The King Likes Men

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Fake his death? That sounded stupid. Why would anyone fake their death? "Fake my death? Why? Doesn't everyone already think I'm dead?"

"Well yeah," Jaehwan says, "but my father knows you're not, so does the ex-general and several people of the court. So they're not going to let you out. Like ever."

"So why fake my death?"

"Well my father wants you dead," Jaehwan explains, "The reason for that is because, one, you're the only one that the king actually wants and everyone in the palace court seems to know that. And two, apparently the king won't give up on you being dead until he finds a body. Thing is, I don't want to kill you and I also don't want to marry the king. So what I need is to get you back into the competition but there are guards all over this place. My dad is planning on killing you soon, I say we take advantage of that and get you out."

"So how are you planning on 'not killing me'?" Seokjin wonders.

Jaehwan ponders on that for a moment. "Okay, so maybe I don't really have much planned out," he admits, "but I'll think about it."

Seokjin gave him a wry glare. "Forgive me if I don't fully trust you yet," he says dryly.

Jaehwan gives him a weak smile. "Thought so." Jaehwan's smile fades as he turned away from him, sighing. "It's understandable. You must hate me after finding out how exactly I'm involved in this."

"No," Seokjin answers honestly.

"Good," he breathes. "Do you, um at least trust me enough to get you out of here?"

Seokjin thinks about that for a minute. "I guess that it's better to trust in you than to just sit around here and wait for someone to just show up and kill me. Although, you could be lying to me, trying to get me to trust you before you stab me in the throat or something."

Jaehwan looked less than amused. For a couple of seconds he rubs his eyes as if he were exhausted, then his hand goes down by his side and he turns to look at Seokjin directly in the eyes. "My words may not mean anything to you," he says, "but one day I hope you'll come to realize that I am the last person who would ever wish any harm to come to you."

There's a tormenting feeling in Seokjin's stomach. He doesn't say a word. He wanted to believe him, desperately. He honestly couldn't cope with the thought of him suddenly becoming one of his enemies. He's already fought with friends in this competition and even that wasn't pleasant in the slightest. Not something he wanted to necessarily repeat. Jaehwan seems to notice that he's not going to say anything and just stands up, stretching. "Well," he says in a sudden sing-song voice, "I should head back." He glances down at Seokjin. "You'll be fine on your own right?"

"Oh yeah," Seokjin scoffs, holding up his cuffed wrist, "I'll just be here if you need me."

"Really sorry about that by the way. They think you'd run."

"And they're absolutely right about that. Only I'm not suicidal so I'm staying put till there's an opening."

"I'd just like to remind you," Jaehwan adds, "that you're the one that asked to be taken hostage."

Seokjin shrugs. "Still better than being shot."

Jaehwan gives him that. "I'll think of something. As long as the king keeps moping then that'll buy us some time." He glances at the corner of the room, where a bag of clothes laid, Seokjin's bloody clothes. "Mind if I take that with me?" he asks, "It might work for something."

Scrunching his nose, Seokjin asks, "You're not going to do anything perverted with it, right?"

Looking aghast, Jaehwan's face turn red. "What the hell do you think I'm going to do with it?"