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they don't make it farther than the next hall over. Jin's hands are trembling as Namjoon pulls him gently through the drafty, high-ceilinged corridors, and sags back against a wall as soon as their pace starts to slow.
"are you all right?" Namjoon asks, voice echoing against the stone, and Jin settles back into his body enough to notice the unsettling ferocity of his heartbeat, the way his lungs constrict his breath on every inhale. he gasps in a breath and blinks back humiliating stinging in his eyes, and feels soft hands stroking gently against his cheeks. "Jin-ah, hey, what's wrong?"
he opens his eyes, and it's-Namjoon. just Namjoon, standing in front of him, holding Jin up like he had in the darkness of the early morning. there's a crown glittering atop his hair, dark red paint smudged lightly over his lips, but-just Namjoon.
"i'm okay," Jin says, and his voice shakes through it. he wraps his fingers around Namjoon's wrists, displacing a few light bracelets, and tugs his hands down.
"are you scared?" it's a breathed-out question, Namjoon's eyes wide in the light from the oil lamps. Jin's thumbs trace sweeping lines over Namjoon's skin, drawing him just that much closer. Namjoon is watching his eyes, watching his lips. it's the most terrified Jin has ever been, and the most certain.
"i'm trying not to be," he murmurs.
Jin leans forward, ducks the last few centimeters that separate them.
Namjoon's smile trembles against his lips, his gasp as sweet sticky as honey. fingers lace through the hair at Jin's nape; Namjoon shudders as he lets himself stumble closer, as Jin's hand finds the firm muscles of his back, as the stones seep cold into his back and Namjoon presses warm against his front.
"Jin," Namjoon says, when they break. his hand in Jin's hair is gentle, stroking lightly, making Jin want to close his eyes and lean into the touch like a pampered lady's cat.
"i thought you might be disappointed," Jin whispers. Namjoon might be on his tiptoes, as he braces their foreheads together. "or angry. i'm not-i'm just me."
Namjoon's lips are pink, paint smudged at the corner of his mouth. there's a flush on his cheeks that colors him nicely, the lamp just to the side lighting up the smooth planes of his face. Jin could look at him for hours, and learn something new every minute.
"i never stopped looking," Namjoon starts, a little hesitant. "in all the wrong places, and they never felt-i met with every noble my age i could find in the record books. none of them talked to me like i was-like i was a person instead of a crown. and you've never made me feel like that. not at the ball, not when i didn't know anything about your work."
his thumb brushes Jin's cheek. Jin doesn't feel like he's breathing, overcome by the thing in his chest that has feathers now instead of claws, alive and warm and bubbling through his fingertips like champagne.
"Jin-ah," Namjoon whispers. "how could i be disappointed?"
Jin shudders, and gasps in a wet breath, and buries his face in Namjoon's shoulder. the embrace is as tender as the kiss, Namjoon holding him up with steady arms, pressing his cheek against Jin's hair. the tension floods out to the ground, only really noticeable after Jin's spine sags with the weight that's been lifted, when his legs shake after spending so long locked into place.
Namjoon holds him, fingers stroking nonsense patterns into the bare skin under Jin's collar, until Jin is ready to stand by himself again.
long hours later, Jin wakes up in the prince's bed. it takes him a moment to remember-confused in his exhaustion about the comfortable give of the mattress, the cool softness of the sheets against his skin, the warm pressure against his side and over his waist. he blinks up in confusion, the room lit by a lantern just to the side of the bed.
and then Namjoon sighs in his sleep, and curls closer to Jin's chest, and the memory of the night emerges from Jin's blurry confusion like scattered light from a necklace.
for most of the night, they'd talked. Namjoon had led them back to his rooms, had sent the small troupe of people there away-Jackson and the footmen almost bursting with effort to restrain themselves-and they'd talked. Jin had told him everything, from the summers spent with Hoseok and Yoongi to the scrawled note on the back of his wedding invitation. Namjoon had listened attentively, both of them cross-legged on the bed; knees pressed together, hands joined between them.
in between the talking, too, there had been kissing. Jin burns to remember it, the hand not trapped by Namjoon's weight fluttering up to brush against his lips. he's never spent that much time kissing before, pressed alternatively on top of each other with hands tangled in hair, sending an absurd amount of pillows falling to the ground until Namjoon had wobbled at the very edge of the bed and shrieked as he almost pitched over.
Namjoon had lent him a nightshirt, and they'd slipped under the down covers, and Namjoon had waited for Jin to pull himself close.
now, in the small hours of the morning, Jin has time to think. the thoughts are dizzy in his head, spinning even before he manages to untangle himself to sit up. Namjoon hums something unintelligible and flops over onto his back, lips pouted out in his sleep like a baby's. Jin's heart hurts with the flood of endearment, the desire to curl himself back under the covers and tuck himself back into Namjoon's side.
instead, as always, Jin heads to the kitchen. he stops by his room along the way, to pull on pants a little more appropriate, but can't make himself discard the shirt that fits him well, where one of the same size had enveloped Namjoon in a slight excess of fabric.
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