#onjongtae

Collapsing into his usual spot on the train after work is, as always, the best part of Taemin's day. He sprawls himself out, bag next to him, head tipped back against the window, and exhales. Free at last. Free for 37 minutes of commute on the least crowded compartment. There's only the usual suspects in here with him: a group of business bros, some girl coming back home from band practice, and the giggle squad in the back corner. One or two strangers, but whatever.

Taemin pulls out his phone and opens up his podcast app, opening up to where he left off and hitting play. He wiggles an earbud into his right ear, then pulls out his mp3 player and wiggles an earbud from that into his left ear. He pulls his work cap down to cover the top half of his face, adjusts the black facemask over the bottom half of his face, and lets himself deflate into a sigh. 

And then, he straight fucking chills for three stops. The only reason he puts a pause to his chilling is because he sees two pairs of feet stop in front of him. He glances up; two guys are holding onto the pole in front of him instead of sitting down in one of the many empty spots. He doesn't recognize them from being on this route before, either. Well. Whatever floats their boat.

Something about them, though. About the way they stand, so close together, their fingers linked on the pole. About their aura, so comfortable, both clearly tired but both clearly so invested in the other's presence. They're both also wearing facemasks, but as Taemin watches, one of them bumps their mask against the other one’s cheek in what is unmistakably a little smooch. 

The smooched one’s eyes get all crescent mooney and Taemin can't help but feel the same. He loves fruit. He loves seeing other queers out in the wild. Makes him feel all fuzzy on the inside. He keeps watching them, hidden behind the brim of his hat.

The smooched one is wearing a hat too, the brim of it sticking out from underneath his black hoodie hood. Underneath the hoodie is a long white t-shirt that falls almost down to his knees, and his ripped grey skinny jeans disappear inside brown boots. His boyfriend is a little taller with comfortable shoes, baggy jeans, a dark blue sweater, round glasses, and his facemask attached to a string around his neck. His dyed reddish brown bangs fall into his eyes, but he pushes a hand through them and they stay back in a suave little flip for a moment before falling back down.

Reaching up, the shorter one pushes his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, brushing and styling it, parting his bangs and twirling them around his fingers to give them a little bounce. Smile obvious behind his mask, the taller one puts a finger underneath the shorter’s chin and tilts his face up. Then he cups his jaw, rubbing his thumb over his cheekbone, and then he reaches behind his ear to fix up the string of his mask. 

Cute, Taemin thinks, and then the taller reaches behind his boyfriend's head, inside of his hood, and weird, Taemin thinks. The hood falls down around his shoulders, revealing a strap around his head, buckled at the back, for just a second before the taller pulls the hood back up, and fuck, Taemin thinks. 

The taller murmurs a question and the shorter nods his head happily and realization hits Taemin like a truck. He feels his eyes widen, his mouth pop open in a soft gasp underneath his own mask. 

Gag. There's a gag under there. Right now, in this moment, on this train, that little fruit has a gag in his mouth.

Taemin is so caught up in his surprise that he doesn't realize he's staring openly until the taller one glances at him, then does a double-take. His eyes draw Taemins and for just a moment, they look at each other. Normally Taemin would look away, not wanting to interact with strangers in public, but he's just. So impressed. So in awe. That all he can think of to do is raise his eyebrows and point a finger to the center of his mask.

Another moment, and then, unmistakably, even with his mask covering his mouth, the taller one smirks. He winks, too, and Taemin can't help the breath of laughter that wheezes out of him. Automatically, his hand folds itself into a thumbs up, which is embarrassing, but at least the guy appreciates it. 

The exchange draws the attention of the shorter one, the gagged one. He looks at Taemin, head tilted, confused, and then all of a sudden, his eyes widen and he turns away, pushing his forehead into his boyfriend’s shoulder. Grinning, the taller one says something into his ear. The shorter one shoves him, a hand forceful on his shoulder, but the smile doesn't leave his face. For a moment, the shorter glares at the taller, and then the shorter looks back at Taemin.

His body language changes; he doesn't look nervous, but he does look shy, his head ducked down between his shoulders, his hands in his hoodie pocket, his eyes darting from the floor to Taemin and back. And his smile, even behind his mask, big, mischievous, knowing. He gives Taemin a small wave by his hip.

Taemin realizes suddenly that he's still just sitting there with his thumb up. Even more embarrassing. Quickly he rubs the back of his neck, then puts his hand in his lap, then on his shoulder, then back into his lap, trying to figure out what to do. His ears burn and he's glad that his work cap covers them. The bridge of his nose feels hot too, though, and there's no hiding that. 

Still grinning, the tall one pulls his backpack in front of him and starts digging around in it. He pulls out a pad of sticky notes and a pen, then pushes on his boyfriend's shoulder, turning him around. His boyfriend obeys at the first touch like it's instinctual. Using his back as a writing surface, the Tall one scribbles something down and then plucks off the little piece of paper. He hands it to his boyfriend with another affectionate bump of a kiss on his cheek. 

The short one reads it, hides his eyes behind it, hides his face in his boyfriend's shoulder again, and then straightens up. This time when he turns to Taemin, he's not shy. He steps forward, holds out the piece of paper, and, when Taemin takes it, winks at him. Intrigued, Taemin reads it.

you can add us if you want pictures and videos ! jinki+jonghyun ^__^ ㅎxㅎ

And a username for an app that Taemin already has. 

Well. 

Taemin pulls his phone out of his pocket. He opens the app, types in their username, and adds them, smiling at their profile picture of the two of them smiling big with their cheeks pressed together. His friend request is accepted almost immediately, and when he glances up, they're both peering over the shorter’s – Jonghyun’s – phone. They turn away from Taemin and the taller, Jinki, raises the phone to take a selfie.

They send it and Taemin gets the notification a moment later as an update to their story. Immediately he taps on it to watch the video. The two of them smile into the camera, cheeks pressed together just like their profile picture. Someone noticed us on the train lol is captioned at the bottom in bold peachy orange letters; Jinki raises the camera just enough to show Taemin sitting behind them. Thankfully they put a little dolphin emoji over his face. He wishes he'd known anyway, though, so he could have waved or something.

Then he stops caring because in the video, Jinki slowly tugs the mask down off of Jonghyun's mouth to reveal not just a ball gag, but a pink heart-shaped gag stretching his lips. “Cock” is written on one of his cheeks and “slut” on the other in black marker. 

"Oh my fucking god," Taemin mutters out loud. Jinki pulls jonghyuns mask back up with a wink and the video ends and taemin doesn't think he's ever gotten a boner faster in his life. Not fair. 

What's worse is that the app continues to show him pictures and videos of their day so far: walking around town with the gag, Jonghyun feeling Jinki up underneath the table in a cafe, Jonghyun’s pretty pink tongue drooling before Jinki puts the gag on it, Jonghyun sucking Jinki’s – 

Taemin ran a thumb along the cork of the wine bottle in his lap.

Jinki should’ve shown up by now. This afternoon, Taemin had been late for his daily briefing from the Valuan Armada because he’d slipped away to remind Jinki of their plans. There was no chance Jinki could have forgotten, and it wasn’t as if their plans required any preparations. They were going to meet for drinks and cards after dinner. That was all Taemin had asked for.

And yet, despite all Taemin’s reminders, the plan had fallen through. Taemin set the bottle down on the table hard enough to rattle the still-empty glasses. When was the last time they’d gotten to spend time alone? Months ago?

With every day his mother got older, the court circled closer to him, desperate for some sort of connection before the Empress died and  his ass was permanently cemented on the throne. Nobles that had ignored him for years, thinking their efforts at winning favor were better spent on his mother, now acted like his best friend. Taemin pretended not to notice and dismissed them as smoothly as he could. He didn’t want sycophants. If he was ever going to take advice, he wanted it to be from someone that had always been there for him.

Only he didn’t have someone like that anymore. That was becoming more and more apparent.

Tonight wasn’t the first time Jinki had snubbed him. For the past year, Jinki had withdrawn. They no longer shared tables at parties, no longer met in the Armada training yards to hone their swordplay or marksmanship, no longer sent each other suffering looks when an admiral decided to ruin an evening with inflated tales of the latest land they had conquered or air pirate they had apprehended.

Well. Taemin still sent Jinki looks—they just weren’t returned.

Taemin had tried to broach the distance between them. Surely, something had gone wrong to make their friendship to change so drastically. But every time he asked, Jinki would give him that damned glowing smile and insist things were the same—he was just tired, or busy, or distracted. Taemin would feel stupid for worrying and drop it, then feel stupid again once the evening was done and he returned to the royal wing with a knot in his chest.

He gave Jinki another quarter hour. The rapid-fire thwacks as Taemin shuffled his cards drowned out the unrelenting ticks of the grandfather clock, but his eyes never left it.

The quarter hour passed. Five more minutes, he told himself. Then one last shuffle, as if that were a unit of time.

His hands shook—with rage, hurt, or shame, he didn’t know—and when the two stacks of cards interlocked and bent, he misjudged their placement. The edges caught, sending the deck flying out the two neat stacks and across the table.

Taemin swore and stood, leaving the cards scattered.

The door of the lounge slammed behind him. He stomped towards the wing of the palace where Jinki spent most of his nights. Though his family had a mansion a short walk away in Upper City, they kept a suite at the palace, too. His mother and father were heavy enough drinkers that a closer place to crash after parties was prudent.

Taemin rapped a gloved hand against the door. The head servant of their palace staff answered, eyes widening when he recognized Taemin. The poor man wasn’t at fault for Jinki’s failure to appear, so Taemin tried to manage a smile.

“Good evening,” Taemin said. “I’m looking for Jinki. He was supposed to meet me in the Silver Moon lounge for drinks. Is he in there? Is it possible he’s gone to the wrong room for our meeting?”

“I’m sorry, your highness. I wasn’t aware he had a meeting with you. He’s left for the night.”

Taemin froze. “Left?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“And he didn’t tell you what for?”

The man shook his head. “I’m sure it must have been urgent, if he abandoned your appointment without speaking to you first.”

“I’m sure it was.” Taemin crossed his arms and scowled. If Jinki didn’t want to be friends with him any longer, the least he could do was say it. “Thanks for letting me know, at least.”

“Of course, your highness. I apologize again for his absence.”

The servant gave a hasty bow and shut the door with a too-loud click, no doubt eager to escape a pissed-off prince.

Taemin stared at the lacquered oak, then snapped out of his daze and paced the hall as he tried to decide what to do with another night alone. He stopped at one of the palace’s dozen balconies that looked over the grounds and squinted through the fog. Under the yellow moon and its constant storms, even wealth and magic weren’t enough to create the sort of lush and well-tended gardens royalty possessed in books. Instead, their status was displayed through fountains, statues, intricate marble pathways, and electric lamps to make up for the lack of natural color.

Though the rainfall was no more than a drizzle—a rarity—only a few figures strolled the grounds. Taemin propped an elbow against the window ledge and watched. The lights cast everything in a faint, murky yellow, but he could make out the black piping of a familiar coat at a distance.

His jaw flexed in anger. He’d recognize that stupid out of fashion garment anywhere.

Dashing down the stairs, he ran towards an exit that would put him closest to where he’d spotted Jinki.

He needed to see what was so damn important to make Jinki skip out on him.

The way out sent him past one of the palace’s dozen laundry rooms. He grabbed a plain outfit and rain cloak as he passed through, figuring a change of clothes would help him escape notice if he had to tail Jinki further out of the palace grounds.

Jinki’s pace was leisurely, and Taemin’s rush allowed him to catch up with Jinki just as he reached one of the lesser-used and lazily-guarded gates between the palace and the Upper City.

They both passed through without questions. When they reached a crowded strip of brightly-lit theatres, shops, and pubs, Taemin almost lost interest in his pursuit—what could be found in one opulent drinking place that wasn’t found in the palace?—but he continued to follow until Jinki ducked into an alleyway.

The alley was empty when Taemin rounded the corner. He swore, convinced that he’d lost Jinki, then spotted an open manhole cover. He approached the entrance slowly, nose wrinkling at the stink that emitted from inside. After waiting a minute to give Jinki a better lead, he climbed down the ladder.

Grabbing clothes turned out to be a brilliant idea. Taemin changed out of his dinner clothes as he walked along the dark tunnel, heart racing. Judging by its direction and slope, the tunnel led to the Lower City. The new clothes wouldn’t allow him to blend in perfectly, but at least they weren’t silk, and the cloak would cover most of it. He’d only have to worry about his boots.

Finally, he reached an end and another open manhole. Taemin climbed up, worried if he waited too long he’d lose Jinki in the unfamiliar streets above. When he emerged into another alley, all he had to do was step out onto the street to find Jinki again.

Taemin closed the distance between them. The constant rumble of thunder drowned out his heaviest footsteps, and even if Jinki turned, only half of the street lamps worked. The few that did flickered, switching the appearance of those passing beneath them from pallid to jaundiced on a whim. Only the periodic flash of lightning might give away his face, but Jinki never looked back.

They wound their way through the dirty streets of Lower City, until finally, Jinki approached one of the battered buildings that lined the stone-and-cement paths.

A pub.

Taemin let him enter alone. Why would Jinki come here? And why would he refuse to tell anyone about it? If he simply wanted to avoid Taemin or the other nobility and drink alone, it’d make sense, but the visit was hardly illicit. Plenty of nobles enjoyed visiting the Lower City for their less-than-legal affairs or an unrestrained night on the town. If Jinki enjoyed slumming it, Taemin couldn’t imagine why he’d keep it so secret.

One of the pub’s walls was half open, separated from an outside porch by a single counter. A tin veranda protected the crowd and tables that spilled outside from the steady rain. Most of the drinkers appeared to be workers, judging by the soot and ash that covered their arms and breeches. There were others—a few low-ranking soldiers and off-duty servants as well—but one table stood out amongst the rest.

The men and women seated there wore mismatched clothes, some in dresses, vests, scarves, and shirts. All were armed, visibly or otherwise. And each outfit had one thing in common: a touch of blue.

Blue Rogues. Pirates.

Taemin shifted his attention to the entry and exit of the pub and waited. If Jinki stayed inside, Taemin would have to go in to observe him and risk being noticed. Outside, he might have a chance.

After what felt like hours, Jinki reappeared under the veranda with an overflowing mug in hand. He moved through the crowd with ease and a clear destination: the table of Blue Rogues.

Taemin’s eyes widened. Surely, Jinki was meeting with someone Taemin didn’t see—someone  behind the pirates and out of view, or some friend that had somehow gotten roped into their lively game of cards—but when Jinki arrived, the entire table of Blue Rogues cheered.

Jinki returned the greetings with half-hugs and laughter as he made his way around the table. Taemin watched, lips parted in shock, when Jinki finally stopped—and climbed into the lap of the eyepatched man at the head of it.

Heat raced to Taemin’s face. Oh, moons.

The man stole a kiss, then steered Jinki around by his hips to face the table and pressed a drink into his hand. The chatter and card games at the table resumed, though a few gazes lingered on the pair.

To Jinki, the whole event was plainly routine. He sipped from his mug, unbothered as the man— pirate— beneath him ran a hand along his ribs.

Taemin weighed his next action. This certainly wasn’t what he expected to find after following Jinki. But if he went back to the palace, what was he going to do? Sleep like normal, as if Jinki hadn’t ditched him and snuck out that very night to fuck a Blue Rogue?

He’d never cared before who Jinki slept with. It wasn’t his business. But Jinki had made  this  particular man his business by abandoning their plans for this.

Taemin tightened his cloak around himself and marched into the pub.

Immediately, he felt out of place. No primly uniformed server came to greet him at the door and escort him to an exclusive table sectioned off from the others with velvet curtains. The ordering system here was cut-throat. Shouts for drinks and meals rose over the din, with the returned yell from staff shielded from the overflowing drinks and food scraps by only a dirtied apron.

Content to be ignored, Taemin wove through the crowded pub until he reached the door to the patio. He hovered at the threshold, hesitant—this might be his last chance to go unnoticed—and jumped when a man shoved past him.

“Watch it, kid,” the man grumbled. “You’re blocking the whole fucking door.”

Taemin righted himself just before he fell. His heart pounded. He was completely out of his element. But he wasn’t turning back now. Jinki would never expect him to appear here, and maybe that would be the shock the man needed to realize what an ass he’d been for the past few months.

He kept his chin high as he approached the Blue Rogues. If there was one thing he knew about that sort of pirate, it was that they respected confidence. He stopped beside Jinki and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Good evening, Jinki.”

Instantly, he regretted his choice of greeting. Half the table turned to him, some with snickers, some with only a raised brow or puckered lips in mockery of his Upper City accent.

He flushed, but refused to step back. Jinki took his time turning—the pirate under him had been lifting another drink to his lips, and he couldn’t move without spilling the ale all down his front. When Jinki finally managed to look at him, his eyes went wide, but any words remained stuck in his throat.

The eyepatched man took in Jinki’s shock and scanned Taemin, gaze lingering on Taemin’s unworn and well-made boots, before tightening a protective arm around Jinki’s waist. “A friend of yours?”

“Yes,” Jinki said, clipped. “What are you doing here?”

“I think I should be asking what  you’re  doing here. Or who.”

The pirate snorted. He set his drink aside and leaned around Jinki to extend a hand. “I’m Jonghyun. Captain. Good to meet you.”

“Jonghyun,” Taemin repeated, shocked out of his attention on Jinki. He shook Jonghyun’s hand out of instinct before thinking to refuse. “The son of Eunkyung The Legend?”

“That’s my mom.” Jonghyun gave a mocking salute. “I see you’re up to date on bounties.”

“Yes. Valua sets most of those bounties, and it’s exciting gossip for the nobility.”

“Which you’re one of, I assume—like Jinki. You have a name?”

“Taemin,” he said, and left it at that. Even if he didn’t want to hide who he was, titles felt inappropriate here.

“Taemin,” Jonghyun repeated. “As in...”

“As in  the prince,”  Jinki finished for him.

“Oh.” Jonghyun inspected Taemin for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to be bothered, before finally shrugging. “Do I still have to pay for your drinks, if you’re joining us as a guest?”

“I think there’s bigger things to worry about,” Jinki muttered, glancing back. He leaned towards Taemin, but Jonghyun’s arm snaked around his waist to stop him from leaving earshot. After a small sigh, Jinki continued anyway, voice low and pleading. “Please don’t tell anyone of this. I don’t care about my reputation, but I don’t want the armada or anyone else finding out that Jonghyun comes here. He could get hurt.”

“I won’t.” Taemin’s eyes kept flicking to where Jonghyun’s hand rested on Jinki’s thigh, keeping him balanced. “I’m not a snitch.”

Jinki’s lips remained a thin line. Jonghyun patted his leg in reassurance.

“I could handle myself even if he did tell the armada, Jinki. I’ve been doing this my whole life. Hell, half the ships we rob  are  Valuan armada airships. That’s how Blue Rogues work.”

“I know, but...”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Taemin emphasized. “I only wanted to see what you’re doing that’s so important. We had plans tonight. Or did you forget?”

Jinki flushed. “Jonghyun doesn’t get to visit often, so when I heard he was in town...”

“You ditched him?” Jonghyun interjected. “I’m flattered you wanted to see me so badly, but that’s awfully rude of you.”

Jinki buried his face in his hands. “Years of etiquette lessons, and I’m getting lectured on manners by a pirate...”

“You could have at least told me something came up, so I didn’t have to hear some vague excuse from your servant,” Taemin said.

“I was worried you’d see through any lie I came up with.”

“Well, that backfired,” Jonghyun added.

“Clearly,” Taemin said, arms crossed. “I know everything now.”

“I’m sorry,” Jinki said. “I won’t do it again.”

Taemin bit his lip. He  was  hurt that Jinki had abandoned him. But he was intrigued enough by the reason to ignore the sting. It’d be foolish to come out all this way and not see what sort of romance Jinki had with a pirate.

“It’s fine,” Taemin sighed. “Though you’re definitely going to owe me something after this. Maybe a proper fencing match. Or a dinner from your family’s chef.”

Jinki smiled. “I think I can do that.”

Jonghyun’s hand soothed over Jinki’s knee. “Glad you two were able to kiss and make up.” When Jinki frowned and turned back, Jonghyun tucked Jinki against his neck to muffle his protest. “Since you’re already here, your highness, do you want to join us tonight? I’m not sure what sort of plans you had with Jinki.”

“We were going to play cards. And drink, probably.”

“Conveniently, we can do both of those here,” Jonghyun said. “Take a seat.” He swiped an abandoned deck from a few of his crew that had decided an arm wrestling match was more enticing, then passed it to Jinki.

“Mind shuffling this for us, handsome?”

Jinki sent Taemin an apologetic look before cutting the deck in half. The flutter of cards as he shuffled kept Taemin’s attention, though he felt Jonghyun’s gaze on him. When he finally found the nerve to meet Jonghyun’s eye, the pirate gave him a toothy smile.

“Are we playing for anything? I imagine you have quite deep pockets.”

Taemin licked his lips. He usually made friendly bets with Jinki when they played, so he had brought a small coin purse—and he’d already expected it to be empty by the end of the night. Jinki trounced everyone at court in cards.

“I have some money on me, though it’s probably not as much as you’re hoping for.” Taemin watched Jonghyun warily when Jinki started to hand cards back to Jonghyun, but made no move to leave his lap. “If you can see Jinki’s cards, I’m not sure it’ll be a fair game. You two could gang up on me.”

“Not if he keeps them on his right side.” Jonghyun tapped his eye patch. “This is real. Can’t see shit through it. Or without it, really. Lost it in a ship battle a few years ago with one of your armada vessels.” He held up his drink. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”

Jinki pursed his lips. “Maybe he just wants me out of your lap, Jonghyun. People are never this flagrant about their relationships at the palace.”

“Too bad. I only get to see you twice a month at  most.  If he’s not going to complain about you being in my lap, you’re staying.”

Jinki rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his lips that stuck as he finished dealing their cards.

“I don’t mind it,” Taemin said, which was true. He’d never seen this side of Jinki before. Maybe it was strange to observe his old friend so closely, but he was fascinated.

He pulled his first hand of cards up to his nose and fought back a scowl. Already, he was off to a bad start.

Their first pot of coins went to Jonghyun. Then the next. After Taemin took a few losses to Jonghyun without complaint, the tension in Jinki’s shoulders eased—probably convinced that Taemin wasn’t about to run and turn Jonghyun over to the armada. As they drank, they talked, and Jinki and Jonghuyn relaxed back into the behavior Taemin assumed was their usual in the dingy pub.  

And Taemin watched.

Jonghyun would nose aside the longer hair against the back of Jinki’s neck, exposing his nape for a kiss that made his mouth twitch with a noiseless gasp. Jonghyun’s left hand switched between lifting a tankard to his lips, running along Jinki’s side, and roaming over his stomach. His right stayed on Jinki’s thigh, low towards the knee, but sometimes it moved up. Only then would Jinki push Jonghyun’s hand away—but it was always with a grin and a quiet glance that promised a later.

The thought made Taemin’s blood burn. Jonghyun couldn’t be that posssive. Jinki slept with people at the palace. But all of those affairs happened out of Taemin’s view—he only heard rumors or short mentions—so his image of Jinki had stayed the same through the years, even as Taemin absently noted his attractiveness. They were friends.

Now, though—he wondered at their dynamic, at what Jinki might be like. What was it like when they stole a moment alone? Was it like now, both of Jonghyun’s hands on him, gripping and guiding? Or was that just how the pirate captain acted in public to stake his claim, while in bed he’d lie back and let someone else order him around?

Taemin swallowed back every image with a mouthful of ale. Occasionally, Jonghyun would send what felt like a knowing glance from his single eye, and heat would race through him.

The dozenth time their gazes caught—while Jonghyun’s hand slipped inside Jinki’s pocket—was enough to push Taemin over the edge.

He licked his lips and leaned towards them. He needed to be close if he wanted to be heard over the din that had grown with each glass served.

“I have a question,” he said.

Jinki leaned in to hear him better. Jonghyun shifted Jinki aside until he was only inches behind him. Taemin’s attention flicked between their faces. This close, he could lean forward and kiss either of them if he wanted to.

Taemin inhaled sharply, suddenly needing air. “Do you both sleep around? You’re not exclusive to each other?”

Jinki’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You know the answer to that.”

Jonghyun’s smile widened and grew crooked. “Why, are you interested?”

“Yes,” Taemin said. There was no point in hiding it, and he was tipsy enough to be direct.

Jinki’s eyes widened. “Taemin—“

“I’ve been watching you two grab at each other for hours now,” Taemin interrupted. “Is that not supposed to stoke something in me?”

Jinki froze. Jonghyun’s hand rubbed up his side, along his ribs, before he kissed Jinki’s neck.

“If you’re jealous or uninterested, I’ll stop this now,” Jonghyun whispered to Jinki. If Taemin wasn’t staring to read his lips, he wouldn’t have caught a word. “You always come first.”

“You know I don’t get jealous.”

Jonghyun leaned back to look at him. “Then why are you pouting? Is it different, because he’s a friend?”

“It’s different because he’s the  prince ,” Jinki hissed.

Jonghyun grinned. “Is that supposed to make it less exciting?”

“I’m cutting you off,” Jinki said, sliding Jonghyun’s mug away from him. “You’re drunk.”

“As you always do, when I have my best ideas.”

Jinki sent Jonghyun a final, reproaching look before returning his attention to Taemin. “You’ve never said anything about wanting to sleep together.”

“It’s not like you’ve ever made a display of yourself at the palace,” Taemin said. “I never gave it much thought. We’ve been friends all our lives, and we only see each other at parties and ceremonies anymore.”

“I didn’t realize how much that bothered you.”

“Of course it bothered me. I  missed  you. You’re the only damn person I trust in the palace.”

Jinki’s brow furrowed, though a flush crawled across his cheeks, and his lips remained pursed. In the silence, Jonghyun’s attention bounced between them before he reached out and tugged Taemin towards them by his shirt.

“Why don’t we do something to make up for lost time? I’ll be happy to help you two bond,” Jonghyun offered.

“I don’t want things to get complicated,” Jinki said.

“It’s not complicated,” Taemin protested. “You’re my friend. Anything else, well...” he shrugged. He didn’t care what they did—cards or drinking or simply talking. But it was hard for fucking not to be the first thing on his mind when Jonghyun and Jinki were doing everything but that right in front of him. “I don’t need to spend time with you like that, but I’d enjoy it. And I’m guessing you two planned to spend your night fucking, anyway.”

Jinki licked his lips. He watched intently as Jonghyun balled more of Taemin’s shirt into his hand, forcing him closer, until Jonghyun leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth. Though Taemin should have seen it coming, he nearly jolted back at the contact. He’d never been kissed in front of anyone, let alone someone’s lover. His eyes flew up to Jinki, uncertain of what he’d find, then widened. There was no jealousy in his stare. Only heat.

Jonghyun tilted his head back towards Jinki. “I can see your gears turning. You’re thinking about it.”

“Maybe,” Jinki murmured.

“You need more images? Or some ideas?”

“No.” Jinki took the half-empty mug he’d stolen from Jonghyun and downed in a single, long swallow. “I’ve thought about it before, honestly.”

Taemin inhaled. “Me joining you with Jonghyun?”

“Just you. The thinking was...a while ago. Years.”

“Then you should’ve fucked him earlier, because I always love your stories,” Jonghyun said. He patted the side of Jinki’s thigh. “You want to get going? Because  I’d  like to get going.”

“Where to?” Taemin asked. The pub looked like it had rooms upstairs, but he didn’t know how either of them felt about using them.                    

“My ship’s best. You’ll get to see it, too. It’s gorgeous,” Jonghyun gloated. He snuck in a squeeze to Jinki’s ass when they stood. “Just got a new cannon.”

Taemin pulled his cloak back on and followed them towards the airship docks. By the time they reached the metal walkways that stuck out over the clouds, they were nearly on the opposite side of Valua from the palace. He’d never been this deep into the Lower City.

Most of the docked airships were decommissioned from the armada, made of steel in typical Valuan style. A few other styles, more likely belonging to traders than pirates, were interspersed throughout, but the ship Jonghyun pointed out—a large, wooden ship with three towering masts that stood proudly against the black clouds—was striking enough that Taemin couldn’t help but gape.

Despite its height, the ship was narrow, slimmer even than the smallest armada ships. They climbed up the gangplank and onto the deck. Jonghyun came up last and leapt onto the deck with his arms spread wide.

“Stylish, yeah? And faster than any hunk of metal.”

Jinki rolled his eyes as Taemin examined the ship. Any ptools for fighting or boarding ships were hidden in the crates or below deck, but rolled up against the main mast was a blue flag, barely concealed. Taemin had to wonder how  that  ever got past the massive gate and patrols that protected the Valua‘s airspace, but Jonghyun seemed capable of charming his way out of anything, and his mother specialized in robbing people right under their noses.

“It’s gorgeous,” Taemin said.

“The inside is a bit less glamorous, but you better not point that out to my face,” Jonghyun teased. He turned towards a set of stairs that appeared to lead down into the cabin and gestured for Taemin to follow. “Come on. I’ll show you to my space.”

The room Jonghyun led them to was long and wide. A dozen hammocks hung from the ceiling, likely enough for the whole crew, and the one at the back that Jonghyun showed him looked no different than any other.

Taemin blinked at it, caught off guard by its plainness. “I thought you were the captain. Don’t you have a room?”

“I am, and I do. But I prefer to sleep in a hammock sometimes. The bed folds away, and that makes room for more loot.”

Jinki raised a brow. “Uh-huh. And you refuse to have sex in the same place twice in a row.”

Jonghyun grinned. “That too. Used my bed a few days ago, so it’s time to fuck somewhere else.”

Jinki hummed, as if recalling the experience himself, and stepped closer to Jonghyun. As soon as he was within reach, Jonghyun grabbed a fistful of Jinki’s hair, tugging him down to an easier height to kiss.

Taemin froze, fists clenching in the fabric of his cloak when he caught a glimpse of Jinki’s tongue. Watching was new enough that he didn’t know what to do with himself. Jinki’s eyes fluttered open as he glanced back at Taemin. A wave of heat rolled through him when their gazes locked, then again when Jinki’s attention returned to Jonghyun, as if it was perfectly normal for them to have a witness to their kiss.  

For all Taemin knew, it could be.

The side of Jonghyun’s grin was just visible as he shifted his mouth to Jinki’s neck and nipped along the vein. With a soft swear, Jinki clutched at Jonghyun’s back, but shoved him away when Jonghyun began to unfasten his shirt.

“You aren’t getting me out of my clothes before we give Taemin some attention.”

Jonghyun tsked, but let his fingers fall from Jinki’s buttons. Taemin swallowed under the weight of their stares    . Jinki held out a hand, inviting him to where they stood, but Jonghyun closed the distance between them and kissed him—the same way he’d kissed Jinki, hands buried in his hair—before Taemin could take a single step.

He shivered and gripped back. His thumbs caught in the straps of Jonghyun’s eye patch, earning a laugh that gave him an opportunity to slip his tongue past Jonghyun’s lips. Jonghyun hummed, pleasantly surprised, and relaxed to let Taemin lead.

Taemin was too eager not to take advantage of the chance. He leaned in and kissed Jonghyun harder until he had no choice but to bend back and hold onto Taemin’s shirt for balance. The instant he eased off to breathe, Jonghuyn reached for his belt. The open air of the cabin brought goosebumps to his thighs when Jonghyun shoved down his breeches. Taemin helped him the rest of the way and stepped out of them, refusing to break the kiss a second time until Jonghyun smirked and turned his cheek.

“You think I wouldn’t be surprised by Valuan nobles being decent lovers after Jinki, and yet...”

Taemin scowled. “Why would you assume that makes me bad in bed?”

“Most of you don’t  do  much. But I suppose that leaves you plenty of time to get good at this.”

“If you thought I would be bad, why invite me?”

“Jinki likes you. You’re pretty.” Jonghyun shrugged. “And that sort of thing can always be taught.”

“I think the only thing I haven’t done is fuck two people at once,” Taemin said. When Jinki gave a skeptical snort beside them, Taemin sent a glare.

“I doubt you’re  that  worldly, your highness,” Jonghyun said. He squared his shoulders and worked Taemin’s shirt open button-by-button, as if mimicking a personal butler. “You’ve only slept with other Valuans, no? Technically your subjects?”

Taemin bit his lip. “Well...”

“I’m not judging.” Jonghyun shoved his shirt open. “Just doubt they’re willing to get too dirty with you. Rank can come with too much respect. When I was on my mother’s ship, it took ages for me to convince the crew I wasn’t too fragile to be bent over a barrel.”

Taemin’s ears burned. But the words rang true.

Every person he’d slept with had come onto him slowly, with flowery praise or teasing to test the waters, then treated him like he was breakable between the sheets once they were finally there. No matter how hard he gripped at their back in return or egged them on. They concentrated too much on pleasing him. And then after everything was done, there was the pillow talk which inevitably turned into requests for favors.

Once he realized that was how it always ended, Taemin had stopped letting anyone in his bed.

He could already tell Jonghyun would be different. Jinki would, too.

Taemin licked his lips and looked between them. “Well, what’re you planning to do to me?”

Jonghyun grinned and shoved him into the hammock. Taemin swung back. He tried to adjust to keep from barreling feet-first into Jonghyun as his weight returned him forward, but Jinki caught the fabric at the end of his arc and held him still.

Jonghyun’s fingers wrapped slowly over Jinki’s knuckles. He whispered something against Jinki’s cheek that made his eyes cloud with lust.

Their attention shifted down to where Taemin was suspended beneath them. Like this, there was no simple way for them to kiss him. Reaching his mouth or his hips with more than a hand or a cock would require kneeling, hunching over, or some other sort of contortion they had no reason to bother with.

Taemin had an idea of what they wanted.

He licked his lips and let his head hang back. The hammock swung slightly, then slowed into a smaller arc when Jinki grasped the rope tighter. Upside down like this, Taemin imagined he looked ridiculous, but there was no amusement in Jinki’s exhale—only anticipation.

Hands ran up his thighs. He lifted his head to see whose they were—Jonghyun’s—then followed with his eyes as Jinki circled around to the opposite side of the hammock, leaving only Jonghyun between his legs.

When he raised his head, he saw Jonghyun reach into his shirt and pulled free a small vial of oil. He pulled out the cork with his teeth and spat it away, then grinned down at Taemin as he coated his fingers.

“I have another if we need more. I always bring a few when we dock somewhere. You never know what might happen.”

Jonghyun’s hand returned to him, this time going straight for the innermost crease of his thighs. As Jonghyun circled towards his rim, he threw an arm over his mouth to muffle a moan. There was the simple pleasure of it, and the realization: the oil Jonghyun was using had been meant for Jinki that night, or vice versa. And now it was being used on  him .

“You can make noise, you know,” Jonghyun teased and pressed in. “That’s half the fun.”

Jinki drew Taemin’s arm away, fingers trailing along the vein of his wrist before shifting to card through his hair. Taemin leaned into the contact and reached up, pressing a palm around the outline of Jinki’s cock in his breeches just as Jonghyun added another finger. His motions were clumsy and distracted, but Jinki didn’t seem to mind—he cupped his hand over Taemin’s to guide it, before finally settling on holding it in place and thrusting against Taemin’s palm.

“You seem ready enough,” Jonghyun said. He spread his fingers, as if to prove how open Taemin was, and drew out a gasp. “Do you need more time?”

‘No,” Taemin’s eyes fluttered shut as Jonghyun brought his fingers back together and curved them. A patch of precome had leaked through Jinki’s breeches and dampened the heel of Taemin’s hand, adding to his desperation. “Please, I want this.”

Jonghyun grinned and gave him an encouraging smack to the thighs that sounded twice as loud as it stung. Taemin bit his lip, pulse pounding in his ears.

“Stay open for me.” Jonghyun slicked himself up, then hitched Taemin’s thighs up around his hips. When he shifted forward, his cock pushed between Taemin’s cheeks, missing his hole but lighting his nerves with anticipation. Jonghyun’s tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated, realigning them until Taemin felt pressure against his rim.

“There we go,” Jonghyun murmured and pushed forward, slow and unyielding.

Taemin’s nails scratched at the canvas of the hammock. Already, the stretch felt too good. He rocked forward, trying to bring Jonghyun deeper, but the motion hardly moved him at all—Jonghyun had bracketed his hips to keep him steady, and Jinki’s hold on the hammock’s rope was too firm. All Taemin could think of was how exposed he was and how little he could move.

By the time Jonghyun pulled back, Taemin was panting, overheated despite the lack of a body pressed against him. Without any ability to aid the motion, he felt the force of each thrust that much harder.

His cock throbbed, desperate for something,  anything,  but he held off from touching himself, too caught up in the idea of seeing how Jonghuyn and Jinki might use him to want to satisfy himself. Jinki maneuvered his own laces open with a single hand and kept the other on the knot of the hammock, steadying it as Jonghyun’s pace quickened.

Taemin turned his head and reached for the base of Jinki’s cock. At the awkward angle, the underside ran along his cheek, then bumped against his chin, leaving wetness behind until Jinki steered it directly into his mouth.

Jonghyun’s movements turned lazy, a tease that made Taemin whine even as he closed his lips around the head of Jinki’s cock and glanced back. Jonghyun’s complete attention was on them—on the stretch it took for Taemin’s mouth to fit around Jinki’s girth—distracting him more from his task.

“You sure you two can handle all this happening at once?” Jinki muttered, stroking himself to take over the motion Taemin hadn’t yet managed. “If it’s too much, we can take turns.”

Jonghyun huffed. “I’m not going to apologize for taking my time and enjoying the show.”

With an apologetic hum, Taemin tugged on Jinki’s hips to beckon him deeper. Their eyes met only briefly before Jinki ran a thumb along the edge of Taemin’s tipped-back jaw and tilted his head back further, creating an easy path for his cock to slide over Taemin’s tongue into the start of his throat.

Taemin blinked hard, eyes wet as he fought back a gag, but curled his fingers in the loosened waist of Jinki’s breeches and took him further the next time Jinki fucked into his mouth. Suspended between them as he was, it was easier to let Jinki drive the pace than try and guide it himself.

Encouraged, Jinki shifted one hand into his hair and kept another on his chin, holding Taemin steady through every thrust to better complete his own. Jonghyun’s fingernails dug into Taemin’s thighs as he lost rhythm, alternating between slow and fast before finally halting.

He pressed against Taemin with a small curse, keeping him close through every throb, before finally jerking back. Taemin whimpered as Jonghyun’s cock slipped free, then again when he heard the rustle and clink of Jonghyun tugging up his breeches and refastening his belt. He kept his legs open—he didn’t know how to close them, with such a mess of come and oil between them—and he was hopeful Jonghyun would give him something more.

Jonghyun shifted Taemin’s knees to stand beside him. Taemin watched from the corner of his eye as Jonghyun reached down and ran a single finger along the underside of Taemin’s cock. He gasped at the contact, hips jolting up as he snapped out of the daze he’d fallen into from taking both of them. All he wanted to do was give himself over until they’d had their fill of pleasure, but if Jonghyun granting him pleasure was part of that, he would take it gladly.

Jonghyun traced up his cock again, this time with two fingers. “I can’t believe you’re this hard—I don’t think we’ve even touched you here once. What if we keep you like this until you make Jinki come?”

Unable to speak with Jinki in his mouth, a moan and a full swallow around JInki’s cock was the only way to beg for his own release. Jinki cursed and tightened his fingers against Taemin’s scalp.

“He really wants to come,” Jinki said. “You’re making him work harder.”

Taemin hummed an agreement. Jonghyun took hold of his cock in response, lifting it from where it hovered hard and ignored over his stomach to stroke him smoothly. The short motion was barely anything, but it was enough to bring Taemin close. He shifted his hips, uncertain of whether to pull away before his release or simply let it happen, but Jonghyun didn’t allow either. He stopped just before Taemin’s pleasure reached its crest, producing a groan that made Jinki’s hips stutter. Jinki continued to fuck into his mouth, and again and again, Jonghyun stopped before he could come. Each time he neared his release, Jonghyun’s hand would loosen, and Taemin’s need would grow.

When Jinki finally cursed out a warning, Jonghyun’s grip on Taemin tightened and quickened. Taemin’s muscles tensed, back rising into an arch, but his mouth slackened just enough to let Jinks cock fall free. Come streaked across his lips and cheeks, then into his open mouth. Jinki stroked himself to the end, every movement loud and wet, and nudged his cockhead past Taemin’s lips to shoot the last of his release onto his tongue.

The cabin was silent, save Jinki and Taemin’s rough breathing.

He closed his eyes with a small sigh, letting his head hang upside down as the pleasant warmth of his aftermath rolled through him. When he felt the mess on his chin start to drip down his cheeks, he raised a hand and clenched his fingers in the universal gesture for something to clean with. Jinki passed him a handkerchief and helped him wipe down his face, then balled the cloth into his fist and tossed it aside.

With Jinki’s help, he sat up in the hammock. Jonghyun pulled another rag from somewhere and cleaned his stomach, grinning through the task.

“I assume this means we’re done for the night.”

Taemin nodded. He was tired, and his throat and thighs were sore to a level he was certain he’d feel in the morning.

“I was hoping Jinki wouldn’t clean you up so quickly. It would’ve been nice to take a mental image of what you look like with him on you.”

Taemin gave a breathless laugh. “I wasn’t sure how to get myself up, and I didn’t want anything to get into my eyes.”

“Fair. If you want protection, a blindfold would help next time.”

“How is it you always want to talk  more about sex right after we’re done? Haven’t you had your fill?” Jinki complained, though his expression was fond.

“If something’s fun one way, I want to do it again and find other ways of making it fun. Don’t you?”

Jinki grumbled an agreement and leaned around Taemin to kiss Jonghyun. Taemin watched them linger, then pull apart, heart tight in his chest. As brief as their kiss had been, Jinki’s eyes were warm from it, and something about the sight sobered Taemin.

Taemin wasn’t jealous. Or at least the word seemed too simple and petty to fit. He didn’t want to take Jinki’s place. He didn’t want to take Jonghyun’s place. He was happy they had each other. The ache in his chest was because he’d never had anything like they shared, and with where his life was headed, he couldn’t imagine he ever would.

He startled when Jinki dropped a blanket over him. Jinki helped fit it over his shoulders. “If you’re not going to get dressed, you should put this on. It’s colder out here on the airships.”

“Thanks.” Taemin wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. He didn’t want to get dressed yet, if only because the clothes he’d stolen would remind him of the palace.

Jonghyun looked between them with a small smile before fixing his gaze on Taemin. “You’re welcome to linger for a while. You want some more to drink?”

“Sure,” Taemin agreed. Jonghyun patted Taemin’s knee and spun on his heel, then disappeared down a set of stairs that led deeper into the airship.

Jinki and Taemin watched him go. Once his footsteps faded, Jinki crouched beside him.

“This is why I started pulling away, you know,” he whispered. “I worried what would happen if you found out about Jonghyun. You’re getting closer and closer to the throne, and I...haven’t known how to deal with that. Never letting either of you meet seemed like the best way to keep him safe.” His eyes crinkled, the old tell Taemin remembered that came with any confession that made him feel guilty. ”If it’s worth anything, I’ve missed you too.”

“It’s worth a lot,” Taemin said. He reached for Jinki’s hand and squeezed it, then looked to where Jonghyun had disappeared. “What is he to you?”

”Everything, anymore,” Jinki said without hesitation. “I’m going to leave Valua with him someday.”

Taemin’s stomach dropped. “And do what? When?”

“Pirate stuff, I suppose,” Jinki teased. “There’s so much of the sky that hasn’t been charted. He wants to discover as much as he can, once his ships outfitted for stronger currents. I want to be with him for every one.”

Taemin inhaled. “What about your family? And Valua?”

“You know how I feel about our country.”

Taemin’s stomach panted. “And you don’t think I’ll change anything when I’m in charge.”

Jinki winced. “It’s not that I think you have the wrong ideals. But I’m sure you know the problems you’ll bump up against. How much say does your mother have, compared to the armada? She gets to decide how things are run  here , but it’s not like we stay in our borders, or like they wouldn’t challenge her if she did something they were opposed to.”

“I know, but...” Taemin reached for a counterpoint, but found nothing. There was no argument to refute Jinki’s words when he’d noticed the same thing.

He hung his head. Was that why he’d been so mad at Jinki? Selfish as it was, it was easier to think of the personal problems that came with the throne—losing friendships, not knowing who to trust—than the responsibilities he’d bear just sitting on it.

“ Please tell me you’re not talking politics, Jinki,” Jonghyun whined, loud enough to be heard up the stairs. He sauntered between them and passed Jinki a handle of rum, then threw himself into the hammock beside Taemin. “I can’t imagine a poorer time for it. It was our first time with a third, too. You should be a little sentimental.”

“I was only explaining why I’m going to leave with you, since Taemin asked,” Jinki said. He took a swig, then held it out to Taemin. “It’s not as if I’m getting philosophical.”

Jonghyun quirked a brow. “I think after how I fucked him tonight, he knows why you’re leaving.”

“It’s alright, really.” Taemin managed to smile for them, but it faltered when he brought the bottle to his lips. He tipped it back, squeezing his eyes against the burn, and swallowed back as much as he could take.

His mother was alive, and Jinki was still here. As prince, he was only an ear until fate decided to shove the empire into his lap. He had time to enjoy himself before he had to worry. And damned if he wasn’t going to soak up every second of it.

When he went for a second drink, Jonghyun pried the bottle from him. “Slow down, your highness. I can’t let you stay here tonight. As nice as it’d be to beat my mother’s record for bounties, I’d rather do it the old fashion way than be accused of kidnapping the prince.”

Taemin laughed. “And you’re not worried that’ll happen when you take Jinki?”

“Not at all. We’ve had a plan for a while.”

“Oh,” Taemin said. “Well, good luck to you both.”

Jonghyun raised the bottle to him in thanks. Jinki cast his eyes down and reached to take the rum, but Jonghyun refused to hand it over until Jinki gave him a kiss. Taemin watched, stomach in knots, as the guilt that twisted Jinki’s mouth melted into an unfettered smile.

Taemin didn’t want to ask if Jinki would have left without saying anything. Judging by the distance Jinki had forced between them, he imagined that had been the plan. And judging by the warmth that seeped into Jinki’s eyes every time he looked Jonghyun’s way, nothing would come between Jinki and leaving Valua.