Chapter Text
“Taeyong! Brat! It’s your turn to help dad!”
“I’m busy preparing dinner for everyone! Could you please for once help out a bit?”
Doyoung peaks around the corner of the kitchen area where Taeyong is preparing dinner, rolls his eyes, and meanders into their small, shared room.
“I’m tired. Had a long day.” He flops on top of a small, threadbare blanket on the ground, picking at a fraying spot on his cotton pants.
“Doing what?” Taeyong tries not to let irritation seep into his voice, poking at the cooking meat over the fire in front of him. “You didn’t do anything today besides lay around.”
Doyoung chooses not to answer. Taeyong takes that as a hint that his older brother isn’t planning to move from his spot, which leaves him to finish prepping dinner and helping their father with his nighttime routine. It’s not that he minds; he loves his father and brothers. But it’s hard to constantly be the dependable one- the reliable one who is expected to take orders and do them, regardless of his own desires or happiness. And deep down, he’s a people pleaser who just hates saying no.
It’s a simple life, being the middle son of a farmer in the outskirts of the kingdom of Corinthia in which they live, but not benefiting from. But for the most part, he’s okay. It’s just him, his two brothers, and their father against the harsh realities of life when you’re poor.
His eldest brother, Doyoung, would really be suited best for a life as a trust fund baby living in the innermost part of the city, enclosed in golden walls decorated with expensive paintings. He’s lazy and beautiful, with a sharp wit to him that Taeyong sometimes finds himself envious of. There’s such a softness to his older brother’s face, beautiful lines to his lanky body, and Doyoung certainly knows it. His beauty is paralleled only by his temper most of the time these days.
The youngest of the three, Mark, is so sweet it pains Taeyong to think of how unfair it is that he grows up in their poor household and can’t enjoy the simple pleasures most 16 year-olds engage in within their village, unburdened by financial woes. While not quite ethereal looking like Doyoung, he’s a nice looking enough that Taeyong is so sure will turn into a handsome young man in a couple of years.
And Taeyong, the middle son, doesn’t have much time to dwell on his looks or future. He’s too busy taking care of his family in the present. Sometimes he wonders though, what his life would be like if he were born into a different situation. Could he have been a devastatingly lovely boy too if only there was expendable income for frivolous things like fancy clothing and delicious smelling soaps? Could he have gone to an elite school and learned all sorts of things that are fun in theory, but never useful in practical life?
Drifting from his thoughts and satisfied with the state of their dinner, Taeyong softens when his eyes fall upon the man responsible for who he has become in reality, not some fantasy ideal version of himself he’s invented in his head.
“Dad, it’s dinner time. Hungry?”
His father looks up at him, perking up and following his voice. He doesn’t reply, and Taeyong pads over to where his father is sitting, hooking his arm in the crook of the other’s. He guides him over to the table, and gingerly sets him down.
Doyoung and Mark are already seated, helping themselves to a bowl each of the stew Taeyong has prepared.
They eat in silence, just the soft clinking of wooden cutlery echoing throughout the small living space.
Once finished, Mark helps Taeyong wash up and help their father into bed. He doesn’t dare ask his older brother to help wash dishes.
Taeyong slips an oversized cotton shirt over his head. He looks at himself in the lone mirror they own.
Small, Skinny body. Soft brown hair. A scar under his eye that he’s always been self conscious of, though can’t remember life without. His complexion is not particularly great. He’s always felt so plain, especially in comparison to Doyoung.
He climbs onto his own cot, glancing over at Doyoung for just a moment. He knows how difficult it’s been for him since their mother passed, Doyoung having been so attached to her. He tries to understand his brother’s bad moods and behavior, but he misses how things used to be - misses his older brother who used to be so affectionate towards him.
Sometimes it’s difficult even looking at his father, and Taeyong oftentimes lays in bed at night, contemplating how unfair this world truly is. Two years ago, their mother passed away from an ongoing sickness. There hadn’t been any money to properly treat her, and without her help around the farm, it became a nasty cyclical effect of never being able to finish their chores on the farm. Never being able to sell enough to make ends meet.
The death of their mother changed their once happy little family, and Taeyong believes when she died, his father did too in many ways.
He thinks how weird it is, to be so preoccupied with growing up, instead of just enjoying the carefree magic that comes with being a young child. How he wishes, still to this day, he could go back to those days instead of the harsh realities of adulthood.
It was not too long after that their father became blind, and suddenly their financial issues had become even worse.
They had lived a pretty simple life, but comfortable. Now, Taeyong is just hungry and tired, and fearful for his one remaining parent all of the time. If something were to happen to him, what would he and his two brothers do?
“Taeyong! ”
Oh. It’s him.
The brunette pauses from where he’s tending to the peony bushes in their garden, hands and knees filthy from the dirt. He wipes his hands off on the already soiled cotton pants and stands up, grateful for the sudden reprieve. Gardening is something he enjoys when he has some extra time outside of his daily chores, but it’s definitely hard work.
His eyes immediately soften and a smile forms faintly at the corners of his mouth.
Taeyong fingers at the delicate necklace he’s wearing, hands already victim to muscle memory of its presence around his neck.
Johnny is a nice boy - normal boy, and he’s always been kind to Taeyong.
And here he is, running towards him. Taeyong watches his long legs and thinks how painfully handsome Johnny’s become over the years to boot. 'Truly, too handsome for someone like me', thinks Taeyong to himself. He quickly dismisses the thought once Johnny is standing right in front of him, tall body so inviting to just reach over and embrace- but he doesn’t.
“Hi, Johnny. How are you?”
“Good. Haven’t seen you lately?” It’s a question more so than a statement, but not accusatory. Johnny pauses to scratch the back of his neck. “Missed you.” His voice sounds so genuine, and Taeyong beams.
“Yeah. Missed you too.” Taeyong feels the tips of his ears burn under his hair, feeling stupid since it isn’t like he and Johnny haven’t spent a decent amount of time tumbling in the sheets together, fooling around for the past two years without it ever really going much further than that.
Part of him is so, so terrified of being in love, having seen what heartbreak did to his father after the death of his mother. It’s a good thing in that case that Johnny doesn’t ever really appear to be interested in more than just screwing around.
“Uh.. yeah so. I was wondering if you would like to spend tomorrow evening together? I have some free time, and I wanted to check out that new market stall in town that’s selling food they brought in from the city.” Johnny smiles down at him. “And I know you've never in your life been able to resist sweets. They definitely will have sweets. My treat obviously.”
Taeyong laughs nervously. “No, no; you’re right. And I would love to spend time with you.”
“Great! I’ll come by tomorrow evening and we can head over together? You’ll be around?”
“Yes, I'll be around." Taeyong pauses and digs his foot into the dirt a little nervously before adding, “I can’t wait.”
“Okay then! I’ll see you tomorrow. I have to go, but I’m glad I found you and got to ask you.”
“Me too. Truly!”
Johnny flashes him one last smile and turns away, heading back towards home. Taeyong feels like an idiot, but what harm can there be in being an idiot when someone makes you feel that good in their presence?
Taeyong decides it’s time to head back inside once the sky dims from pastel blue to bright orange. He pushes a lock of brown hair out of his sweaty face and enters, eyeing Doyoung, who is sitting on the floor, writing in a journal.
When Doyoung hears him enter, he quickly snaps the journal shut and and turns around.
“I’m hungry. When are you making food?”
Doyoung is so ridiculous it’s unbelievable sometimes. A grown man who either is so averse to doing anything for himself, or just entirely incapable of doing so. Taeyong’s not really sure which of the two it is.
“You know,” Taeyong begins, “you could easily make something for yourself.” He shucks off his ratty boots and begins stripping out of his dirtied shirt from his time working in the garden, heading towards their shared sleeping area.
Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Sure. But, I can’t do it as well as you, so what’s the point?”
Taeyong doesn’t bother responding. It’s easier to just ignore his brother when he’s in a mood- which these days, is pretty frequent.
All he really wants to do right now is wash up, crawl into bed feeling clean, and fantasize about how he’s going to spend tomorrow with Johnny. Does Johnny just want to spend some time together hanging around in the market square? Or does he want to spend time more intimately ? Taeyong isn’t sure which of the two he wants, but makes a mental note to ensure he looks presentable and to make sure his favorite baby blue shirt is nice and clean.
Doyoung doesn’t give up that easily though and peaks around the corner of the room. “Tae, dad wants soup tonight.”
“Okay, okay. You’ve made your point!” Taeyong grumbles with his back to his brother, flicking the water nozzle on in their shared sink so he can start scrubbing at his dirty face. “Can you just leave me alone for like a minute to freshen up, and I’ll get started?”
Doyoung leaves him be, and Taeyong flops on the cot after he’s spent a satisfying amount of time cleaning his sweaty body. He just wants some time to himself, free from dealing with his bitchy brother and free from worrying over any household responsibilities. He thumbs at the drawstring of his pants, and lets his hand travel over his bare lower stomach. His fingers trace the edges of a very visible hip bone, body hungry and worn out.
The brunette closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in the damp air of the room. A few moments seemingly turn into minutes, before he forces himself up.
“Just get through dinner, and you can sleep all you want tonight and tomorrow, no matter how much Doyoung complains about wanting breakfast ,” he mumbles to himself, slipping on a fresh, white linen shirt.
A promise to himself he definitely intends to keep. Doyoung can scramble his own fucking eggs.
When he walks out to the kitchen area, Mark and his father are sitting next to one another, discussing a potential job opportunity for Mark and Taeyong prays it will end up working out because any additional income would be certainly welcome.
“Hey, Mark. Hey, Dad.”
“Yong, you going to make dinner tonight?” Mark’s wide eyes look up at him.
“Yep. Don't I always? Heard dad wanted soup? That okay with you, Dad?” His father nods, small smile gracing the corners of his mouth. He turns back to Mark, while Taeyong begins getting to work.
Mark mouths a quick, “Thank you,” before re-engaging in conversation with their father.
There’s a couple of potatoes that Taeyong estimates have about three days left to be eaten before they begin to rot, so he pulls them from the cupboard and places them on the wooden countertop, wiping each down with a wet rag.
He hums to himself a little. It’s a good thing he is not only good at cooking, but enjoys it too, for as often as he does it around here.
After cutting the potatoes up and dumping them into an iron pot, Taeyong add several other ingredients. As soon as he places it on the stove, their home begins to fill with delicious smells of butter and herbs cooking together. It makes his hungry stomach growl in anticipation.
As soon as he walks over to sit at the table next to Mark, planning to drift off and day dream a bit while waiting for the soup to cook, there are several loud knocks on their front door.
Each of the three brothers glance at one another in confusion at who could possibly be wanting something from them at this time of the night. Secretly, Taeyong hopes it’s Johnny, come to whisk him away for the night and make him feel good and kiss him all over. That’s always a really nice feeling. He feels stupid and needy, knowing it’s probably not Johnny. It's definitely not Johnny when the knocks grow in increasing pace and loudness.
After thirty seconds of nobody answering the door, the person on the other side begins pounding against the door much harder.
“Open this door now, under order of Corinthian Law."
Yep, definitely not Johnny. Not anyone they'd want to make a visit to their home that's for sure.
Taeyong, too scared to make a move and heart beating rapidly in his chest so hard he thinks it might burst, freezes. Totally unable to move. What on earth could this possibly be about - it must be some kind of mistake? They don't have any money, but are also certainly not criminals.
Never one to fear basically anyone, Doyoung gets up and opens the door with a nasty look on his face in confusion, hissing, “What on earth are you talking -”
Taeyong watches in what feels like slow motion spilling into infinity as Doyoung’s lovely face is backhanded by a large man, his lanky body suddenly splayed out on the floor. He winces as the cracking noise from the blow echoes throughout their home against mind numbing silence. Taeyong rushes to him, holding Doyoung’s face, now reddened with embarrassment.
“You.” the man points at their father. “You owe a great deal of money to the government, sir.”
Mark shoots up, blocking his father from the man’s view. “Huh? Do you see where we live? We haven't been borrowing any money!” Taeyong loves his little brother, but he really, really wishes that Mark would learn to keep his mouth shut at completely inappropriate times.
The man laughs.
“You only have this dump because of a loan from the government that has yet to have a single cent paid back towards it.”
Taeyong feels sick. That can’t possibly be true.
He suddenly finds his voice that seemed to be so lost within his increasingly dry throat. “Sir, I’m sorry, but that has to be a misunderstanding. My parents have had this house for over twenty years.”
The man turns his attention towards Taeyong, who shrinks slightly at his imposing presence. “No. Your stupid father defaulted on the bank loan for the house years ago. He was given a second chance, but never paid anything back to creditors.”
Suddenly, the man is flanked by two additional men, all bearing the same royal seal on their chest plates.
“You have three options,” he begins.
“One. He goes to prison until the rest of you can finish paying off the original loan plus interest”. The man juts his finger towards their father. The thought of that makes Taeyong feel sick - that absolutely would not be an option. He suddenly finds himself wondering what their likelihood of success would be were he and his brothers to try taking the other three men on.
Probability of zero, is what he comes up with.
“Two. You forfeit ownership of all items in your possession. Including this place. We reclaim the property altogether and liquidate it.” That is also out of the question, considering they would have nowhere to live.
“Three. One of you gives your life in service to the crown, living at court and doing what you’re told when needed. It’s your lucky day considering the king and queen have been down in staff for some time, and are willing to extend this option.”
None of the options are good. But really, option number three is the only one that Taeyong could fathom not leading to immediate doom of his father and brothers’ lives. He would sacrifice anything to keep them safe and under a roof.
Without even consulting them, he perks up “I’ll go.”
Their captor nods. “Wise choice. If you do well and behave yourself, the crown may even deem you fit to visit your family after a few years.”
'Wow. What a generous offer!'
“A few years? How long exactly will it take for the debt to be repaid?”
“That’s not up to my discretion. That’s just the way it is. You’ll find out more details when you arrive.”
Taeyong shrinks. A few years - and that’s if they deem him okay to travel home. How much longer would his already heartbroken father last? Long enough for him to get out of this? How sad it would be to miss the next several years watching Mark grow up or witnessing Doyoung get his shit together and potentially start a family? He suddenly feels a strong sense of guilt, worried this could be the last straw for his father’s well being.
Doyoung deadpans, his face twisted in complete shock as he looks up at his younger brother from where he's still laying on the floor.
“Taeyongie... You cannot be serious?” There is an unusual softness to his older brother’s voice.
“What choice do we have?” Taeyong looks up at his older brother, willing himself to not cry. He’s such a crybaby. “He can’t go to prison - he will die! ” Taeyong motions to their father, looking small and limp in the corner of the room. He looks at him, for what could possibly be the last time and tries to memorize his face, albeit a face from a happier time in their lives. He erases a couple of lines that have been etched in his skin with age and stress and adds back a bit of spark to his eyes.
Mark pulls at Taeyong’s sleeve. “No, you can’t! What will happen to us? What will happen to you?”
“I don’t care what happens to me.”
It’s true. He doesn’t really.
Mark, now on the verge of tears, looks back and forth between his two older brothers.
Taeyong sighs softly and looks towards the three men blocking the door. He pulls Doyoung closely and whispers, “Can you please tell Johnny that I’m sorry?” He lets out a small laugh, “And for the love of god, Doyoung, learn to cook for yourself.” He should have known better. Anytime something fun or exciting comes into his life, it's always taken away and now he can't even enjoy a trip to the market with Johnny he'd been fantasizing about all evening.
Doyoung nods against Taeyong’s shoulder. “Yes, of course I will.”
Taeyong knows his brother is aware of Johnny, just perhaps not to the extent his affection towards the man goes. But a message through Doyoung will have to do as he will likely never see his lovely Johnny again in this lifetime. For the millionth time this week, Taeyong broods over how completely unfair everything is.
“We’re taking you in then. Thank you for your swift cooperation.” The man’s voice breaks the silence in the room, and Taeyong from his thoughts about Johnny.
He knows if he lingers too long, he won’t be able to force himself to leave. He’s too freaked out at the moment to even contemplate what a life at the royal court could possibly be like. What kinds of awful, spoiled aristocratic bullshit he’s going to inevitably wind up entertaining at the sake of his own dignity.
“Okay. I’ll go. Can I just have a minute to take-”
“No. You don’t need to take anything. Everything you’d need will be provided to you upon arrival at court.”
He turns back to his family, tells them he loves them, and is whisked out the door.