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the bedroom Hoseok leads him to, well after dusk, is near the kitchens. there's an oil lamp on a sturdy-looking table, a wardrobe pressed into a corner, and a real bed that practically has Jin drooling at the thought.
"sorry we couldn't get anything nicer," Hoseok apologizes, like this is anything to be sorry for. Jin shakes his head mutely, drops his single bag to the floor next to the plainly carved stool in front of the small bucket of water next to the table, a ladle hooked over its lip. "there's plenty of guests on their way, and you know how Lord Min gets."
"this is wonderful," Jin promises. he sits down heavily on the bed, swaying a little on his feet after the trek from Yoongi's chambers to the rougher servants' quarters. he feels bad for Hoseok, who has to walk back up all those stairs to collapse into his own bed, just a room away from Yoongi. "i wouldn't mind sleeping in the stables, really."
Hoseok perches next to him, awkwardly earnest, hair pushed back like he never used to wear it when they were younger.
"you know Yoongi is joking, right? neither of us are going to tell the prince about you, not if you really don't want."
Jin nods, looks down at his hands. there's remnants of sugar powder underneath his nails that he'll need to scrub out before he sleeps. "i know. but-Jungkook found out. the prince's valet."
"will he say anything?" one of Hoseok's hands finds his, lips pursed in careful thought.
"no," Jin says. "i don't think so. he wants me to tell the prince myself."
"and you're not going to." it's not a question; Hoseok knows him better than Jin knows himself, sometimes.
"he's a prince," he whispers, on an incredulous little laugh. "hobi, in what world would he want me?"
there's a long moment of silence. Hoseok looks like he doesn't quiet know what to say, opens his mouth a few time before he manages to articulate anything. Jin is deeply tired, suddenly, of being told that Namjoon is good, that Namjoon wouldn't care, but Hoseok always manages to know what he needs.
"you're right," Hoseok says slowly. "he is a prince. and maybe he was just caught up in the ball. but, Jin-ah, what if you never try? you wanted so badly to be there in the first place. you can't just live the rest of your life pretending that what happened wasn't real."
Jin closes his eyes. in his mind, it feels like a fairy tale-like the ball was a story whispered to him by one of the older cooks, like he'd dreamed up the gentle hands and bright laughter of the crown prince of his kingdom.
"it might be better," he says. Hoseok's fingers are gentle through his hair, the sigh deep and heavy in his chest.
"what happened to my favorite kid, huh?" Hoseok asks. Jin's shoulders slump, his elbows braced on his knees, Hoseok carding through the hair at the back of his neck. "you used to think you could do anything."
