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Why Jimin had allowed himself to be dragged here to all places was a mystery. He’d had no intentions to ever go to the Masquerade ball thrown by the King, but his best friend Taehyung had practically dragged him with him, not wanting to go alone.
“It’ll be boring without you, Jimin! Come on, please? For me?” He’d even thrown in his adorable puppy eyes that he knew Jimin had no defence against, which lead him to his current predicament.
If you were to ask Jimin, he was definitely not hiding against the buffet and sulking whilst eating the tasty little buffet meals alone. For someone who was insistent that he didn’t want to be alone at the ball, Taehyung was sure quick to abandon Jimin at the first chance he got. He had even gotten dressed for the occasion so Taehyung wouldn’t complain about him not putting an effort in.
Sporting a beautiful white silk shirt with a jabot adorning his collar, black low collared vest made from an almost velvety garment with all three buttons all buttoned up and a long black coat on top of that. It was left unbuttoned to show off his vest and jabot, and the coat itself was decorated in golden leaves on the hems of his sleeves and patterns going from the shoulders down his coat to the end of his coat, right besides the buttons. The pants were simple black ones as well, with boots to match. Despite the all dark theme, Jimin knew that the black would make all the golden accents pop out more, as well as his blond hair.
For a mask Jimin had opted for a woman’s mask, but he knew he was pulling it off, judging by the looks he had received all night from other men and women alike. The mask was a white one covering the circumference around his eyes, adorned with glittery gold swirls on one side and the half of a butterfly in white with some small gemstones around the middle of the mask. Jimin had also decided that if he was going all out in the clothing department, then it would be pointless not to make the rest of him as stunning as the clothes he adorned. Therefore, he had black shimmery eyeshadow that accentuated his brown eyes and a small gemstone right in the middle of his undereye, and his blonde hair had been slicked back and slightly curled so that he would have some volume.
To summarize, Jimin looked damn good. But that didn’t mean he had intentions of interacting with anyone at the ball. He had made himself look good so that his friend would be happy, and that’s all that the blond cared about. But, in vain considering that Jimin had forced his eyes around that ballroom several times and not seen the faintest glimpse of his friend anywhere. And, with all the stares directed at him, Jimin’s mind started to come to the realization that dressing this fine had been a mistake on his part. It wouldn’t be too long until some jackass would try to hit on him and Jimin was far too polite to turn them down if they did.
“Enjoying the ball?”
Startled by the new voice right next to his ear, Jimin whips his head around to meet the darkest brown eyes he had ever seen. The black mask certainly made his eyes seem darker somehow as well, even with the gold embezzlement on the edges of the mask.
“Ack! You—warn someone before you pop out of nowhere like that!” Before Jimin could stop his brain, the words had flowed out of his mouth and now he couldn’t take them back. He refrained from physically facepalming at his own idiocy as he could feel the warmth on his cheeks from his own shame manifest as a blush, visible even under his own mask.
Luckily, the other person only chuckled in amusement at Jimin’s own failure and prompted Jimin to pry his eyes from the others to his mouth and strong jawline—a jawline that Jimin very much wanted to taste — no, bad brain! Stop that! — that was framed by raven coloured hair and further down to the clothes that the other male was wearing, and wow.
This man certainly knew what fit his body type, from the slightly opened white dress shirt to the black high collared vest with golden embroidery with a pattern that would’ve been more visible if the man in question hadn’t opted for keeping it open and exposing his collar bones and silk shirt to the rest of the world. On top of that was a dark red coat with black hems and some golden accessories on the front of the coat. Sporting the same type of black pants as Jimin, with boots that looked more like work boots than the decorative ones Jimin wore that held no function besides looking good with his outfit.
Jimin had spent so long checking out the man in front of him, he completely missed the answer he received. He realized as much when he found himself looking up into the man’s eyes and receiving a self-satisfied smirk and slightly widened eyes—waiting for his response. Blushing, Jimin collected himself and mentally shook himself out of the weird sensations that smirk was doing to his mind and body.
“I’m sorry, I zoned out a little there. Could you repeat that?”
“Hm.” The smirk widened even more, and his eyes glinted in an almost mischievous way, like he knew that Jimin had been checking him out.
“Certainly. I said, ‘I apologize for startling you, but you seemed too pretty to not come over and talk to’.” Jimin had to clench one of his fists hidden under the sleeves of his coat to avoid making a physical reaction to the deep, raspy voice that the stranger had. How did this man somehow embody everything Jimin could ever want in a man? This had to be illegal.
“T-Thank you.” Fighting to keep the redness from blooming further across his face, Jimin busied himself with looking at the buffet table in front of him. Going by the warmth he could feel around his face and ears told him that the mission was a failure.
“So, does pretty have a name, or do you prefer ‘pretty’?” Jimin huffed in response out of embarrassment before he contemplated giving the handsome man his name or not. Then he glanced at said man through his peripheral and saw the smirk on his face, accompanied with that glint in his eyes yet again. Fuck it.
“Park Jimin.” He bursts out before the logical part of his brain could protest and turns more towards the other male. “And yours?”
The man in question turned his lips towards one side in a lopsided smile and his eyes fixated into Jimin’s own. “Pretty name for a pretty thing like you.” His hand reached out and gently stroked Jimin’s jaw. Following the route down to his chin and then released his face. The eye contact never seized to stop during that entire exchange, his dark eyes almost penetrating Jimin’s, looking for something, though Jimin had no clue what exactly.
“Min Yoongi.” Jimin started out of his own aroused bubble at the name. Min Yoongi, huh. He could’ve sworn he had heard that name somewhere before, the name itself stirring up something in the back of his mind. Then, like a brick against his skull, he remembered why that name rang a bell.
“Min Yoongi, as in Crown Prince Min Yoongi!?” Shit, this really wasn’t Jimin’s night!
“That’d be me.” Yoongi’s face was still stuck in the same smile, but it wasn’t reaching his eyes, which had seemingly lost a little of the shine that had been there only moments prior. Jimin furrowed his brows, didn’t Yoongi like being recognized as the Crown Prince? Perhaps he didn’t like the attention?
No matter what the reason, Jimin decided not to put any more attention to something that wasn’t his issue to solve. Instead, he tries to school his expression so that he doesn’t look as shocked. “Oh, that’s… pretty cool.” Nodding, the blond man takes a drink from the table and takes a sip. Feeling the alcohol flood his system, Jimin feels a little braver. “So, you find me pretty?”
Relief was clear on the prince’s entire face as he finally gets a new subject to talk about. “Hmm.” He leans on the table and puts himself right in Jimin’s personal space—Jimin finds that he doesn’t mind as much as he would’ve normally. Maybe the alcohol was stronger than he anticipated. Or perhaps the very handsome man had this effect on him rather than the drink. The raven-haired man continued to talk though, in between Jimin’s inner turmoil.
“I do find you very pretty. Such a pretty face, and even prettier eyes.” Following the statement is even more intense eye staring, and Jimin very much feels like this man is staring into his very being. Such piercing eyes, how was he supposed to be able to break eye contact with Yoongi?
The compliments set themselves over Jimin’s skin like an overlayer, making him feel very warm and soft. Maybe the alcohol was fucking with his mind after all. “Thank you.” It comes out meekly, but at least it wasn’t a squeak like Jimin had feared.
“You’re welcome, pretty.” There it was again. Pretty. Normally, Jimin’s masculinity wouldn’t appreciate being called ‘pretty’, but coming from this man, he found he quite enjoyed it, especially accompanied with the intense eyes and smirk.
“How do you know if I’m pretty if my mask covers half my face?” Jimin hadn’t intentionally tried to move closer to the man, but Yoongi’s dark look made him lean forward instinctively, and the words had gone between their mouth like a whispered promise; just for the two of them to hear.
“Want to show me then? How pretty you are behind that mask?” Yoongi came even closer, their lips only millimetres apart, they were breathing in the air that the other was breathing out. His brain completely malfunctioning, Jimin could only muster a slow nod. Just as Jimin thought they were going to kiss; his eyes beginning to close in preparation for it, Yoongi withdrew with a chuckle. Jimin opened his eyes properly again and tried his best to force the pout of his face before the prince could see it; he was not going to let himself be embarrassed by looking desperate in front of the future king of Seoul.
“Don’t worry, pretty.” His voice, deep and raspy, infiltrated Jimin’s ear canals and into his very being. The raven-haired had leaned close again to whisper in the blond’s ears. “Let’s continue this somewhere no one else can see.”
It made Jimin’s mind scramble to realize that the two were still in a public space, occupying the buffet table. It made him unintentionally give out a little whine, which the prince had caught; judging by the dark look he received in return.
Upon the remembrance of the setting he found himself in, Jimin looked around to see if anyone was watching them, catching a glimpse of his best friend staring at him with bulging eyes, before his hand was grabbed and he was dragged out of the ballroom. Looking back, he saw it was the crown prince who was dragging him away from the crowd and—somewhere.
Navigating through some hallways that Jimin would never remember upon returning, they finally stopped at a door for a brief moment before Yoongi opened the doors and gently dragged Jimin’s hand, so he’d step through the doorway first.
It was a bedroom. A quite luxurious bedroom at that. As Jimin takes it all in, arms snake themselves over his middle and hold him tight into a warm chest.
“I hope this isn’t too sudden for you. I’ve never felt this way towards anyone else before and I—I just want to taste you so badly. Can I, pretty?”
Jimin had never been the “fuck and leave” type of person, despite the insistent teasing of Taehyung. Therefore, he was quite hesitant if this was something he should be doing, and with the Crown Prince of all people. But, when would he ever get an opportunity like this again? It was a rumour that the Prince had as a notorious prude man; never accepting the numerous love confessions thrown his way. And the Prince had stated that this wasn’t something he did regularly as well… So maybe it was okay? Just this once?
“Y-Yeah.”
“Yeah? I’ll make you feel so good, pretty.” Pulling down his shirt, Yoongi starts to kiss down Jimin’s neck; marking him up with hickies he’ll be sporting tomorrow, no doubt. But, being so openly appreciated makes Jimin’s skin tingle and he nods in response.
“Yes, please.” He whines, stretching his neck further so that Yoongi has more space to mark him, which by the tightening grip around his waist and nip at the little spot where his neck meets his collar bone is an indicator.
“Fuck, keep begging like that, pretty. Beg prettily for me.”
The night went by in a flurry of pleasure, haze and hickies. A bunch of hickies. Honestly, Jimin’s skin was littered in purple love bruises and his back was aching deliciously, reminding him of the actions of the previous night. Of the person who had railed into him so much he swore he saw stars. The same man that had been summoned by the King, his older brother Seokjin—or so Yoongi had said as he kept kissing Jimin breathless as he was leaving. After he had begged Jimin not to leave before he was back.
So, this was where Jimin’s current predicament was at; naked in the Crown Prince’s bed, waiting for his return. Just as he had for the last 30 minutes, trying to find something to do whilst waiting. Jimin also wasn’t certain if he was allowed to touch anything in the room; like for instance the bathroom to take a shower.
Jimin contemplated this dilemma for a couple of minutes before deciding to go for it. He stands up and, considering there are no one in the room with him, walks over to the bathroom with nothing covering his naked form.
The bathroom was just as luxurious as the bedroom, with not only a shower, but a separate bathtub as well. Forfeiting the shower idea, Jimin immediately prepares the bath, wanting to take a bath rather than just a shower. Once the temperature is exactly right, Jimin enters. A sigh escapes his mouth as he slides down into the warm, fragranced bathwater. Now Jimin would not smell like sex and sweat, but vanilla and cherry blossoms, just like the bathwater that he had put the fragranced oils in.
Jimin doesn’t know how long he stayed in the bathtub, considering he started half dozing off at some point, but he did realize when he suddenly wasn’t alone in the room. Turning, he spots Yoongi. He’s staring right at Jimin, a fondness in his expression that the blond hadn’t been prepared to see.
Yoongi walks up to the tub; his boots making ‘thud, thud’ sounds as he nears the man in the bathtub. The thuds stop once the raven-haired man is right in front of the tub, and by extension Jimin himself. He gets down on his knees and puts his large hands on the edge of the bathtub. He then props himself and stares—yet again—into Jimin’s eyes.
“Enjoying your bath, pretty?”
“I do. It’s very comfortable.” Jimin sinks in a little deeper into the tub and leans his head on the edge of the tub so he can be eye-to-eye with the prince. He offers a smile to the raven-head, which is returned with a gummy smile of his own.
“I’m glad. Wouldn’t want my pretty to be uncomfortable.”
“Your… pretty?” Jimin can’t help but ask shyly, not allowing his own mind to twist the words into wishful fantasies where he could possibly belong to Yoongi.
“My pretty.” Yoongi reaffirms, expression serious. “I want this—this connection between us to be a permanent thing. That is, if you’ll allow me.”
“Allow you what?” Cocking his head confusedly to the side, Jimin looks adorably confused at the raven-haired prince, earning him a laugh from the man himself as he takes one hand and strokes it through Jimin’s blond locks.
“Allow me to call you mine. For you to belong to me, and me only. Will you allow me that privileged, pretty?” And the smile that bloomed on Jimin’s face was more than enough of an answer to the prince as he captures the blond’s lips with his own.
Yes.