fic: untitled drabble #8 (junyu, royal au) [drabble september]

[moriendum]

fandom: tbz
pairing: juyeon/chanhee
rating: G
wordcount: 400 words
tags: royal au, commoner!new, prince!juyeon
a/n: crossposted from twitter in 2023.

Chanhee fixed the shoulders one last time, eyes on the mirror. He had been so focused on the clothes, making sure they fit comfortably around the prince’s shoulders, waist and chest, that he missed the prince’s eyes on him. Watching him through the mirror.

“You should come to the ball,” Prince Juyeon said. The dim candlelight reflected off the jewels on his coat, making him look every bit like the prince he was.

A pause. “I don’t think that would be appropriate, Your Highness.”

“Why not?”

Because that is not my place, Chanhee thought, but he bit his tongue. Call him a fool, but he didn’t think the prince was aware of how low Chanhee ranked outside of this room, newly appointed royal tailor or not. 

“I don’t have anything to wear,” he said instead, meeting the prince’s eyes through the mirror and smiling. He could only hope to placate him, to get that dangerous idea out of his head.

The constant friendliness, the kindness behind his steady gaze. None of that could change the fact that they were worlds apart. Chanhee knew that. 

“We could arrange that,” the prince said. “Maybe it’s too late to make something new, but we could…”

He stepped away from the mirror, leaving Chanhee’s side long enough to rifle through his dresser and come back with a richly embroidered navy tunic and beautiful white trousers.

“It’d have to be adjusted, the sleeves might be too long...” The prince held up the clothes and looked up expectantly at Chanhee, but he must’ve thought Chanhee didn’t like them enough, because he added, “I think blue suits you, but I have other things, we could find something else, too—”

“Your Highness…”

“Not that the clothes matter all that much. You will outshine them all regardless.”

Chanhee opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He cleared his throat, tried to organize his scattered thoughts. 

“Clothes do matter. Or have you forgotten all the work I’ve put into yours?”

“Right, of course. You’re right.” The prince chuckled. “I apologize. But will you come? Please?”

How could Chanhee say no? Jewel-encrusted outfits and royal blood aside, how could he say no to Juyeon?

“I will. With one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you will try your best not to spill any wine on this coat,” Chanhee said.

The prince smiled at him, foolishly happy, senselessly radiant, and Chanhee hoped, with all his heart, that he wasn’t making a mistake.