Arranged | Jinkook ✓

Chapter 11.0

How was he ever going to explain this?

There were bruises littering his skin in places where it didn't make sense. Along the back of his thighs, crawling up over his butt. And sure, the ones on his knees might have gone with the story he had told. That he had tripped over his own clumcy feet and went sprawling forward. That he had landed on his knees and injured his cheek on the edge of a step instead of on the cold, barren stone.

But those were different. And he wondered briefly if they would even be seen. Maybe he could just act shy. Bring forth all of the demure innocence that his mother had tried to instill in him.

He had no other choice.

...

"Get undressed." It felt like an order, and part of him wanted to ask if it was. Because he couldn't deny one of those. "Let your prince see what's being offered to him."

"My prince needs to learn to be paitent." He managed to make it playful, light and airy, carefully taking a step backwards until he was just out of reach. "Good things come to those who wait. Or am I not a good thing?"

"You are the best thing." The very best thing that ever could have happened. The very best decision. "How long will you make me wait?"

"Until you've earned it." But his fingers did go to the buttons of the shirt he wore, slowly slipping the first from it's hole, exposing the pale skin of his collar bone. He could do that much. Had nothing that needed to be hidden there.

"What do I have to do?" There were so many things he wanted to say. So many teasing little things that he wanted to ask for.

"Wait. Be paitent." Slender fingers worked on the next button, slowly letting the cotton cloth fall open. "Show me you want it."

"I do." He could see it. The way desire played within the princes eyes. Watched it dance and flicker like fire light. Felt something inside of him twist and wondered why he was actually making either of them wait. "I want you so much."

"My future husband desires me." And that should make him feel giddy. Did.

But there was still something deep inside of him that sparked with uncertainty. Like there was something simmering just below the surface that he couldn't quite break through and discover. Not yet.

Those fingers slipped downward, worked on a third button and then a fourth, until the shirt was loose enough to hang open, revealing inches of beautiful pale skin. "I desire him too. His time. His presence."

There were only two buttons left, a realization that came even as his fingers continued to work. The fabric was light, and it would take nothing for it to fall from his body once they were undone. But he completed the action anyway, letting them fall at the last.

"But most of all, I desire his heart."

"You already have it." Did he? Sometimes he was so sure. So certain that this was right and real and true. Good and pure. What he wanted and what he would always want.

And sometimes it felt wrong. Like he was living a lie. A life that had been meant for someone else.

"Prove it." He felt it then. Felt something change. Felt something snap. Like the tension in the air around them had finally reached it's peak and had settled back down into calm.

Until suddenly there was hands on his hips and he was being drawn forward, a sharp gasp leaving his lips as he was lifted, a mixture of pain and surface as those hands pressed into the bruised flesh of his thighs. Yet his legs spread so easily, wrapping around the other's waist, arms coming to rest atop wide shoulders.