I feel like I've been so productive the last few days. I've written chapters 25 and 26, all within a couple days. Considering how long it takes me sometimes, I'm incredibly happy with that.

Time skip cause we've seen enough of their domestic life and we've seen enough build up.

Guess who's story reached 2 thousand reads? Guess who's over the moon and back again?

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Yixing's POV

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~four months later~

"It's next week," Zitao pointed out. "And you'd yet to actually get fitted for your suit? You're lucky you guys seem to have a tailor close at hand." I couldn't think of a snarky come back for that one, so I just remained silent, watching as every part of me was measured. "Won't I need one too?" he suddenly asked. "Since I'm your best man?"

"Yes, you will," I told him calmly. "You'll be fitted once I'm done. As for why it hasn't happened until now, I guess I just lost track of time. Four months was an incredibly short time to try and put this thing together. But we did it, somehow." It still baffled me exactly how we'd done it, but we had. The reception had been the easy part. It was to be held in the palace's grand ballroom. The actual wedding ceremony had been tricky, but we'd eventually decided to put our private stretch of beach to good use. Besides, who didn't like a seaside wedding? And since only about fifty people would be present at the actual ceremony (not including everyone watching from home since the whole thing would be filmed from start to finish) it was perfect.

"I still can't believe you're going through with it at all," Zitao mumbled. I shot him a withering look. Not now. Not when other people could hear. "But I am happy for you man. Don't think I'm not. You're just awfully young."

"Says the guy one year younger than I," I shot back. But I quieted down when my tailor glanced up sharply. "It was mandatory anyway," I told him. "There was no way I could take over without a wife."

"Then Junmyeon is doing it backwards, hmm?" he said. "Since he took over before he found a wife." I was about to say it really wasn't his fault, but then I realized it was probably my fault, so I didn't end up saying anything at all while I mulled that over. I knew for a fact he'd been hesitant because of his lingering feelings. He'd told me so himself. "Uh oh, His Majesty grows quiet," Zitao said. "Don't overwork that brain of yours. It's too fragile for that."

"Do you ever slow down?" I asked, glancing at the ceiling to keep from strangling him. I honestly forgot how snarky he could be. "Whatever. It's almost your turn, so be prepared."

"Is Luhan going to be a part of the wedding at all?" he asked me, completely ignoring what I'd just said. "Or is it just me and Yu Yan?" Yu Yan was Ying Yue's maid-of-honor of sorts. She was also a lovely girl.

"Luhan is going to usher," I said. "But it's not a big party, and it's not a big wedding. At least it's not a big ceremony. It's going to be broadcast so people can see it." And I'd wanted it small on purpose. Not everyone had to be present for the ceremony, save a few important ones. Obviously family. Certain overseas dignitaries. "Be lucky you get to be a part of it at all," I told him. "I almost decided not to."

"I feel so special," he deadpanned. "Really Xing, you sure know how to make a fellow feel warm and fuzzy." I rolled my eyes at his blatant sarcasm. "Why don't you want the special day to be shared?" he inquired.

"Because it's my special day," I told him, stepping away from the tailor and motioning him forward. "And Ying Yue's special day. It's nice to share it, but you also have to remember I've shared every part of my life so far, even if I didn't want to. This is one thing I don't want everyone and their mother at. Only the ones that really matter."

"Even if it's going to be televised?" Zitao asked. I sighed, sinking heavily into a chair across from him. Nothing could ever really be mine, could it? Not when I was the prince of the country. And one day my children would face the same problems. "I didn't mean it like that," he added softly, sensing he struck a nerve. "It's just... You know everyone's going to see it anyway. It's been the most talked about event for a month."

"I know, Tao. I know," I mumbled. "Doesn't stop me from wishing I could turn the cameras off and have just one special moment with her with my fifty important people present." Zitao's gaze turned sympathetic as he looked at me in the mirror in front of him. "But, it is what it is. From birth, I knew this was how it would always be. Every move I make will be monitored. All of my milestones documented. My life on full display for all to see."

"Maybe I don't wish to be a prince after all," Zitao said, his gaze fixed on a point in front of him. "My father may be rich and powerful, but at least I can duck out of the limelight if I want to." Being a prince was great, don't get me wrong. I got to travel all over the globe, experiencing new cultures and seeing new sights. I got to see a lot of powerful people, and make friends with them. I lived in a palace where every want or need was fulfilled in seconds.

But in some aspects, being a prince was also kind if lonely. I was the highest authority in the land, and people put me on a pedestal with no way of getting down. People my age typically spent time with friends and family, traversing through the city. I spent my free time studying and training. I had friends, but a lot of them were lesser royalty (or weren't royalty at all in Tao's case) and they, too, would hold me to a high esteem. Let me tell you, it was lonely at the top.

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Junmyeon's POV

...

I sighed, raking my fingers through my hair, sitting back in my seat. I'd been finding it hard to concentrate all morning. I turned to my bulletin board beside my desk, scanning everything I'd deemed important. A picture of Baekhyun and I, squished together to both fit in the frame. A selfie Hyeja took of the two of us when I kissed her cheek. A photo of Luhan and Yixing when they were younger, lying side by side in Yixing's giant bed. A photo of mother and father. And there, in the center, the invite to Yixing's wedding.

"Seven more days, huh?" I mumbled to myself, swiveling in my chair. I opened the top drawer of my desk, a drawer no one but me could access. I pulled out the drawer's contents. A letter and a couple pictures. "You're not the same little boy anymore," I whispered, smoothing the letter out on my desk. I spread the photos around it, biting my lower lip. "Why won't these feelings go away Xing?"

I kept these to myself, even if they were the most important to me. The letter Yixing wrote when we were nothing sixteen. The "anonymous tip" photo of Yixing and I sleeping together in his room. And a photo I'd snapped of him his last day here, at a time when he'd been smiling sort of wistfully at me. A smile that radiated warmth and love. And undoubtedly the last time I'd ever see that smile directed my way. So I wanted to document it. And maybe it was for entirely selfish reasons. Maybe it was entirely because I always wanted his smile like that directed at me.

"Jun?" I glanced up to see father framed in the doorway. I hastily put my things away, locking the door for safe keeping. "Why the long face son? I've noticed you've been very out of it the last few days." He stepped inside the small space, closing the door behind him. He stood in front of my desk, his gaze sweeping left and right. It rested on the elaborate invite in the center of my board. "Are you ready for the Chinese Prince's wedding?" he asked.

"I guess," I said, ruffling my hair. "It's still kind of hard to believe he's really going to be married next week." Father hummed thoughtfully. I was afraid of saying too much, so I contented myself with gazing at my photos as well. As always, my stare lingered on the one of Yixing and Luhan, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

"How's Hyeja doing?" father suddenly asked, pulling me from my thoughts. My focus shifted to the selfie of us, me with my eyes closed and her with a big grin. My smile turned fond as I stared at it. "I haven't seen her for a few days," father continued.

"She's been on a business trip," I explained. "What, you don't like seeing your son-in-law." I chuckled at his expression. "I kid of course," I added. "You have to admit though, I almost got you there." And that was all he'd ever get. He wouldn't understand how close to home that joke really was. He wouldn't get that it was, at one point, a very real possibility. But then I risked being even more alienated from my parents than I already was, and I risked the very position I was in now.

"I like Baekhyun," father said at last. "However, I hope you realize that soon he's not going to be your main focus. You can remain friends of course. There's nothing wrong with that. But Hyeja should be coming first." Every word he said had me sinking lower and lower in my seat, unable to bear the weight on my shoulders.

I was trying. So fucking hard. Hyeja held my attention almost always. As soon as she walked in a room, my focus was on her, making sure she felt special and loved. But at the same time, I'd already pushed Baekhyun away once, almost to the point of he wouldn't return. It took until very recently to earn his trust back, and I was terrified of losing him again. I needed that companionship, that feeling of always having someone to turn to. I needed his wild flame to my dull spark. I needed him in my life, almost as much as I needed Hyeja. So I had to find a balance to keep them both happy.

"Dear." We both turned as a third voice joined the conversation. "That's enough," mother told father calmly. "Junmyeon knows what he's doing. Trust him, alright?" But even that failed to lift my spirits. Because I really didn't know what I was doing. "Is everything all set for next week?" she asked me. I took a deep, somewhat labored breath.

"Yes," I answered. "Arrangements have been made, a gift has been bought, and my party has been contacted." The only ones coming with me this time would be Hyeja and Baekhyun. I pushed for mother and father to come too, but mother simply said they'd watch the televised ceremony. This was my thing. "Are you sure you don't want to go?" I asked.

"Very sure," mother replied. "The invite was addressed specifically to you. This is Yixing's wedding after all. And he's your friend, not ours." I bit my lip and averted my gaze. Right. A friend. From now on, that was all he'd ever be. "May I talk to Junmyeon alone?" mother asked father, who grumbled a reply and padded out of the room. After a few moments, mother turned to me. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Of course," I lied. "Why wouldn't I be? Yixing's getting married next week. One of my best friends is getting married next week..." And my throat promptly closed, rendering me incapable of mumbling another thing. I fixed my gaze on a center point on my desk. Mother sighed above me.

"You know..." she began.

"Yes," I interrupted before she could get any farther. "I do know. This was how it had to be. In any other scenario, in any other universe, the outcome would always be this. I know that. But let me tell you mother. It hurts. It's like there's a dull ache in my chest at all times and it won't ever go away. I have to watch my first love marry someone else and pretend to be happy about it. But I will smile and act like I'm not breaking down inside because I know this was how it was always was meant to be." I finally stopped to take a breath, neither of us daring to say anything first.

"Junnie, I..." she began, then paused. "I had no idea it was like that. Why didn't you say anything?" I laughed without humor, my gaze shooting to the side to study my memories again.

"Because," I said. "It's not okay for me to be close to him. It's not okay for me to like him as anything but a friend. It's not okay for me to love him. Marry a nice girl, have a few kids, and keep yourself in check. That's what you always taught me, right? That's how good little kings behave."

"Jun..." The sadness in her eyes was damn near enough to drive me to tears. But instead I rose abruptly, pushing passed her into the hallway. A few maids started at my sudden entrance, then bowed quickly. I strode by, refusing to wear my emotions on the surface again. It was time to man the fuck up and move on. Yixing was never mine to begin with, and I was only being delusional if I thought anything else.

...

I was stuck for so long at the suit fitting part and then all of a sudden wam! Inspiration.