Archive of Our Own

Contrary to popular belief, Crown Prince Kim Jiwook was not as polite and dainty as he was to the public.

Inside the castle's ballroom-- where the guests block the hallways and the utensils clatter about-- Jiwook's stance is proper. Chin-up, never a slouch. His hands are on his sides, ready to catch a handshake, or a kiss- chaste, on top of someone's knuckle. His words are carefully combined, voice soft and humble. Laughing softly at the lamest jokes, pretending he knows jack shit about whatever jokes the people ramble.

Most times, in the corner of his eyes, he sees his father- the king, eyeing him with much scrutiny. As if every wrong move, be it the slightest slip or an accidental nudge, would have him disciplined. Twenty five sheltered years yet nothing had changed. Jiwook only has one task, to walk towards his steps. To reign over the kingdom, to promote conquest and power, to achieve the heights his father couldn't.

Being groomed to be the next king was never in his cards, but alas, being the sole and eldest son of the family, he has no other choice. 

Hidden beneath his demeanor, beyond the mask of a prince, Kim Jiwook had many secrets about. Ones where even his younger sister- Kyujin- had not, and possibly will never learn. Few rumors have came and went, whispers running fast around the corridors. Words that Jiwook cannot chase, ones that land hopelessly in his father's ears-- ringing, never stopping. Jiwook knows that was the king's final straw, and that was the last time he ever felt the lightest air of freedom.

Is it true that Prince Jiwook brings men in his bed?

Word around here says that the king's son was sleeping around like a slut.

I thought he was arranged to marry the Morrow's eldest daughter, how dare he bring shame to his future wife like that?

His stubbornness cannot be attributed to no one. Built by years of material gifts and the absence of proper support. For half his life, Jiwook had lived with different maids, handpicked by the king. They never last- because one wrong move and they'd be sent off, mostly crying. He remembers, briefly, when he still stuttered his sentences, and when he'd used to look up to the king, a certain maid that used to bring her daughter in the servant's quarters. She was about his age, maybe a year older, and they'd play around in the gardens, laying on the grass, picking flowers as a present to the other. He recalls deer-like eyes, wide by the edges, ones that glass as easily as his does. And he wonders if she was still around, still quiet, still willing to live an immature dream.

The particular servant gets dismissed quick, despite Jiwook's trashing. Just a day after Jiwook and the daughter shared heartfelt giggles in the prince's room, all while she littered the boy's face with make-up, as well as her various dresses splayed on the bed. His father had told him that it wasn't his fault, but even at 7 years old, Jiwook knew damn well.

Because for the king, what matters is his reputation. But for Jiwook, what matters is his world.

He is 19 when his father brings him a new set of knights- for security, as his father justified. There was some sort of conflict in the nearby lands, and so the kingdom had wasted no time in doubling their troops. Ready to sacrifice for their name. Jiwook knows his father had never ran away from bloodshed, and it places a foul taste in his mouth.

So at 19, he stays in- as if it ever changed anything. Barely leaving the premises, entertaining himself with whatever the manor could give. Spending hours near the windows, exchanging gossip with the birds that rest nearby. Then, between the lackluster days and the terrible family dinners, Jiwook stumbles upon a particular knight. And at 20, Jinsol starts becoming his world.

With Jinsol, Jiwook is as safe as he is alone. Away from the ostracizing remarks. Away from the plastic smiles and buttery lies.

With Jinsol, Jiwook feels bare, feels awake, feels free. His tiring persona of royalty melts within the knight's vicinity. With Jinsol, he is himself- not a prince, not a future king. He doesn't force his laughter, Jinsol's humor is natural, never practiced. Jinsol's words are never mechanic, and mostly they are rushed, stumbling on itself. Oftentimes, Jiwook doesn't understand, but the knight's animated actions are enough to spell it out for him. And he feels his heart click within.

And with Jinsol, especially with Jinsol, Kim Jiwook is stubborn.

The prince had dragged them into an empty room, unused for months by the looks of it. Cobwebs decorating the ceiling, a single flickering light bulb illuminating the room, its dim rays that highlight floating specks of dust. Jiwook's hands are tight on Jinsol's waist, pushing him on the empty loveseat- which Jinsol really hopes won't break, because the sound it echoes is surely worse than a creak.

Jiwook's ass finds the knight's lap, and he pulls himself close. Hands aiming higher on Jinsol's chest, while slowly grinding on Jinsol's thighs- clothes on and all.

"S-- sire, I don't think we should be here." Jinsol says, voice light. Jiwook's lips finds his jaw, planting kisses on the skin. His hands fidget desperately on the straps that hold Jinsol's uniform together, and the knight feels his head grow light.

"Shit, 'Sol, we're alone," Jiwook replies, mouth grazing on Jinsol's owns, making sure Jinsol feels his breath, "I don't care- I don't know when I can have you again."

"Sire-"

"I told you already- you don't have to call me that."

Somewhere between the first time they had sex- during the week his father traveled away with Kyujin to inspect- something, whatever, he didn't really care- Jinsol had accidentally called Jiwook by his first name. When the prince was down on his knees, creating miracles with his mouth. The pleasure had been too much for Jinsol, and in his lightheaded phase, he had let the word slip.

"Ah- Jiwook- we can't."

Jiwook's hips start to roll, and Jinsol can feel him from his pants. He feels himself growing hard, already memorizing the shape of the prince's bottom. Puckering, wanting more.

"Who says we can't?" Jiwook teases, clenching on Jinsol's clothed cock. The two moan simultaneously, and Jinsol places his hand on Jiwook's side, forcing him to stop.

"Your father- the king-"

"Fuck, 'Sol, do- do you hear yourself?" Jiwook's fingers meet Jinsol's face, tracing his features. His fingertips slither on the side of Jinsol's eyes, his nose, and down to his lips, "Who cares about that stupid man?"

Truthfully, Jinsol knows he's right. Nearly everyone else had preferred Jiwook over the old man, which makes it worse. Because Jiwook's heart was not in it, yet he's the reign's golden boy. Jinsol was confused then, as in his eyes, too, Jiwook had looked like the perfect prince. However, time had shifted his opinions, and Jinsol wants nothing more but to help Jiwook free from royalty's shackles.

Jiwook moves, again, the chains on his shoulders emit a shaking noise. Although soft, it might still be loud enough to be heard from the outside.

"S- Jiwook, we need to be quiet."

"I know," Jiwook opens Jinsol's lips with his touch, "-I know."

The prince clasps his mouth on his, messily clashing with his tongue. Jiwook grinds down hastily, slotting himself perfectly on Jinsol's crying cock, so wet and hard that it begins to hurt. Jinsol starts being careless- teeth hitting teeth, one hand gripping Jiwook's waist, the other riding up his suit. Jiwook's skin feels like it was burning- and perhaps it was, burning with desire and everything Jinsol.

"'Sol, J- Jinsol, I need you," Jiwook leaves his lips, whimpering on Jinsol's cheek, "Please. In me, 'Sol, please."

Jinsol, the most loyal knight of Prince Kim Jiwook. His bodyguard. His closest ally. Despite Jinsol's prior- and weak- argument, he doesn't have to be told twice.

"Yes- yes sire."

Jiwook lets the mistake slip, too filled with lust to argue back. Jinsol pushes him lightly, distance enough to give himself space. The knight slips his pants off halfway- it was too much work to remove it in its entirety. In front of him, Jiwook strips himself off his blazer, white undershirt sticking on his skin. Then, he tugs his pants off together with his underwear, Jinsol's lap meeting his skin.

Crown Prince Jiwook, naked right in front of him-  a knight, Jinsol's own knight. Fuck. The king would lose his goddamn mind. The entire country would probably vote to get them killed. It's a crime Jinsol knows he isn't the only suspect of. Knowing too well the prying eyes that shed similar sin.

"Jiwook, are- are you sure about this?" Jinsol asks, despite the answer blaring right in front of him. Through Jiwook's leaking cock, and his pulsing owns.

Jiwook groans, annoyed,  “God, ‘Sol. Put it in me or I’m telling father you sucked me off weeks after we met."

It's an empty threat, Jinsol knows that. Jiwook loved hurling words of danger, a veil that hides his thirst for intimacy. Some fucked up defense mechanism- or something- Jinsol will contemplate on that later. Jiwook's begging to be fucked and Jinsol's thinking about psychoanalysis, for some idiotic reason.

It's easy for him to carry Jiwook on his cock- the prince's height was a definite aid. Their body gap was pretty ridiculous- Jinsol's toned body a contrast to Jiwook's lightness. The prince was small in his arms, and there is no difference even on his lap.

Slowly, Jiwook sinks down on him.

The feeling is still new- despite this being far from their first. Jinsol's cock flutters at the tight, wet feeling of Jiwook's hole. Swallowing his length up in one go. The heat already felt overwhelming- but Jinsol knows they'd barely began.

"Shit- wait. Don't- don't move." Jiwook groans, face filled with pleasure and pain. Jinsol tries to soothe him by rubbing on his waist, careful not to touch Jiwook's sensitive cock.

Although he gives Jiwook time to adjust, Jinsol suddenly hears chattering from outside. His reaction is immediate- his hold on Jiwook's waist pulls, and the movement makes Jiwook bounce, thrusting himself on Jinsol's cock.

"Ah- 'Sol, I- I said-" His moan gets muffled by Jinsol's hand, waiting until the people have left. Jinsol keeps them still enough that he's sure he could hear a pin drop. He tries to focus on the fading laughter, taking everything in him to not move inside Jiwook's gaping hole.

Once he's sure the people have left, Jinsol removes his (now damp) hand from Jiwook's mouth.

"Sorry."

Jiwook rolls his eyes, "Are you that eager to fuck your prince?"

"Jiwook, there were people outside."

"So?" The prince squirms, another whimper leaves his mouth, and Jinsol feels like the sensation will make him cry, "Make them hear- let them know that their future king is getting railed by his pretty knight."

Jinsol, still unused by the talk, blushes, trying to hide himself on Jiwook's neck, "I'm just doing as you please, your highness."

The honorific flips a switch in Jiwook's eyes, darkening at the final word. He laughs, holding Jinsol's shoulders, "God, you are hopeless."

The knight hasn't even left Jiwook's neck when the prince starts to bottom out- bobbing on Jinsol's cock. 

"Jiw-" Jinsol starts, and ends, weakly. Cutting himself off when Jiwook slams himself in, sending buzzing feelings throughout Jinsol's entire body. Jiwook's moans are fast- light and soft and adorable. Jinsol pulls his face back and looks at him- crown prince Jiwook, sweat running down his silver bangs, pastel pink on his cheeks. 

Jiwook's eyes are on his, half-open and dilated. His mouth is open, emitting different pitches of noise. His lips, plump from making-out, moist from drool, is what attracts Jinsol the most- apart from Jiwook on his cock, of course. 

Images of Jiwook during that one night flashes in his head- the same pretty lips that had sucked on his cock, taking the entire length as if he'd done it before. It used to be a humiliating moment- Jiwook had dragged him to the bedroom after noticing his prominent boner. The one that was unsurprisingly caused by the prince as well, when Jinsol had stared a little too much at Jiwook's unbuttoned dress shirt. Because the latter had came from a swordsmanship match, sweaty from the activity, and it was Jinsol that had to pick him up (which Jiwook had totally not planned.)