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merryfuture2025-07-16 05:47 pm
staygame) wrote in merryfuture2025-07-16 05:47 pm
Entry tags:
boynextdoor: save all your slow dances (2025)
save all your slow dances (ao3 link, see original work for author's notes) | boynextdoor, jaehyun/sungho, 1.5k words, mature
tags: alternate universe - royalty, flash fic, no archive warnings apply
---
Jaehyun is wearing a blue suit, a shade just brighter and richer than all of the other navy and black suits spread out across the ballroom floor so that Sungho notices Jaehyun immediately across the crowd. As though Sungho wouldn't notice Jaehyun in any crowd, like he isn't attuned to the exact frisson of energy that passes through any room Jaehyun enters, his eyes finding Jaehyun automatically.
Sungho swallows the rest of his wine as one of his older relatives finishes a story about his recent business trip in Singapore. Sungho's mother responds enthusiastically to whatever the relative has said, sparing Sungho from having to pretend like he was listening instead of watching Jaehyun doing a round of greetings.
They'd grown up together, two of the youngest members of the extended royal family, just a few months apart. As children, chasing each other through palace halls and croquet fields, making faces at each other behind the backs of their parents at formal weddings. Then as pubescent teens, coming back together on holidays from their respective boarding schools to gossip about their family members and play games together on their phones.
And then at 17, they both attended an event in honor of the opening of a new museum wing. They'd sneaked away from one of the endless courses, ending up in a secluded hall of ancient pottery. Sungho doesn't remember what made Jaehyun laugh, only that Jaehyun, tipsy on the fancy champagne, laughed so hard that he'd stumbled and Sungho, trained from birth to be responsible, caught Jaehyun in his arms, lest he bump into a bronze age vase. Without slipping out of Sungho's grasp, Jaehyun turned around. They were close enough that the tips of their oxfords touched. Jaehyun's cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted as he caught his breath and Sungho remembers being filled with want unlike anything he'd ever experienced in his life before then. He kissed Jaehyun, and Jaehyun kissed him back.
It's not like they were together, not really. They'd ended up at two different universities—Jaehyun studying music, Sungho studying literature—and their relationship had always mostly existed within the background of official events and royal family gatherings. It's just that from that day on, instead of sneaking off to get away from the cameras and loosen their ties, they'd be making out, hands shoved down pants, gasping into each other's mouths.
Sungho watches as Jaehyun takes a glass of wine from a passing waiter. Jaehyun hasn't noticed him yet, which gives Sungho time to stare, his chest tight. He hasn't seen Jaehyun in a few months. The last time had been at a funeral for a cousin of Sungho's great aunt by marriage, and it wasn't like they were going to hook up in a cathedral bathroom or something. None of their Christmas events ended up overlapping.
"Oh, darling. Look, Jaehyun is here," Sungho's mother says, clearly not looking at him, otherwise she would've noticed that Sungho's gaze is fixed on him already. She knows they're close, though Sungho certainly hopes she doesn't know how close. "I'm sure you'd rather talk to him than us boring adults."
"You're not boring," Sungho reassures his mother and his great uncle, but he takes the opportunity to excuse himself.
Within that moment, Sungho had lost track of Jaehyun. He's looking around the crowd when he feels a hand on his back, and he knows it's Jaehyun just from the smell of his cologne.
"Hi," Sungho says.
"Happy new year," Jaehyun says. His hair is swept back off his forehead and he is devastatingly good looking up close.
"Not for another—" Sungho looks at his watch— "four hours."
Jaehyun swallows another sip of wine. "Semantics. How was the end of your term?"
They talk about their studies for a while, periodically interrupted by other relatives making their greetings, Sungho's brother stopping by to show Jaehyun the unstaged photos from his daughter's christening a few weeks back. Each interrupted moment, each tick of the second hand on Sungho's watch feels like closing in on a deadline. Sungho is tipsy and a little antsy by the time he grabs Jaehyun by the wrist and whispers, "Should we go somewhere quiet?"
There are almost a hundred rooms at the estate and Sungho has explored them all over the years, so he knows where they can go, a bedroom unoccupied by any of the holiday guests that's not also on the public tour. The decor is opulent and old fashioned, but it feels less stuffy with the lights off, the room lit only by a tall lamp with a gold-fringed shade. Being a royal means being used to doing the same base, human things as everyone else in surroundings preserved in time.
Jaehyun pulls Sungho in by his tie. "You should've taken up my offer to come visit me in November," Jaehyun says, one hand wrapping around Sungho's waist.
Sungho swallows. "I wanted to, but I already had to take time off for the christening."
"It's okay. I forgive you," Jaehyun says, and then their mouths meet with an easy familiarity.
Sungho's hands come up to Jaehyun's face, thumbs brushing the jut of his cheekbones. He kisses like he wants to memorize Jaehyun, his handsome features and the heat of his mouth and the ridges of his teeth. He feels like he might be clinging to Jaehyun as they reach the bed and fall back against it. Jaehyun ends up half in Sungho's lap, grinding down against him as their kissing becomes more desperate.
"Careful, you're going to wrinkle your suit," Sungho says, breathing hard against Jaehyun's mouth.
Undressing is a practicality, but Sungho sits back, waits for Jaehyun to go first so he can admire the flat plane of Jaehyun's stomach and his dusky nipples and his soft thighs. Jaehyun, down to his underwear, looks up. "What?"
"Nothing," Sungho says, fingers curling into the hideously floral bedspread. "Just looking."
"Okay, well it's not like we have all night," Jaehyun says. He claps his hands. "Chop chop."
Sungho undresses and drapes his suit over a chair. When he returns to the bed, Jaehyun is lying on his side, elbow tucked under his head, a very draw me like one of your French girls pose that makes Sungho laugh. "Are you seduced?" Jaehyun asks, smiling, pleased.
They get each other off with hands and mouths, swallowing down the evidence of debauchery. There will be other clues, like the bruises Sungho sucked into Jaehyun's thighs, but those will be hidden under their clothes, a shared secret.
In the lamplight, with Jaehyun looking blissful and just a bit dazed, Sungho makes his confession. "We can't do this anymore."
Jaehyun turns his head. They're sitting on the floor in front of the bed, dressed only in their underwear. Jaehyun's legs are stretched out, his ankle touching Sungho's. "What? Why not?"
"My family. My brother's wife had such a hard time conceiving, it's…they want me to get married sooner rather than later." The expectation goes unstated—married, to a woman, ideally one from a list of pedigreed options, though there is some room for love if Sungho finds it with a suitable woman.
"Oh," Jaehyun says.
Sungho is almost afraid to look at Jaehyun. There is a real fear that he will find indifference, a casual acceptance of the circumstances instead of the regret bordering on devastation that Sungho has felt since his parents sat him down after his niece's christening.
"If I'm going to be going on dates or whatever my parents want, I just don't think it's fair to whoever I'm seeing, you know?" Sungho says.
Between them, Jaehyun's hand touches Sungho's open palm, fingers fanning out, nudging into the spaces between Sungho's fingers. Sungho looks up, and Jaehyun is frowning, shoulders sagging. Something like relief nudges in alongside the heaviness in Sungho's chest.
"I understand," Jaehyun says. He squeezes Sungho's hand.
The only way Jaehyun could ever make it to the throne is through a series of impossible abdications or deaths, but Sungho will be third in line if his brother doesn't have another heir. His days of freedom are over. "I just wish we had more time," Sungho says.
Jaehyun reaches across Sungho, picks up his left hand. "We still have two and a half hours until midnight," he says, reading the time off of Sungho's watch. "Let's say we have until then."
But they don't. It's not like they can stay gone for the rest of the night. "I like being with you," Sungho admits quietly. "I like you."
"Shit," Jaehyun says. He drops his head, and Sungho sees tears at the corners of his eyes. "Ah, Park Sungho. I like you too."
For the second time, Jaehyun ends up in Sungho's lap. This time he wraps his arms around Sungho, hugging him tight. Sungho breathes in Jaehyun's scent, commits the feeling of their bodies pressed together to memory.
When the final countdown begins two hours later, Sungho will wish to find another love that feels like this.
tags: alternate universe - royalty, flash fic, no archive warnings apply
---
Jaehyun is wearing a blue suit, a shade just brighter and richer than all of the other navy and black suits spread out across the ballroom floor so that Sungho notices Jaehyun immediately across the crowd. As though Sungho wouldn't notice Jaehyun in any crowd, like he isn't attuned to the exact frisson of energy that passes through any room Jaehyun enters, his eyes finding Jaehyun automatically.
Sungho swallows the rest of his wine as one of his older relatives finishes a story about his recent business trip in Singapore. Sungho's mother responds enthusiastically to whatever the relative has said, sparing Sungho from having to pretend like he was listening instead of watching Jaehyun doing a round of greetings.
They'd grown up together, two of the youngest members of the extended royal family, just a few months apart. As children, chasing each other through palace halls and croquet fields, making faces at each other behind the backs of their parents at formal weddings. Then as pubescent teens, coming back together on holidays from their respective boarding schools to gossip about their family members and play games together on their phones.
And then at 17, they both attended an event in honor of the opening of a new museum wing. They'd sneaked away from one of the endless courses, ending up in a secluded hall of ancient pottery. Sungho doesn't remember what made Jaehyun laugh, only that Jaehyun, tipsy on the fancy champagne, laughed so hard that he'd stumbled and Sungho, trained from birth to be responsible, caught Jaehyun in his arms, lest he bump into a bronze age vase. Without slipping out of Sungho's grasp, Jaehyun turned around. They were close enough that the tips of their oxfords touched. Jaehyun's cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted as he caught his breath and Sungho remembers being filled with want unlike anything he'd ever experienced in his life before then. He kissed Jaehyun, and Jaehyun kissed him back.
It's not like they were together, not really. They'd ended up at two different universities—Jaehyun studying music, Sungho studying literature—and their relationship had always mostly existed within the background of official events and royal family gatherings. It's just that from that day on, instead of sneaking off to get away from the cameras and loosen their ties, they'd be making out, hands shoved down pants, gasping into each other's mouths.
Sungho watches as Jaehyun takes a glass of wine from a passing waiter. Jaehyun hasn't noticed him yet, which gives Sungho time to stare, his chest tight. He hasn't seen Jaehyun in a few months. The last time had been at a funeral for a cousin of Sungho's great aunt by marriage, and it wasn't like they were going to hook up in a cathedral bathroom or something. None of their Christmas events ended up overlapping.
"Oh, darling. Look, Jaehyun is here," Sungho's mother says, clearly not looking at him, otherwise she would've noticed that Sungho's gaze is fixed on him already. She knows they're close, though Sungho certainly hopes she doesn't know how close. "I'm sure you'd rather talk to him than us boring adults."
"You're not boring," Sungho reassures his mother and his great uncle, but he takes the opportunity to excuse himself.
Within that moment, Sungho had lost track of Jaehyun. He's looking around the crowd when he feels a hand on his back, and he knows it's Jaehyun just from the smell of his cologne.
"Hi," Sungho says.
"Happy new year," Jaehyun says. His hair is swept back off his forehead and he is devastatingly good looking up close.
"Not for another—" Sungho looks at his watch— "four hours."
Jaehyun swallows another sip of wine. "Semantics. How was the end of your term?"
They talk about their studies for a while, periodically interrupted by other relatives making their greetings, Sungho's brother stopping by to show Jaehyun the unstaged photos from his daughter's christening a few weeks back. Each interrupted moment, each tick of the second hand on Sungho's watch feels like closing in on a deadline. Sungho is tipsy and a little antsy by the time he grabs Jaehyun by the wrist and whispers, "Should we go somewhere quiet?"
There are almost a hundred rooms at the estate and Sungho has explored them all over the years, so he knows where they can go, a bedroom unoccupied by any of the holiday guests that's not also on the public tour. The decor is opulent and old fashioned, but it feels less stuffy with the lights off, the room lit only by a tall lamp with a gold-fringed shade. Being a royal means being used to doing the same base, human things as everyone else in surroundings preserved in time.
Jaehyun pulls Sungho in by his tie. "You should've taken up my offer to come visit me in November," Jaehyun says, one hand wrapping around Sungho's waist.
Sungho swallows. "I wanted to, but I already had to take time off for the christening."
"It's okay. I forgive you," Jaehyun says, and then their mouths meet with an easy familiarity.
Sungho's hands come up to Jaehyun's face, thumbs brushing the jut of his cheekbones. He kisses like he wants to memorize Jaehyun, his handsome features and the heat of his mouth and the ridges of his teeth. He feels like he might be clinging to Jaehyun as they reach the bed and fall back against it. Jaehyun ends up half in Sungho's lap, grinding down against him as their kissing becomes more desperate.
"Careful, you're going to wrinkle your suit," Sungho says, breathing hard against Jaehyun's mouth.
Undressing is a practicality, but Sungho sits back, waits for Jaehyun to go first so he can admire the flat plane of Jaehyun's stomach and his dusky nipples and his soft thighs. Jaehyun, down to his underwear, looks up. "What?"
"Nothing," Sungho says, fingers curling into the hideously floral bedspread. "Just looking."
"Okay, well it's not like we have all night," Jaehyun says. He claps his hands. "Chop chop."
Sungho undresses and drapes his suit over a chair. When he returns to the bed, Jaehyun is lying on his side, elbow tucked under his head, a very draw me like one of your French girls pose that makes Sungho laugh. "Are you seduced?" Jaehyun asks, smiling, pleased.
They get each other off with hands and mouths, swallowing down the evidence of debauchery. There will be other clues, like the bruises Sungho sucked into Jaehyun's thighs, but those will be hidden under their clothes, a shared secret.
In the lamplight, with Jaehyun looking blissful and just a bit dazed, Sungho makes his confession. "We can't do this anymore."
Jaehyun turns his head. They're sitting on the floor in front of the bed, dressed only in their underwear. Jaehyun's legs are stretched out, his ankle touching Sungho's. "What? Why not?"
"My family. My brother's wife had such a hard time conceiving, it's…they want me to get married sooner rather than later." The expectation goes unstated—married, to a woman, ideally one from a list of pedigreed options, though there is some room for love if Sungho finds it with a suitable woman.
"Oh," Jaehyun says.
Sungho is almost afraid to look at Jaehyun. There is a real fear that he will find indifference, a casual acceptance of the circumstances instead of the regret bordering on devastation that Sungho has felt since his parents sat him down after his niece's christening.
"If I'm going to be going on dates or whatever my parents want, I just don't think it's fair to whoever I'm seeing, you know?" Sungho says.
Between them, Jaehyun's hand touches Sungho's open palm, fingers fanning out, nudging into the spaces between Sungho's fingers. Sungho looks up, and Jaehyun is frowning, shoulders sagging. Something like relief nudges in alongside the heaviness in Sungho's chest.
"I understand," Jaehyun says. He squeezes Sungho's hand.
The only way Jaehyun could ever make it to the throne is through a series of impossible abdications or deaths, but Sungho will be third in line if his brother doesn't have another heir. His days of freedom are over. "I just wish we had more time," Sungho says.
Jaehyun reaches across Sungho, picks up his left hand. "We still have two and a half hours until midnight," he says, reading the time off of Sungho's watch. "Let's say we have until then."
But they don't. It's not like they can stay gone for the rest of the night. "I like being with you," Sungho admits quietly. "I like you."
"Shit," Jaehyun says. He drops his head, and Sungho sees tears at the corners of his eyes. "Ah, Park Sungho. I like you too."
For the second time, Jaehyun ends up in Sungho's lap. This time he wraps his arms around Sungho, hugging him tight. Sungho breathes in Jaehyun's scent, commits the feeling of their bodies pressed together to memory.
When the final countdown begins two hours later, Sungho will wish to find another love that feels like this.