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Yoongi fucking despises going to the palace.
Ever since he moved out, he only comes here when he has to. Partly he feels bad about it because his mother remains a prisoner inside her own home while he escaped, even if his new home isn't actually far. If he could, he would rescue her and take her away from that place, but his father would never let that happen, of course. He loves to keep a close eye on all his wives, to torture them, to hurt them, to make them feel small and powerless under his rule. That’s his favorite hobby, after all.
The last thing he wants to do is to take Hoseok to the royal palace, but it’s not as though he can say no. The news of their wedding got people excited and no doubt the nobility wants to feast their eyes on the human prince. Under normal circumstances, Yoongi would make excuses and find something to keep himself busy, so he wouldn’t need to attend it. It’s so much harder with Hoseok around — to keep an eye on him all the time and to prevent the king from messing with his head is an arduous task, especially because he doesn’t want to agitate Hoseok any further.
He is aware that so far, he has done nothing but upset Hoseok, and despite his efforts, the king succeeded getting into his husband's head effortlessly.
As he leads Hoseok down the hallway into one room after another, each of them already filled with guests, Hoseok is, or at least seems, more calm than he was before. Yoongi tries to ground himself in him, use him as a calming agent. Hoseok is calm, so he has to appear that way too.
He focuses his gaze on the king sitting at his table, surrounded by his wives. Instinctively, he checks on each of them and notices that the fourth wife whose long, flowy hair previously almost reached her thighs is now cut short to chin-length. Yoongi’s stomach lurches, bile rising in his throat. He wonders what she did to deserve that: did she not smile perfectly, or did she say no to him?
Letting go of Hoseok’s hand, he bows to the king, biting his tongue. He grabs Hoseok’s hand to lead them to their place at the table. He tries to not be too obvious that he’s moving faster than usual, but he doesn’t want the king’s eyes lingering on Hoseok for too long. It’s not safe and it would never end well.
Yoongi adjusts his clothes as he sits down, doing his best to seem at ease and comfortable. These balls and dinner parties have never ended well for him. Even when he wasn’t looking for trouble, even when he wasn’t picking fights, he just ended up getting punished for one reason or another.
The sound of wood scraping against the floor fills the room and suddenly everyone quiets down. People who have been previously standing start to walk over to their seats.
“Winter has arrived, and it bought us a new allegiance,” the king says, his voice booming loudly and confidently. There’s always a hint of something fake in his tone, like he puts on an act every time he makes a speech. It makes Yoongi's skin crawl. “Today we not only celebrate the change of the season but Prince Yoongi and Prince Hoseok’s marriage too. May the nights be long!”
”May the nights be long,” Yoongi mutters, rolling his eyes softly. As though the king cares about them or their marriage… He just sees Hoseok as a useful tool to rein him in. Yoongi is well-aware of that. He doesn’t really care, not like a father should.
The food gets bought out, and they eat in silence. He feels Hoseok’s eyes flicking over him a few times, but he doesn’t say anything. Yoongi doesn’t say anything either. He knows Hoseok wouldn’t start a fight with him here, but even a tense conversation could carry consequences. He’s not oblivious that people are stealing curious glances at his husband. As far as Yoongi knows, both Hoseok and his sister are loved in their own kingdom, so he wants Hoseok to be liked here as well. Keeping his mouth shut is the best course of action to not accidentally paint his husband in a terrible light.
It will be easier to rule with Hoseok by his side if his people are fond of him, of their union.
The hard part of the night is not the dinner, but what comes after that — the traditional public scenting. He’s only half worried that Hoseok will kick him in the shin for not warning him beforehand, but he can always apologize later. He sees Hoseok notice the mood changing in the room as the scenting begins. His eyes bulge from shock and suddenly Yoongi has the urge to smile.
He feels himself softening up as he whispers, “Don’t look at them. Look at me.” Hoseok turns, surprise coloring all his features. “Play along, okay?”
As soon as Hoseok nods, Yoongi gently takes his wrist, positions his arm to be on top of the table, and pushes his sleeve up just enough to expose where his scent gland would be on his wrist.
His wolf perks up the second his nose touches the delicate inside part of Hoseok’s wrist.
“What’s going on? You didn’t mention this,” Hoseok frowns. There is an edge to his voice, but it’s barely there, almost soft.
“Just showing affection,” Yoongi says quietly before pressing a kiss to his husband’s wrist, closing his eyes and inhaling. He can’t help but grow attached to this scent that’s sticking to Hoseok. It smells natural, almost sweet and a bit musky. He can’t truly capture with words how Hoseok smells like to him; he just knows that he loves it and so does his wolf, who now feels like liquid happiness inside his chest. “I refrained from describing this earlier because I thought it might scare you.”
“I’m not scared,” Hoseok says, and in his mind, Yoongi can partially see the glare that his husband is giving him. He opens his eyes slowly and tries to not smile too wide because the picture inside his head and Hoseok’s actual expression lines up so well.
“Then you need to stop glaring at me,” Yoongi points out, amused.
”I’m not glaring at you,” Hoseok insists, then averts his gaze. “This is just a little strange.”
“Is it really strange, or do you just think it’s weird because you have to do this with me?” Yoongi asks, knowing that the answer will hurt him, but he’s used to hurtful words. He is just curious about what Hoseok is thinking right now.
Hoseok slides closer on the bench and Yoongi almost drops his wrist when his husband tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, slowly lingering, as though he doesn’t want to stop touching him.
“Because it’s you,” Hoseok smiles softly, lovingly despite his words, and Yoongi’s heart trips over its own rhythm and his wolf pathetically starts yearning for Hoseok harder. Yoongi stares at him, at his pretty features, soft eyes and heart-shaped lips and admits to himself for the first time that he’s going to fall in love with Hoseok. Soon. In the near future. His chest aches with the realization.
His wolf starts yearning even harder, sending a jolt through his entire body. Yoongi rubs his chest to try to make the uncomfortable sensation go away.
“You’re so mean to me,” Yoongi complains, pouting dramatically and lifting his hand in the air between them invitingly. He expected Hoseok to hesitate, but he’s wrong because the younger presses his palm to his and his gaze doesn’t move away. Hoseok’s skin feels slightly cooler than it should be compared to his own, as it always is, and his fingers are… slender and pretty, Yoongi has no other words to describe them. Hoseok doesn’t look weak in any sense, Yoongi most definitely noticed the noticeable curve of his biceps, the solid shape of his shoulders, but there is something undeniably soft about him. He is a prince through and through, not meant to do hard labor in his lifetime. “People should know how mean you can be. It’s not very classy to insult your husband while other people are drinking to honor our marriage.”
“I’m not mean,” Hoseok shakes his head adamantly, but he’s smiling like this is a fun little game just between them. A protectiveness stirs in Yoongi’s chest, wanting to protect that smile and his wolf agrees vehemently. He grasps Hoseok’s hands, sliding his thumb across the middle of his palm, covering his fingers and fighting the urge to lean down and press a kiss to each of his fingertips just to see what kind of frown Hoseok would give him if he dared to be so bold.
“You are mean to me,” Yoongi says, and bites back the rest of the sentence. He swallows down the bit about how he sort of likes that about him. Even though he wishes that they could work together and not dance on the edge of a knife every time they converse, he doesn’t hate that fiery look that Hoseok gives him. It all just tugs at something warm inside his gut, making his skin burn.
“Okay, I am mean to you. So what?” Hoseok says, very much like a brat, and presses his cheek against his wrist like a cat asking for pets or forgiveness. Yoongi can’t help but smile wider at that. His husband's words are so contrary to what he's doing in this moment. It's borderline hilarious.
“Nothing. As I said, it’s fine by me,” Yoongi shrugs, and seemingly Hoseok doesn’t seem to like that answer for some reason. He doesn’t stop his attempt to scent him, but he gazes at Yoongi with disappointment.
“I’m sure it is.”
Feeling emboldened by the look in his husband’s eyes, Yoongi pulls his hand close to him again, purposefully lowering his voice into a soft purr as he says, “Besides I like the way you bark at me, puppy prince. It turns me on.”
He kisses Hoseok’s fingers, lingering there for added effect and hungry for a reaction. Hoseok’s jaw drops and his eyes grow bigger than Yoongi has ever seen them; he is so shocked, and yet, he’s not pulling his hand away from his mouth, nor shooting out of his chair. It gives Yoongi the false sense of hope that maybe one day Hoseok could fall in love with him as well. He wants to push his luck so badly, to lean closer and press his lips to his husband’s nose or maybe his cheek, but a hand clamps down on his shoulder and all the good mood drains from his body. The hand doesn’t feel as big as his father, so instinctively he knows it’s Dohyun. He looks up to check, anyway.
“Dohyun,” Yoongi grits through his teeth, dropping Hoseok’s hand. He was hoping to avoid all this tonight. So far, he hasn’t even done anything to provoke his father, and it seems he has done something, anyway.
“I need you to come with me, Prince Yoon. The king wishes to speak with you,” Dohyun replies in a stern voice, but there is a tone of amusement mixed with it, as though he’s laughing at him in his mind.
For a brief second, Yoongi debates grabbing Hoseok and running, but the hand on his shoulder tightens, and he knows it’s a bad idea. He would just place Hoseok in harm’s way.
“Is it important? We were about to go dancing,” Yoongi says, trying to find an excuse to evade the talk with his father.
“It is important,” Dohyun says. Expected, but it’s still disappointing. Yoongi turns his head, catching Jimin’s gaze from the distance and nods curtly, a silent request for his friend to look after Hoseok while he’s gone. Jimin nods back at him.
“Stay here until I get back, okay?” He looks at Hoseok for a brief second before he stands to follow Dohyun before Hoseok could say anything more. His heart is beating fast, but he feels the rest of his body go numb, unfeeling, as he mentally prepares himself for what’s about to come.
He walks up the stairs behind Dohyun, who leads him to the door on the right side of the room. Dohyun opens it with a smug smile and nods with his head to go ahead. They have been doing this for too long and they all know what’s coming. It feels worse to see that Dohyun gets enjoyment out of this as much as his father does. Yoongi tells himself that Dohyun’s going to receive a punishment he won’t come back from once he takes the throne, but he’s been calming himself with that thought for years now. The throne and the crown that his father does not wear still feel too far away.
Stepping into the corridor, he walks and passes doors on his left until he reaches the very end of it and where his father likes to do his more unseemly business. The king sits in a chair with two of his guards behind him when Yoongi steps inside. He keeps his gaze on his father as he stops in front of him, putting his hands behind him. He decides that he won’t react rashly or give him more reason to keep a closer eye on them.
The king looks almost bored when he stands and asks, “Why isn’t your husband mated yet?”
Cold spikes of fear impale his stomach, but Yoongi tries to not react. So his father realized that he hasn’t done what’s expected of him so far. He should’ve done it on their honeymoon, but Hoseok looked so scared and the more days passed, the more certain Yoongi became that he won’t do it unless Hoseok asks him to wholeheartedly.
“I wasn’t aware that there is a time limit tied to mating my husband,” Yoongi says calmly, and the king’s hand comes down on the side of his face with a force that staggers him, his ear ringing in a high-pitched tone. The room fills with a powerful scent that his mother always described as almond, but to Yoongi, it has always smelled like bitter almond, like cyanide. Before he could reorient himself, the king grabs him by the jaw and Yoongi bites down on his tongue to keep himself from lashing out, his nails sinking into his own palms. He thinks of Hoseok, and the way he nuzzled his wrist.
“Do not get smart with me, Yoongi,” the king growls, his voice filling the small room quickly just like his scent. Yoongi can practically feel his wolf sticking his ears up, almost baring his teeth at the tone. “You mate the human prince willingly yourself, or I can force you to do it. Shall I arrange a special ball for it and make you do it in front of my people like they used to do in the old times? Shall I make your human husband undress in front of everyone so people could see your bloody mark on his pretty skin? Is that what you want?”
Nausea coils in Yoongi’s stomach, saliva flooding his mouth at the thought of Hoseok standing in the middle of the ballroom naked. He knows why this is so important to the king. He knows that his father hopes for a bond between them, so he could reel him in with Hoseok’s pain. In the past, his father could never truly beat him down no matter what he did, and for once, Yoongi fears that he found something that might work in his favor.
“No,” Yoongi grits, and he thinks of Hoseok, and the way he looked at him when he kissed his fingers. He doesn’t fight back.
“Then be a good crown prince and do your duty,” the king glowers, and pushes Yoongi back, releasing him. “I do not care whether you do it consensually or do it by force, but you must do it. This is the last time that I’m being nice to you, you understand? I’ll give you grace since I made you marry their despicable kind, and you went along with it nicely, but I’m running out of patience, boy.”
“I understand,” Yoongi says placidly, even though his wolf is anything but calm. The wolf is so anxious and wishes to be near Hoseok at once. To protect him. To take him far away from here. He adds another lie, “I will do it.”
“Good,” the king sighs, adjusting his clothes and the scent of bitter almonds ebbing away. “If I see you parading your husband around without your mark one more time—”
“I understand,” Yoongi interjects, and the king almost looks pleased at getting interrupted. “The next time you see him, he’ll be my mate, and not just in the human sense of the word.”
“Go and tell him then.” The king sits back and smiles in a way that irks Yoongi. “I hope it won’t ruin his evening. After all, he already doesn’t seem to be too fond of you, does he?”
The words puncture his skin, stinging much harder than the slap, and for a second, Yoongi loses his breath again. Immediately, he averts his gaze to try to hide how much that hurt, how exposed he truly is when it comes to Hoseok. He does half a nod and then walks out of the room without another word. He can’t react, not the way he would want to.
He thinks of Hoseok, and then the whispers of the rebellion. They must find them somehow.
His legs almost give out when he exits the passageway and Hoseok is no longer at the table, but Jimin is. His blood is almost boiling in his veins when he marches to Jimin, who is leaning against the wall leisurely.
“Where is he?” Yoongi asks, grabbing his friend’s biceps, but Jimin looks at him as though he doesn’t even hear him.
“What did he do? Did he hit you? Your face is so red and your paint is smeared,” Jimin whispers quietly, his words almost slurring. “What did he want? Is it—”
“Jimin, where is Hoseok?” Yoongi interrupts, all the dangerous scenarios running through his mind. “Dohyun didn’t come in if he—”
“—he won’t. Jungkook is keeping an eye on him and Dohyun is monitoring the ballroom,” Jimin says with a frown, and Yoongi catches a whiff of his friend’s scent flowing calmly so as to soothe him, but Yoongi rips himself away from him and starts walking. He doesn't want Jimin's comfort. He wants to see Hoseok.
“I told you to keep an eye on him,” Yoongi says, pursing his lips, knowing that Jimin will follow him no matter what.
“I don’t care. I care about you,” Jimin insists, and Yoongi glares at him, his jaw tight and the muscles in his body taut to an uncomfortable, painful degree.
“If you care about me, then you should start caring about him as well. It was an order, Jimin,” Yoongi says, his voice pained. He doesn’t order Jimin around, not the way the nobility would order their servants around. They have always blurred the line between friendship and duty, but now Yoongi is married and Hoseok has no idea what’s going on around here. He needs protection from Yoongi and from Jimin as well.
Jimin opens his mouth, then closes his mouth tentatively, as though the situation is only now sinking in. Then, in a quieter voice, he says, “The last I saw, Hoseok was sneaking out to the garden a couple of minutes ago. I was… keeping an eye on him, too.”
Yoongi turns into the direction of the door that by a step leads them right out in the chilly night. Even with the knowledge that Hoseok is most likely fine, he can’t seem to get a hold of his anger. If anything, it spikes again when they walk forward and he spots Hoseok approaching the fountain that sits in the middle of the garden.
The memories of Dohyun pushing his head under the water repeatedly floods his mind and his lungs burn the same way they did when he was almost drowned. He was just eighteen then, and he hasn’t been back in the garden since. He can’t even remember why he was being punished. Jimin gasps and starts running to stop Hoseok from reaching the fountain. He stops right in front of Hoseok.
“Hoseok,” Jimin warns, holding his arms out to stop him from from approaching. Yoongi catches up quickly, grabbing Hoseok by the elbow to turn him around. His wolf sighs in relief to see that he’s alright, but Yoongi is still burning with anger because Hoseok isn’t even wearing a coat. His skin feels as cold as a corpse’s and his cheeks are red, flushed from alcohol, most likely.
“What are you doing?” Yoongi snaps, unable to hold back his anger. “Are you drunk? Gods, you have to be kidding me, Hoseok.”
Hoseok blinks at him as though he thinks he did nothing wrong. “What? I was just looking around. I’m only a little tipsy.”
“Do you remember what I asked you?” Yoongi feels his face distort from all the emotions that he feels. His mind uselessly supplies him with images of Dohyun drowning Hoseok in the same fountain, looking back at him with a smug smile.
“Of course, I remember,” Hoseok says sharply, and tears his arm from his grasp. “Am I supposed to be a statue and not move from my spot? You left a long time ago.”
Yoongi exhales harshly, his head snapping towards Jimin. “Can you please get Seokjin?”
“Okay,” Jimin says simply and leaves quickly, returning to the palace and leaving them alone in the cold.
“Why are you calling Seokjin?” Hoseok asks, folding his arms across his chest. He looks pouty, like a child who’s been wronged, and Yoongi wants to laugh bitterly until he chokes on air.
“I asked one thing from you.” He takes a step closer to him, staring deep into Hoseok’s eyes. “It’s unbelievable how spoiled you are. Is it really that hard to listen to me for once?”
“One thing? You keep asking for more and more,” Hoseok shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m not your toy to order around, and I’m not spoiled, either. I’m a person with free will and thoughts and emotions.”
“So am I. When I ask you something—” His wolf whines softly as though he’s trying to convince him to go easier on Hoseok. He feels himself soften just a bit because of his pathetic dumb wolf, who seems to enjoy being imprinted on Hoseok way too much. Jimin and Seokjin emerge finally, with a coat. “Go home, Hoseok.”
Hoseok looks taken aback by that. “What?”
Realizing that the two of them have nothing more to say to each other, he turns to Seokjin and says, “I need you to take him home.”
“I can do that,” Seokjin agrees despite his obvious confusion about what’s happening, and goes to put the coat on Hoseok.
“What about you?” Hoseok asks from behind him. “Aren’t you coming home?”
Yoongi feels so tired, almost lifeless, when he looks at Hoseok again. His husband’s eyes seem to be filled with nothing but stars and contempt for him. He reminds himself that Hoseok is nothing but a shiny dagger that his father wishes to point right at his heart to torture him with. He is letting the king win by letting his wolf foster deeper feelings for Hoseok, by purely looking at Hoseok and letting himself see a person who he could love completely.
Hoseok isn’t here to love him. By design, he is here to hurt him.
Without another word, he turns around and goes inside with Jimin as his second shadow. He is in no mood for parties or dancing anymore. He’s not even really in the mood to go back to the house he calls home because Hoseok is there and he’ll always be there. A hand gently taps him once they are inside.
“Yoongi,” Jimin says his name with unease.
“Can you do one more thing for me?” Yoongi asks as he walks into a corridor free of guests and festivities. He needs to cool down for a while and rethink everything. He needs some time alone.
“Of course,” Jimin says at once.
“Can you bring a drink up to my room?” It’s rare for him to visit his childhood bedroom, but he feels like there’s nowhere else to go right now. “In fact, bring an entire bottle. You know what I like.”
“Sure. Would you like me to fetch your mother as well?” Jimin’s question is well-intentioned, sweet even, but the last thing that Yoongi wants is to involve his mother in his problems. She has more than enough already.
“No, thank you. I’d like to be alone,” Yoongi says, and slows down the pace, glancing at Jimin. “And I’m… sorry for getting so upset. It’s so—”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Jimin gives him an understanding smile. “I know. I’ll get you your drink.”
“Thank you,” Yoongi says, feeling so grateful for Jimin’s friendship.
To this very day, he’s never been so happy that he almost got robbed by his friend. Life is funny sometimes, and it’s definitely better with Jimin in it.
What a disastrous day this is!
First, his father notices that Hoseok is not wearing his bite mark on his shoulder and threatens him, then Hoseok disappears without a word and they have a fight in the palace garden. The only thing that helped after that is a bottle of alcohol that he drank all alone in his childhood bedroom while wondering about useless things.
Now, he wanders into his bedroom, discarding his socks and pants along the way before he sits down at the edge of the bed, humming the lullaby his mother used to sing to him. With clumsy fingers he unbuttons his shirt one by one, growing a little agitated as one of them keeps slipping from his grasp somehow. He starts to shrug it off when a voice suddenly comes from behind him.
“What are you doing here?”
Yoongi looks behind himself and his eyes focus on the man already laying in his bed. His face is unreadable but so, so beautiful. He could be an angel from Yoongi’s dream, coming to save him from the harsh reality of his life. His brain slowly catches up with what he sees and — It’s Hoseok.
Hoseok is in his bed? Why? Hoseok hates him, so why was he sleeping in Yoongi’s bed? He doesn’t understand it in the slightest.
“Wha–why are you in my room?” Yoongi frowns, his shirt slips from his shoulder and tosses it aside.
“This is my room,” Hoseok answers fiercely. Yoongi turns his entire body toward him, wobbling slightly. Hoseok’s words captivate him so much; he can’t concentrate on anything else other than his husband. “Your room is across mine, Yoongi. Are you drunk?”
Because of his great attention to every word that left Hoseok’s mouth, Yoongi looks around with a smile as he realizes that Hoseok is right. They changed rooms when they arrived back from their sorry excuse of a honeymoon. Yoongi himself told Jimin to prepare this room for Hoseok because his alpha was relentlessly whining about making sure his scent surrounded Hoseok when he sleeps. Yoongi, of course, is well-aware of the fact that Hoseok is a human who can’t smell his scent in this room. His wolf was hoping that it would calm Hoseok down, that he would grow to love it and search for the source in the crock of his neck. It doesn’t work like that, though, and it never will.
His wolf beams with happiness at the sight of Hoseok in his bed now. He emits the delusional thought that Hoseok looks like he was sleeping comfortably towards Yoongi. He can’t help but let out a chuckle, hand pressed to his forehead. His wolf is about as stubborn about his delusions as Hoseok is about hating him. Neither of them ever wants to listen to Yoongi.
“Gods, I’m so stupid,” Yoongi whispers to himself. He looks around again, in search of his clothes. He can see his shirt but not his pants or socks. Defeated, he adds, “I forgot about the room change. I don’t know where I threw my pants or my socks. I think I lost them.”
He’s not drunk enough to not realize that he must be making Hoseok very uncomfortable just by being in the same room nearly naked, and the last thing that he wants is to make Hoseok dislike him more, so he turns away and gets off the bed. He must’ve stood up too fast because his vision warps and in the next second, he’s sitting on the bed again. Another laugh burst out of him because he must be such an embarrassing sight to Hoseok.
“You’re not going to throw up, are you?” Hoseok asks suddenly. It’s an unexpected question but Yoongi realizes that they don’t know each other, therefore Hoseok has no idea that he never drinks enough to make himself sick.
Yoongi turns towards him. “Hm? No, I’m just a bit wobbly.”
Hoseok blinks once and then twice before he slowly says, “You can stay here for tonight. If you like.”
“Really?” That’s even more surprising. Yoongi stares at him, waiting for Hoseok to say that he is joking, or that he doesn’t really mean it, but Hoseok’s expression looks serious.
“Just for tonight,” Hoseok nods. He turns away and lays back on his side, facing away. Yoongi keeps staring at him for a moment longer before excitement rushes through his body and he eagerly climbs under the blanket and erases any distance between their bodies.
His wolf wags his tail in excitement as Yoongi wraps his arm around Hoseok’s waist, pulling him close and pressing his nose against the back of his neck. Hoseok’s scent fills Yoongi’s lungs and he can’t stop himself from letting out an appreciative hum.
Gods, Hoseok just smell so fucking good. Nobody warned Yoongi about this. He assumed that Hoseok would have no smell because that made sense to him, but when he first scented him at the end of their honeymoon, he had to bite down on his tongue to stop the moan from slipping out of his mouth.
Every single time he scents Hoseok, he has to bite down on his tongue and restrain himself from doing more than the tamest version of a scenting. He doesn’t want to make Hoseok more wary of him, so he tries his best to keep his reactions to himself. Maybe one day he could off-handedly compliment Hoseok without coming across as strange, but that day is definitely not today.
Yoongi is just happy to be allowed to spend the night with Hoseok.
“I had a plushie when I was a child,” Yoongi says without thinking. “A puppy with a crown. A puppy prince. My father took it from me one day because I was a bad boy. It’s all fine now, though, because I have another puppy prince.” Yoongi chuckles to himself because what he has in his arm is a thousand times better than any stuffed animal that he played with as a child. “I’m being such a bad boy. Will you punish me too?”
It happens so fast. One second he’s cuddling Hoseok and in the next he’s on his back with a hand around his neck, Hoseok’s figure looming above him. Yoongi stares up at him in awe, slack jawed. The moon illuminates the side of Hoseok’s face and Yoongi can’t stop thinking about how beautiful he looks. His eyes are shining with so many emotions and Yoongi wonders how he is meant to not fall in love with him? How is he supposed to stop himself from doing that? Hoseok looks like he was touched by the moon and delivered just for Yoongi to love.
“Shut up,” Hoseok snaps, and Yoongi blinks at him curiously. His words don’t pack the usual punch. Hoseok’s hold on his neck is too soft to be threatening. “Just shut up and go to sleep. I don’t want to talk.”
Yoongi’s wolf whines deep within his chest, begging him to start purring to ease his husband’s pain but Yoongi pushes him away, as always. Hoseok doesn’t want his purrs or his comfort. That much is clear.
Hoseok’s eyes drop down then his face twitches in horror before he pulls away and lays back down in his previous spot. Hoseok didn’t tell him that he can’t cuddle him, so Yoongi glues himself against his back once more, pressing his cheek against Hoseok’s back.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, even though he isn’t really sorry. He doesn’t think he did anything wrong by just speaking. Still, he apologizes since Hoseok seems to have been angry at something.
His wolf stops the whining as soon as Hoseok is in his arms again and instead starts boasting about Hoseok being theirs, and this time, Yoongi agrees with a smile. It’s okay if Hoseok is angry and argues with him, Hoseok is still his. Hoseok will always be his.
Before he falls asleep, he notes that Hoseok feels a bit cold in his embrace, but that’s okay too, Yoongi will warm him up by morning.
Yoongi wakes up when he feels the mattress dipping with an additional weight next to him, then a different weight is placed on his chest, not heavier than two cats. Even before he opens his eyes, a smile quickly runs across his features. He knows exactly who the weight on his chest is.
“Say, good morning, appa,” Hoseok sings quietly, and Yoongi slowly cracks his eyes open, his vision adjusting to the light in the room and smiling slightly wider when he takes in his daughter’s round, happy little face. Hoseok sits on the edge of the bed, his hands on both sides of her, making sure that Sarang doesn’t roll off Yoongi.
“Good morning, you two,” Yoongi murmurs, wrapping his arms around Sarang, who grabs onto his shirt with her tiny hands.
“Sorry, I wanted to let you sleep longer, but she really wanted to see you,” Hoseok tells him apologetically as he lays down next to him, leaning his head on Yoongi’s shoulder.
“Is that so? How do you know?” Yoongi asks, amused. “It’s not as though she can tell you.”
“She is very smart, and she has ways to let you know what she needs,” Hoseok explains.
He is the one who spends the most time with their daughter, even though he is not with her the whole day either. At first, Hoseok insisted that he didn’t want to change too much about his workload, but eventually he did pass some of his responsibilities to others once Sarang arrived. Yoongi thought some of those tasks really did not require Hoseok’s attention at all, so he was happy to see that he gave himself more free time, which became Sarang-time. The nannies take good care of her when they both are busy too.
Hoseok presses a kiss to his jaw and says, “I also just happen to know what it’s like to miss you, so I can recognize that feeling on her face.”
“Oh, really?” Yoongi turns to him and captures his lips in a lingering kiss. “Good morning, my love. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, baby,” Hoseok hums, eyelids heavy and gaze full of love. It almost hurts to turn away.
“Hello, little love,” he greets Sarang as well, not wanting her to feel left out. He gently strokes her chubby cheeks, and she grins at him, almost entirely toothless. “Oh, look at your three little teeth. Am I seeing correctly that a fourth is coming? What a ferocious beast.”
“You joke but she clamped down on my finger last week and I had teeth marks on my finger for two days,” Hoseok says in a pouty tone, showing him his index finger but there’s not a trace of teeth mark left there anymore.
Yoongi grins at him. “I’m somewhat familiar with the urge to bite you as well.”
“Yeah, you are,” Hoseok rolls his eyes, and Yoongi pats his thigh that’s probably still littered with love bites from a few nights ago. Then he turns back to his daughter, who’s watching them with big brown eyes. Her hair has started to grow a lot more recently, he notices. But she's been growing, developing so fast these days that it shouldn't be too surprising.
A few months ago, she couldn’t do much except cry, sleep and eat and now she’s more aware, watching them and reacting to all sorts of things. Seeing her trying to get a hold of how to drink from a cup already made Yoongi feel like she’s perhaps growing too fast. At night, just before Sarang goes to sleep, Yoongi plays with her, rolling a ball over to her and the first time she rolled it back perfectly, he nearly teared up. She even waves Jimin bye when he leaves for the night. Somehow he didn’t think parenthood would be so good, so emotional.
He sits up with Sarang laid across his arms and pushes his nose against between her neck and shoulder and she giggles. He inhales her soft, powdery flower scent and his wolf purrs gently, happy to be surrounded by his family.
“Little Sarang, are you excited?” Yoongi asks, pitching his voice up, and kisses her cheek, then her forehead. Sarang wiggles excitedly in his arms, cooing and making up words in her own baby language. “It’s the stars’ blessing day. Are you going to get presents?”
“I think I saw something under the tree,” Hoseok says as he joins them, reaching out to stroke Sarang’s cheek. “We should check it out.”
Yoongi pulls back and asks Sarang, “Do you want to go to dad?”
Sarang pulls closer to him, shaking her head as though he just betrayed her, and Hoseok laughs, a wonderful, joyful sound that quickly fills the room—his substitute for a scent.
“I told you, she missed you,” Hoseok tells him, patting his shoulder. “She’ll ease up once she sees the presents.”
“My heart hurts. I don’t want her to miss me so badly,” Yoongi mutters, leaning his forehead against hers and rubbing their noses together.
“I’m pretty sure it’s very normal for a kid to cling to the parent that they see less. You’re not doing anything wrong, Yoongi,” Hoseok says, calm and certain, and Yoongi nods to himself. That must be true, and even if they were a normal family, he could still not spend every hour with Sarang. For the next three days, he has no duties to attend to except to play with Sarang, so he will do just that until she’s sick of him.
“I’ll carry her then,” Yoongi declares, holding his daughter as they get out of the bed. Sarang lets go of his shirt and her grabby little hand curls around a lock of Yoongi's hair like she usually does. It's a habit that she had since she was an infant and she seems insistent on keeping that habit even almost a year later.
They are all still dressed in their pajamas, and a mysterious sense of joy squeezes Yoongi’s heart that he gets to do this: he gets to walk down with his daughter in his arms and with his husband by his side so that they can open some presents together.
Special occasions were never celebrated in the royal palace before. None that were supposed to be celebrated in private, at least. The king made sure to keep up appearances as much as he could, though he despised the festival of light deeply as any person with his disposition would. Yoongi always thought love simply disgusted, disturbed his father more than anything else. So they used to celebrate occasions only when there was a ball on the same day, otherwise birthdays, name days, stars’ blessing day and all the others went unmentioned in the royal palace.
It was his mother who sneaked into his bedroom at dawn with a small chocolate cake in her hands. It wasn’t larger than both of her palms, and only one candle burned in the honor of his birthday. Perhaps those secret birthday cakes are his favorite memories of his childhood, and how glad he is that he can provide Sarang with more.
Yoongi didn’t immediately realize that they were now allowed to celebrate whatever they wanted since it was normal for him to not do anything. When the king died and they moved into the palace, one night Hoseok told him that he turned twenty-eight and he didn’t even notice it because everything was such a mess. Wanting to celebrate his husband’s birthday was the catalyst, and now they celebrate everything.
Especially if it has to do with Sarang.
When they step into the sitting room, Yoongi scans the decorations. Every inch of the room is decorated with red and gold, even the big balsam fir tree that almost reaches the ceiling. Sarang lets out a gasp in his arms and he looks down at her with a smile. She’s wide eyed and has her hand in front of her mouth in the most Hoseok way possible. It’s her first stars’ blessing, and she already looks amazed.
“Isn’t the tree pretty, Sarang? Should we go and look at what’s underneath it?” Hoseok asks in his baby voice, overly excited, and Sarang responds immediately by looking over at him and trying to wiggle out of Yoongi’s arms.
“Have a look, princess,” Yoongi tells her as he hands her over to Hoseok. They go over to the tree and Yoongi picks up Hoseok’s present before he sits down on the floor, leaning against an armchair’s leg, not far from his family. He watches them with a smile as Sarang tears the wrapping paper of each of her presents, and she has a lot of them. She can hardly contain her excitement when she opens Taehyung and Jungkook’s presents, which are two plushies. Two additions to Sarang’s favorite puppy prince plushie that she got from Hoseok when she was born: a small puppy with a pink dress and a bigger puppy with a big crown and a cape. A puppy king and a puppy princess—they make Yoongi smile a bit wider, feeling awfully fond of Jungkook and Taehyung for completing the puppy plushie family.
From Jimin, she gets a pretty pale blue dress that is clearly intended for her first ball. That one feels a bit bittersweet because Yoongi feels like it was only yesterday that he held her for the first time and early next year, she’ll be one-year-old and they can finally show her off to the nobility.
From Namjoon, she gets a couple of books about fairy tales, while from Seokjin, she receives a wooden tea set. Her grandmother’s present is a couple of gold earrings and the rest of the presents are all from Hoseok and him: a lot of wooden toys, dolls with a house, and a tiny version of a piano that Yoongi had made for her. Sarang just sits on the floor, surrounded by all her presents, looking happy as can be, and Yoongi feels content.
His eyes shift to Hoseok when his husband starts slowly crawling toward him without a word, leaving Sarang to play with her new toys. Yoongi welcomes Hoseok in his lap with a smug teasing smile and presses his nose to the crock of Hoseok’s neck, inhaling his scent.
“Where’s my present?” Yoongi asks, kissing him there before their gazes meet again. “Is it in our bedroom?”
“In a way, but probably not how you think,” Hoseok whispers, staring almost seductively into his eyes. “Your rut is coming up next month and we haven’t been able to leave the palace since Sarang was born, so… I arranged everything for us to leave next month. Your mom agreed to look after Sarang, and Jimin also told me that he’d help if needed.”
Yoongi looks at Sarang, who is holding on to her new dolls and pointing at her eyes with her tiny fingers, then looks back at Hoseok. They haven’t left the palace since she arrived, and it sounds like Hoseok made sure that all the conditions are perfect. Especially because of Jimin. Sarang has an unexplainable fascination with Jimin.
“Are you really okay with leaving her?” Yoongi asks, his worry bleeding into his voice.
“I think the question is if you’re okay with leaving her,” Hoseok points out, and Yoongi looks back at Sarang again. “She’s big enough to stay with her grandmother, and we’ll be quick, anyway. Your rut won’t last longer than two days and we’ll be back as soon as it’s over. We’re not going too far either, I promise.”
“How can I say no when you’re trying so hard to convince me?” Yoongi asks jokingly, rubbing Hoseok’s side gently. “If you think it’s really okay, then I trust you.”
Hoseok cups his jaw to pull him into a quick kiss, then whispers, “I miss paying attention to only you.”
“I miss that too,” Yoongi whispers, pressing another kiss to Hoseok’s lips and reaching for the present next to him. “You should only pay attention to me. Happy stars’ blessing day, Seok!”
Hoseok’s eyes go wide and hungry for the surprise. Yoongi noticed a long time ago that his husband really, really loves presents. It doesn’t really matter what it is. Yoongi could give him the most useless thing he could find in a shop and Hoseok would react as though he pulled the stars down for him.
“Thank you,” Hoseok says as he starts unwrapping the bow, then lifting off the top to reveal a crown. Not quite as big as Yoongi’s, but it’s still gold with lunulae blooming on the side with white gems in the middle of them. Hoseok’s head snaps toward him, his lips forming a surprised o. “Yoon, this is so—”
“It’s pretty, just like you,” Yoongi says warmly. “I’ve always thought it was a damn shame that you’re not wearing a crown all the time. I thought it would suit you, so it’s time to change the tradition of only the king wearing a crown.”
He carefully lifts the crown out of the box and places it on Hoseok’s head perfectly. Somehow, it looks even better than he imagined in his head. That might have something to do with the fact that Hoseok is very beautiful and Yoongi is very much in love with him.
“Thank you. I love it,” Hoseok whispers, leaning in, his lips brushing against Yoongi’s.
“Please wear it every day,” Yoongi mutters before Hoseok’s grip on him tightens and he kisses him with more intent this time. Yoongi responds right away, opening his mouth and licking along Hoseok’s lips, wanting to taste every inch of him. His rut is still too far away and he can’t wait until then to have Hoseok.
“Ah…” a tiny voice says, followed up by a slight break before the second part of the word arrives. “—ppa.”
Yoongi pulls away, staring down at Sarang standing on wobbly legs. His daughter clutches Hoseok’s shirt in one hand, while the other holds the puppy king out toward Yoongi.
“Appa,” Sarang repeats, clearer this time, and Yoongi’s heart almost stops, but still he reaches for her and sits her in Hoseok’s lap. Sarang blinks at him and insistently holds out her plushie. “Appa.”
Tentatively, he looks at Hoseok with an urge to cry, and his husband gazes back at him, warm and loving, his eyes looking a bit glassy, and gives him an encouraging nod.
“Is–is that me? Is that appa?” Yoongi asks, his voice wavering a little, and Sarang nods confidently. Wordlessly, Hoseok hands him the puppy princess plushie as well, and Yoongi asks, “Is this princess Sarang?”
Sarang takes the princess puppy and hugs it to her chest alongside the puppy king, and Yoongi wraps his arms around her too, laying his head on top of her head, eyes stinging even harder.
“Don’t cry, Yoon,” Hoseok says gently, rubbing his arm. “She said it this morning for the first time and I couldn’t believe my ears. That’s how I knew she missed you. She loves you so much.”
“I love her so much too,” Yoongi whispers with a shaky smile. It’s so hard to imagine that once upon a time he was this small too and his father never treated him this way, that he only pushed him away. Yoongi can’t imagine what that would be like. He never wants to push Sarang away; he wants to keep her close, always.
“She knows,” Hoseok smiles. “You’re her appa, after all.”
A couple of teardrops rolling down his face, Yoongi laughs, and it’s a weak but happy sound because he has all the power to do better than his father and he has been doing his best to do just that. Now Sarang’s first word is his name. Sarang misses him. Sarang loves him, and it feels nothing sort of miracle.
There were days when he thought his life could never get better than the hell that it was.
Oh, how the Lunulae bloomed for him.
Over and over again.
Blessing him with more love than he could ever ask for.