth. "Why do you care so much?" He asked softly.
 
 
"Because I'm your friend. Because, no matter what you say, I'm your friend.
Because, even if you give me the silent treatment for six months, I'm your
friend. Because like you said, I love you. Hey," Yoongi's hand tilted Jimin's
chin back up. "I care about you. Nothing will ever change that."
 
 
Jimin pressed his lips together, conflicted, but he couldn't hide the small
smile that just began to curl at the edges of his lips.
 
 
They were interrupted by a loud crash resonating through the halls, followed by
raised voices and screams.
 
 
Both Jimin and Yoongi jerked up, standing.
 
 
"I'm to go find the source of that commotion," Yoongi said.
 
 
Jimin trailed behind him. "I'll help you." He was quieter now, like all the
fight in him had left his body, but he walked with Yoongi nonetheless.
 
 
They listened for the increasingly louder yells, following them through the
halls. Jimin stole glances at Yoongi every now and then, wondering why he
couldn't read the King as well as Yoongi could read him. His inner turmoil was
put aside, as they came upon Taehyung and Jeongguk's shared bedroom. Jimin's
jaw fell at what he saw.
 
 
Taehyung was standing against the wall, his face red and streaked with tears,
brandishing one of two ceramic flower vases. The red and white carnations had
spilled onto the floor in a puddle of water, beside the other vase, which was
shattered and in pieces. Jeongguk was standing by the bed, hands up in a
defensive matter, trying to precariously step closer to his partner without
impaling himself on the shards of ceramic.
 
 
"Don't touch me!" Taehyung screeched, shaking the vase. "Don't come any
closer!"
 
 
Jeongguk kept his voice low. "Tae, you're okay, calm down..."
 
 
"Tae, put the vase down." Jimin shakily stepped in. He managed to meet the
other's eyes, but struggled to hide his shock at the fractured light that shone
through.
 
 
Taehyung was shaking. "Why can't you just leave me alone?!"
 
 
Yoongi had moved to stand beside Jeongguk, a guiding hand on his arm, urging
him to remain still. "Be careful with what you say," he spoke under his breath.
 
 
"I-I just want to help you," Jeongguk tried to keep his voice soft and
placating, still fearful of how volatile his boyfriend was.
 
 
"We can help you," Jimin added, slowly clearing a path through the ceramic
shards, inching closer to Taehyung.
 
 
"'Help me'?" Taehyung spoke and moved in a frantic manner, a shell-shocked look
in his eyes. He looked like a caged animal, but there was an edge of indignant
sarcasm to his words.
 
 
"Yes," Jeongguk responded. "I can take care of you."
 
 
Jimin tiptoed around the broken shards, almost within an arm's breadth of
Taehyung.
 
 
Taehyung tilted his head to the side, looking scarily off-kilter. "So we can
have a cheesy cliché romance, get married, be all domestic and shit?" His voice
carried a mocking tone.
 
 
"Yes! If that's what you want!" Jeongguk exclaimed, anxious to stop this
situation as soon as possible, but a squeeze on his arm from Yoongi indicated
that what he said was not the right thing to say.
 
 
"Yeah?" Spittle sprayed from Taehyung's mouth. "So we can turn out like every
other sad couple does?" There was a wild look in his eyes. "So we can get old,
broken, and full of hatred? So you can dump me for some whore when you get
bored of me?"
 
 
Jeongguk panicked. "No, no Taehyung please--"
 
 
"You'll just turn out an abusive drunk just like your father." Taehyung's words
dripped with venom.
 
 
Jeongguk froze. "Tae..?"
 
 
Jimin grabbed Taehyung by the wrists, wrenching the vase out of his grasp.
Jeongguk stood still and stony, Yoongi's hands steady on his shoulders.
Taehyung kept his eyes trained on him, but not in the adoring, loving way he
usually gazed upon his partner. By expression alone, it looked like Taehyung
had just stabbed Jeongguk, and was watching him bleed out. Jimin gave a slight
nod of agreement to Yoongi, before tugging a now silent Taehyung out of the
room.
 
 
Jeongguk slowly sank to his knees.
 
 
"Jeongguk, he didn't mean it," Yoongi murmured, following him down.
 
 
Like this, Jeongguk truly looked like the youngest of their group. All those
muscles and big figure just withered away, leaving the little kid that was
unnervingly fitting of his youthful features. He seemed to shrink into himself,
the innocence and sadness in his eyes shining through. "I know," he whispered,
"I know."
 
 
Yoongi soothingly rubbed circles into his back. "Was it about when he..." His
sentence trailed off, unable to find a word that made whatever event he spoke
of seem bearable.
 
 
"Yes," Jeongguk answered, his voice breathy and small.
 
 
"Okay." Yoongi sighed. "He'll be okay, Gukkie. You'll both be okay. We can work
it out."
 
 
Jeongguk's nod was barely noticeable, but Yoongi accepted it nonetheless.
 
 
"You'll be okay." Yoongi stood, offering a hand to Jeongguk. "I can take you to
your separate room."
 
 
"Okay."
 
 
Yoongi helped Jeongguk to his feet. As they began walking, Jeongguk spoke
softly under his breath.
 
 
"I..." He trailed off.
 
 
"Go ahead," Yoongi prompted gently.
 
 
"I... I hoped that we could reconcile today..." Jeongguk looked on, his gaze
hollow and full of anguish all at once. "I just wanted to spend my birthday
with the person I love."
Chapter End Notes
     Yay early chapter! (if just by a few hours but whatever:p) I just
     needed to get a chapter up today, because
     Royals and Roses has 5000+ hits!!
     I just noticed this and I got so excited haha.. Anyway, thank you all
     for sticking with me as the story progresses.. Love you all<3
***** Eight of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     Much like the Two of Diamonds, the Eight of this suit means an
     exchange of information. It can also indicate talking about money,
     getting good news about one’s fortunes, or someone’s natural wit.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Yoongi slowly opened the door of Jimin's bedroom. He had heard sounds coming
from within, and had gone to check on the younger. Sure enough, Jimin was
tangled in the bedsheets, tossing and turning, quietly crying even as he slept.
Yoongi carefully approached the bed. He lit one of the bedside lamps, before
crouching beside the bed.
 
 
"Jiminnie," he whispered softly.
 
 
Jimin's eyelids fluttered slightly, but he didn't wake. He frowned in his
sleep, whimpering and shoving at the pillows.
 
 
"Jiminnie," Yoongi gently shook his shoulder.
 
 
The younger jolted at his touch, eyes flying open. Jimin's hands came up to
latch to Yoongi's wrist, eyes filled with fear with tears shining at the
corners. He looked up at Yoongi, but didn't seem to quite know where he was,
gaze flicking across the room.
 
 
"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's me," Yoongi spoke softly, as if to a little bird, as
if Jimin might just shatter with the touch of a raised voice.
 
 
It took Jimin a while to come to his senses, before the look in his eyes
focused on the elder's face. "Yoongi?"
 
 
"Yeah." Yoongi smiled comfortingly. "You're okay, you just had a nightmare."
 
 
Jimin, finally settling back into his surroundings, abruptly let go of the
elder's wrist. "O-Okay."
 
 
"Are you alright?" Yoongi asked, as Jimin was still shaking a bit.
 
 
"Yeah," Jimin replied quickly. "Just--you know... nightmare."
 
 
"Do you want to talk about it?"
 
 
"It was..." He trailed off. "It's... nothing, I'm fine."
 
 
"Okay," Yoongi said. "It's alright if you don't want to talk."
 
 
Jimin stayed silent.
 
 
"Do you want me to stay?"
 
 
The younger hesitated, thinking. "...yes, please," he answered after a long
pause.
 
 
Yoongi nodded, and he knelt at the edge of the bed, sitting back on his feet
and resting his elbows on the mattress.
 
 
They just stayed like that for some amount of time. Jimin's fingers restlessly
played with the creases and folds in the sheets, still jumpy from his dream.
Yoongi calmed him, soft whispers and gentle touches, until he didn't look as if
he was about to bolt at any given moment.
 
 
Yoongi almost didn't notice when Jimin's fingers interlocked with his.
 
 
"You know," Jimin finally said, "my mom used to say that talking about your
dreams makes them easier to understand."
 
 
Yoongi tilted his head slightly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
 
 
Jimin nodded, if not with brief hesitation. "I'm.. Ah.. standing in the doorway
of a burning building. The.. The flames are all around me, but there's a clear
path out the door. I don't know why, but I'm just... standing there."
 
 
Yoongi listened intently.
 
 
"Then there's a man, he comes from, uh, from deeper inside the building." Jimin
swallowed. "His body is on fire. I remember thinking that he started the fire.
But then he grabs me--" his grip tightened around Yoongi's, "--and it... It
burns. It hurts so bad. I-I look him in the eye, and his eyesockets are...
They're like mirrors... But I can't see me in them.."
 
 
"What do you mean?"
 
 
"I.. I can see the burning room around me, but where I'm supposed to be,
there's just.. Darkness." Jimin's voice became small, and his gaze fixed on
some random area of nothingness.
 
 
A frown creased Yoongi's brow when Jimin stopped speaking. "Is... Is that all?"
 
 
Jimin snapped out of his stupor. "Oh... No.."
 
 
Yoongi sensed his uneasiness and squeezed his hand in what he hoped was
comforting way. "You don't have to go on."
 
 
"Okay."
 
 
Nothing really felt the same between them anymore. Impeccable closeness was
split by the lengthy years and unspoken arguments. Where warmth and friendship
lacked, cold silence filled in the cracks.
 
 
"What do you think it means?" Jimin asked quietly.
 
 
Yoongi exhaled, and slightly pursed his lips. "Well, there's obviously some
imagery, yes? I don't reckon there's ever been a fire in town, at least not in
recent years."
 
 
Jimin nodded in faint agreement.
 
 
"So it's up to interpretation." Yoongi thought for a moment. "I vaguely recall
reading a book that stated that fire in a dream has two meanings. It can either
mean that you are undergoing a difficult transition, or an enlightenment. Which
do you think it is?"
 
 
"I'm not.... quite sure."
 
 
"That's okay." Yoongi patted Jimin's hand. "Sometimes it's better just to let
the dream go."
 
 
Another period of silence tailed the conversation. Jimin grew visibly more
shaken as the lack of sound went on. "Could you keep talking? Please... I just
need to take my mind off it."
 
 
Yoongi was quick to answer. "Of course, um.. Let's see, I... Ah... Never really
explained to you why I was gone for so long."
 
 
"Oh, yes," Jimin said, suddenly listening with rapt attention.
 
 
"The truth is," Yoongi began, "I was suffering from an abdominal infection."
 
 
"Oh. Really?"
 
 
Yoongi nodded. "Yes. My parents tried everything they could, remedies, novel
medicines, shamans, but nothing helped. I was in terrible pain for over half a
year."
 
 
Jimin's gaze was held low, ashamed to look the elder in the eye, ashamed of
being angry at him.
 
 
"Until Taehyung's father, the old physician, came up with something. It is a
new practice; surgery, he called it. He cut into my abdomen, and removed all
the dead and infectious tissue. I still have the scar right here," he tapped
the lower right side of his torso. "It worked, but the anesthesia he used
contained hemlock, which almost killed me. That's why I was gone for so long."
Yoongi's expression was grave as his train of thought went on. "I was his
penultimate patient."
 
 
"Who was the last?"
 
 
Yoongi's mistake dawned on him and he grew silent.
 
 
Jimin frowned in worry. "Who was it, Yoongi?"
 
 
"I don't think this is the right time for you to be talking about this, Jimin--
"
 
 
"Just tell me."
 
 
Yoongi sucked in a breath. "It was his son."
 
 
Jimin sat up. "What?"
 
 
"Taehyung... He..."
 
 
"Yoongi-hyung, just tell me!"
 
 
Yoongi spoke slowly, almost unwillingly. "Taehyung tried to... take his life."
 
 
There was a tense silence.
 
 
"His mother passed away when he was thirteen, so his father sent his brother
and sister to their aunt in the countryside. Taehyung stayed to help him with
the infirmary." Yoongi gnawed at the inside of his cheek. "He wasn't really the
same after that. I only saw him a few times, but he wasn't the Taehyung you
know now."
 
 
Jimin's eyes had turned downcast.
 
 
"His father was the one to find him. Picked him up, brought him to the
infirmary, bandaged his wrists. He made Taehyung promise to never do it again,
but he still seemed so lifeless after."
 
 
Yoongi almost stopped, but a quick look from Jimin signaled him to continue.
 
 
"When his father died just months later, people said it was from the stress
from Taehyung's attempt. It's been over four years since, and Taehyung still
hasn't forgiven himself."
 
 
"And Jeongguk?" Jimin questioned softly. "That's why they're fighting?"
 
 
"They became friends when Taehyung treated him after he sliced up his leg in
the smithy." Yoongi smiled sadly. "Jeongguk was the one who really brought our
Taehyung back out. The entire palace was really shocked. It was like the happy
little kid never left."
 
 
Jimin shared the sad smile. The idea of their two dongsaengs being anything but
happy was unthinkable.
 
 
"Jeongguk is always wary of Taehyung. He's scared of the thought of losing him
again." Yoongi looked up. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone in too much
detail."
 
 
"It's okay."
 
 
The impermeable silence returned.
 
 
"Jimin... You should, ah, try to get back to sleep."
 
 
Jimin immediately shook his head. "There's too much in my mind.. I'll lose it
if you leave me alone."
 
 
"Will you sleep if I stay?"
 
 
Jimin's words died on his lips as he realized the corner he'd backed himself
into. He certainly didn't want to seem needy; an agreement to Yoongi's company
would be a quite peculiar one-eighty from how he'd been treating the other for
the past months. Still, he was still shaken from his dreams.
 
 
Slowly, reluctantly, he responded with a soft "Yes."
 
 
Yoongi hid a smile as he stood to sit on the edge of the bed. "I hope you don't
mind; the floor isn't exactly the most comfortable place to be."
 
 
"Yeah, yeah of course." Jimin scooted closer to the middle of the bed to make
room for Yoongi.
 
 
The young King drew his legs up onto the bed, throwing the covers over his
legs. Jimin still kept his distance, though one of his hands was instinctively
inching towards Yoongi's.
 
 
"Sleep, Jiminnie," Yoongi said, voice gentle. "Are you sure you're okay?"
 
 
Jimin nodded, hand slipping into the others. "I'm okay." A few more beats
passed before he added, "I'm sorry for ever being angry at you."
 
 
"It's alright, you didn't know."
 
 
There was still guilt plaguing the younger, but Yoongi's response was enough to
pacify him for the time being. There was no denying the comfort he felt from
the King's familiar presence, his eyelids finally beginning to droop.
 
 
Yoongi stayed still, gently running his thumb along their interlocked hands.
When he heard Jimin's breathing begin to even out, he contemplated leaving. He
wasn't sure if that's what the younger expected of him to do. But, as he
discovered when he shifted just a bit in his seat, Jimin was very sensitive to
movement, and only held more tightly to his hand, curling up into Yoongi's
side.
 
 
Yoongi's fate was decided then: he'd stay with Jimin for the night. However, he
was curiously intrigued of how Jimin's sleeping position changed through the
night. By the time the moon was at its peak, Yoongi had slid down so he was
laying on his back, head resting on a pillow. He carded his fingers through
Jimin's hair, as the younger had gradually snuggled closer til his head and
upper torso rested on the other's chest and stomach, hand still linked in one
of his. Yoongi would admit, he was a bit taken aback by Jimin's sudden
unabashed touchiness, but he brushed it off as an unfiltered need for physical
closeness. Yoongi hands absentmindedly ran up and down Jimin's back and through
his hair, quietly calming him, keeping him calm in his sleep.
 
 
Yoongi, on the contrary, didn't sleep at all. He remained awake, watching over
Jimin, and soothing him when his dreams caused him to fit. Yoongi sort of lost
himself in the long hours between then and the break of dawn, feeling Jimin's
presence leeching warmth into his skin, caressing the soft hair, and getting
caught up in how peaceful Jimin looked asleep. He wasn't worried, or afraid, or
tortured by some memories. He was just asleep. They say sleep makes you look
younger; it never felt more true. Jimin's serene features skyrocketed Yoongi
back to the little boy he'd met all those years ago.
 
 
Yoongi felt odd, the warm feelings in his chest swirling around. He had missed
Jimin dearly all these years, but the divide between them during this conflict
felt like a millennium. How was it, he wondered, that in the midst of all this
commotion, he wound up with the boy he loved laying atop him, sleeping
serenely. It felt too good to be true.
 
 
Jimin stirred when the sun fully rose, beaming rays of warmth into the room.
His eyes fluttered drowsily, voice gravelly with sleep. "Hey."
 
 
"Hey."
 
 
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, "Good morning, hyung."
 
 
Yoongi smiled internally at the unintentional cuteness that Jimin displayed.
"Good morning." He allowed the raven-haired boy to fully pull himself up before
he himself rose. "Here, you can stay for a bit, I'll bring up your breakfast,
okay?"
 
 
"Okay," Jimin nodded, whispering a soft "Thank you" as the other stood and made
for the door.
 
 
"Jimin?"
 
 
"Yes?"
 
 
Yoongi had a slight grin on his face. "You finally called me hyung."
 
 
Jimin's sleepy eyes immediately widened and his face turned red. He watched as
the elder shut the door behind him, a ghost of a smile lingering at his lips.
Chapter End Notes
     Im so so so sorry for the delay!! I know I promised to try and keep
     up the schedule but I've had so much going on in the past days and
     the story was the last thing on my mind. Sorry again, but I still
     love you all<3
***** Nine of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     Daydreams are the epitome of the Nine of Diamonds. Think of this card
     as a leisurely day spent in the sun with nothing particular to do.
     It’s a card of relative idleness, but without any real negativity.
     It’s a well- earned rest, a chance to plan for the future, and time
     to stop and smell the flowers.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Jimin lounged at the balcony table of his bedroom, head tilted back as he
relaxed from his most recent steam therapy session. The sun was high in the
sky, raining light and warmth on the palace gardens below. Jimin's little
alcove was somewhat shielded from the sun, so he relished in the comfortable
heat without the harsh edge.
 
 
He had just sent a letter to Seokjin, telling him that yes, he finally decided
to do what was best for him. He was secretly glad that his friend lived a
kingdom over; if Seokjin was in Degue he might have thrown a full-on party,
knowing him.
 
 
There was a knock at his door, and a servant girl brought in his lunch. Jimin
gave her a small smile and a silver coin he fished from his pocket, still not
used to the feeling of being waited on. He nibbled absentmindedly at the slices
of bread and cheese and picked at the small selection of fruits and vegetables
on his tray.
 
 
That morning, Yoongi had brought him his breakfast in bed, before leaving to
attend to his kingly duties and whatnot. As Jimin's memories from the night
before slowly came back to him, a pit of guilt sink deeper into his stomach. He
regretted being angry with Yoongi, for pushing him away because of a situation
neither of them had control over. Beside that was the guilt of not having
shared his own story. Yoongi had told him about himself and Taehyung, and Jimin
felt he needed to share his side of the coin.
 
 
Speaking of Taehyung, Jimin knew the physician noticed his even more increased
unease during their session today. Jimin was already shaky from the guilt of
his injury and Taehyung's fight with Jeongguk, but Taehyung tended to him with
a smile and a talkative air.
 
 
Jimin sighed. How was he, the peasant son of a prostitute who worked in a
whorehouse himself, living in the guestroom of a castle, with friends that
cared about him as much as they did? The doting Queen of a neighboring kingdom;
the kind and funny physician; his soft and gentle childhood friend, the King?
The pangs of his conscience seemed to form a tighter noose than Hoseok's hands.
 
 
...
 
 
Hoseok.
 
 
The berry between Jimin's fingers didn't seem so appetizing anymore.
 
 
He was happy to be away from him, but there was a part of him that was still
torn. Hoseok was a sweet guy most of the time, only growing harsh during sex.
Jimin's consolation to himself all this time had been the look in his partner's
eyes. It was like Hoseok wasn't really there.
 
 
Jimin shook himself out of that train of thought. It wasn't good to be thinking
about that now.
 
 
~-~
 
 
A few hours later, Jimin found himself with his knuckles tentatively resting
against the door of Yoongi's study.
 
 
He took a deep breath before knocking softly.
 
 
Yoongi opened the door not a minute later. "Jimin," he breathed.
 
 
"Yoongi... Hyung," Jimin said. "A-Are you free right now? I want to talk to you
about something."
 
 
"Yeah, yeah sure, I just finished up the majority of my paperwork." Yoongi's
arm slid into the curve of the younger's back as they started walking out the
door, into the hallways. "We can walk around the gardens, okay?"
 
 
Jimin nodded, deciding not to begin until they were within the privacy of the
vast gardens. When the soles of their shoes clacked rhythmically against the
cobblestone of the garden walkways, he spurred himself to talk. "I... I wanted
to tell you about what happened to me."
 
 
"Alright."
 
 
The raven-haired boy inhaled and exhaled heavily before beginning. "After you
left, I waited for you every day. I missed you so much. My mother told me you
weren't coming back, but.. I still waited."
 
 
Yoongi's head was bowed in remorse.
 
 
"But then," Jimin swallowed, "once, I stayed out too long after dark. Someone
ambushed me on my way back, and... um.."
 
 
"He touched you?"
 
 
Jimin shivered at the memory of the man's filthy hands on his skin. "Yes."
 
 
He flinched a bit as Yoongi's hand slipped into his. "Are you sure you want to
tell me this?"
 
 
The younger nodded. "You deserve to know." He took a moment to collect himself
before going on. "After that night, something else happened, a few months
later. Some guy and his gang came to the brothel. I-I didn't see because I was
with the kids in the s-separate house, but apparently Junseo had some kind of
debts, and the g-guy killed him, taking over the brothel to get the money."
 
 
Their hands remained entwined, which eased Jimin's shakiness somewhat.
 
 
"Then, they raided the place, and they--" he choked, "they k-killed all the
older ones."
 
 
Realization dawned on Yoongi. "Including your mom."
 
 
Jimin nodded, swallowing thickly.
 
 
"You don't have to continue if you don't want to."
 
 
"No," Jimin insisted, "I want to tell you the whole story."
 
 
Jimin took another minute to calm himself before going on, and Yoongi waited
patiently.
 
 
"So, since they killed, like h-half the brothel, they realized they barely had
any p-prostitutes left, the idiots." A grave grin crossed Jimin's face for a
second, like the whole situation would have been hilarious if not horribly
tragic. "So... They went for us kids."
 
 
"And that's how you ended up in the business."
 
 
"Yeah... They grabbed every kid over the age of fifteen, so about five of us,
and put us to work." Jimin's hand tightened around Yoongi's, and, in the dim
lamplight, he could see tears glittering as they fell.
 
 
"Jimin," Yoongi stopped him, "you can stop. You've told me more than enough."
 
 
Jimin locked eyes with him, strained with rage and sorrow and fear, and it was
clear that he was reliving everything from that night. "I saw my mother dead.
They slit her throat." He spoke falteringly, like the words were fighting with
themselves to leave his mouth or choke in his throat. "They were wrapping her
in a blanket, but there was so much blood. They didn't even let me see her, the
bastards--"
 
 
Yoongi pulled Jimin into him, effectively stopping his words, and holding him
comfortingly as he felt tears wet the front of his shirt. "Shh... It's okay,
Jimin. You're safe now."
 
 
"Eomma...."
 
 
Yoongi's heart nearly broke when he heard the raw sorrow and desperation in
Jimin's little cries. He held him tighter, vowing to never let him be hurt
again.
 
 
Jimin sobbed. "Oh.. I'm sorry," his voice cracked as he wiped his eyes on his
sleeve. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"
 
 
"It's okay, it's okay," Yoongi said. They were only a few meters away from a
wooden bench covered by a flowered arbor. Yoongi carefully maneuvered the two
of them over, seating Jimin beside him.
 
 
Jimin wiped at his face, sniffling and attempting to calm himself, Yoongi's
comforting hand on his back. "I'm sorry.."
 
 
"It's okay," Yoongi murmured, "You're okay, Jimin. You're so brave."
 
 
Brave? Jimin was confused, as the word didn't seem to fit himself. "B-Brave?"
 
 
The elder smiled. "You survived. Through all that shit, you survived. You took
care of yourself." He pulled the slightly shocked boy into a hug. "Let me take
care of you, now, okay?"
 
 
It took several minutes, but Jimin gradually allowed himself to sink into
Yoongi's arms. He felt calmer now, the weight that he'd been carrying finally
lifted off his chest. "Okay," he whispered.
Chapter End Notes
     Uploading early to get it out of the way, because I have a term paper
     I should have worked on instead of writing this ://////
***** Ten of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     This card conjures up images of a treasure chest. With the Ten of
     Diamonds, one can expect happiness. This card leaves a little room
     for sorrow or woe, but generally indicates the fulfillment of
     personal wants, however small.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Seokjin typically hated clichés. But it was no lie that he felt positively warm
and fuzzy as he kissed his husband. He actually enjoyed seeing Namjoon slightly
intoxicated. All the worry would go from his face, stress forgotten, as it
should be. Especially on that particular day.
 
 
They were both lightly buzzed when Seokjin tugged Namjoon away from the quiet
dinner into their bedchambers. Seokjin couldn't stop himself from giggling a
bit as they stumbled in the hallways, locking lips in sloppy kisses. "C'mon,
love," he smiled against the taller's lips, still pulling him along. He didn't
stop until they collapsed onto their canopied bed, Namjoon sprawled on his back
with Seokjin nipping affectionately at his neck.
 
 
"Don't fall asleep, yet," Seokjin murmured. "I still haven't given you my
present."
 
 
"Mhm," Namjoon hummed in soft agreement, leaning down to connect their lips in
an open-mouthed kiss. Light touches turned into a hot, fierce battle, swipes of
tongue and bites just hard enough to draw blood. "Mnh.. Love.." The younger
grunted softly.
 
 
Seokjin looked up at him, big, pretty eyes, full red lips still brushing
against his own.
 
 
Namjoon would never get used to how lovely his husband was. "About your
present."
 
 
"Oh, of course," Seokjin flashed him a dazzling smile, but there was a little
devilish edge to it.
 
 
He slid down the young King's body, slowly opening the clasps of his shirt,
exposing the firm and lightly muscled chest, running slender fingers down the
slight dips. Twin pairs of deep, dark eyes never broke contact. Seokjin deftly
unlaced Namjoon's leggings, tugging them down to his mid-thigh before stroking
at his hardening semi. Namjoon groaned, head tilting back and long fingers
anchoring themselves in the elder's soft blond locks. Seokjin grinned, a small
"Unh" leaving his lips at the sensation.
 
 
In one swift movement, his head fell to take Namjoon's cock into his mouth.
Seokjin hollowed his cheeks, feeling the familiar weight on his tongue and
against his throat. His movements remained slow and smooth and deliberate,
lifting his head and lowering it, resting one stern hand at the King's hipbone
as he felt the younger's involuntary bucking.
 
 
He pulled off, clicking his tongue. "Eager."
 
 
Namjoon struggled to remain still as his husband settled for feather-like licks
on the head of his cock. "Love, I'm.. Ah--"
 
 
Seokjin varied the pressure, sometimes using light kitten licks, sometimes
suckling at the ruddy head, sometimes dragging the tip of his tongue from the
top of the sac up til the head, tracing teasingly along the little grooves.
 
 
All muscles in the silvery-haired male tightened. "Seokjin, I'm--"
 
 
He was cut off by a firm hand around the base of his cock, effectively halting
his oncoming climax.
 
 
"Seokjin," Namjoon almost whined breathlessly.
 
 
Seokjin couldn't suppress a pleased chuckle. "What about the main event,
darling?"
 
 
The blond sat up, undoing and removing his own shirt and leggings moved up so
he was straddling the other's thighs, careful to avoid his leaking cock whilst
leisurely stroking his own.
 
 
"Touch me, Joonie." Seokjin's voice was lower, and carried a kind of lustful
darkness and mystery that only came out in their recent sex life. It was a
complete contrast from his motherly, sweet self, and Namjoon had absolutely no
qualms about that.
 
 
Namjoon rested his hands on Seokjin's hips, running his thumbs over the slight
jut of the bones. He slid them back, gently squeezing the supple flesh of
Seokjin's ass, smirking at the heaviness in the other's breaths. Big hands
spread the full cheeks apart, allowing a wandering touch to slip down the
cleft. Seokjin's breath hitched, and Namjoon lifted an eyebrow in curiosity as
his finger came to rest on a hard object.
 
 
"What's this?" Namjoon traced his finger around the puffy rim of Seokjin's
entrance.
 
 
"Hah... It's.. Ah," Seokjin's eyelids fluttered as the slight pressure was
maddening. "Handmade, glass plug.. I--ah--stretched myself earlier.."
 
 
Namjoon hummed in appreciation. "Does it feel good?"
 
 
"Y-Yes." Seokjin steadied himself, with hands on Namjoon's chest, regaining his
composure. "But I like your cock more."
 
 
"Of course you do, love." With a smooth movement, Namjoon carefully removed the
plug, causing a little cry from Seokjin. The glass plug was clear, thick, and
flared at the base, and slick with oil.
 
 
Seokjin plucked it from his hand, setting it off to the side. He lifted his
hips, positioning himself over the King's neglected member. Slowly, he slid
down.
 
 
The couple moaned simultaneously as Seokjin lowered himself so his ass was
flush to Namjoon's sac. The blond rotated his hips, adjusting easily, before
beginning to roll his hips at a steady pace. He bit his lip, leaning over.
Seokjin cupped his husband's cheek in one hand, guiding him in for a kiss.
 
 
"Happy birthday, love," Seokjin murmured.
 
 
~-~
 
 
Jimin knew he'd have to deal with Hoseok eventually, but that didn't stop the
little pit of dread that formed in his stomach as he ran into him in the halls.
 
 
Hoseok was looking over a handful of papers as Jimin was on his way back to his
room from the infirmary. Jimin hadn't really gone anywhere else since the
incident. He froze when he saw the familiar mess of chestnut hair. There was a
churning conflict going on in his mind, between the comforting familiarity he'd
associated with him, and the memory of gasping for air as hands formed a lock
around his neck.
 
 
Jimin kept his head low, hoping that Hoseok was too engrossed in his work that
he wouldn't notice. Thankfully, that was exactly what happened, as they passed
without a hitch. Jimin quickly ducked behind a corner, bracing himself against
a wall to release the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
 
 
As he did so, he heard a hard voice echo through the passageway the same way
he'd come. Jimin paused, and he quieted himself enough to listen.
 
 
"Do you have the reports from the border towns, Lord Hoseok?" It was Yoongi.
 
 
Hoseok's unease was unbearably obvious."Your Majesty, you can just call me
Hoseok, you kno--"
 
 
"Lord Hoseok," Yoongi's tone was sharp as ever, "Do you or do you not have the
reports?"
 
 
"Yes, Your Majesty, here." There was a shuffling of papers before Yoongi
dismissed him coldly.
 
 
Jimin heard the click of Yoongi's boots coming closer, so he stepped out.
 
 
"Jimin!" Yoongi said, startled. "How long have you been--"
 
 
"I can deal with Hoseok myself, hyung," Jimin told him. "I'm okay."
 
 
"I know you are, but--" Yoongi was cut off by the seemingly millionth time by
the sound of screams and something smashing. "But we have more pressing matters
to deal with," Yoongi sighed.
 
 
Jimin and Yoongi had become the unspoken mediators for whenever Taehyung and
Jeongguk had an argument, but it seemed to have little effect on the overall
outcome. Still, they followed the noises, preparing themselves for the wild
action to come.
 
 
"I swear," Yoongi muttered, "If they keep at it like this, my mother will think
I've turned this place into a madhouse."
Chapter End Notes
     We interrupt your regular scheduled programming of angst and
     exposition for some happy cliché birthday sex! Essentially Im
     extremely exhausted, so I apologize in advance, and I'm having some
     severe writers block, and my tired mind decided that the best way to
     fix that was by writing some half-assed porn. And I realized that
     namjin was a little neglected over there in Sule, so yeah. They still
     exist! They're still important!
     And that concludes our brief alert. Your regularly scheduled
     programming of angst and exposition will continue shortly
***** Jack of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     The Jack of Diamonds displays a young boy, and means that some good
     news is about to arrive.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It had taken a very, very long time for Yoongi and Jimin to convince the
resident turbulent couple to have a sit-down and talk civilly. Well, convincing
Jeongguk was considerably easier, even though he was on edge from Taehyung's
remark about his father. Taehyung, on the other hand, was a completely
different story. Poor Jimin was affronted with a tantrum akin to that of a
bratty child, and choice words that would make any sailor proud. It took
several hours of bribes, threats, and begging to get Taehyung to agree.
 
 
Currently, Yoongi, Jeongguk, Jimin, and Taehyung were seated around the small
table in Yoongi's study. Jeongguk fidgeted nervously in his seat, while
Taehyung was curiously still, staring blankly at the table. Jimin eyed the two
nervously before nodding at Yoongi.
 
 
The eldest cleared his throat. "You two know why we're here."
 
 
"Because you're worried we'll burn the castle down?" Taehyung deadpanned.
 
 
"Because you two have important issues to work out." Yoongi glared at Taehyung.
"And because I will not have you causing a ruckus in my palace every day of the
week."
 
 
"Sorry, hyung," Jeongguk whispered.
 
 
Yoongi gave a small smile, not his usual gummy grin, but just enough to calm
the maknae. "It's alright, Jeongguk. We just need the two of you to talk."
 
 
"We're worried," Jimin added, though he did look much more pointedly at
Taehyung, who seemed quite spaced out and not at all worried about the
conversation.
 
 
Jeongguk shifted in his seat before leaning forward, elbows on the table.
"Well, Taehyung, you know that I love you, and--"
 
 
"Do I?" Taehyung mocked, leaning back in his chair.
 
 
"Watch yourself, Taehyung." Yoongi scolded. "You've been a bit of an ass these
past few weeks and I am sick of it."
 
 
Jimin gave Yoongi a cautious look, knowing full well that Taehyung could snap
at any moment.
 
 
"Fine, fine," Taehyung said.
 
 
"You can continue, Gukkie," Jimin soothed.
 
 
"I... I love you, Taehyung, and.." Jeongguk exhaled heavily, "I'm just worried
about you."
 
 
Taehyung tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. "You know, we wouldn't
be in this position if you weren't so worried."
 
 
"How can I not be worried, Taehyung?" The youngest snapped
uncharacteristically. "You almost killed yourself years ago, and you are
capable of doing it again, so when you make remarks like you did at the
funeral, how in God's name do you expect me to not be worried?" Jeongguk was
starting to get riled up, almost sobbing the words.
 
 
Taehyung felt his throat was beginning to close up, like it did when he was
about to cry, but his pride was too strong. The position of his head was more
to keep the tears from falling than anything else. "You make me feel like I'm
some kind of doll. Like I'll break at any moment." He looked back down,
blinking furiously to keep his feelings hidden. "Guess what, Gukkie? I'm not
made of glass. I can handle myself."
 
 
"I understand that, but can you please just let me take care of you, I cou--
" Jeongguk's voice broke. "I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. If you
died..."
 
 
Jimin's small hands found Jeongguk's, squeezing gently to comfort him. Yoongi
still sat stoically, monitoring the two maknaes.
 
 
"I love you, TaeTae, and it hurts so much whenever you talk about death."
 
 
Taehyung moved like he was about to make a snarky response, but Jimin looked at
him sternly.
 
 
"Listen," Jimin pleaded.
 
 
Jeongguk had finally managed to lock eyes with his partner. "I saw you, while
you were recovering. I went by the infirmary to pick up something for the
swordsmaker, and I saw you in the cot."
 
 
Taehyung's expression softened just faintly.
 
 
"I didn't know who you were, but I was so young, the image stayed in my mind
forever." His lip trembled. "You were so pale. You looked so lifeless. It.. It
shocked me."
 
 
Taehyung's jaw was clenched, and the tears began to fall.
 
 
Yoongi rubbed Jeongguk's shoulder, releasing some of his tension, while Jimin
switched to Taehyung: not touching him yet, just moving closer, so he could
feel another presence.
 
 
Jeongguk still continued. "When I met you, I was older, you were older, but I
recognized you. I-I didn't say anything, but I wanted to make you happy. I
wanted you to have a friend." He gave a small smile. "Then, goddamn it, I fell
in love with you."
 
 
Taehyung's walls of pride broke down as the tears flowed freely, not flinching
when Jimin held his hand. Jimin himself was starting to feel tears prickling at
his eyes as Jeongguk's story unfolded, and while Yoongi's face didn't show it,
Jimin knew it affected him as well.
 
 
Jeongguk was weeping fully. As he had been trying to placate his boyfriend for
the past weeks, his own emotions had been pushed down, and were now rushing
back at full force. "I just... I couldn't live with myself if you hurt yourself
again. I never told you this b-but.." He hiccupped. "Well, I told you how my d-
dad hurt me, and my mom, and my brother. My brother.. He got out by studying
abroad, but my mother got out by taking the same route you did, only... she
succeeded."
 
 
"My God, Gukkie!" Taehyung sobbed, wrenching himself from his chair and running
around the table to embrace his boyfriend, all the shame and guilt and remorse
washing over him.
 
 
Jeongguk buried his face in Taehyung's shoulder. "Whenever you s-scare me like
that, it reminds me of her, and... God!" He held Taehyung tighter to himself.
"I lost her, and I can't lose you too."
 
 
"God, Jeongguk," Taehyung cried aloud, "I'm so, so, so sorry, for everything."
 
 
Jeongguk only hugged him closer.
 
 
Taehyung pressed a kiss to the side of Jeongguk's head. "I just... I hate when
people treat me like I'll break. It makes me feel so fragile and worthless."
 
 
"I'm sorry if I have--"
 
 
"But you haven't," Taehyung kissed him again. "I was being a bitch earlier; you
have never, ever, made me feel that way. I really have been such an ass to you,
and I'm so, so sorry for everything."
 
 
"It's okay, it's okay," Jeongguk whispered. "It's okay."
 
 
"God, I love you so much."
 
 
"I love you so much."
 
 
Yoongi had walked over to Jimin, and allowed him to cry into his shirt as they
watched and listened.
 
 
Jeongguk rocked them both back and forth, holding tight to the other as they
cried. "I promise, I will never, ever, make you feel broken."
 
 
"I promise I'll never hurt myself."
 
 
The two had sunk down from the chair to the floor, clinging closely to each
other.
 
 
"I'm so sorry," Taehyung repeated over and over. Deep down he knew it was his
fault that this entire debacle happened.
 
 
At the same time, Jeongguk was there, assuring him that "It's okay" as many
times as he apologized.
 
 
How did Taehyung ever get so lucky to deserve a guy like Jeongguk? Someone who
loved him so much, who cared for him, so much that he stayed even through
Taehyung's volatile tantrums? At the thought, the young red-haired physician
sobbed and clutched at the fabric of Jeongguk's shirt.
 
 
Jimin's own crying had eased, with only small tears sliding down his cheeks. He
held Yoongi's hand, happy that there was peace between their youngest friends.
 
 
Jeongguk and Taehyung stayed as they were for some time, melting into one
another, whispering apologies and promises of love until their tears stopped.
When they finally pulled apart, Jeongguk wiped the remnants of wetness from his
eyes and extended a hand to his boyfriend, bringing them both to their feet.
They kissed one last time before turning their attention to the elders in the
room.
 
 
Taehyung was the first to thank them, hugging them both. "Thank you so much,"
he murmured. "And I'm sorry for breaking so many vases."
 
 
Yoongi chuckled a bit. "You're all right Tae."
 
 
Jeongguk was a bit more solemn, but grateful nonetheless. "You helped us come
back together."
 
 
"You did that yourself, Gukkie," Jimin smiled, "We just made sure you didn't
destroy anything in the process."
 
 
Good-natured laughter filled the room, replacing the sadness and anger, and, in
that exact moment, they were happy.
Chapter End Notes
     Yay, happy chapter! On a serious note, and before anyone says
     anything about the reason why Tae was pissed at Gukkie, Taehyung's
     thoughts and worries are based on things I myself have felt after an
     incident. This is one of the more cathartic elements of the story,
     for me anyway.
     Side note: I also have some breather stories coming along, so you can
     keep an eye out for those between chapters, along with a sequel for
     my hybrid!au oneshot:)
***** Queen of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     This card represents sensuality. The Queen of Diamonds is all about
     duty and splendor. This queenly figure could be a person or partner
     in the questioner’s life who inspires joy and happiness. More likely,
     though, she indicates someone who does what must be done or a lover
     with a deeply sexual side.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Jimin woke in a now familiar position, with Yoongi's chest as his pillow, and
his arm wrapped comfortably around him. He vaguely remembered having a
nightmare, and Yoongi climbing into bed with him once again. But he wasn't
quite yet used to waking still in the King's arms. Jimin gently lifted Yoongi's
arm off him, carefully sliding out of bed, thankful that the King was a deep
sleeper. He rubbed his eyes and padded over to the washroom. A part of him
complained, a childish want to stay in bed with Yoongi, curl up with him and
cuddle into their shared warmth. Jimin shook off the thought, closing the door
behind him.
 
 
He caught sight of himself in the mirror, a luxury he had never known until
just months ago. His hair was soft and shiny, skin clear of grime, purple
bruises slowly fading in darkness. He didn't look like a poor boy raised in the
slums.
 
 
Jimin turned away from the mirror. The clashing sense of identity was too much
to handle this early in the morning.
 
 
The slight chill of the morning was beginning to sink into his bones, making
the thought of Yoongi's company much more appealing. Jimin only rubbed his arms
in an attempt to warm them. Why did his mind almost automatically turn to
Yoongi? Why, at the prospect of loneliness, the first thing on his mind was the
remembrance of the King's arms surrounding him? He messily splashed his face
with water from a basin before exiting the washroom.
 
 
Yoongi was still sound asleep. Jimin didn't move for several moments, and just
looked at him. Soft, pale skin and hair, such a thin and small body. He looked
too young and fragile to care for Jimin and their friends the way he did, not
to mention running a flourishing nation, but he did it nonetheless.
 
 
A few centimeters still separated Jimin's height from Yoongi's, but that was
about it. Jimin knew that the years of hardship he had endured had made him
tough, his body was wider and firmer than his hyung's. But there was always
that loving, responsible air around the King that allowed Jimin to let down his
walls. An atmosphere where Jimin could let go, could let himself collapse
without actually breaking.
 
 
Ironically, Jimin's only apprehension was caused by his and Yoongi's past
closeness. It felt like their friendship could raise mountains, but those same
heights made crossing the divide between them even more difficult. Of course,
there was another factor...
 
 
Jimin bit his lip, as he was affronted with bittersweet memories of tart fruit
on his tongue, the smell of salty sea air, and a secret hush of a starlit kiss.
It was a simpler time, before kings and sex and anger and conflict; when it was
just innocence, two boys, happy in each other's love and company.
 
 
Aided by the flow of remembrance, the impulse finally won, and Jimin slipped
back into the covers, curling into Yoongi's body.
 
 
~-~
 
 
The rest of the day had been uneventful. Yoongi had disappeared into his study
once again, and Jimin busied himself in the gardens once again. He liked them,
finding some lovely peace in the quiet sunny pathways between the flowers.
 
 
However, the heat and high pollen of residual summer caused a bit of a problem
with Jimin's still healing windpipe, so he retired in his bedroom for the
remainder of the afternoon.
 
 
Yoongi had brought his dinner up to him, so they ate together on the table in
Jimin's bedroom, by the balcony overlooking the setting sun. Jimin's chair was
situated at a somewhat awkward angle at the circular table, so the sunlight
wouldn't get into his eyes as he ate. And while the closeness to Yoongi was a
bit disconcerting, at least he didn't have to reach for the shared plate of cut
seasonal fruit.
 
 
"Why do you always dine with me?" Jimin wondered aloud. "Don't you have to eat
in the banquet hall, with all the nobles and formal whatnot?"
 
 
Yoongi chuckled. "The only times I eat in the banquet hall are holidays and
parties. I have too much work to take up so much time with decorum."
 
 
Jimin pursed his lips. "But you eat with me?"
 
 
"Your company is," the elder patted his lips with a napkin, "refreshing, to say
the least. I've missed having a friend whose presence didn't have some aspect
of business."
 
 
While Yoongi's words were a bit detatched and vague, there was no denying the
little leap in Jimin's heart.
 
 
"I should thank you for that."
 
 
Yoongi looked up at him. "For what?"
 
 
"For having me." Jimin's hands rested in his lap to hide their shakiness. "For
letting me be here."
 
 
"Of course," Yoongi smiled. "You're practically family; you deserve all the
love and care I could give."
 
 
The beats that passed were choking. Jimin's eyes flitted from Yoongi's warm,
welcoming eyes to his lips. All the kindness and adoration that had just now
become reminiscent, coalesced into a single movement--
 
 
And their lips collided.
 
 
Jimin's eyes were shut, so he didn't have to see the startled expression on
Yoongi's features, but he inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when he felt
larger hands cup his cheeks. Yoongi pressed closer, but it was Jimin who added
careful swipes of his tongue, deepening the kiss. He had missed this, comfort,
love, sensuality all in one moment. He leaned closer to the King, letting their
mouths move in a slow dance that held the weight of heavier emotions, but the
lighthearted sweetness of childlike puppy love. Honestly, Jimin didn't quite
know words precise enough to describe how it felt.
 
 
Jimin almost didn't notice his hands starting to wander, sliding down the front
of Yoongi's chest, playing with the buttons.
 
 
At this, Yoongi pulled away. His lips were deep pink and slick, but his jaw was
slack and his eyes unreadable. He stood, smoothing the front of his shirt. "I-
I should... I should go." He must have seen the hurt on Jimin's face, because
he added, "It's too soon, Jimin. I don't want to.. take advantage of you."
 
 
And with a curt nod, he was gone, leaving Jimin with hurt feelings, a damaged
ego, and overal great confusion.
Chapter End Notes
     Hiiiiii short chapter once again.. Sorry. I am quite exhausted, with
     finals coming up and a whole crapton of events going on so, I
     sincerely apologize. i will, however, try to keep up with my schedule
     of a chapter every other day!! Love you all<33
***** King of Diamonds *****
Chapter Summary
     The King of Diamonds means power through money or fortune. Pulled
     with several spades, the reader can expect to face some financial
     trials. Alternately, this card may mean that decisions relating to
     the reader's success are coming, and the reader will need to choose
     their correct path of action.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Seokjin had grown used to waking up alone.
 
 
Sheets bundled up around him but the other half of the bed grown cold, no other
body to block out the sunlight that gets in his eyes.
 
 
He knew his husband was far too stressed; the new territory of his home country
was more of a curse than a blessing. He knew that if he got out of bed and into
the council room, he'd find a young King surrounded by overflowing piles of
reports and files, letters from sentries.
 
 
So he decided not to rise, deciding to curl up into the sheets, away from the
sun.
 
 
On the other hand, Namjoon desperately tried to convince himself that the
slowness of his thought processes was not sleepiness. He deeply regretted
taking over Anune. What he could tell, from the sentries' reports, the Anunians
were enraged by Namjoon's close partnership with Degue, that their royal family
betrayed them, that the married Seokjin was nothing but a lapdog in the bed of
a worthless foreign King. Namjoon had yet to mention the last one to his
husband, and he was sure he would never get around to it.
 
 
The Anunians were undoubtedly a threat at this point, this anger against
himself and his kingdom had the capacity to escalate quickly, and Namjoon was
frustrated to admit he didn't have a solution. He hated that he couldn't
control them, he hated that he was neglecting Seokjin, he hated that he didn't
know what to do.
 
 
He cradled his head in his hands, propped up by his elbows over his desk. The
letters and papers blurred in a mess of reports, angry revolts, refusals to pay
taxes. Returning Anune to Seokjin's parents seemed like a really good idea
right about now.
 
 
~-~
 
 
Taehyung looked up, startled, at the clutter of sound in the doorway of his
infirmary. His eyes widened at the sight of blood, a limping form, and a pained
expression. He leapt to his feet, quickly supporting the injured man and
carrying him to the cot.
 
 
"Jesus, Lord Hoseok, what the hell happened to you?"
 
 
Hoseok groaned in pain, laying back on the cot. "My own sword, that's what," he
answered in somewhat disbelief.
 
 
Taehyung suppressed a smirk as he peeled away the blood-soaked fabric on
Hoseok's calf to assess the damage. "Aish, seems like all our noble fighters
are getting clumsier and clumsier these days, eh?"
 
 
"Unfortunately."
 
 
The physician tutted playfully as he walked over to his shelves, selecting a
bottle of this, a bag of that. After a few minutes, he returned to the cot with
a bowl of water and a waiting poultice in his mortar. He elevated the leg on a
few pillows, then washed away the blood with the water. He set the bowl aside
and retrieved the poultice and clean bandages, beginning to wrap the wound.
 
 
He watched the other's face as he applied the soft paste around the wound.
"Does it sting?"
 
 
"No," Hoseok shook his head.
 
 
Taehyung gave him a pointed look. "You alpha male types, always hiding your
pain. I know it stings, but if it doesn't, then you can kiss your leg goodbye."
 
 
"Alright, yeah it stings." The elder winced. "What'd you say about kissing my
leg goodbye?"
 
 
The younger chuckled as he wrapped the cotton around the poultice. "Last time
it didn't sting, I had accidentally mixed up the wrong herbs, and the poor
fellow's entire arm went numb. We had to wash it off immediately otherwise I
would have to have done my first amputation."
 
 
"My god, who was it?" Hoseok was shocked, and a bit more wary of the eccentric
redhead tending his leg.
 
 
"The swordsmaster's own apprentice."
 
 
Hoseok bit back a snort. "Really?"
 
 
"Yeah, I know right." Taehyung laughed. "It's good, I ended up dating him
anyway."
 
 
The adviser's sudden stiffness did not go unnoticed by Taehyung. Hoseok cleared
his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Is that so?"
 
 
"Yeah, he's a sweetheart." Taehyung allowed himself to continue the
conversation, but treaded carefully. After a beat, he thought Fuck it and
decided to just ask it: "You're not homophobic, are you, sir?"
 
 
The elder's face turned red. "Ah, no, no..."
 
 
Taehyung only hummed in mild acknowledgement as he finished wrapping up his
leg.
 
 
"Yes, I.. Ah.. I fully support homosexual people.." Hoseok rambled, "But the
same could not be said for my parents."
 
 
"Oh, I see." Taehyung replied. "I just asked because, you know, our own King is
quite vague about his interests, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's bedded a
few men here and there, and since you work so closely with him--"
 
 
"Yes, I see how that could be worrying."
 
 
Taehyung looked over his face again, studying his reaction. "You know, I was
thinking you were closeted yourself."
 
 
Hoseok sputtered. "W-What makes you say that?"
 
 
The physician shrugged. "Sixth sense?" He allowed himself to enjoy Hoseok's
dumbfounded expression for a few moments before laughing. "No, no, sir, it was
my friend, Jimin. You know him I'm sure, he's Yoongi's friend."
 
 
Hoseok only nodded.
 
 
"I'm treating him for some injuries, and he began coming later and later, and
always from the far wing of the palace," Taehyung continued, "I thought he was
bedding someone, but the only person of importance or of relative
attractiveness in the far wing is you. So you can see how it piqued my
interest."
 
 
"Ah." Hoseok swallowed.
 
 
Taehyung grinned, patting Hoseok's leg good-naturedly before standing, bringing
his supplies back to their shelves, and cleansing his hands. "So are you?"
 
 
"I'm.. Ah.. Not quite sure."
 
 
"That's alright." Taehyung nodded. "Anyway, if you were bedding Jimin, that
would make you the most likely candidate for the cause of his ailment, and you
are most certainly not."
 
 
Hoseok shifted uncomfortably, having full knowledge of the reason for Jimin's
injury.
 
 
Taehyung returned to him with his signature boxy smile. "You're all set," he
chirped, helping Hoseok to his feet. "Just try to rest a bit, and I'll change
your dressings every few hours or so."
 
 
Hoseok nodded, if not somewhat absentmindedly. "Thank you, Taehyung-ssi." He
left without another word.
 
 
~-~
 
 
"Jimin-ah, wake up."
 
 
Jimin groaned at the noise, but allowed his eyes to flutter open.
 
 
"Good morning, Yoongi-hyung. I.. Oh.." His voice trailed off as his vision
focused on the sight before him. Yoongi was sat on his bed, bearing a big smile
and small cake held out to Jimin.
 
 
"You remembered!" Jimin exclaimed, still a bit sleepy but happy nonetheless.
 
 
Yoongi laughed, setting the cake to the side before pulling Jimin into a hug.
"Of course I remembered." He pressed a light kiss to the side of his head.
"Happy Birthday, Jiminnie."
Chapter End Notes
     HELLO! I'm back! My flow of motivation has finally kicked back in and
     I have a question for you!
     I have two upcoming concepts for small breather fics. Which one would
     you like to see first?
     -psychological-horror style mental facility au
     Or
     -high school au inspired by Boy In Luv
***** Ace of Spades *****
Chapter Summary
     The Ace of Spades is paralleled by the Death card in the tarot deck.
     And like its counterpart, it doesn’t necessarily mean physical death,
     but instead a sudden transformation or an ending. This card can also
     indicate deep isolation, and in some cases might even mean a period
     of contemplation.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"Please tell me you didn't amputate the leg of the King's Chief Adviser."
 
 
Taehyung playfully slapped his boyfriend's arm. "Of course I didn't! It's been
years since the time I messed up your arm; I've gotten better!"
 
 
"Uh huh." Jeongguk leaned over him smirking, before pressing a light kiss to
the top of Taehyung's nose. "I've still got that blasted scar, though."
 
 
Taehyung waved it away. "You'll live." He cupped the younger's face in his
hands, bringing him back in for another kiss. He laid further back on the bed,
pulling Jeongguk down with him.
 
 
"And you told him you thought he was gay and the one hurting Jimin?" Jeongguk
asked, still kissing him, though incredulous at the thought of his boyfriend's
filter, or lack thereof.
 
 
"Well, think about it!" Taehyung kissed him one last time before switching into
his "fast-talk" mode. "Jiminnie was always late to our appointments, and when I
went to look for him, he'd be running in from the opposite wing. Of course I'd
think--"
 
 
"There's plenty of men in the far wing. Why on earth would you suspect that
poor Lord?" Jeongguk settled for laying beside his boyfriend on their bed,
nuzzling his face into the other's neck.
 
 
Taehyung shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose I'd always thought he was gay
anyway."
 
 
"Tae!"
 
 
"What? He gives off that vibe!"
 
 
"Be glad he didn't have your leg chopped off for saying that."
 
 
"Yoongi would never let that happen. He loves me too much."
 
 
Jeongguk tickled at his sides. "Oh really? I didn't know I was being replaced."
 
 
"Well, you know." Taehyung giggled, before exaggeratedly clapping a hand over
his heart. "Why would I bed a lowly apprentice, when I could be lying in the
bed of a King?"
 
 
"Always the dramatic." Jeongguk rolled his eyes. "And I'm not going to be an
apprentice for much longer. My Master is thinking of retiring early."
 
 
"Really? Let's hope you don't screw it up."
 
 
"Oh stop it!" Jeongguk effectively shut him up with a kiss.
 
 
Taehyung smiled contentedly after they pulled apart, but he frowned again.
 
 
Jeongguk ran a hand through Taehyung's fiery hair. "What are you thinking
about?"
 
 
"Who do you think might be the one hurting Jimin?"
 
 
"Honestly?"
 
 
"I mean, I did suspect King Yoongi, but he's too much of a sweetheart to do
that. He's too skinny to pin Jimin down anyway."
 
 
"Tae!"
 
 
"Just saying!" Taehyung rolled his eyes. "You know, there is some possibility
that it really was Lord Hoseok."
 
 
"You can't be serious, Tae."
 
 
"I am! Hmm... I wonder if Yoongi knows?"
 
 
Jeongguk's eyes widened as Taehyubg began scooting off the bed. "No, Tae, you
can solve a mystery later! Stay, please?"
 
 
Taehyung's heart melted at his boyfriend's puppy eyes, pressing a kiss to his
pout. "Sorry, Gukkie. I'll be back!" He got off the bed, skipping over to the
door. "Mysteries were meant to be solved!" He crowed.
 
 
It didn't take him long to find Yoongi, who was in his study, as always.
 
 
"King Yoongi," he called.
 
 
Yoongi saw him, slightly surprised at his messy hair and wrinkled clothes, but
greeted him nonetheless. "Oh, hello, Taehyung."
 
 
"Hi, so," he fidgeted with his feet as he spoke, "regarding Jimin.. You and I
both know that there has to be someone doing that to him.. I was wondering if
you had any idea who it is?"
 
 
"Well, this is all very sudden. Why do you ask?"
 
 
Taehyung crossed his arms. "I am his physician, Your Majesty."
 
 
"Ah, yes, yes." Yoongi nodded, still a bit withdrawn. "I do suppose that I have
some.. ah.. suspicions, but I don't think it right to voice them until we have
more concrete evidence."
 
 
The redhead pursed his lips. "Have you considered your adviser?"
 
 
Yoongi lifted a brow. "Hoseok?"
 
 
Taehyung nodded. "Yes. See, Jimin used to always be late for our therapy
sessions, and he always seemed to come from where Lord Hoseok's bedchambers
are."
 
 
The King mulled it over for a bit. "That's quite... an assumption to make,
Taehyung." He still spoke slowly and measuredly, as if he were filtering every
word.
 
 
"I apologize Yoongi-hyung, but I hope you realize my concern--"
 
 
"I do, Taehyung, and you're quite alright." Yoongi waved him away. "I will, er,
look in to your suggestions. Now, if you'll excuse me." He gathered up a few
papers from his desk before walking out.
 
 
Taehyung slumped, dumbfounded. "Odd."
 
 
~-~
 
 
Namjoon was still worrying over the Anune debacle when Seokjin called him for
tea.
 
 
"You need a break," the blond had said, lightly massaging Namjoon's shoulder
with one hand as he guided him to the chair.
 
 
"I know, I know," Namjoon assented, sinking into his chair. "It's the new
territory."
 
 
"Anune, I know," Seokjin said, pouring them both cups of tea.
 
 
The King took the teacup, taking a sip before continuing. "Why are they so
upset with your parents' decision?"
 
 
Seokjin's cup was almost at his lips, but he sighed and set it back down. "It's
your kingdom's close relationship to Degue. We all know Yoongi's father wasn't
the kindest man, but he got along even worse with my father."
 
 
"Your father's a good man, though."
 
 
"Of course he is. The old King's rants didn't bother him. But they sure as hell
bothered the people." Seokjin shook his head. "They're upset that they're under
the rule of someone so close to the descendant of such a horrid man."
 
 
Namjoon took a closer look at his husband's face. "And you aren't?"
 
 
A soft smile curled Seokjin's lips. "I've met Yoongi. I know that he's a good
man."
 
 
"That's true," Namjoon conceded. "But that can't be it. If they're so angry,
they wouldn't be rebelling against only me. If they're so angry, they'd have
attacked Degue already."
 
 
Seokjin watched the gears turn in his head. "What are you thinking?"
 
 
"There has to be some other factor here." Namjoon's near-full cup of tea sat
forgotten on the table as he pondered the thought. "Is there anything else I
might have done to anger them?"
 
 
"Not that I can think of."
 
 
A frown crossed Namjoon's face. "Then what...?"
 
 
Seokjin refilled his own teacup. "Perhaps an instigator?"
 
 
"An instigator?"
 
 
He nodded. "There is a rivalry between Anune and Degue, there's not doubting
that, but it has never affected the relationship with Sule. The only other
possibility is another party that is blowing the feud out of proportion."
 
 
The silvery-haired King mulled it over. "That's possible. Perhaps th--"
 
 
Seokjin sighed heavily and cut him off. "Alright, alright, Namjoon, you have a
lead, but you can figure this out soon enough. Right now, just relax, take a
rest, please?" There was a pleading look in his eyes.
 
 
Namjoon frowned again, eyes trained on his cooling tea. "It requires my
attention--"
 
 
"You work yourself too hard, love." Seokjin's soothing voice was convincing,
but not enough. "Even you need a break sometimes."
 
 
"This is too important to wait!" Namjoon huffed as he'd grown impatient. He
stood from his chair, running an agitated hand through his hair before starting
for the door. "Seokjin, I need to fix this."
 
 
"Namjoon, please--"
 
 
"No, Seokjin!"
 
 
Hurt visibly showed on Seokjin's features at Namjoon's harsh tone.
 
 
Namjoon's gaze softened, but he was unrelenting. "There is a disruption of the
peace in my kingdom. I need to fix it."
 
 
Then he was gone, leaving Seokjin alone with a bruised heart and two cold cups
of tea.
Chapter End Notes
     So input for the breather fics was equal, so I suppose I'll just see
     which one gets finished first. Also, my schedule has completely gone
     to shit, so I'll just be posting every few days or so as the chapters
     are finished. tysm!!!
***** Two of Spades *****
Chapter Summary
     This card represents a duel or separation. The Two of Spades means
     that someone is itching for a fight, and there’s a good chance
     they’ll get one. This does not necessarily have to be romantic, but
     it’s likely there will be a falling out with a person in their life,
     soon.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Seokjin was at his wits' end.
 
Waking up to a cold bed, empty conversations, a silent dinner table, sleepless
nights spent alone: it was too much. Namjoon and his mind were always somewhere
else. On the problems in Anune, how they needed to be fixed. Seokjin knew that
it was an important issue, but this was getting out of hand.
 
This was the last straw.
 
~-~
 
The slight chill of autumn had given way to the harsh cold of winter. A hush of
snow blanketed the Sule capital, the palace covered in a coat of white. The sky
was grey, shielding away the sun, allowing the crisp frigidity to permeate the
city.
 
The change in weather made barely any difference to Seokjin; his home life in
the castle being just as cold and unfeeling. But that day, he'd made the
mistake of allowing himself a dash of hope. He'd awoken that morning as he
always did: alone. Still, he went about his day, holding on to a shred of hope.
But soon, night fell, and his spirits with it.
 
Seokjin sat on his bed, reading a book as he waited. Darkness was all that
could be seen outside, as the sleepy city gone to bed. All but their reigning
King and Queen.
 
Namjoon came in hours later, visibly surprised at the sight of his husband
awake. "You should be asleep," he admonished.
 
"So should you," Seokjin quipped, shutting his book.
 
The younger sighed, "What do you want, Seokjin?"
 
Seokjin inhaled sharply, fuming. "Haven't you forgotten something?"
 
"Forgotten what?"
 
Angry tears brimmed in Seokjin's eyes. "It's my birthday today, dammit!"
 
Realization and guilt flicked over Namjoon's features, but his pride pushed
them to the side. "Well, I apologize, but you have to understand that I'm quite
busy." He disappeared into their walk-in closet.
 
Incredulous rage consumed Seokjin. "All you do is work nowadays! I was hoping
that for one godforsaken day you'd put it aside and give me some attention for
once!" He was standing by the bedside, arms crossed, a wall of anger and
emotion.
 
There was no reply, only the soft rustle of cloth.
 
"I've never forgotten a birthday, anniversary, or even any of those odd
holidays you celebrate here! I've been nothing but a good spouse, and all I
would ask is one day for me, but all you do is worry about my homeland!"
 
"What do you expect me to do?!" Namjoon finally emerged, wearing his pajamas
and an anguished expression akin to that of Seokjin's. "Just forsake my
duties?"
 
"I want you to express some emotion for once!" Seokjin exclaimed. "You're not a
fucking political wizard, you can't just spend your days working nonstop."
 
Namjoon faltered, cracks showing in his resolve, but his pride was too strong.
"I'm sorry, but there's nothing more I can do. Come to bed."
 
Seokjin shook his head in disbelief. He wiped the hot tears from his eyes.
"I've had enough." He left their bedchambers, choosing to cry himself to sleep
in the guestroom down the hall.
 
~-~
 
Seokjin awoke sometime before daybreak. Quietly, he slipped back into his
bedroom, past Namjoon snoring away on the canopied bed. He crept into the
closet, packing a bag with some clothes before dressing himself in thick
leggings, a warm long sleeved undershirt, and a soft brown tunic. He laced up
his boots and drew a cloak around his shoulders.
 
His movements were precarious and precise, making sure the heel of his shoes
didn't click against the tile too loudly as he exited the room. The hood of his
cloak he draped over his head, keeping his face bowed as he made his way to the
stables on the western side of the castle.
 
The cold air bit at his skin, causing red flowers to bloom in pale cheeks.
Seokjin's breath clouded before him, misting in the December chill. He saddled
his personal colt, stroking the coarse, dark blond hair. It was a prize horse,
gifted him by Namjoon. He remembered his husband's remarks of how the golden
mane of the horse reminded him of Seokjin's own blond head. The memory stung
his heart, and he pushed it to the side.
 
He tied his bag to the side of the saddle before mounting the colt, nudging its
side with his boot to urge it forward. The horse's hooves clopped rhythmically
against the stone streets. By the time the road turned to the frozen dirt path
at the edge of the city, the sun had crested over the horizon.
 
~-~
 
It was midafternoon when the red-tipped towers of the Degue capital appeared
over the horizon. The sharp points were too steep for the snow to cover them,
so the white powder lay in fluffy rims around the bottoms. The sun was shining
brightly, making the surrounding snow blindingly white. Seokjin pulled the hood
over his forehead in a way that shielded his eyes from the brightness. Faithful
sentries guarded the gates, and stood readily at attention as Seokjin
approached.
 
His lips were dry and bitten by the cold, and his stomach growled, having only
taken the smallest bites of food at the passing towns, the slightest sips of
water, daring not to use too much money. He didn't want the people to know that
their Queen was seemingly fleeing the kingdom.
 
As Seokjin neared the gates, one of the sentries bellowed, "State your name and
business in the regency of Degue!"
 
Seokjin slowed the colt to a trot, then to a stop. He lowered his hood. "Kim
Seokjin, Queen of Sule. I'm here to speak with His Majesty King Yoongi."
 
The guards bowed in recognition, one fist against their heart and falling to
one knee in a traditional Deguian salute. "You may pass, Your Majesty."
 
~-~
 
"Seokjin-hyung!"
 
Seokjin looked away from the stable girl taking away his colt, just barely
spotting a head of dark hair and sparkling eyes before he was pulled into a
hug. "Hello, Jimin," he laughed good-naturedly, patting Jimin on the back.
 
Jimin pulled away, smile-eyes sparkling with joy. "Why didn't you announce your
coming sooner? Yoongi-hyung could have prepared something... And where's Nam--"
 
"Whoa, there, Jiminnie," Seokjin stopped him. "Let me settle in just a bit
before you begin interrogating me, yes?" He hoped his direct avoidance of
Jimin's last inquiry wasn't too obvious.
 
Jimin blushed. "Oh, yes, I'm sorry." He slid his arm into Seokjin's ushering
him to the wing of bedchambers.
 
He'd left Seokjin in the guestroom beside his own before leaving to inform
Yoongi of the Queen's arrival. Seokjin was relaxing on the balcony when the
King knocked on his door.
 
"Seokjin-hyung," Yoongi greeted warmly. "So nice to see you."
 
"Likewise," Seokjin replied with a respectful dip of the head. "Come take a
seat."
 
Yoongi sat in the other chair furnishing the small balcony. "What is the
purpose for your sudden arrival? And without Namjoon, no less."
 
Seokjin sighed. "There's been some... Unrest in Sule and Anune."
 
The younger leaned forward. "Yes?"
 
"The Anunians are unhappy with Namjoon and are causing disturbances. I believe
it's a result of his close alignment with you, no offense--"
 
"None taken."
 
"But I also believe there's an instigator in Anune riling up the unhappy
citizens."
 
"That's unfortunate," Yoongi sympathized. "But why come to me?"
 
Seokjin furrowed his brow, rubbing at a temple. "It's been irritating me."
 
"The instigator?"
 
"No, not even the problem itself." The blond frowned. "It's Namjoon."
 
Yoongi raised his brow. "Namjoon?"
 
"He's being a prick, to put it bluntly." Seokjin blurted. "He's been working so
hard, which is understandable, but he's been almost consciously ignoring me."
He took in the other's slightly incredulous look. "He forgot my birthday, for
heaven's sake."
 
"Ah." Yoongi's lips were pressed together in a flat line, a bit uncomfortable
with how to deal with the situation. "Is there anything you'd like me to do?"
 
"What could you do?" Seokjin exhaled tiredly.
 
Yoongi shrugged, but an idea lit up his brain. "I could send one of my advisers
to Sule to aid Namjoon."
 
"Really?" Seokjin pondered the idea. "That could work."
 
"I'll have my adviser informed right away."
 
"Thank you, Yoongi."
 
"My pleasure."
 
Seokjin had fallen asleep shortly after, exhausted from the day's trip. He'd
awoken a few hours later, when a servant girl came to usher him to dinner. He
dressed in more appropriate garments and followed.
 
~-~
 
"Hey there, stranger."
 
Hoseok nearly jumped out of his chair. "Oh, Taehyung! You, ah, you startled me
there."
 
Square grin dazzling, Taehyung plopped into the seat beside him. "Fancy seeing
you here."
 
"Well I am the Chief Adviser, you know."
 
"Mm." The young physician nodded thanks to the servant boy filling his cup,
then lifted it to his lips.
 
Hoseok swallowed. "Where... Uh... Where's your boyfriend?"
 
"Working," Taehyung sighed. "His master retired, so he's looking for some aides
to help him around the smithy before he finds a permanent apprentice."
 
"Oh."
 
"Yup."
 
Hoseok picked up a piece of meat and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly and
swallowing. He took a sip from his glass but his throat still felt dry.
 
"Lord Hoseok?"
 
"Yes?"
 
Taehyung was going to town on his plate, stuffing his mouth and eating with
abandon. In between bites he murmured, "I know that our dear King and little
Jiminnie over there aren't listening, they're too occupied with the precious
Queen. So I have a question for you," he daintily dabbed at his lips with a
napkin, "did you do something to Jimin?"
 
"D-Do something?"
 
Taehyung scoffed, giving him a blank, serious glare. "Don't play stupid. You
know what I'm talking about."
 
Hoseok's plate of food might as well have been dust, as it sat nearly untouched
on the table.
 
"I'm waiting," Taehyung hummed.
 
"We were... in a sexual relationship," Hoseok forced.
 
"I know that."
 
"What?"
 
Taehyung simpered. "I knew as soon as you didn't have me hanged for suspecting
you."
 
"Oh."
 
"Did you do anything else?"
 
Words faltered at the tip of the adviser's tongue.
 
"Hoseok." When Hoseok looked up, Taehyung had a bit of sauce on his chin, and
it would have been hilarious if not for the terrifying look in his eyes. "I'm
serious. Did you choke and severely injure Jimin?"
 
Hoseok felt as if his lungs couldn't breathe air to pass his vocal cords, his
throat was closed up and his mouth was dry, but a small puff of air and sound
left his mouth, just barely distinguishable as an ashamed "yes."
Chapter End Notes
     firstly, I'd like to apologize again for the terrible schedule that I
     have not adhered to at all. This story was meant to be a little
     summer project, but summer is coming to an end and I am only halfway
     done. Also, my scatterbrained writers mind cannot only work on one
     story at a time. I currently have about five "back-burner" stories
     that I work on as "breathers" at the same time as I write this story.
     Thus, especially as the school year is about to begin soon, the
     chapters will most definitely be more spaced apart. Please stay with
     me! <333
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