#junho fic

You liked watching him swim while reading or drawing, something mindless that could use the background noise. But the problem came with your lack of sleep, and even more grave, when he asked you to come in the water with him. 

You could swim… barely. 

You’d learn the basics as a child, but you were never good at proper strokes, even when Junho tried to teach you. And unlike your boyfriend, who had loved being in the water since he was a child, you preferred to be dry on solid ground.

Junho appreciated every time you came to watch him practice, and he made sure you knew too, by the abundant amount of kisses he gave you after he was done training. And it was no different today. It was his first practice back after winning a gold and two silvers at the Olympics, and you could tell his coach was going a bit easier on the training. A shorter lesson, and less intense exercises.

The usual 3 hour training was over in half the time and it was a surprise when he started walking over to you with a smile on his face. You knew that smile. It was one you should’ve been wary of. But the pride and affection that had risen after his victory a week ago was still lingering, and all you could do was smile back with shining eyes, ready to shower him with kisses as soon as he reached you.

Which is exactly what you started to do, opening your arms so that there was space for him and immediately pressing your lips against his. You didn’t mind that his body was still dripping wet from the pool, although his hair was fairly dry from being in a swim cap. You fiddled with one of the strands as he pulled back to say something, sighing close to your ear as he rested his cheek against yours and you carded your fingers through his hair.

“You should come in the water with me.”

You couldn’t see his smirk, but you could hear it in his voice. That slightly mischievous teasing tone that you both loved and became wary of. You should have known he was going to ask you that. And how could you say no? Certainly not when he pulled back to make eye contact, his gaze holding all the stars in the sky in them. And it was all for you he had trained so hard and brought home that many medals. All for you that he dedicated his hard work. His biggest supporter in everything. 

So, you sheepishly put on your swimsuit that he kept in his swim bag and sat by the edge of the pool, dipping your feet in but still hesitant to commit fully. He walked up to the edge, hands resting on your thighs and a patient smile on his face. 

“You trust me, yeah?” he asked softly. You barely processed his words before you were nodding and he was scooping you up in his arms, holding you steady as he walked further into the water. You froze up slightly, clinging to his bare shoulders tighter than was strictly necessary. But your body soon realized you were in no risk of any harm by the water and you relaxed in his hold. 

He smiled at you, excited that you had agreed to this. You rarely did, always finding some excuse to avoid getting in the water, even if it was on the shallow side of the pool. But you didn’t have it in you to refuse him today. And his excitement was enough for you to get over your own irrational fear. 

“Okay for me to let go?” he asked, pressing his lips to your jaw. You gave a slightly hesitant nod and felt his arms slowly loosen around your legs. You kept yourself afloat, getting comfortable with the height of the pool. You were a few steps away from the two meter line, and while you could not touch the floor, you knew it wasn’t too far down from your feet.

“How is it?” Junho posed.

“It’s sort of nice, actually,” you reasoned. Junho grinned at your words, even though they were still only half sure. You definitely weren’t about to pick up swimming as a hobby, but perhaps you would follow your boyfriend into the water a bit more often. When there was no one around except him to witness your fear, it wasn’t quite as embarrassing. 

Which was why, when his lips brushed against your ear and his fingertips began their slow slide further up your thigh, only stopping when he could feel the heat of you through the seam of your jeans, you already had your bottom lip caught in between your teeth to hide the choked gasp you couldn’t quite hold back and were reaching for your water glass in a totally valid and reasonable attempt to hide the instinctual movement of your hips.

The odd look Chansung gave you and the gentle, “You okay?” from Nichkhun – bless him, though - made you suspect you weren’t as smooth as you would liked to have been.

Shit. You were going to kill Junho later. For now, you shot your boyfriend a look before quickly turning to look at Nichkhun and force a slight smile as you took a truly ridiculously long drink of your water before putting the now-empty glass back on the table. “Yep! Yeah, no. I’m fine. Totally okay. It’s just, um, I just remembered I have a – a thing. A deadline thing? No question mark. Definitely a deadline thing.” And there was the babbling. If they didn’t already suspect something weird, they definitely did now. Either that, or they thought you had heat stroke. Dear God, let them think I have heat stroke, you sent a silent prayer Heavenwards.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re okay? You’re all flushed.” That, from your soon-to-be-deceased boyfriend, who was looking at you with such gentle concern as he turned in his seat, leaned closer to you, and placed the hand not currently tormenting you against your forehead. “You’re warm, too.”

You couldn’t even pretend to hold back the gasp that slipped from between your lips when the hand between your thighs shifted just slightly and you felt Junho’s thumb begin a slow circle against your clit, the force of his finger and the seam on the jeans making your eyes automatically flutter shut and your hands come up to tightly grip the edge of the table. He was a demon. Truly. A fucking demon. You did manage to restrain yourself from bucking into his touch, although it was a close one.

“I – uh, y-you’re right. I feel really,” another gasp now as Junho’s fingers pressed against your entrance, “really hot.” Understatement of the century, ladies and gentlemen. It was a really good thing you wore the dark wash jeans to this lunch because you could feel your wetness soaking into the fabric.

Junho cooed – he fucking cooed – tucking your hair behind your ear and finally pulling his hands away. “Aw, baby, you’re sick? You should’ve told me earlier.”

Sucking in a deep breath, turning your gaze to your boyfriend before you glanced around the table at the others and smiled shyly, “I thought maybe I was just tired, but I guess I’m feeling worse than I thought. I’m so sorry you guys, but I think I’m gonna have to bail on lunch.”

You heard what sounded like a snicker from the other side of the table but when you looked in the direction of the sound, you saw a row of perfectly placid, definitely-not-laughing faces. Liars. Your eyes narrowed and you felt yourself flush further, grabbing your purse from the back of your chair and standing. “Junho, honey,” you said sweetly between clenched teeth, “will you give me a ride home?”

He grinned, mischief flashing in his gaze, then schooled his features into an appropriately concerned expression, nodded, and rose next to you, placing a hand against your lower back. “Of course. Let’s get you home and into bed. You can work on that deadline thing after you get some rest,” he said. Well. Points for continuity with your made up story, anyway.

As the two of you walked toward the exit of the restaurant, you absolutely did not hear one of the guys asking the others, “So, we’re all agreed they’re about to go bang, right?”

Or, in response, “Right in front of my salad!” and a chorus of chuckling.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Once you reached the car and sure you were out of view of your friends, you pushed Junho into the passenger side door and stepped into him. “Are you crazy?” you hissed. “Oh my god. I can’t believe you just – What if someone sa—oof.” Your words were cut off as you suddenly found yourself spinning around, back against the car where Junho had been two seconds prior, caged in by his hands pressed onto the frame, and his lips brushing yours. A shiver went through you and your eyes fluttered shut, hands automatically coming up to clutch at the fabric of his shirt.

“That’s kind of the point, isn’t it, sweetheart? You like the idea of being caught, don’t you?” he whispered against your lips, followed by a soft kiss and a swipe of his tongue, a gentle nip at your lower lip.

“W-What? I do n-not!” you protested, which would have been more believable if you didn’t also let out a soft whimper at the mental image. Maybe not in the middle of a restaurant, but the idea of one of the guys walking in, or watching from the shadows… Oh fuck, I have an exhibition kink?

Junho chuckled, hearing you whimper and feeling the shiver that went through you. He stepped even closer, letting you feel the press of his hips against yours, the hardness letting you know you weren’t the only one turned on by this turn of events. “Yes, you do, and it’s okay. Should I ask one of them to watch next time? Would you like that, baby? Want Taec to watch as I eat that sweet pussy? Wooyoung to watch me fuck into your mouth? Nichkhun watching me rail you stupid?”

You were going to die. Right there in the middle of the parking lot, for the world to see, you were actually going to die of sexual frustration. You gasped with each question, swallowing hard and tightening your hold on his shirt. “J-Junho, please,” you begged.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, rolling his hips against yours, then pulling back enough to meet your lust-drunk gaze with a dark, heated look of his own. “Home. Now. Before I actually fuck you right here and get us arrested,” he said and pulled you away from the door to help you into the car. Junho quickly moved to the driver’s side and climbed in, then starting the car and breaking more than one speed limit one the drive home.

----------------------------------------------------------

The two of you barely made it into the front door when you were spun around and being held against said door, Junho’s lips crashing into yours and your hands clutching at his shoulders, at his hair, any part of him you could get your hands on. You felt his hands come to your hips, then slide down to the back of your thighs, lifting you up and guiding your legs around his waist, so he could grind against you. You whimpered, pulling his hips even closer and rolling your hips, as if you could ride him right through your clothes.

“Shit, baby,” he growled, “that’s it.” He brought a hand to your chin, forcing you look at him. “So needy for me, huh?”

A very small part of you wanted to lie and deny it because it was, frankly, embarrassing how right he was. But he was right and you had been wet and aching for him since the restaurant. Revenge later. Orgasms now. You nodded, “M-mhmm,” you moaned, “Want you. Want you inside me.” You bit your lower lip, hands falling to the hem of his shirt and pulling it from the waistband of his pants. You lowered your lashes, letting him see the need in your eyes, heightened by the sound he made at your words.

Junho cursed under his breath, letting your feet fall back to the floor and grabbing the back of his shirt, pulling it the rest of the way off before throwing it somewhere behind him. Hands – yours, his, you didn’t even know – had your shirt off a moment later, and then he was kissing you, harsh and deep, tongue sliding against your own, practically fucking into your mouth.

You felt your core clench around nothing, anticipating the feeling of his cock filling you in the same way, and you gasped into his mouth. Your hands dropped to the fastening of Junho’s pants, ready to make quick work of getting the damned things off of him, but his hands came to yours and lifted them above your head, pinning them to the door on either side of you.

“Nu-uh. I’ve gotta finish what I started at lunch first, don’t I?” That was definitely his hand unfastening your jeans, sliding the zipper down, and pushing them down past your hips, while the other hand locked your wrists together and held them there. You sucked in a breath, heavy eyes locked on him, anticipating his next move. “Hands stay up, princess,” he whispered against your lips, waiting for your nod as he played with the waistband of your panties, letting his fingertips slide just beneath the fabric.

“Yes – yes, sir, okay,” you agreed.

“Good girl,” he said with a wicked grin, the hand holding yours dropping to pull your bra strap to the side, and the other slipping into your panties and finding you swollen, wet. His fingers slide against the slick flesh. “So wet for me. Have you been like this since the restaurant?”

You caught your lower lip between your teeth in an attempt to hold back the needy whimper as you nodded. “Your,” you inhaled sharply, “your fault.” You bucked your hips, silently demanding (begging?) him for more. You felt his low laugh against your collarbone, followed by soft kisses across your skin, and a sharp pinch to your nipple.

Finally – finally – Junho’s fingers found your clit and started to circle the sensitive flesh. “My poor baby,” he cooed. “I’ll take care of you, make you feel so good.” The hand at your chest reached behind you, unfastening your bra, and tearing the garment from you, baring your breasts to his heated, hungry gaze, and he slid his tongue against your nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking hard while his fingers slipped down and around your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so hot. Always so fucking hot and ready for me,” he said as he moved to tease your other breast with his tongue, one then two fingers sliding into you, voice dropping an octave.

The urge to hold onto something became too much and your fingers found their way into his hair. You pushed your breasts to him, spine arching, and you pulled his head closer, in a silent plea for him to keep sucking, keep licking, “Please,” you whimpered.

He would reprimand you for not keeping your hands up as instructed, but the needy way you clutched at him was too good. Even if he didn’t have two fingers buried inside your cunt, thrusting in and out so easily because you were soaked, he would know how much you wanted him. God, you were perfect. Junho groaned, thumb moving to your clit and rubbing around and around, just the way you liked – he knew you so well by now, knew how fast, how hard you liked it, how you would gasp and squirm, clenching down hard when his fingers found the front wall of your pussy with every thrust.

Your head was spinning as you tried to stay upright, pleasure so intense and tightening in your core, building toward what would be bliss. You muttered his name like a prayer, thanking and demanding and begging him not to stop, never to stop.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he lifted his head to promise against your lips as his fingers continued their work, as he brought you closer and closer to your high. “Gonna come for me, princess? Come around my fingers so I can fuck you with my cock?”

That was all it took.

Your fingers tightened in his hair and your hips jerked, as every muscle that had been wound into knots unraveled within you, and waves of pleasure rolled through you. “Oh God, oh God, oh God, so good, love you, oh my God,” you rambled, shaking in the arm he slid around you to hold you as you rode out your orgasm.

Watching you fall apart was his favorite part – so damned beautiful and his – but it was all he could do to wait until you were able to open your eyes to look at him, pupils blown and looking thoroughly fucked out. Once you did, though... He crashed his lips against yours as he reached down, unfastened his own pants, and shoved both them and his underwear down before spinning you around to face the door, breathing against the back of your neck and sliding his cock through your soaked folds.

Back.

Forth.

Tip teasing your still sensitive clit, pushing gently against your entrance, but not thrusting inside yet. Not until –

“Junho, please, baby,” you begged so prettily. “Need you inside me.” There it was.

Teeth and lips latched onto your skin where your neck met shoulder, he pushed inside you and moaned as he bottomed out, feeling your cunt squeezing him, walls hugging his dick, as if to keep him there. He thrust in and out slowly a couple of times, allowing your body to adjust, and took in a deep breath to stop himself from coming right then and there. You felt so good. Always felt so perfect.

That was where his self-control ended. Junho pulled his hips back and then snapped them forward, cock driving deep inside you and drawing one of those beautiful whimpers from your lips. “Fucking made for me, sweetheart,” he growled into your ear on the next snap of his hips.

You weren’t capable of a verbal response at that point, but you reached back to cradle the back of his head, holding him to your neck, and nodded, pushing your hips to meet each of his thrusts. You were his and he was yours. You didn’t normally think of yourself as a particularly possessive person, but this man had come into your life and turned all of your carefully crafted plans on their head.

Worth it. It was so worth it.

Another sharp inhale as he changed the angle of his thrusts slightly and hit just the right spot with every snap of his hips. You could already feel your second orgasm building, that tightening in your core, tension coiling in on itself as Junho fucked into you. “Oh,” a gasp, “fuck, Junho, just-,” you broke off with a whimper, forehead pressed hard to the door as you let him take you there.

Junho felt you tensing, felt the tighter squeeze around his cock and heard the way your breath hitched, the way you pushed your ass back to meet his thrusts. He moaned, feeling the tension in the base of his spine building as he drove closer to his own orgasm. His hands gripped your hips, fingertips pressing deeper into you and he leaned back enough to watch himself thrusting in and out of you, the sight always the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

“Fuck, gonna come,” he gasped. “Where do you want it?”

Shit. You had been so wrapped up in each other and what had started at lunch that you’d forgotten a condom. You squeezed your eyes shut and your pussy held his dick in a vice grip as the implications of that hit you.

“In- inside me,” you shocked yourself by saying but it was absolutely the truth. Just the thought of him filling you up – your eyes rolled back in your head and you dropped your head back to his shoulder.

His own eyes slammed shut and his next thrust was harder, a hand coming up to cup your chin and turn your head so you could lock eyes. “Yeah? Want me to come inside you, princess? Want me to fill you up with my come? So you feel it dripping out of you all day and remember you’re mine?”

Your eyes flashed with a hunger so intense it nearly took his breath away, and a matching hunger flashed in his. “Then come around my cock and take it, sweetheart. Take every drop.” The whimper you let out as you nodded had his head spinning and he locked his lips to yours, pounding into you again and again and again until he felt your orgasm, greedy cunt fluttering and squeezing, as if to demand what was promised, and

He.

Was.

Done.

With a deep groan, Junho wrapped both arms around you, holding you as closely as possible as the tension in him snapped, final thrust as deep as he can go as he spilled himself inside you for the first time. On the basest, most primitive level, you were his. If he hadn’t already come, he would at that thought.

He held himself there, not even considering pulling out, as you both caught your breath, bodies settling into the aftermath of That.

And then he smiled against your neck, finally (if reluctantly) dragging himself out of you and gently turning you in his arms. He brushed a hair out of your face and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his embrace. “I love you, too, by the way.”

Your eyes widened as you remembered what you let slip out earlier. “I – I – you,” you sputtered, face even more flushed as you buried it into the crook of his neck. “I’m still going to get back at you for lunch, but I do. Love you, obviously.”

This wasn’t your first time in the palace. Your mother had long been an accomplished seamstress for the royal family. Sometimes when you weren’t able to stay home, you stayed in the servants' quarters with the children of the other palace workers, playing house and taking naps with them.

But it was your first time working there. As you grew up, you saw your friends take up apprenticeships and slowly replace retiring workers, but unlike them, you weren’t trained in the palace. At home, your mother taught you everything you knew about sewing: how to take accurate measurements, properly tie a knot after stitching, practical stitching patterns and prints--everything she knew, every tip or secret she had, she passed on to you so when the time came for her to retire, you could take over her role.

Of course, she didn’t mean for you to work in the palace, and when you first brought up the idea to her, she was appalled.

Your mother was reluctant because, even though your position is a mere seamstress among many, she didn’t want you to get caught up in any political tensions in the palace. She knew about the King and Queen’s alliance with a fallen neighboring kingdom, and she often overheard gossip from the other seamstresses and tailors about the King’s frequent, unusual absences from the castle. The palace wasn’t exactly a peaceful place and she didn’t want you to fall into the wrong hands and become a pawn in anyone’s schemes.

She tried her best to keep you from it all--it wasn’t safe for a child like you. She was worried you would end up catching a noble’s eyes and becoming their concubine at a young age.

You heard the rumors, of course, but as a child you didn’t think much of it. You even found amusement in the rumors about the King’s secret life in the underworld.

Your mother only warmed up to the idea of you becoming a palace seamstress when she saw just how much you were capable of one day. You were visiting your mother and wanting to help as much as possible so you started sewing with her. By the end of the day, you had produced three shirts, a hat, a pair of pants, and had begun mending a hanbok. Not only was that two--almost three--people’s workload in a day, your stitching patterns were neat and consistent, your skills were honed from years of practice and presented a lot of talent. Even the head tailoress acknowledged your skills and extended an invitation for you to work for her. This and only this was the reason your mother had finally agreed.

Now, after a few more years of training with your mother at home, you were finally headed to the palace.

“The head tailoress never gives deadlines,” she explained, choosing to give you tons of advice instead of a tearful sendoff. “It’s a test, so make sure you’re taking care of business. Also, don’t engage with the others too much, especially if you’re talking about the royal family. And don’t roam the halls after dark!”

“Don’t worry!” you comforted her. “I’ll be careful. I have friends there, remember?”

And you couldn’t wait to see them again. Growing up, you were close friends with Dohyon and Minhee. Minhee was the older of the two, although Dohyon’s intellect would lead you to believe he was the elder. They were both very outgoing, and they had been the ones to approach you first. You didn’t spend a lot of time in the palace proper, but thanks to your friends, you knew there would be a certain sense of familiarity that will put your mind at ease.

You almost didn’t recognize one of them when you were greeted you at the entrance. You barely recalled his voice as he called your name.

“Yes?” you turned towards the voice. A charming young man stood in front of you, with a shock of bleached blond hair atop his head and a goofy grin spread across his face. His hands were already taking your bags from you, helping you carry your belongings to your room.

“M-Minhee?” You couldn’t believe how much had changed in the years you’d been gone.

“You haven’t changed at all.” Minhee spoke with excitement in his voice, “do you even remember me?”

“You look so different! Wow, I like… the hair?” You gestured to his head.

“Oh, this?” He took a strand and held it up to the sun, peering through it. “It was an accident. But thank you.”

Minhee grabbed a few of your bags and lifted them up, gesturing with his head in the direction you were going to go. As you trailed behind him you couldn’t help but marvel at how different he looked compared to his younger self. He had grown much taller, his smile growing brighter and his face becoming slimmer over the years. His eyes still twinkled the way you remembered, like he knew secrets no one else did.

Minhee seemed to know his way around and was greeted by almost everyone you come across, even Prince Seungyoun and his personal attendant Hangyul seemed like they were his friends. In the midst of delivering mail and showing you around, Minhee had to stop by the main hall to pick up a friend by the name of Eunsang after his rehearsal.

Eunsang was a black haired boy, with a soft and timid smile. He avoided looking in your eyes, opting to look at Minhee instead. He had a cute face, with rosy cheeks and wide, expressive eyes. He was dressed very nicely, with his hair falling sweetly across his forehead.

He handed you and Minhee two perfectly ripe apples he had taken from the kitchens earlier that morning. You thanked him and a gentle smile spread across his features. He walked with the two of you for a minute, conversing quietly with Minhee before splitting off to head to his quarters while Minhee continued to guide you to yours. Eunsang gave you a little wave before heading in and you thought you’d like to be friends with him if there was a chance.

Your quarter was the same place you stayed when you were little and you still remember all the things you hid in the room. As you set down your belongings, you spotted the small embroidery kit you had hidden away as a kid. Gazing at the small box, you smiled softly at all the memories and feelings the item evoked. After a moment of settling in, you carefully placed the kit back on top of your bags before returning back to where Minhee had waited in the hallway.

Somewhere along the way, Minhee had declared himself your “official” palace tour guide, dragging you around to all the “best places in the palace.”

The first stop? The Princes’ healer quarters, where two boys sat cross-legged on the floor, one patching up some cut wounds on the other's back. The first one whined at the poultice being applied to his back, the other snapping back about how he should be more careful in the future if he wanted to avoid this.

The healer boy had soft, curly hair, with a round face accompanied by puffy cheeks and wide, bright eyes. Even as he was berating the other boy, he had a kind voice. His professionalism contrasted heavily with his innocent appearance.

The first boy whined again, squirming away from the other’s touch, “Hyeongjun-ie…. Can’t you at least warm it up before you apply it? It’s so cold,”

“Stay still, Dongpyo,” Hyeongjun chided, “you know it doesn’t work that way. Now stop moving so I can finish faster.”

Dongpyo was even smaller than Hyeongjun, with matching puffy cheeks and wide eyes. He wore a set of dark robes, completed with many small vials attached to a belt and what appeared to be many pockets. When he finally noticed you and Minhee, he sent you a dazzling grin, pushing his cheeks up towards his eyes and making his face even more child-like. He greeted the two of you cheerfully, and Hyeongjun leaned to the side to greet you as well.

Minhee didn’t have time to introduce the two boys, but from the look of it, Hyeongjun seemed to be a healer in training of the Princes’ quarter, and Dongpyo seemed like a harmless servant boy with an unfortunate injury. You thought they were very friendly and quite capable for their age.

Next, Minhee takes you around the library, where two more young boys were waiting. One sat at a table, methodically and carefully copying something onto a scroll. The other was leaned against a bookshelf, nose buried in a tome. He looked up and rose to his feet, waving enthusiastically to you.

He easily towered over you, with a mop of white hair to rival Minhee’s. He had a bright and mischievous smile, with a boy-next-door aura to match. He seemed bright and energetic.

He walked with a skip in his step to grab you in a bone crushing hug as you wracked your memory to try and recall this boy, but couldn’t place a face to a name until Minhee spoke up.

“You know you’re not allowed in the palace Dohyon, why are you here?”

Dohyon? The chubby cheeked boy smiled with all of his teeth, the same youthful, bright smile you remembered.

“Dohyon?! Nam Dohyon?! You’re… huge!” You exclaimed, for lack of a better word.

The boy laughed, his eyes squinted into little crescents. Your childhood friend tackled you into another hug, his signature high-pitched squeak pierced your ears.

“Dohyon, please. This is a library.”

The boy who sat on the table spoke up. His voice was stern but gentle. The brush on his hand carefully placed onto its carrier as he packed up his books and scrolls. The boy stood to about Minhee’s height, a slight scowl on his rather handsome face.

“Sorry, Junho-hyung. I was just excited.” Dohyon whispered in response.

Junho sighed. You thought he gave off a very mature aura, but the youthfulness of his face betrayed this image. He seemed like he could easily be the same age as the rest, but something about him made him seem far older than he actually was.

“Your hair is still white, I see.” Junho snickered, instantly turning younger in your eyes the more he smiled.

Minhee introduced Junho as the second historian of the palace, second only to the king’s scribe. You thought it was impressive for someone his age, and he sure looked the part of someone with considerable amount of authority.

“By the way,” Minhee started, a mischievous tone in his voice, “how’s your... side project?”

The scrolls slid from Junho’s hands, and Minhee laughed as Junho scrambled to pick them up. “Attendant Minhee, do you not have other work to attend to? Shall I give you some? Here, take this document to the Crown Prince.”

Junho shoved the pile of scrolls onto Minhee so aggressively you wondered what this “side project” entailed--even Dohyon was giggling at this point.

After this, Minhee left for his work and let you to roam around the palace, and you busied yourself with packing and helping out with various tasks in the seamstress quarter.

At the end of the night as you head to your quarter, you felt as if someone was watching you. It was curiosity that got you out of your quarter to look around, and within seconds, you spotted a silhouette on the roof.

You thought it was rather strange, because they seemed to be… waving to you? The figure gave you a peace sign, then disappeared as fast as he appeared. In a flash, the figure landed in front of you, tilting his head as if to get you to follow him.

You recognized him as Dongpyo, one of the boys you had seen in the healer’s quarters earlier. He didn’t speak, but from the bounce in his step as he led you toward your destination, you could tell he was in a good mood.

It didn’t take long to arrive at the healer’s quarters, the scene livelier than you previously recalled. Junho and Hyeongjun were playing cat’s cradle, and Dohyon was chatting animatedly next to them.

You saw Dongpyo running to the pair, whining that Hyeongjun was playing with someone else, and Hyeongjun in turn scolding him for being so late to the party.

Junho nodded towards your direction as you crossed the bridge to enter the small pavilion, flanked by a beautiful stream. You could hear the sweet sound of the water echoing quietly through the walls of the pavilion, like twinkling silver bells. The lights above were just enough for you to see everyone’s face, aided by fireflies occasionally flickering across their features.

As they spotted you, the boys smiled and waved. Hyeongjun and Dongpyo assumed you hadn’t received a proper introduction so they introduced themselves.

“How was your first day?” Dohyon greeted you cheerfully as you sat down besides Hyeongjun.

“Nervous, busy, exciting?” you answered honestly.

You heard the other boys let out a loud cheer as they spot Minhee and Eunsang crossing the bridge, holding what appeared to be food containers wrapped in silk cloth. Eunsang also appeared to be carrying a gayageum and a small mask in one hand.

Hyeongjun greeted the pair, rushing over to them to help carry the food over. As he ran back, you heard Junho speak up.

“How was the audition? Were the performers any good?” Junho seemed genuinely interested.

Minhee responded first, “The performers were exceptional, and one even caught the attention of the Queen. Looks like they’re going to be a new court dancer.”

Junho nodded, turning his attention to Eunsang as if waiting for the black-haired boy to add to the story.

He didn’t, focusing instead on setting up his gayageum on the floor next to Junho.

Dohyon chimed in before Junho had the chance to pry any further, “Speaking of new additions, our new seamstress was just telling us about their first day!”

You blushed at the sudden attention, waving your hands in front of your face, “Ah, there’s not really much to talk about, I’ve just gotten my first orders.”

“Seamstress’s orders? Designing new hats for the mailboys?” Minhee joked, clearly knowing more than he let on.

“Something like that.” You gave him a pointed look, but decided he probably knew of your work since he was in fact the main attendant across all quarters.

In front of you were a tray of small dumplings, with numerous side dishes laid out neatly against the wooden floor. Dongpyo, Hyeongjun, and Minhee had already started eating.

“Why are we out here anyway? I thought there was food in the great hall.” you asked.

“You missed my summoning spell earlier,” Dohyon exclaimed. “I made the fireflies come!” His voice going up in pitches before popping a dumpling in his mouth.

“How did you know these fireflies didn’t just fly here themselves?” Minhee teased.

Junho sighed, gently guiding one away from his face as he picked up a dumpling and placed it in his mouth.

“We‘ve never had fireflies in this part of the castle. I think it’s impressive,” Eunsang interjected, giving Dohyon a thumbs up as he chowed down his dumpling.

“They’d better not eat my herbs, for your sake,” Hyeongjun said, his voice stern, but his face betrayed his tone, melting into a warm smile as he reached up to ruffle the younger boy’s hair. Dohyon pouted, lips poking out more as he chewed, trying to push Hyeongjun’s hand away.

“I know we’re not just out here for fireflies,” you joked, half-serious.

“You’re right, it’s because I’m not allowed in the great hall anymore,” Dohyon replied, grabbing another dumpling.

Before you could ask why, Dongpyo looked at you and shook his head, deadpan, “He summoned a huge lizard at lunch last month and was banned for life.”

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding.

“But it was so funny,” Dongpyo added, giggling as he picked up another dumpling.

Seeing as Dohyon continued to sulk, you felt a little bad for bringing up the question so you decided to change the topic. “By the way, what were you talking about earlier? You seemed excited.”

“Oh, yeah!” Dohyon finished his dumpling before perking up again, his eyes a little wider than usual. “So as I was telling everyone, Seungyoun-hyung and I were up in a half-dead tree in the middle of a storm on our excursion last month. It was a dare from Hangyul-hyung, so we climbed the tallest tree to see who would reach the top first, but a storm broke out. Seungyoun-hyung and I were so scared, we were hugging the branch and praying we don’t get struck by lightning or the King and Queen would kill us both. He even promised to visit the temple more often if we get out safely. Then Hangyul-hyung on the ground was telling us that we have less to worry about because if we get struck by lightning, we’ll be dead anyway. Oh man, you should have seen the look on Seungyoun-hyung’s face! Hangyul-hyung still laughs at him to this day."

“So how did you guys get down in the end?” Dongpyo asked, leaning forward to cup his chin on his hands, smiling sweetly at the younger boy.

“The wind knocked us down,” Dohyon explained. “The wind was strong, the tree was frail, we were giants--it fell over.”

“Thankfully you came back in one piece,” Minhee sighed. Even Junho had stopped eating to gape at Dohyon’s reckless story.

Dohyon simply smiled as he held up his hand and showed everyone the long gash across his palm. “This came from the tree,” he added, punctuating his sentence with another dumpling.

“That’s it?” Dongpyo asked, shocked. “I’ve fallen off low rooftops and got more banged up than that.”

You also wondered how he only had that one scar. You’ve had more scratched up hands and knees from chasing Minhee and Dohyon around the palace when you were younger.

“When he came to me, I almost cried because there was so much blood on his arm,” Hyeongjun pouted and knitted his eyebrows together. You could hear the lilt of his accent poking through as he recalled the memory. “It took me so long to patch him up--he gave me such a fright.”

“I had to soften the landing somehow.” Dohyon whined. “Seungyoun-hyung was so athletic he landed on his feet just fine, but I only run, occasionally, to get away from Minhee-hyung, so I had to do it.”

“Oooh,” Minhee chimed in, “did you use magic outside the palace again?”

“Are you trying to get caught?” Junho pressed, a terse undercurrent in his voice that everyone could hear.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Dongpyo replied defensively. “He just-”

Dongpyo’s head snapped toward the stream before he could finish his sentence. Everyone followed his gaze even though nobody else had heard anything.

“On second thought, be careful,” Dongpyo warned. “That sounded a lot like a guard.”

“How did you hear--,” you started, eyebrows knitting together.

“Eunsang, what are you doing?” Hyeongjun teased, giggling and pointing at Eunsang from across the pavillion.

You looked over at the boy who had his hands positioned on either side of his legs. One hand’s fingers was mostly outstretched while the other looked poised to flick something.

“I started a new song today,” he said quietly, dropping his hands to the floor.

“By all means, keep practicing,” you encouraged him. “If I could practice like that, I would.”

He smiled shyly, reaching over and grabbing his instrument. He started to finger at the strings and a soft melody began floating through the air.

“So what exactly are you doing in the palace, anyway?” Dongpyo asked, turning his attention towards you.

“Well, my mother is the head seamstress,” you started. “Since she’s retiring soon and had to find a replacement, she sent me.”

“Mmmm…” Dongpyo hummed.

You weren’t sure if he was acknowledging your response or encouraging you to continue, so you continued.

“The head seamstress seems to want me to prove my worth, so they sent me a list of tasks to complete. I have a bunch of clothes that need mending, I hardly know where to start!”

“Ooh, mine first, please!” Dongpyo exclaimed, his sudden change in volume startled you a little. “All my clothes have some kind of holes in them. Especially the pockets.”

You could have sworn he winked at you before you heard someone else speak. What exactly was Dongpyo’s job that would cause his pockets to tear?

“The attendant hats are so uncomfortable, mine gives me a headache,” Minhee piped up. “Actually, do you mind adding buttpads to the scribes’ uniforms?”

Both you and Junho give him a confused look.

“For what? My uniform is quite fine the way it is,” Junho quipped.

“I don’t know,” Minhee said. “You seem pretty butthurt sitting on that chair all day.”

Junho groaned, shaking his head as he held the bridge of his nose. Everyone looked on with snickering smiles on their faces, trying hard not to laugh in case Junho got mad.

“You have to admit you almost laughed,” Dohyon patted his friend’s shoulder, not minding the fact that Junho was staring daggers at him.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed.

The group of you talked and ate for another hour or so before deciding it was time to pack up for the night. Junho had left first, saying something about needing to finish the rest of his work, with Dohyon leaving shortly after him. The rest filtered out naturally, and you were left to wander back to your quarters with Eunsang, as Minhee had been summoned with Dongpyo to meet with the Crown Prince.

Eunsang and you made light conversation as you walked, your mind still swirling from the events of the evening.

You bid goodnight to Eunsang, still thinking about what you should do the upcoming morning. You needed to get started on your work, but you didn’t want to be working by yourself if you could be working with one of the boys.

Which boy did you want to work with in the morning?

——————————————————————————————–

c h o i c e s: Junho, Dongpyo, Minhee, Eunsang, Hyeongjun, Dohyon

Read hyung prologue.