Keep Me Safe 1/3
Title: Keep Me Safe 1/3
Pairing: Changmin/Jaejoong, implied!Yunho/Junsu
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They aren't mine to own or protect.
Summary: I find Micky broken and bruised in the back of my car, and all I care about is keeping him safe from the masters who abused him.
Warnings: implied Underage!Smut, implied!abuse, implied!pedophilia, implied!bondage, implied!slavery.
Micky is 10 years old in this fic. All sex with him is only implied, and it is in the past. None of it happens in this story.
Day 1:
Warnings: implied Underage!Smut, abuse, pedophilia, bondage, slavery.
Micky is 10 years old in this fic. All sex with him is only implied, and it is in the past. None of it happens in this story.
“Changmin, fuck, Changmin.”
“Are you thinking about me while you’re masturbating? Gross, hyung.”
“Fuck off. Changmin.” I glance at the back seat of my car. It’s so dark, and a little after midnight, but there is a light from a building that is casting a pale blue glow over everything. Over the bundled form on my back seat. “Oh fuck Changmin there is something tied up in my car.”
“What?”
I turn around and whisper/hiss into my phone, “There is a kid tied up in the backseat of my car.”
“Dude, what the fuck are you smoking?”
“Nothing, oh my god, Changmin, what do I do?”
“First, you need to calm down. And second, um, push their ass out on the sidewalk and drive away.”
“I can’t do that. He-he looks hurt, and he’s tied up. Oh my god, I’m coming to your house right now.”
“The fuck you are! Go to your own place!”
“O-okay. Please, meet me there; I don’t know what to do.”
“I can’t believe you’re serious. There is a kid tied up in the backseat of your car?”
“Yes, damn it! That’s what I’ve been saying.”
“I’ll meet you at your place. Promise.”
“Fuck, thank you.” I toss one more look at the bundle and then start the car and peel away from the curve. I check my rearview mirror, constantly afraid someone is following me. Who the hell would throw a kid into a random person’s car? I thought my car had been locked, but I guess not. And what the hell? The kid was obviously unconscious and hurt. Why didn’t they take him to the hospital?
Why don’t you take him to the hospital?
I shake my head. I’ll see what Changmin says. He’s smarter and calmer than I am in situations like this. Not that I’ve done this; I can’t say that I’ve ever found a poor beaten kid in the back of my car before.
I pull into the parking lot too fast, break too soon, squeak the tires and finally slam into a spot, breath rasping roughly. I turn off the ignition, and again stare at the bundle in my backseat. Now it’s really dark, but the rough fabric over him is moving, so at least I know he’s alive.
“Fuck.” I clamber out of the car, and open the back seat.
Puffy bruised eyes meet mine, and then close with a whimper. My heart clenches in concern and I reach for him, whispering things I don’t remember. The ropes around his wrists and ankles fall, leaving burns and bruises behind. I get my hand under his body, lifting and he whimpers in pain. I hit my head on the door frame, curse and then turn, slamming the door with my foot. I carry him through the dark lot, to the door.
I bypass the elevator and go up two flights of stairs. My arms are aching when I reach the top. The bundle in my arms shivers and moans.
“Hang on. We’re almost there.”
He whimpers again.
As promised, Changmin is at my door, waiting. “Fuck, I can’t believe …what the actual fuck?”
I shake my head. “Inside. Get my keys. They’re in my pocket, and don’t grope me, you pervert.”
Changmin rolls his eyes, shoves his hands in my jeans pocket and grabs the keys. He uses them to unlock the door. He pushes it open and lets me go first.
I go right to my living room. Changmin turns on the light.
I lower the bundle to the couch. With careful movements, I pull the blanket away from the bruised face, breath catching again.
The boy has a wide face, round cheeks framed by long hair. His eyes are shut tightly, lips sucked into his mouth.
I touch his cheek gently and his eyes snap open, he gasps and then rolls, catching me by surprise. I can’t grab him fast enough and he falls to his knees, lowers his head to the ground, and then says, “Forgive me.”
I stare at him and then at Changmin, eyes wide.
The boy is naked and there are more cuts and bruises along his back and thighs. His small body quivers even more as the silence stretches.
I have no idea what to say.
“Um, hi,” I start.
Changmin snorts, but says nothing else.
I kneel next to the boy, reach out to touch him and then move my hand to my own knees. “You-you can sit up.”
The boy pushes up from the ground, kneeling like I am, sitting back on his feet. His head stays lowered.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
His lower lip is sucked into his mouth again, body shaking.
“Hey,” I say and sit, ducking my head to try to get him to look at me. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“M-micky.”
“Micky.”
He nods.
I reach for him, but again, I don’t touch him. “Will you look at me?”
His head rises, and his round eyes are terrified.
I pout at him and tilt my head. “Hi, Micky. My name is Jaejoong, and this is Changmin.”
His eyes move quickly to Changmin and then back to the floor. “Are-are you my new masters?”
“Masters?”
He quickly inhales and hugs himself. “I’m sorry, masters. I don’t look pretty. I’ll be better. Please don’t hurt me.”
“Oh, god, I would never hurt you.” I reach for him again. My fingers touch his arm and he flinches, and I jerk back. “Well, Micky. Let’s get you cleaned up. Can you stand up?”
He looks at me with such disbelief that it makes me smile. “Stand up?” he says, voice rising.
“Um, yeah. On your feet. Walking.”
“You’re going to let me walk?”
“How else do you get place to place?”
“I’m only allowed to crawl.”
“Fuck,” Changmin mutters and I shoot him a look.
I stand up and hold out my hand. “Come on. Take my hand. We’re going to get you cleaned up.”
The boy swallows and tentatively takes my hand. He’s weak, but stands up, swaying into me. I meet Changmin’s eyes and he hurries in front of me, down the hall to the bathroom. Micky and I move more slowly. He winces in pain.
“What’s wrong?” I ask and crouch in front of him. “Are you hurt?”
He lifts a thin shoulder in a shrug. His collarbones are jutting out. He’s so skinny.
“How old are you?”
“I … I don’t know.”
“You don’t …” I take a deep breath. “Okay. How old do you think you are?”
“O-one m-man said I couldn’t be more than ten.”
I nod. “You look like you’re ten. What year are you in school?”
“School?”
“Don’t you go to school?”
He shakes his head.
“Do you know your numbers? How to write and read?”
Micky nods. “A master taught me,” he says proudly.
I shake my head. “Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?”
“I’m okay. Just …”
“Let’s walk slow.”
He nods and squeezes my hand. I stand back up and we go slowly to the bathroom. Changmin is already there. Bubbles foam in my bathtub.
“I have bubble bath?” I say in surprise.
Changmin laughs. “Yeah. I found it under your sink.”
“Wow. Okay.” I pull Micky to the tub. “Go on. Get in.” He’s sucking at his lower lip again, and I steady him as he climbs in. He shivers from the warm water and collapses, bubbles flouncing up and over the edge.
He stammers an apology but both Changmin and I laugh. “It’s okay,” I said and rub his head. “Get clean. You can use anything here, okay? Call me if you need anything.”
“O-okay, master.”
I stiffen. “Don’t call me that. I am not your master.”
“Oh,” he whispers, and his face falls. “Too bad. You’re so nice.”
“Um, yeah, so … I’ll leave the door open.”
I push Changmin out the door and go to the kitchen, shaking uncontrollably. The freezer opens under my hand and I grab a bottle of something and take a few deep swallows. Changmin snatches the bottle from my hand for his own shot.
“Oh god, I wish I was smoking something right now and I just want to wake up in some stranger’s bed and throw up and go back to sleep and wish this is all just a dream.”
“Yeah. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I … I guess I should take him to the hospital. Or …”
“I think you should talk to him, find out more about him. He needs someone to be nice to him. And with as terrified as he was of you, think of him surrounded by doctors and nurses, or police officers.”
“Someone needs to find out where he’s from.”
Changmin raises an eyebrow. “Take him back to his master.”
I wince. “Of course not. Fuck, but if he goes to a hospital or the police-“
“He’d be put in foster care.”
“And not protected or anything. Whoever hurt him could come back.”
“So you’re going to take care of him?”
“I don’t know!”
“Master,” a soft voice wavers down the hall. “Um, I mean … um, … help.”
I twist and spin out of the kitchen, half sprinting to the bathroom. Micky is sitting, eyes squeezed shut, fingers gripping the edge of the tub.
“What’s wrong?”
“My eyes sting,” he whispers. “I …I …”
“You probably just got soap in them, hang on a second.” I grab a towel from the hook on the wall and kneel next to the tub. I put my arm around his shoulders and pull him toward the edge of the tub. He’s shivering, but doesn’t stop me from rubbing his eyes gently with the towel. Both of them are so swollen and bruised.
“What happened to you?” I whisper.
His cheeks go pink under the fading bruises. “I … I … Will you help me?”
“With what?”
Micky spreads his arms and gathers up a bunch of bubbles. “This is fun, but I … what else do I do?”
“Haven’t you ever taken a bath?”
Micky shakes his head. “Masters usually wash me or just have a servant hose me down.”
“Hose you … what the fuck?” I look at Changmin and he frowns.
With a sigh, I reach around Micky and take the shampoo. I show it to him, explain what it’s for, and make sure he can read the words on the bottle. I pour a little into my hand, and then a little into this hand, lather it in my hand and then touch his head. He flinches at first, but then smiles when I scratch his scalp. His smaller hands lift and join mine.
“Be careful,” I say, “and keep your head tilted back or you’re going to get soap in your eyes again.”
Micky tilts his head back, slim shoulders tense, collarbones jutting out. There are bruises everywhere. Fresh and old.
“Now duck under the water and rinse it out, but keep your eyes shut.”
Micky does as he’s told.
I meet Changmin’s eyes while the water sloshes around.
“I was going to leave,” Changmin says, “but I think I’ll stay. This is some serious shit.”
I nod. “Thank you for staying.”
Micky resurfaces with a gasp and bubbles go everywhere. Changmin’s lip twitches, and then mine do and I’m laughing, because Micky looks like a drowned wet kitten. I show him the conditioner next and shake a little when I show him body wash and tell him to make sure he cleans every nook and crevice.
Something rumbles through our conversation, and Micky blushes, sucking in his lower lip again.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes, mast-um-“
“You can call me Jaejoong, or you can call me hyung,” I say.
“Yes, Jaejoong-hyung. I’m sorry I’m hungry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I … I’m not supposed to be hungry.”
“In this house, you can be hungry, or sleepy, or angry, or happy, without getting in trouble, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll go make something to eat,” Changmin says.
I send him a grateful look and then turn back to the frail boy. “Now.” I reach into the tub and pull the plug out. “You need to rinse off, in the shower, so stand up.”
Micky is shaking, trying to stand up. He’s so weak and the warm water has done more than relax him. He sways and I put my hand on his side to keep him up. He grips my arm tightly, trying not to fall over. With a smile, I stand up to support him, and then lean around him to turn on the water for the shower.
“H-hyung?”
“What?”
“Thank you for being nice to me.”
My heart tightens, and through the lump in my throat, I say, “No problem, kid.”
My clothes get wet and the floor is wet, but Micky is rinsed off and clean and I make sure he’s stable before moving away from him. I peel off my wet shirt and let it land on the bathroom floor with a slurp. I grab my robe and turn back to him. He’s staring at me, eyes wide, mouth open, tongue along his lower lip.
“What?” I ask.
He swallows and says, “You’re hot.”
My eyes go wide, and my skin flushes, and his does too and he looks away and mutters an apology.
“Um, thanks.” I hold out the robe and he turns around and I wrap him up in it, easily pick up his light body and carry him from the room. He buries in the soft fabric and presses his wet hair to my chest.
Changmin is in the kitchen. Everything smells like cooking rice and kimchi. I’m not sure I can eat, but Micky seems very interested. I stand by Changmin and Micky watches him with wide eyes as he puts kimchi in a pot with water and adds spices to it and then tofu.
“Wow, it smells so good,” Micky says, squirming in my arms.
He may be light, but after awhile, my arms grow tired. I sit in a chair, but he clings to me, so I don’t move him to another chair like I was planning.
“Micky,” I say. “Where are you from?”
He looks up at me, confused. “What?”
“Where are you from? Where does your family live?”
Micky looks at Changmin and then back at me. “Family?”
“Yeah, mom, dad, brothers and sisters?”
“Oh, those. I don’t have those.”
I try a different tactic. “Where did you used to live?”
“With Master.”
“Master who? What’s his name?”
Micky shuts his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m not allowed to say his name.”
“Here you are. And he’s not here, so it’s okay for you to say his name here.”
Still unsure, Micky sucks in his lower lip and then says, “I … I shouldn’t. That’s telling, and if I tell, they’ll hurt me, and-“
I tighten my arms around him. “Okay, I won’t make you tell. Do you know where you lived?”
Micky shakes his head against my body. “In a really nice place. Like really big. But. In a city. Maybe.”
Changmin sets a bowl of rice and tofu kimchi in front of us. He holds out a fork for Micky and the boy grins so widely and takes it with a ‘thank you so much for letting me eat’ and starts devouring it.
“Wow, this is really spicy.”
“Jaejoong likes it spicy,” Changmin says.
“I like it, too!”
“Good.”
Changmin and I have a silent conversation over Micky’s head. I want to ask Micky more questions, but Changmin is right. We will let him sleep and relax and then tomorrow, we’ll find out more about him.
I’m exhausted. It’s almost three in the morning.
Micky eats about a third of the food in the bowl before stopping with a quiet moan.
“All done?” Changmin asks.
Micky nods. “Thank you. That is really good. I’m sorry I ate so much.”
I smile and press my face to his wet hair. “You didn’t eat too much. Come on. Are you ready for bed?”
Micky looks up at me and then his lashes lower, like there is disappointment or fear or a combination of both in his eyes.
I quickly add, “To sleep. Are you ready to sleep?”
It doesn’t seem to placate him though, and he nods again.
I meet Changmin’s eyes, but he’s just as confused as I am.
“Do you want me to stay?” Changmin asks.
“Please,” I say. I definitely don’t want to be alone with this boy.
Changmin nods.
Micky is shivering in my arms again. Unconsciously, I press a kiss to his head, and he flinches, almost like I slapped him. I don’t have an extra room, and I wonder if I should put him on the couch, but he clings to me desperately. I stand up and carry him to my bedroom.
“Why are you so scared?” I ask and lower him to my bed.
He doesn’t answer, probably can’t answer, and I release him, but he clings to me. I slowly pry him off my arm and whisper, “I need to put on different clothes. I’m not going anywhere.”
He lets me go, and curls in on himself.
Changmin hovers in the doorway and watches him cautiously as I take off my damp jeans and pull on a pair of sweats and a tank top. I find an oversized rocker t-shirt in my drawer and go over to Micky.
“Here. Put this on.”
He looks at me, so utterly confused and I smile and touch his bruised cheek softly. “You need to sleep in something.”
He ducks his head and slips the shirt over his head. It’s huge on him, and I’m not surprised, because it was huge on me.
“Should I sleep on the couch?” Changmin asks.
I look at him and then at the boy on my bed and I shake my head. “Just … should we …”
“Mast-master, hyung?”
I glance at Micky. The shirt hangs off one shoulder, collarbone exposed.
“Do-do I … Do I need to …”
“What?”
“Other masters always want a blowjob before sleep.”
Changmin makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. My cheeks heat as my ever-so helpful brain conjures up an image of those lips around a dick.
“No,” I say. “No. You don’t have to do anything like that here.”
“Oh.” He sounds almost disappointed, and then he looks up and says, “I don’t mind. I’m good at it and-“
“No,” I say even more forcefully.
He winces and looks down and mumbles an apology.
I give myself a forceful shake and look over at Changmin again. He nods and goes to my dresser to find his own clothes to sleep in.
Shaking, I climb into my bed and mess around with the covers until I’m under them, on my back, and I pull Micky next to me.
“You really don’t want me to suck you off?” he whispers.
I sigh. “Micky, what those other men made you do is wrong. You shouldn’t even know what a blowjob is at your age.”
“Oh.” He looks up at me. So lost and so confused. I pull him close and let him bury his face in my chest again.
The light goes off and Micky flinches. The bed dips, and Changmin climbs in next to him. My bed is small for one person, let alone three. Changmin turns and his arms go around both of us. Lips press against my forehead, and a calm voice whispers something about not worrying, that everything is going to be fine.
The boy between us is already asleep.
I tilt my head up and Changmin’s lips brush over mine before pressing into a firm kiss. He’s not usually one for displays of affection, but I take the comfort as it’s offered.
I don’t sleep for another hour or so, and I just doze, very aware of the boy in my arms. He squirms and dreams and his face scrunches up and little noises puff from his lips.
I finally sleep, but it’s short lived as the boy jerks and whimpers and his eyes snap open and my eyes snap open and he clings to my neck, half asleep but crying. I rub his back and whisper at him, soothe him awake until small scared eyes blink open and he sees me and he flinches and gasps and cries harder. I hold him tightly until he falls asleep again.
It’s dawn, and I know I won’t sleep. Not at all. I keep my vigil on the boy until Changmin wakes up, groggily and stiff.
Our eyes meet, he sort of grins, but it’s more of a grimace, and without saying anything, he climbs out of bed. His morning erection is tenting his borrowed sweatpants.
Micky shifts and presses closer to me.
And I’m glad that I can say that my erection is from Changmin sporting wood and shirtless and sleep-rumpled.
---
Micky takes delight in the simplest things. He’s so surprised when I let him watch TV and when Changmin brings him fruit and milk for breakfast. And he’s even more surprised when Changmin says he’ll go out and buy him some clothes, because Micky has never owned clothes, and only wore clothes when his masters dressed him in skirts and panties.
Through the morning, I try to get an idea of what he went through, but I don’t really want to know. My suspicions are bad enough. But he says enough that I know he’s not a virgin and all he knows is sex and pain. It’s wrong and despicable, the casual way he talks of sex. I barely knew what my penis was when I was ten.
Changmin returns with two pairs of pants and four shirts and a pack of underwear. And two pairs of shoes.
Micky is so confused when I show him how to put it all on, and he spends the day uncomfortable and twisting even though everything fits him.
Changmin has to go to work, and I call in sick.
We watch TV all day long, curled up on the couch, with his thin arms either around my neck or around my shoulders or on my leg. He laughs at certain shows, embarrassed and happy. He says over and over again that he’s never watched TV like this, that all the TV he has seen has naked people having sex.
“Can we watch some of that, too?” he asks, innocent eyes wide.
“No. That’s porn and … yeah, but no. We are not watching that.”
“Porn,” Micky says and nods his head. “That’s what it’s called.”
Changmin comes back at about seven, and he has a bag full of kids’ books and toys. He rubs his neck as Micky stares wide-eyed at it all.
“This is for me?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you, Changmin-hyung.” Micky goes to him, on his knees and rubs his face on Changmin’s crotch before Changmin can move away.
“Hey, now, none of that. Just say thank you.”
Micky bites his lip and looks up at Changmin and then at me. “You really don’t want me to give you blowjobs?”
“No. You don’t have to do anything like that,” I say. “Just say thank you.”
Micky puts his head down.
Changmin hastily moves into the kitchen. “Are we eating in again, or-“
I rise from the couch and touch Micky’s shoulders. “Read the books. It’s okay.”
“Okay.” He moves back to the couch, and then he sits down, hands between his knees, head lowered.
I sigh and go into the kitchen. “I need to get out of here,” I whisper. “Will you watch him? I’ll pick something up for dinner.”
Changmin nods.
Before I can leave, he hooks his arm around my neck and pulls me to him for a short deep kiss. I’m dazed when he releases me and turns away. My lips curl into a smile and I lick the taste of him from my mouth.
“So yeah. I’ll uh, be back.”
I go into my room and put my phone in my pocket, followed by my wallet. I grab a hoody and go back into the living room. Micky is curled up on his side, a book open in front of him. His lips are moving as he reads.
“I’ll be back,” I say. “Changmin is going to stay here with you.”
Micky’s head shoots up and he frowns. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, I’m not mad. I’m going to the store to get some dinner.”
“Oh.”
“What’s the matter?”
He shakes his head, but mutters, “I can’t do anything right.”
I kneel in front of him and grip his chin in my fingers. His eyes are shut, lips sucked into his mouth.
“You have done nothing wrong,” I whisper. “Nothing. Do you understand? Whoever did this to you, whoever made you their slave and kept you as a pet, they are the ones that are wrong. You have done nothing wrong.”
He throws his arms around my neck and says, “I’m sorry. Please. I don’t know what you want, and I can’t be a good boy if you don’t tell me what you want.”
I hug him tightly. “You are not to do anything or offer anything sexual to us, okay? That’s the only thing that you have to stop doing. Read the books, okay? And watch TV and play.”
Micky pulls back, chewing on his lower lip. His eyes shift to the side, he leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips, blushing.
I stare at him, blinking for a moment, and then say, “You can’t do that either.”
“Oh.”
“Here,” I say and point to my cheek. “You can kiss me right here, and nowhere else.”
He looks up at me and nods and kisses my cheek.
“Now, I’ll be back in about a half hour. If you have any questions, ask Changmin.”
He nods, and I let him kiss my cheek again.
Shaking, I stand up and ruffle his hair. I meet Changmin’s eyes for a minute, chest thumping, and then go out in the hall, inhaling quickly, leaning against the wall.
Fuck. I am in so over my head. I think about calling the police again, and shake it off. Not yet. Not … not now. I grip the railing tightly as I go down the stairs, feet unsteady. As soon as I’m in the parking lot, I light a much needed cigarette, inhaling deeply, breathing out as my nerves calm.
I unlock my car and open my door when I see something on the windshield. I contemplate ignoring it since the day has not been full of any fun surprises. With a sigh, I reach over and snag it.
Kim Jaejoong-shi
You have something that belongs to me, and I want it back.
Do not call the police, or I will kill it.
“FUCK!”
I slam my car door and scramble back inside and up the stairs. I barrel through the apartment door, and Micky jerks in surprise. He and Changmin are sitting on the couch with a book open on their laps.
“What’s wrong?” Changmin says.
I gasp and motion him to me with the note.
Changmin rises and comes over. I hand him the note.
“I think it’s time to call the police,” Changmin whispers.
Day 2: Helped
.
Pairing: Changmin/Jaejoong, implied!Yunho/Junsu
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They aren't mine to own or protect.
Summary: I find Micky broken and bruised in the back of my car, and all I care about is keeping him safe from the masters who abused him.
Warnings: implied Underage!Smut, implied!abuse, implied!pedophilia, implied!bondage, implied!slavery.
Micky is 10 years old in this fic. All sex with him is only implied, and it is in the past. None of it happens in this story.
Day 1:
Warnings: implied Underage!Smut, abuse, pedophilia, bondage, slavery.
Micky is 10 years old in this fic. All sex with him is only implied, and it is in the past. None of it happens in this story.
“Changmin, fuck, Changmin.”
“Are you thinking about me while you’re masturbating? Gross, hyung.”
“Fuck off. Changmin.” I glance at the back seat of my car. It’s so dark, and a little after midnight, but there is a light from a building that is casting a pale blue glow over everything. Over the bundled form on my back seat. “Oh fuck Changmin there is something tied up in my car.”
“What?”
I turn around and whisper/hiss into my phone, “There is a kid tied up in the backseat of my car.”
“Dude, what the fuck are you smoking?”
“Nothing, oh my god, Changmin, what do I do?”
“First, you need to calm down. And second, um, push their ass out on the sidewalk and drive away.”
“I can’t do that. He-he looks hurt, and he’s tied up. Oh my god, I’m coming to your house right now.”
“The fuck you are! Go to your own place!”
“O-okay. Please, meet me there; I don’t know what to do.”
“I can’t believe you’re serious. There is a kid tied up in the backseat of your car?”
“Yes, damn it! That’s what I’ve been saying.”
“I’ll meet you at your place. Promise.”
“Fuck, thank you.” I toss one more look at the bundle and then start the car and peel away from the curve. I check my rearview mirror, constantly afraid someone is following me. Who the hell would throw a kid into a random person’s car? I thought my car had been locked, but I guess not. And what the hell? The kid was obviously unconscious and hurt. Why didn’t they take him to the hospital?
Why don’t you take him to the hospital?
I shake my head. I’ll see what Changmin says. He’s smarter and calmer than I am in situations like this. Not that I’ve done this; I can’t say that I’ve ever found a poor beaten kid in the back of my car before.
I pull into the parking lot too fast, break too soon, squeak the tires and finally slam into a spot, breath rasping roughly. I turn off the ignition, and again stare at the bundle in my backseat. Now it’s really dark, but the rough fabric over him is moving, so at least I know he’s alive.
“Fuck.” I clamber out of the car, and open the back seat.
Puffy bruised eyes meet mine, and then close with a whimper. My heart clenches in concern and I reach for him, whispering things I don’t remember. The ropes around his wrists and ankles fall, leaving burns and bruises behind. I get my hand under his body, lifting and he whimpers in pain. I hit my head on the door frame, curse and then turn, slamming the door with my foot. I carry him through the dark lot, to the door.
I bypass the elevator and go up two flights of stairs. My arms are aching when I reach the top. The bundle in my arms shivers and moans.
“Hang on. We’re almost there.”
He whimpers again.
As promised, Changmin is at my door, waiting. “Fuck, I can’t believe …what the actual fuck?”
I shake my head. “Inside. Get my keys. They’re in my pocket, and don’t grope me, you pervert.”
Changmin rolls his eyes, shoves his hands in my jeans pocket and grabs the keys. He uses them to unlock the door. He pushes it open and lets me go first.
I go right to my living room. Changmin turns on the light.
I lower the bundle to the couch. With careful movements, I pull the blanket away from the bruised face, breath catching again.
The boy has a wide face, round cheeks framed by long hair. His eyes are shut tightly, lips sucked into his mouth.
I touch his cheek gently and his eyes snap open, he gasps and then rolls, catching me by surprise. I can’t grab him fast enough and he falls to his knees, lowers his head to the ground, and then says, “Forgive me.”
I stare at him and then at Changmin, eyes wide.
The boy is naked and there are more cuts and bruises along his back and thighs. His small body quivers even more as the silence stretches.
I have no idea what to say.
“Um, hi,” I start.
Changmin snorts, but says nothing else.
I kneel next to the boy, reach out to touch him and then move my hand to my own knees. “You-you can sit up.”
The boy pushes up from the ground, kneeling like I am, sitting back on his feet. His head stays lowered.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
His lower lip is sucked into his mouth again, body shaking.
“Hey,” I say and sit, ducking my head to try to get him to look at me. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“M-micky.”
“Micky.”
He nods.
I reach for him, but again, I don’t touch him. “Will you look at me?”
His head rises, and his round eyes are terrified.
I pout at him and tilt my head. “Hi, Micky. My name is Jaejoong, and this is Changmin.”
His eyes move quickly to Changmin and then back to the floor. “Are-are you my new masters?”
“Masters?”
He quickly inhales and hugs himself. “I’m sorry, masters. I don’t look pretty. I’ll be better. Please don’t hurt me.”
“Oh, god, I would never hurt you.” I reach for him again. My fingers touch his arm and he flinches, and I jerk back. “Well, Micky. Let’s get you cleaned up. Can you stand up?”
He looks at me with such disbelief that it makes me smile. “Stand up?” he says, voice rising.
“Um, yeah. On your feet. Walking.”
“You’re going to let me walk?”
“How else do you get place to place?”
“I’m only allowed to crawl.”
“Fuck,” Changmin mutters and I shoot him a look.
I stand up and hold out my hand. “Come on. Take my hand. We’re going to get you cleaned up.”
The boy swallows and tentatively takes my hand. He’s weak, but stands up, swaying into me. I meet Changmin’s eyes and he hurries in front of me, down the hall to the bathroom. Micky and I move more slowly. He winces in pain.
“What’s wrong?” I ask and crouch in front of him. “Are you hurt?”
He lifts a thin shoulder in a shrug. His collarbones are jutting out. He’s so skinny.
“How old are you?”
“I … I don’t know.”
“You don’t …” I take a deep breath. “Okay. How old do you think you are?”
“O-one m-man said I couldn’t be more than ten.”
I nod. “You look like you’re ten. What year are you in school?”
“School?”
“Don’t you go to school?”
He shakes his head.
“Do you know your numbers? How to write and read?”
Micky nods. “A master taught me,” he says proudly.
I shake my head. “Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?”
“I’m okay. Just …”
“Let’s walk slow.”
He nods and squeezes my hand. I stand back up and we go slowly to the bathroom. Changmin is already there. Bubbles foam in my bathtub.
“I have bubble bath?” I say in surprise.
Changmin laughs. “Yeah. I found it under your sink.”
“Wow. Okay.” I pull Micky to the tub. “Go on. Get in.” He’s sucking at his lower lip again, and I steady him as he climbs in. He shivers from the warm water and collapses, bubbles flouncing up and over the edge.
He stammers an apology but both Changmin and I laugh. “It’s okay,” I said and rub his head. “Get clean. You can use anything here, okay? Call me if you need anything.”
“O-okay, master.”
I stiffen. “Don’t call me that. I am not your master.”
“Oh,” he whispers, and his face falls. “Too bad. You’re so nice.”
“Um, yeah, so … I’ll leave the door open.”
I push Changmin out the door and go to the kitchen, shaking uncontrollably. The freezer opens under my hand and I grab a bottle of something and take a few deep swallows. Changmin snatches the bottle from my hand for his own shot.
“Oh god, I wish I was smoking something right now and I just want to wake up in some stranger’s bed and throw up and go back to sleep and wish this is all just a dream.”
“Yeah. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I … I guess I should take him to the hospital. Or …”
“I think you should talk to him, find out more about him. He needs someone to be nice to him. And with as terrified as he was of you, think of him surrounded by doctors and nurses, or police officers.”
“Someone needs to find out where he’s from.”
Changmin raises an eyebrow. “Take him back to his master.”
I wince. “Of course not. Fuck, but if he goes to a hospital or the police-“
“He’d be put in foster care.”
“And not protected or anything. Whoever hurt him could come back.”
“So you’re going to take care of him?”
“I don’t know!”
“Master,” a soft voice wavers down the hall. “Um, I mean … um, … help.”
I twist and spin out of the kitchen, half sprinting to the bathroom. Micky is sitting, eyes squeezed shut, fingers gripping the edge of the tub.
“What’s wrong?”
“My eyes sting,” he whispers. “I …I …”
“You probably just got soap in them, hang on a second.” I grab a towel from the hook on the wall and kneel next to the tub. I put my arm around his shoulders and pull him toward the edge of the tub. He’s shivering, but doesn’t stop me from rubbing his eyes gently with the towel. Both of them are so swollen and bruised.
“What happened to you?” I whisper.
His cheeks go pink under the fading bruises. “I … I … Will you help me?”
“With what?”
Micky spreads his arms and gathers up a bunch of bubbles. “This is fun, but I … what else do I do?”
“Haven’t you ever taken a bath?”
Micky shakes his head. “Masters usually wash me or just have a servant hose me down.”
“Hose you … what the fuck?” I look at Changmin and he frowns.
With a sigh, I reach around Micky and take the shampoo. I show it to him, explain what it’s for, and make sure he can read the words on the bottle. I pour a little into my hand, and then a little into this hand, lather it in my hand and then touch his head. He flinches at first, but then smiles when I scratch his scalp. His smaller hands lift and join mine.
“Be careful,” I say, “and keep your head tilted back or you’re going to get soap in your eyes again.”
Micky tilts his head back, slim shoulders tense, collarbones jutting out. There are bruises everywhere. Fresh and old.
“Now duck under the water and rinse it out, but keep your eyes shut.”
Micky does as he’s told.
I meet Changmin’s eyes while the water sloshes around.
“I was going to leave,” Changmin says, “but I think I’ll stay. This is some serious shit.”
I nod. “Thank you for staying.”
Micky resurfaces with a gasp and bubbles go everywhere. Changmin’s lip twitches, and then mine do and I’m laughing, because Micky looks like a drowned wet kitten. I show him the conditioner next and shake a little when I show him body wash and tell him to make sure he cleans every nook and crevice.
Something rumbles through our conversation, and Micky blushes, sucking in his lower lip again.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes, mast-um-“
“You can call me Jaejoong, or you can call me hyung,” I say.
“Yes, Jaejoong-hyung. I’m sorry I’m hungry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I … I’m not supposed to be hungry.”
“In this house, you can be hungry, or sleepy, or angry, or happy, without getting in trouble, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll go make something to eat,” Changmin says.
I send him a grateful look and then turn back to the frail boy. “Now.” I reach into the tub and pull the plug out. “You need to rinse off, in the shower, so stand up.”
Micky is shaking, trying to stand up. He’s so weak and the warm water has done more than relax him. He sways and I put my hand on his side to keep him up. He grips my arm tightly, trying not to fall over. With a smile, I stand up to support him, and then lean around him to turn on the water for the shower.
“H-hyung?”
“What?”
“Thank you for being nice to me.”
My heart tightens, and through the lump in my throat, I say, “No problem, kid.”
My clothes get wet and the floor is wet, but Micky is rinsed off and clean and I make sure he’s stable before moving away from him. I peel off my wet shirt and let it land on the bathroom floor with a slurp. I grab my robe and turn back to him. He’s staring at me, eyes wide, mouth open, tongue along his lower lip.
“What?” I ask.
He swallows and says, “You’re hot.”
My eyes go wide, and my skin flushes, and his does too and he looks away and mutters an apology.
“Um, thanks.” I hold out the robe and he turns around and I wrap him up in it, easily pick up his light body and carry him from the room. He buries in the soft fabric and presses his wet hair to my chest.
Changmin is in the kitchen. Everything smells like cooking rice and kimchi. I’m not sure I can eat, but Micky seems very interested. I stand by Changmin and Micky watches him with wide eyes as he puts kimchi in a pot with water and adds spices to it and then tofu.
“Wow, it smells so good,” Micky says, squirming in my arms.
He may be light, but after awhile, my arms grow tired. I sit in a chair, but he clings to me, so I don’t move him to another chair like I was planning.
“Micky,” I say. “Where are you from?”
He looks up at me, confused. “What?”
“Where are you from? Where does your family live?”
Micky looks at Changmin and then back at me. “Family?”
“Yeah, mom, dad, brothers and sisters?”
“Oh, those. I don’t have those.”
I try a different tactic. “Where did you used to live?”
“With Master.”
“Master who? What’s his name?”
Micky shuts his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m not allowed to say his name.”
“Here you are. And he’s not here, so it’s okay for you to say his name here.”
Still unsure, Micky sucks in his lower lip and then says, “I … I shouldn’t. That’s telling, and if I tell, they’ll hurt me, and-“
I tighten my arms around him. “Okay, I won’t make you tell. Do you know where you lived?”
Micky shakes his head against my body. “In a really nice place. Like really big. But. In a city. Maybe.”
Changmin sets a bowl of rice and tofu kimchi in front of us. He holds out a fork for Micky and the boy grins so widely and takes it with a ‘thank you so much for letting me eat’ and starts devouring it.
“Wow, this is really spicy.”
“Jaejoong likes it spicy,” Changmin says.
“I like it, too!”
“Good.”
Changmin and I have a silent conversation over Micky’s head. I want to ask Micky more questions, but Changmin is right. We will let him sleep and relax and then tomorrow, we’ll find out more about him.
I’m exhausted. It’s almost three in the morning.
Micky eats about a third of the food in the bowl before stopping with a quiet moan.
“All done?” Changmin asks.
Micky nods. “Thank you. That is really good. I’m sorry I ate so much.”
I smile and press my face to his wet hair. “You didn’t eat too much. Come on. Are you ready for bed?”
Micky looks up at me and then his lashes lower, like there is disappointment or fear or a combination of both in his eyes.
I quickly add, “To sleep. Are you ready to sleep?”
It doesn’t seem to placate him though, and he nods again.
I meet Changmin’s eyes, but he’s just as confused as I am.
“Do you want me to stay?” Changmin asks.
“Please,” I say. I definitely don’t want to be alone with this boy.
Changmin nods.
Micky is shivering in my arms again. Unconsciously, I press a kiss to his head, and he flinches, almost like I slapped him. I don’t have an extra room, and I wonder if I should put him on the couch, but he clings to me desperately. I stand up and carry him to my bedroom.
“Why are you so scared?” I ask and lower him to my bed.
He doesn’t answer, probably can’t answer, and I release him, but he clings to me. I slowly pry him off my arm and whisper, “I need to put on different clothes. I’m not going anywhere.”
He lets me go, and curls in on himself.
Changmin hovers in the doorway and watches him cautiously as I take off my damp jeans and pull on a pair of sweats and a tank top. I find an oversized rocker t-shirt in my drawer and go over to Micky.
“Here. Put this on.”
He looks at me, so utterly confused and I smile and touch his bruised cheek softly. “You need to sleep in something.”
He ducks his head and slips the shirt over his head. It’s huge on him, and I’m not surprised, because it was huge on me.
“Should I sleep on the couch?” Changmin asks.
I look at him and then at the boy on my bed and I shake my head. “Just … should we …”
“Mast-master, hyung?”
I glance at Micky. The shirt hangs off one shoulder, collarbone exposed.
“Do-do I … Do I need to …”
“What?”
“Other masters always want a blowjob before sleep.”
Changmin makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. My cheeks heat as my ever-so helpful brain conjures up an image of those lips around a dick.
“No,” I say. “No. You don’t have to do anything like that here.”
“Oh.” He sounds almost disappointed, and then he looks up and says, “I don’t mind. I’m good at it and-“
“No,” I say even more forcefully.
He winces and looks down and mumbles an apology.
I give myself a forceful shake and look over at Changmin again. He nods and goes to my dresser to find his own clothes to sleep in.
Shaking, I climb into my bed and mess around with the covers until I’m under them, on my back, and I pull Micky next to me.
“You really don’t want me to suck you off?” he whispers.
I sigh. “Micky, what those other men made you do is wrong. You shouldn’t even know what a blowjob is at your age.”
“Oh.” He looks up at me. So lost and so confused. I pull him close and let him bury his face in my chest again.
The light goes off and Micky flinches. The bed dips, and Changmin climbs in next to him. My bed is small for one person, let alone three. Changmin turns and his arms go around both of us. Lips press against my forehead, and a calm voice whispers something about not worrying, that everything is going to be fine.
The boy between us is already asleep.
I tilt my head up and Changmin’s lips brush over mine before pressing into a firm kiss. He’s not usually one for displays of affection, but I take the comfort as it’s offered.
I don’t sleep for another hour or so, and I just doze, very aware of the boy in my arms. He squirms and dreams and his face scrunches up and little noises puff from his lips.
I finally sleep, but it’s short lived as the boy jerks and whimpers and his eyes snap open and my eyes snap open and he clings to my neck, half asleep but crying. I rub his back and whisper at him, soothe him awake until small scared eyes blink open and he sees me and he flinches and gasps and cries harder. I hold him tightly until he falls asleep again.
It’s dawn, and I know I won’t sleep. Not at all. I keep my vigil on the boy until Changmin wakes up, groggily and stiff.
Our eyes meet, he sort of grins, but it’s more of a grimace, and without saying anything, he climbs out of bed. His morning erection is tenting his borrowed sweatpants.
Micky shifts and presses closer to me.
And I’m glad that I can say that my erection is from Changmin sporting wood and shirtless and sleep-rumpled.
---
Micky takes delight in the simplest things. He’s so surprised when I let him watch TV and when Changmin brings him fruit and milk for breakfast. And he’s even more surprised when Changmin says he’ll go out and buy him some clothes, because Micky has never owned clothes, and only wore clothes when his masters dressed him in skirts and panties.
Through the morning, I try to get an idea of what he went through, but I don’t really want to know. My suspicions are bad enough. But he says enough that I know he’s not a virgin and all he knows is sex and pain. It’s wrong and despicable, the casual way he talks of sex. I barely knew what my penis was when I was ten.
Changmin returns with two pairs of pants and four shirts and a pack of underwear. And two pairs of shoes.
Micky is so confused when I show him how to put it all on, and he spends the day uncomfortable and twisting even though everything fits him.
Changmin has to go to work, and I call in sick.
We watch TV all day long, curled up on the couch, with his thin arms either around my neck or around my shoulders or on my leg. He laughs at certain shows, embarrassed and happy. He says over and over again that he’s never watched TV like this, that all the TV he has seen has naked people having sex.
“Can we watch some of that, too?” he asks, innocent eyes wide.
“No. That’s porn and … yeah, but no. We are not watching that.”
“Porn,” Micky says and nods his head. “That’s what it’s called.”
Changmin comes back at about seven, and he has a bag full of kids’ books and toys. He rubs his neck as Micky stares wide-eyed at it all.
“This is for me?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you, Changmin-hyung.” Micky goes to him, on his knees and rubs his face on Changmin’s crotch before Changmin can move away.
“Hey, now, none of that. Just say thank you.”
Micky bites his lip and looks up at Changmin and then at me. “You really don’t want me to give you blowjobs?”
“No. You don’t have to do anything like that,” I say. “Just say thank you.”
Micky puts his head down.
Changmin hastily moves into the kitchen. “Are we eating in again, or-“
I rise from the couch and touch Micky’s shoulders. “Read the books. It’s okay.”
“Okay.” He moves back to the couch, and then he sits down, hands between his knees, head lowered.
I sigh and go into the kitchen. “I need to get out of here,” I whisper. “Will you watch him? I’ll pick something up for dinner.”
Changmin nods.
Before I can leave, he hooks his arm around my neck and pulls me to him for a short deep kiss. I’m dazed when he releases me and turns away. My lips curl into a smile and I lick the taste of him from my mouth.
“So yeah. I’ll uh, be back.”
I go into my room and put my phone in my pocket, followed by my wallet. I grab a hoody and go back into the living room. Micky is curled up on his side, a book open in front of him. His lips are moving as he reads.
“I’ll be back,” I say. “Changmin is going to stay here with you.”
Micky’s head shoots up and he frowns. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, I’m not mad. I’m going to the store to get some dinner.”
“Oh.”
“What’s the matter?”
He shakes his head, but mutters, “I can’t do anything right.”
I kneel in front of him and grip his chin in my fingers. His eyes are shut, lips sucked into his mouth.
“You have done nothing wrong,” I whisper. “Nothing. Do you understand? Whoever did this to you, whoever made you their slave and kept you as a pet, they are the ones that are wrong. You have done nothing wrong.”
He throws his arms around my neck and says, “I’m sorry. Please. I don’t know what you want, and I can’t be a good boy if you don’t tell me what you want.”
I hug him tightly. “You are not to do anything or offer anything sexual to us, okay? That’s the only thing that you have to stop doing. Read the books, okay? And watch TV and play.”
Micky pulls back, chewing on his lower lip. His eyes shift to the side, he leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips, blushing.
I stare at him, blinking for a moment, and then say, “You can’t do that either.”
“Oh.”
“Here,” I say and point to my cheek. “You can kiss me right here, and nowhere else.”
He looks up at me and nods and kisses my cheek.
“Now, I’ll be back in about a half hour. If you have any questions, ask Changmin.”
He nods, and I let him kiss my cheek again.
Shaking, I stand up and ruffle his hair. I meet Changmin’s eyes for a minute, chest thumping, and then go out in the hall, inhaling quickly, leaning against the wall.
Fuck. I am in so over my head. I think about calling the police again, and shake it off. Not yet. Not … not now. I grip the railing tightly as I go down the stairs, feet unsteady. As soon as I’m in the parking lot, I light a much needed cigarette, inhaling deeply, breathing out as my nerves calm.
I unlock my car and open my door when I see something on the windshield. I contemplate ignoring it since the day has not been full of any fun surprises. With a sigh, I reach over and snag it.
Kim Jaejoong-shi
You have something that belongs to me, and I want it back.
Do not call the police, or I will kill it.
“FUCK!”
I slam my car door and scramble back inside and up the stairs. I barrel through the apartment door, and Micky jerks in surprise. He and Changmin are sitting on the couch with a book open on their laps.
“What’s wrong?” Changmin says.
I gasp and motion him to me with the note.
Changmin rises and comes over. I hand him the note.
“I think it’s time to call the police,” Changmin whispers.
Day 2: Helped
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