Villain kids

38

Hyuck: “You’re a goner.” He smirks at the taller one, who just blinks back in confusion.
Jisung: “Excuse me?”
Hyuck: “I mean—you’re not getting out of this. You fell in love with Chenle!” he yells, eyes sparkling, making Jisung practically panic.
Jisung: “Keep your voice down! What if he hears us?”
Hyuck: “Damn. Even the baby’s fallen in love. Poor Sungchan.” He bursts out laughing and the younger can’t help but laugh too.
Jisung: “He’s gonna eat himself alive if I get a boyfriend before him.”
Hyuck: “I think he’s gonna rot in that design studio from shame.”
Jisung: “No, but seriously, Hyuck... I’m NOT sharing a room with Chenle. I’d be a complete mess. Please don’t do this to me.” His eyes plead desperately—no joke, he really doesn’t want this.
Hyuck: “Well, Jeno and Jaemin are already ‘sharing’ no matter what rooms they get. You could move into my room, stay with Sungchan. It’d be like your own.”
Jisung: “I guess that’s... okay. Just don’t make me share with Chenle, I couldn’t take it.”

His sentence cuts off as the door swings open.

Chenle: “Oh wow, that’s how you really feel?” He pauses, eyes glossy, before running off—tears threatening to spill.

Jisung’s heart fractures.

Jisung: “Fuck! I’m going after him.” And he bolts after the fairy.

---

The chase ends quick—the taller knows exactly where the shorter runs to.

He sighs, mind racing for words. The idea of confessing flares up then quickly doused by his own nerves.

He stares at the blonde curls peeking from behind the tree and exhales—guess he’ll just go with the flow.

Jisung (softly): “Chenle...”

The fairy looks up, wary.

Chenle: “I don’t wanna talk.”

Jisung: “Please don’t say that. It breaks my heart.”

Chenle: “Well, maybe think before you talk behind my back. Just... leave.”

Jisung: “Chenle, I swear that last thing you heard was taken out of context. I would never talk behind your back...”

Chenle: “And I’m just supposed to believe you? Just take your word?”

Jisung: “Pretty much, yeah.”

Chenle: “Just leave, Jisung. All I do is get hurt since I started hanging out with you guys. I can’t keep doing this. I need to step back.”

Jisung: “Okay. But I think you’re scared—scared of the Godmother not accepting your choices, even though you want to change your life a bit. That fear makes you overthink, makes you jump to conclusions.”

He pauses, voice thick.

Jisung: “Chenle, I’d love to share a room with you... but I can’t. And it hurts that you think I’d talk behind your back when all I think about is the good in you.”

Chenle: “Tell me. Tell me why you can’t share a room. Give me a real reason, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Jisung: “I can’t just say it.”

Chenle: “Then just... leave.”

Jisung: “Chenle...”

Chenle: “Please, Jisung. Leave me alone.”

Jisung nods slowly, heart sinking, and turns back to the dorms.

Behind him, Chenle’s tears start falling again as the weight of those words crashes over him.

---

Meanwhile, in the royal room, the lights are off. Mark frowns—where was his love?

Hyuck (whispering): “I can feel your confusion, babe.”

He flips on the lights and finds the purple-haired sitting on the windowsill.

Mark: “I thought you were asleep.”

Hyuck: “No way. Not without you.”

Mark: “Good. Now come here and give me a kiss.”

Hyuck (grinning): “How about you come here and give me one?” He pats the bed beside him with a cheeky smile.

The prince smirks and walks over.

Mark: “I missed you so much.”

He leans in; their lips meet softly, then grow hungrier, deeper.

Hyuck shifts, wrapping legs around Mark’s waist. The prince’s hands wander—thighs, back, torso—until he lifts him effortlessly, carrying him to the big bed.

Sitting down, the prince pulls the purple-haired onto his lap, breath growing heavy, hands growing curious.

Clothes grow warm, tighter, heavier...

Hyuck’s hips grind softly, desperate for friction, moving faster, pressing closer.

A low, needy groan escapes Mark’s lips.

He parts their mouths, strips off Hyuck’s shirt, then his own.

Lifting him again, Mark lays him gently on the bed and hovers, trailing kisses over skin—stomach, chest, shoulders—before crashing back into a feverish kiss.

Their touches grow bolder, pants loosen, bodies pressed, grinding, and the inevitable is near.