Playing For Keeps [2/2]
Title: Playing For Keeps
Authors: scorch66 and cease11
Pairing/Group: Junno/Kame (aka KameNo aka Lame2), a healthy dose of KAT-TUN with cameos by NEWS and Yamapi (Johnny's Entertainment)
Rating: T for tease PG-13
Warnings: crack gone semi-serious, fairytale AU, humour of the shameless variety, implications of… adult activities, cross-dressing, undressing, death threats galore, too many implied pairings to keep track of, fandom in-jokes
Notes: Written for 2013 Devil or Angel challenge with the super lovely and talented scorch66 (together we are: Team Banana and Potato Minions!) for the prompt Pear. Originally posted Here. Based loosely on The Master Thief, Brothers Grimm variant. Enjoy!
Summary: Hide your daughters (and sons), Taguchi Junnosuke is the infamous Flash, master thief extraordinaire capable of stealing more than your precious gems, but also your hearts. Meanwhile, in the kingdom where things are oft’ pear-shaped, King Kamenashi is convinced that the Flash is after his crown jewels (the precious gem kind) and plots to put an end to this threat once and for all. Little does the King realise that it is not just his jewels (at least not the precious gems kind) that the Flash is interested in.
Part 1
After donning his beard and handing over Advisor Nakamaru’s intolerable underpants-the King sniffing at his hand and warning him against breaking into his Lavender oil stash ever again-Taguchi had thought that King Kamenashi’s spirits would have been lifted; and indeed they were. For several following days, the King randomly broke out into song as he strode through the corridors of the castle, sometimes even skipping when no one but his faithful manservant was around to bear witness.
He no longer complained about the temperature of his bath or the cut of his clothes, and when Taguchi had tripped over his own feet at the sight of the King rolling out of bed-for Taguchi had long since learned that the King preferred to sleep in the nude but had yet to grow accustomed to facing such a temptation so early in the morning-and had dropped the parcel of sweets sent as a gift from Masuda the bread maker, the King had smiled sweetly, a hand at his naked hip, and said, “Are you always so clumsy? Feel free to help yourself to what you like.”
There had been a spark of suggestion in the King’s eyes but Taguchi was neither bold nor sure enough to have not mistaken it as a trick of the morning sunlight. What was more disconcerting, yet wonderfully so, was that the King welcomed Taguchi’s massages with praises that spilled past his lips as moans.
Towelling the Lavender-scented massage oil from his hands, Taguchi wondered why he hadn’t thought to steal Nakamaru’s underpants before. It was doing wonders for everyone; even Nakamaru himself had entered a more laidback disposition after switching to green. It seemed that red underpants had a bizarre effect on the King, much like a red dotted flag waved in front of a bull.
Sir Koki, who had accompanied them during a visit to the city where the King emptied his coin pouch to the poor and even deigned to lend advice on eyebrow care and the proper way to flick one’s hair without looking ludicrous, had noticed the change and had said to Taguchi, “Whatever you’re doing to him, keep it up.” He had then added with a self-conscious cough, “Or I’ll kill you.”
Unfortunately, however, the perky mood did not last long.
The King’s chambers now tidy, the bed covers rolled back and the pillows fluffed like feather-stuffed soufflés, ready to lull the King’s happy little head to sleep, Taguchi went in search for said King who, now that he recalled with a worried frown, hadn’t returned from his evening stroll in the pear tree garden.
The hunt proved to be short for a booming voice singing the Nashi Kingdom’s anthem in drunken accents led him straight to the expansive dining hall where Taguchi easily spotted the King sitting sloppily in the head chair, Sir Koki and Advisor Nakamaru fretting over him.
“Kame-chan, I think you’ve had enough-”
“Nonsense!” The King batted away the confiscating hands and took another angry swig from his gold chalice. “I’m your kind. King! King is what I meant. Can have what error I want... Ever!”
When Sir Koki tried to remove the jug of ale from the table, the King quickly grabbed a nearby pastry and in a fit of drunken resourcefulness, flung it at his most trusted Knight.
“There! I’ve slain you!” The King crowed victoriously, pointing at the smear of red jelly that had stained Sir Koki’s armour just above his breast. Taguchi bit down on his lip hard as his old friend hung his head with a sigh. Someone needed rescuing.
“Your bed is ready, your grace,” Taguchi said to announce his presence and tiptoed his way around the food and broken dishware strewn across the floor, thinking himself lucky for avoiding most of the chaos. Whatever tantrum the King had entered had by now trickled down to a drunken rebellion. Or so he thought.
“You!” The King punctuated his shout with a burp that echoed through the hall and, in his sober state, would no doubt make him blush. “Stay where you are. Someone fetch him my balls.”
“Err…” said Sir Koki in remarkable eloquence as Advisor Nakamaru stood dumbstruck.
“I think he means the juggling balls,” Taguchi supplied helpfully, more than a little amused.
The King looked at them scornfully. “Of course that’s what I mean. What are you all? Drunk?”
Everyone wisely held their tongues as King Kamenashi took another long sip and swayed dangerously in his seat. His cape hung askew, sliding off his shoulder and tugging down his shirt to expose a smooth shoulder and the delicate dip of his collar bone. His crown, however, sat perfectly straight atop hair that curled in every direction. Taguchi fought back a desire to scoop him up into his arms.
“My court jester is a bore,” was the King’s explanation once Taguchi found himself being handed three rubber balls and a whispered apology by Nakamaru. The King flopped backward in his chair, kicking his feet onto the table, and said with an imperious slur, “Enter me, Junno.”
There was a resounding clatter as Sir Koki dropped his helmet and they all watched it disappear under the table.
Taguchi couldn’t suppress his wide smile. “I take it you mean entertain, your grace. It would be my humble pleasure.”
A few minutes of juggling and the initial awe began to fade. The King’s attention, unfocused as it was in his inebriated state, shifted to harassing Advisor Nakamaru by throwing rolls of bread at his head while jeering, “I know you like them buns!” Nakamaru valiantly bore the onslaught with grim determination.
“Why did the carriage tip over?” Taguchi asked suddenly amidst his juggling. As he had desired, the King’s eyes skittered back to him, albeit more vehemently than expected.
“It was the Flash’s doing,” the King hissed, his drunken lisp dampening the venom in his voice.
Taguchi should have seen that one coming. He smiled brightly and shook his head while executing a skilled toss, catching the balls behind his back as he bowed.
“The carriage was two-tired, your grace.”
It took only a moment for the words to sink in and Taguchi was notified of when by a bellowing chortle. Taguchi smiled adoringly at the King as he hiccupped and clapped, a bundle of exuberance shaking in his seat while his Advisor and Knight watched on incredulously.
“That was funny…?” they asked each other and sent exasperated glances at the King’s back.
Such a lively reaction was new for Taguchi too, whose puns were usually met with a pained silence or a violent retort. More than once he had heard his admirers comment that he would make the perfect lover as long as he only opened his mouth to smile silently.
Taguchi drank in the King’s unadulterated amusement with an irrepressible grin of his own and continued juggling. “Your grace, I wonder if you know who the roundest knight in Prince Shige’s court was?”
“I don’t,” the King replied with a childish pout that contrasted the anticipation shining in his eyes.
“Sir Cumference.”
This resulted in another howl of laughter and twin face-palms.
“What happens when a clock goes hungry?” Taguchi continued, the King’s giddy amusement fueling a balloon in his chest so that he nearly floated above the ground. “It goes back for seconds.”
“Genius!” the King shouted as he rolled off his chair, his Advisor and Knight mumbling lame under breath.
The King’s humour was so tickled by Taguchi’s puns that he didn’t notice Nakamaru and Koki sneaking the jugs of ale out of the room, Nakamaru smacking the back of Koki’s head when he dared to steal a sip. With no more alcohol within the King’s reach, Taguchi found himself facing another obstacle on his mission to tuck the King into bed.
“I don’t think the vase returns your affections, your grace,” Taguchi commented with no little amusement. The King had wrapped himself around one of the large marble vases that decorated the corners of the dining hall and continued to stroke his cheek against it lovingly.
At Taguchi’s words, the King pulled back slightly and looked up with wide eyes brimming with hurt. His lips wobbled as he asked, “Really? Why not?”
Taguchi clenched his fists, restraining himself from leaning in for a kiss. He doubted the King would remember anything under the throbbing headache he was sure to suffer tomorrow and Taguchi would rather have their first kiss engraved in the King’s memory. For now, he was willing to settle for a confession. He would need the practice for when the real moment arrived.
Crouching down on his haunches, Taguchi ran a hand down the King’s back and smiled. “The vase knows you’re already taken. It’s a very noble vase, you see.”
“Oh?” The King blinked back at the vase with renewed fascination. “What’s its name?”
“Vase… line. Vaseline,” Taguchi answered.
“That’s a pretty name.” The King placed a chaste, albeit sloppy, kiss on Vaseline’s fair marble before glancing back at Taguchi. “But I’m not taken. Still here in my castle.”
Taguchi nodded. “Yes, you are. In the dining hall when you should be in bed. Come, let me take you to your chambers, my grace.”
“I’m not a child,” the King said with a child-like sulk. “I have a crown.”
“A very pretty crown,” Taguchi spoke softly, “and Vaseline is a very pretty… maiden. It would not bode well for her to be seen with you like this at so late an hour.”
Slowly, the King’s limbs loosened, releasing the vase and he hesitated for only a moment before grabbing the hand Taguchi held out for him. The King tripped as he rose, falling against Taguchi in a drunken sway and Taguchi used the moment to inhale the King’s sweet scent, somehow managing to resist wrapping him in a tight embrace.
“You’re much too dangerous like this,” Taguchi whispered as the King looked on obliviously and, a heartbeat later, proved his words just by accidentally knocking over the vase. A moment of silence was dedicated to the broken remains of Vaseline’s demise before Taguchi noticed the wetness of the King’s eyes and quickly led him out of the hall.
They managed to weave through the corridors with little fuss but as they arrived at the doors of the King’s chambers, the King refused to budge. Taguchi raised his eyebrows in inquiry.
“I need to freshen up,” the King explained with a tiny hiccup.
“Of course, your grace,” Taguchi smiled, “but my hand-it’s still in your possession.”
“… And? You can accompany me.”
The King spoke with an easy finality, as if entering the bathing quarters with his manservant in the middle of the night was no cause for alarm and required not the least discretion. Taguchi himself would think twice if the King showed any… adult intentions-for Taguchi was not at all interested in taking advantage of a lush-but the King’s face was almost frighteningly transparent.
Taguchi lifted a hand to gently move aside the tuft of brown curls that had fallen into the King’s innocent eyes. “As you wish.”
When the King came down to the dining hall the next morning, after being force fed a herbal concoction to ward away his headache, he froze at the sight of broken shards of marble that still littered the floor.
“That was a gift from Emperor Kimura…” The King spoke in a voice that betrayed his dismay and he heatedly accosted Advisor Nakamaru who, due to his constant misfortune, had chosen just that moment to enter the hall. “Who’s responsible for this?”
“I d-don’t know, y-your highness,” Nakamaru stuttered, connecting the King’s ire with the broken vase and looking around helplessly. Taguchi carefully averted his eyes before theirs could meet; as his sworn servant, it was Taguchi’s duty to protect the King from any harm-and that included the sting of embarrassment.
“Perhaps someone broke in,” Taguchi suggested, schooling his face into concern with great difficulty.
“Who could possibly-” The King’s eyes fogged up almost instantly. “The Flash. I’ll see if I don’t hang him for this.”
Oops, Taguchi thought.
It turned out that the King was equally passionate about Taguchi as Taguchi was about the King, only the type of passion differed.
“I hate him so much, I hope he rots in the gaol,” the King said viciously as they sat at the table in his room. The table was just next to a wide window that was swung open, allowing in the sunlight and occasional breeze that did nothing to cool the King’s temper from the morning.
Somewhere along his impressive rant-in both speech and stamina for they had been sitting for nearly an hour now-against the Flash, the King’s hand had found Taguchi’s and held it in a tight squeeze which Taguchi returned with a sympathetic nod.
Hearing death threats against his own name wasn’t half as disconcerting as Taguchi thought it would be. He rather quite enjoyed it.
“He is an awful nuisance, I agree,” Taguchi added.
The King snorted. “Nuisance. That isn’t the least of it. Can you believe he’s been stealing my Lavender oils? He practically reeks of it whenever I see him, that smiling smelly bastard. Strutting about with his disgustingly long legs like he owns the kingdom.”
“I have long legs,” Taguchi pointed out.
The King looked abashed for a moment before he cleared his throat and said with a snappy tone and pink cheeks. “Yes, but I quite like yours. Pay attention, Junno.”
“I assure you mine is undivided when it comes to you, your grace,” Taguchi returned smoothly, a satisfied smile stretching from ear to ear.
The King’s flush darkened and he pulled his hand away abruptly. “You’re always smiling, did you know? It’s unbecoming and I don’t find it attractive in the least so you might as well stop. I order you to stop. Stop.”
Taguchi managed to purse his lips only for a second before he burst out in an uncontrollable laugh.
“Disobeying a direct order from your king is enough to warrant imprisonment,” King Kamenashi said hotly, the sunlight igniting his brown curls into a golden flame.
“My most sincere apologies, your grace,” Taguchi replied with a peeping grin to which the King answered with an eye roll and an irrepressible smile of his own.
“Off with you. As punishment for you disobedience, go fetch me the juiciest pair from the garden.”
Taguchi bowed and left with a promise of a speedy return he didn’t intend to keep. Instead of heading directly to the gardens, he stopped by his personal chamber and changed into the guise of the Flash-which really just entailed a change of less clean clothes and his trusty false beard. With a quick look over in the mirror, Taguchi retraced his steps back to the King’s quarters and entered with a heralding knock.
“As promised, my King, I have come to receive my third task.”
The King, clearly startled by his unexpected visitor, jumped up from his seat… and pointedly stepped onto the foot stool when he remembered his disadvantaged height.
“How did you find your way through my castle?” he demanded.
“You may say I followed your scent. I would advise you against calling the guards, my king, for I would never harm you and certainly that is not my intention today.”
The King eyed him warily before strolling to his wing-backed armchair.
“I hope you remember that it is due to my kindness that you are now roaming free without chains,” the King said coolly and crossed his legs. “I have a pressing meeting to attend so I will keep it short.”
Taguchi, who knew that the King had no such meeting scheduled for the day, grinned under his beard. “Of course, my king.”
The King frowned. “You know, Flash, I find you quite annoying. Your wretched smile is enough to sour my mood.”
“I take it your highness isn’t fond of smiles,” Taguchi said with another smile and was surprised to see a sudden softness fall across the King’s face.
“Not so, there are some I am rather partial to…” Taguchi followed the King’s gaze to the jacket of the manservant uniform he had left behind and felt his heart skip. The King’s eyes snapped back to him shortly. “Sorry, I guess it’s just you then.”
“My misfortune makes my heart bleed,” Taguchi said solemnly as his heart danced a jig in his breast cavity.
“I’m sure it does,” the King replied, unconvinced, before a smirk cut across his face. “Now, let’s arrive at our business. I’ve had quite some difficulty in finding a candidate capable of withstanding your trickery, but I believe I have thought of just the one. Your third task, my tiresome Flash, is for you to find Sakura and lay her at my feet.”
“Sakura?” Taguchi asked.
“Yes, just so,” the King answered airily with a vindictive gleam in his eyes. “I believe you’ve encountered many such beauties in your life of crime, but Sakura truly is one of a kind. I hope she may abandon her purity by piercing you straight through the heart.”
With the mortifying belief that the King had instructed him to steal an unknown maiden’s virginity, Taguchi had no one to turn to except Yamashita. He met the man for the third time at the back of a tavern that, as shady as it was, was by far not the worst the city had to offer.
Yamashita appeared through the back door clad in his work attire. He adjusted the artificial moulds of his breasts as Taguchi explained his quest to find a lady by the name of Sakura, and flicked a lock of his sandy blond wig with a huff.
“Well, now I’m offended. After turning me down, you ask me to direct you to some hussy?” Yamashita eyed him narrowly. “I thought you were more into wands than cauldrons?”
“That’s a creative way to put it,” Taguchi replied sheepishly, fighting down his blush. In truth, even despite his leanings, he had no intention to bed anyone other than the King, be it for a task or not. He wondered too why the King would choose to punish him by such a method… unless the King knew he was a veritable wand-wielding wizard, but that was an unlikely case.
A more sensible explanation would be that Taguchi had misunderstood the King’s words for he had an unfortunate way of stating things-Taguchi recalled the King’s crown jewels and released a brief chuckle-and would thus have to speak to Sakura firsthand to discover the crux of the matter.
He said as much to Yamashita and waited for the man to run through his mental archive of names and acquaintances; in his field of business and with his looks, he was bound to have a lot. Ten minutes later and Taguchi learned that unfortunately, Sakura wasn’t one of them.
“Sorry, handsome,” Yamashita said and pecked him on the cheek. “If you’re in the mood for some consolation… Jeez, no need to shake your head like that! It’s bad for my vanity.”
“Sorry,” Taguchi mimicked with a small smile and Yamashita shoved at his back.
“That’s why you keep your heart out of it,” he advised. “Now get out of here. It’ll be terrible for business if I’m seen with you. You’re a tough act to follow, Bido.”
Taguchi grinned as Yamashita blew him a farewell kiss and strolled on into the night, arriving back at the castle not an hour later. He ran into Sir Koki just as he walked up the steps.
“There you are. Kame-chan’s been asking all around for you-” Koki broke off, squinting at his face. “Is that lipstick? Don’t tell me you’ve been getting your jollies on while I searched for you like a headless Nakamaru. Wait until Kame-chan hears about this!”
“Wait! No!” Taguchi scrambled to chase after the armoured figure. A frightened panic overtook him at the thought of the King being told that Taguchi was loose with his intimacy, for Taguchi knew that the King valued fidelity above all. “It’s a misunderstanding!”
“One that we’ll let Kame-chan sort out,” Koki shot back and when he turned down the corridor, Taguchi made a desperate grab for his arm and missed, his hand sliding down to the hilt of Koki’s sword.
Within a second, Taguchi found himself held up against the castle wall, Koki’s forearm held under his chin. Taguchi gaped at the sudden change in his oldest friend, from a kitten to a dragon with teeth bared and eyes glinting dangerously.
“Don’t you ever touch Sakura-chan,” Koki hissed before backing away and giving Taguchi room to breathe.
“S-sakura-chan?” Taguchi choked, rubbing at his sore throat as the mystery behind King Kamenashi’s instructions began to dissolve into clarity. “Is that what you’ve named your sword? A cherry blossom?”
Sir Koki, famous in all the land for his bark but never his bite, his sword never once tainted with bloodshed… Pure.
“What of it?” Koki growled menacingly in a way that failed to either hide his blush or intimidate.
“It’s a beautiful name,” Taguchi replied, a plot quickly forming in his mind. “In fact, I would love to meet Sakura-chan one on one. What do you say, Koki, let us end this cat and mouse game of ours once and for all in a duel.”
Koki regarded him for a long, silent moment that stank of suspicion.
“What game?”
Taguchi faltered, suddenly realising that, at the moment, Koki saw him as Junno, the King’s manservant, not his rival of old.
“The game of… thorns!” Taguchi blurted, the cogs in his mind turning at maximum speed. “As the King’s childhood friend, you must be peeved to witness our budding relationship-a prickly rose blossoming right under your nose. Why not let the bad feelings spill out into the open? Of course… if you’d rather back away from my challenge, I am all too underst-”
“Choose your weapon and meet me in the courtyard.”
“Very well,” Taguchi agreed, beaming. All one needed to tame a dog was but a bone to chew.
On his way back from the armoury, from where he had plucked a charming sword that was sturdy and light but not at all strong enough to withstand Sakura’s blows, Taguchi made a stop at the kitchens. There was no one about at this time of night and so he managed to slip a pastry into the breast pocket of his jacket with no trouble and little haste.
“Took your sweet time cowering in your boots, huh?” Koki taunted when Taguchi entered the courtyard at an easy pace.
“Pardon my tardiness. I trust you haven’t changed your mind in the meantime?”
Koki gave a scowl and unsheathed his sword with a flourish. Taguchi grinned at the showmanship that was usually so uncharacteristic of his friend and mimicked his actions, meeting Koki face to face in the centre of the courtyard.
“But first: a request,” Taguchi said. “Promise that the passing of this duel and the mark on my cheek will not reach our beloved King’s ears.”
“Why?” Koki demanded impatiently. “I won’t hoodwink my own King and you’d be a fool to think otherwise.”
“I commend your loyalty,” Taguchi said with an honest smile, “but I wouldn’t ask without a reason. I don’t wish to cause the King any distress and I’m afraid he would not be pleased with our duel. You know how he feels about such affairs with swords.”
“‘Prettier to look at than to wield like a barbarian’,” snorted Koki. “I’d bet my life that Nakamaru’s the one who’s been feeding him that rubbish. What about the lipstick?”
“A misunderstanding,” Taguchi said simply, “one that I will explain once I have your promise and my victory.”
“You wish,” Koki returned with a good-humoured smirk, “but fine. I give you my promise if that’s what it will take for you to swing your toothpick of a sword.”
“How very gracious. On the count of three, then…”
The moon shone above them, casting a spotlight for their match and lending their raised swords a silver glow. On the count of three, they moved swiftly, their swords meeting in a medley of clangs that rang through the night.
As he had expected, Koki was a first-class dueler, quick and smart with his sword despite the obstructing weight of his armour. There had been a time when Taguchi had mused himself to be in love with the Knight but the affection never grew past a strong, friendly adoration-which was just as well because Taguchi had discovered a strand of red hair clinging to Koki’s clothes just a few days prior. A strand that very much resembled the colour of one of Yamashita’s wigs.
As he dodged and parried, Taguchi wondered if Koki was aware of who Yamashita really was… below the deck, so to speak.
“So you’re not completely useless with a sword,” Koki noted as they fought. His forehead shone with beaded sweat that was minute compared to the sheen Taguchi had achieved. It was almost time; he wouldn’t last long now.
“Some would even call me an expert in that field,” Taguchi replied with a grin.
Taguchi was much slower, lacking the adeptness of a trained swordsman, and he noted how Koki took care to not to cut him. To be sure, Sakura came down strong and hard, but never close enough to graze his skin-at least not intentionally, for Taguchi saw Koki’s grimace when Sakura nicked the region of his jaw just next to his ear. Unyielding, but not merciless.
Just as Taguchi had expected.
“About earlier, Koki,” Taguchi began, “I lied. Sakura is a distasteful name for a sword just as hideous.”
Just as Koki lunged with a screech of “I’ll kill you!” Taguchi changed the angle of his wrist, allowing his sword to slip down easily under the brunt of Koki’s and giving Sakura a clear path to his chest. The tip of the blade just barely scratched his shirt but it was enough to tare the thin fabric and, more importantly, the pastry hidden inside.
With a shout of unbridled agony that would land him a lead role in any theatrical play, Taguchi stumbled backwards. Adding a drunken sway to his steps for authenticity, he fell backwards onto a patch of grass. He lay there gasping as his hand clutched at his chest which was now sticky with strawberry jam that must have looked gruesome under the moonlight.
Koki rushed towards him at once, dropping his sword and kneeling at Taguchi’s side with wide eyes that grew steadily misty.
“You’ve slain me,” Taguchi croaked, thoroughly enjoying his role.
“N-no, I couldn’t have,” Koki cried. “I didn’t mean to actually kill you!”
“Well, you have,” Taguchi moaned, “or will have if you don’t run for help.”
“I will! Right away! Now! Please don’t die, I think Kame-chan really likes you.”
As Koki rose and made to turn, Taguchi quickly grabbed Sakura from the ground and rolled away, jumping to his feet as Koki squawked in outrage.
“Sorry,” Taguchi yelled over his shoulder as he sprinted away, his long legs lending him the advantage in the chase around the castle until he finally shook of the kindest Knight in the kingdom.
And, if Koki kept his promise the way Taguchi knew he would for an oath was an oath be it uttered to a lord or a beggar, he would be the most pitifully noble knight, too. And Taguchi the luckiest thief.
King Kamenashi examined the sword laid at his feet with a critical eye.
“That was quick,” he commented, the displeasure evident in his puckered face. “I see you’re alive and well. Not even a limb missing.”
The King finding a confidante in his manservant, Taguchi knew that he had hoped the Flash would meet his end against Sakura’s blade. The King had either overestimated his Knight’s brutality or underestimated his compassion. Taguchi briefly considered confessing that he managed to get hold of Sakura by taking inspiration from the King, but decided to keep that piece of irony to himself.
“I’m touched by your kind-hearted concern,” Taguchi replied and bowed, feeling a twinge run along the muscles of his back from last night’s exertions. Seeing the King’s eyes narrow, a smug tilt to his lips, Taguchi realised that his wince didn’t go unnoticed.
“You hide it well but even the great Flash isn’t impervious to strain, I’m afraid. I must send Sir Koki a fruit basket.”
Taguchi scratched at his beard as it itched the cut hidden along his jaw. “You’ve caught me, my King. Last night was indeed rough but not all kinds of midnight strains are undesirable…”
The King gave a haughty sniff. “Spoken like a true masochist. I’m sure Koki had fun with you.”
Taguchi laughed. “Sir Koki is as much a sadist as Advisor Nakamaru is a nudist. And while I’m sure he would appreciate a basket of the kingdom’s finest pears, I’m persuaded to think that he would appreciate the return of his sword even more.”
The King’s face darkened so menacingly that Taguchi took a step back.
Eyebrows forming an inward ‘V’ over eyes darkened with ill intent and lips thinned into a severe line, Taguchi knew that this must be the King’s famous Pudding Glare. While some kings armed themselves with weapons and a bubble of guards, King Kamenashi could fell a foe with his eyes alone, the potent disdain held within them enough to shrivel the esteem of even the most egotistically bloated giant.
Taguchi himself was hard pressed not to succumb and curl up weeping in a corner, begging the gods mercy for his existence.
“You think I would betray my friend in such a way? By keeping from him his beloved Sakura?” the King spoke slowly, voice low and deep. Taguchi, in mortified fascination, felt his loins stir in response.
Now? Really, self? Taguchi thought silently while at the same time being unable to deny the deadly charms of a furious king with perfectly sculpted curls and a velveteen voice to match. Maybe Taguchi really was a masochist.
“Forgive me, my king. I meant no such thing; I should have known that a most honourable King such as yourself would return Sakura to her owner,” Taguchi said hurriedly once he had gotten his throat unstuck. Now was not the time to dawdle and bring attention to the swell in his pants. “If you would please, my king, since I balk at the thought of keeping you away from important matters any longer-my fourth task?”
The King visibly preened at the strewn compliments, his chest puffing outwards, and said, now mollified, “I am rather busy-kingly matters and all; tapestries to hang, eyebrows to pluck, onsens to visit... As such, you will come to me again in three days time while I prepare your final test.”
“I am at your beck and call,” Taguchi said with another bow before scurrying from the King’s chambers in an uncomfortable waddle and a hand held between his legs. It was fortunate that the King was currently distracted by other explanations for his stiffness.
The ache in his muscles intensified the next morning as Taguchi emptied another bucket of warm water into the large wooden basin. He rolled his shoulders and tried not to wince. Maybe he should have a hot bath himself to soak and relax his tired body.
“Umph,” came a muffled sound from the bed on the other side of the chambers. Taguchi turned in time to see his favourite human shaped lump roll across the sizeable mattress, the silk sheets sliding low to reveal sleep tossed dark hair and a sun-kissed shoulder. He knew now from experience that the King wasn’t wearing anything under the sheets.
Taguchi liked mornings like these, when the King didn’t have meetings or lessons or other responsibilities that required his presence first thing in the morning. On the rare occasions when Advisor Nakamaru allowed King Kamenashi a late start to his schedule, Taguchi took the opportunity to keep the King in his chamber for as long as he could.
On such mornings like these, the King didn’t belong to the advisors or knights contending for his attention. On mornings like these, Taguchi could pretend that the gorgeous man staring sleepily at him with beady eyes belonged to him alone.
“Your highness,” Taguchi urged the lump on the bed, “your bath is ready.”
The King rolled again, this time towards Taguchi, as if drawn towards his voice. Taguchi moved closer to the bed, ready to catch the body as it hovered dangerously close to the edge of the bed.
King Kamenashi pouted.
“Junno, let me sleep.”
“Advisor Nakamaru is at the door,” Taguchi lied and then worked hard to keep a straight face.
The King bounced up from the bed with wide eyes, nearly tipping off the edge. Then he saw the look on Taguchi’s face and glared at him.
“I could have you hanged for lying to me, you know,” he said.
“But you won’t.” Taguchi grinned at him.
King Kamenashi paused for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Only because it would be too much of a hassle to hire another manservant who could give decently satisfactory massages.”
“I’m glad that my services are convenient and that my skills are able to bring you relief and satisfaction,” Taguchi waggled his eyebrows for effect. However, instead of being dismissed by the King with another roll of his eyes as he had expected, Taguchi was a little startled when there was no response. Instead, the King’s ears darkened and a flush spread down his neck to his exposed torso.
The King abruptly stood up, pushing Taguchi out of the way and walked towards the bath. As his personal manservant, Taguchi had seen the King without his clothes on plenty of occasions (seeing as it was part of his job description to dress and undress the King on a daily basis), but he still found his mouth dry at the sight of strong shoulders and smooth skin.
The soft sound of water splashing broke him out of his daze. Taguchi hurried to attend to the King as he settled into the large basin. He was by the King’s side in a moment, cloth in hand, in case the King required assistance.
King Kamenashi considered him for a moment before wordlessly stretching out an arm. Taguchi moved to kneel beside the basin when a wince unwillingly escaped him; the quick movement pulled on muscles still strained from his fight with Sir Koki.
“What’s wrong?” The King eyed him with curiosity.
Taguchi shook his head and smiled. He then took the King’s arm gently and washed it by running the cloth down the arm. He was paying extra attention to each finger when the hand suddenly withdrew and he felt something wet caressing the side of his face.
Droplets of water ran from the King’s fingers onto Taguchi’s skin and down his cheeks. A thumb stroked his jaw line, from under his ear to his chin. Then he felt tge fingers under his chin, angling his face to the side, the thumb caressing the region of his jaw close to his ear.
“What is this?” The King asked.
Taguchi knew without having to ask that the King was referring to the cut on his jaw, the cut that Sir Koki had made with Sakura during the match that had allowed him to complete the third task.
“An accident in the kitchen, sire,” he said.
King Kamenashi smirked. “Probably tripped over your own feet.”
“Well, I do possess rather long legs, if I may say so myself.”
A hand waved at him dismissively, flicking water all over Taguchi’s shirt.
“Yes, I suppose you do, you probably have legs as long as that bastar-” The King paused, as if surprised by his own words and train of thought. Then he looked at Taguchi. Taguchi felt himself freeze from the way the King seemed to scrutinise him. After a moment, however, the King burst out laughing.
Water sloshed from the basin onto the floor as the King stomped his feet, body quaking with laughter. When he finally calmed down, King Kamenashi looked at Taguchi with an amused expression and ran a wet hand through his hair.
Taguchi barely avoided choking on his own saliva.
“I just thought of something ridiculous,” the King said. “So ridiculous that it’s actually hilarious.”
“Yes, sire,” Taguchi replied absentmindedly, eyes glued to the way water droplets ran down the sides of the King’s face and along his Adam’s apple.
Taguchi licked his lips, distracted.
The King then leaned back, tilting his head to rest it on the edge of the bath.
“My head hurts now,” he said and promptly closed his eyes.
Taguchi reached for the bottle of Lavender oil and hurriedly moved to kneel behind the King. With his fingers coated in the scented oil, he gently massaged the King’s temples.
“Mmmm…” King Kamenashi moaned in pleasure and Taguchi’s body jerked slightly with excitement. He tried hard to suppress a groan.
The next day found Taguchi turning over his shoulder to see King Kamenashi’s eyes constantly watching him with a strange sort of interest that made Taguchi’s heart shout success. He would be in the middle of a one-sided conversation with Sir Koki retelling the tale of Sakura’s abduction, or funning at Advisor Nakamaru’s expense, cracking a pun about the size of his nose and how it was rumoured to relate to sexual prowess, when his neck would prickle.
He’d smile winningly at the King who he expected to look away with a bashful flush to his cheeks, but far from looking embarrassed at being caught with his newfound interest in his manservant, the King merely shrugged and returned with a smile that failed to crease his eyes. While a part of Taguchi found this behaviour odd, he was too busy soaking in the attention to question the King’s intent.
Take now, for example, when the King was standing at behind his back, sniffing at his neck.
“You mustn’t let your servants see you on your tiptoes, sire,” Taguchi said in amusement. “They would hang themselves for not being able to provide you with a stool like the last time.”
There was a clack as the heels of King Kamenashi’s boots toppled back onto the ground.
“What last time?”
Or maybe I should be hanging myself, Taguchi thought, biting at his lip to think of a quick explanation before swivelling around to face the King with a perky smile.
“At the court, your grace. I was among the audience when you interrogated the Flash.”
The King blinked innocently without a speck of suspicion. “Oh, were you? Well then, Junno, tell me what you thought of him.”
“He’s a down right bastard,” Taguchi answered swiftly before loyally adding, “although I do find his jokes rather amusing.”
“His jokes? Care to share one with me? I’m in the mood to have a laugh, myself.” The King twinkled up at him, waiting.
Thrilled at the opportunity to tickle the King’s humour while he was in a more sober state of mind, and thus one he was more likely to remember in, Taguchi asked, “Well, your grace, have you heard of what the clock did when it was hungry? It-”
“Went back for seconds,” the King’s voice overlapped Taguchi’s.
Taguchi stilled, staring at the King who stared back for a moment before doubling over with a high-pitched chortle. Feeling relief well up inside him, Taguchi smiled fondly at the jumble of brown curls that had fallen into the King’s face, shading his eyes.
“I suppose you had heard that one before.”
“Naturally,” the King replied. His face had heightened in colour but his expression remained blank and cool; a faint tightness curled his lips into a smirk that bordered on a snarl. “I am the King, after all. I know everything… sooner or later.”
With that, the King turned on his heel and strutted down the hall, his cape slinking after him through his chamber doors until they slammed shut.
The doors to the King’s chambers remained obstinately closed for the remainder of the day. When reminded that he’d have to open them to access the washrooms, the King pointed out that he had a window complete with a balcony and that he was sure his subjects wouldn’t object to seeing his royal bits out in the open. Even Advisor Nakamaru’s threat of donning red underpants again failed to produce a desirable response (although it did make Sir Koki pause and look at the Advisor in a new light: “Red? Really? All this time… I wouldn’t have pegged you as the sort.”).
“What happened?” Koki asked Taguchi in the hallway. “Did the cook forget to pick out the tomatoes in his lunch? Or did his eyebrows grow in again? He’s awfully sensitive about them. And his clothes. And hair. Can never forget the hair. I remember when we were wee lads and somebody-”
The doors were suddenly thrown open, the King standing between them with a dramatic aura that shone as bright as his crown; in actuality, he was really just standing directly under the candled chandelier. Sir Koki reflexively kneeled down on to his knee to which King Kamenashi responded with an impatient tsk.
“Get up, Koki. There’s no one around to see right now.” The King’s gaze pinned onto Taguchi and narrowed as he spoke to them all. “I would like an audience with the Flash. I’ve readied the final task and as such I suggest that you ready the gaols for a permanent visitor.”
“Wait, so you locked yourself in your room like a teenaged maiden to angst away about the Flash?” Koki asked and shot Nakamaru and Taguchi a suggestive grin which they wisely ignored.
“Thank you, Sir Koki. I advise you begin clearing horse dung out of the stables now because you will not be permitted into the dining hall until all twenty-three of them have been cleaned.”
“Wha-”
“Advisor Nakamaru, I put you in charge of ensuring that Sir Koki follows through on his duties. If not, I fear I will be persuaded to purchase that rhinestone studded cape I had set my eyes on a couple days prior. Surely you remember the one, don’t you? The price had sent you into embarrassing hysterics.”
Taguchi watched Advisor Nakamaru turn pale, as if remembering a past trauma, and awaited his punishment in silent anxiety.
“Junno, my most loyal, trusted, and dangerously handsome manservant,” the King spoke with a clipped voice, icicles dangling from his every word, “I request that you bring the Flash to my chambers within the hour. My doors will open only then.”
With that, the King retreated to his seclusion once more with another slam of the doors. Sir Koki turned to him with a betrayed expression that made Taguchi fall into a panic which he soon realised was false.
“How come you get away with everything?” Sir Koki cried. “I get stuck with shit while you get to play messenger boy.”
“I’m lucky, I guess,” Taguchi responded with a half-hearted shrug, his insides sloshing around in a sickly fashion. Whether he really did he did get away with everything now depended on the final task. Along with his ability to charm the King’s pants off.
“You sent your servant to fetch me?” Taguchi said, now standing in the middle of the King’s chambers with his beard twitching along with his lips. The King sat perched on the edge of the desk he hardly used, leaving the bulk of the paperwork in his Advisor’s capable and super soft hands. Or so Taguchi had heard.
The King’s feet dangled in the air, crossed at the ankles, and while the reminder of his short stature made Taguchi’s heart beat with fondness, the King’s stormy expression was anything but.
“So I take it you met my manservant,” the King said with an air of lightness that was so plainly an act it was painful. “His name is Junno, or so he says. One can’t trust one’s own servants these days…”
Sensing that the conversation was heading down a slippery slope, Taguchi tried to redirect it.
“Being quite broke at the moment, I wouldn’t know, sire. But I was told you had the fourth task ready for me and I am eager to please you.”
The King gave a bark of laugh that lasted all but two seconds. “Are you truly? Well then, we’ll get to business when I see fit. As for your empty pouch, I see your belly looks full. And your skin is glowing compared to the waxy complexion you brought to my court. Seems to me you’ve been living like a king.”
“If only, sire. I find that a bath in the stream and even a half loaf stolen from the baker’s are enough to revive a failing spirit. And the pear trees are flourishing beautifully so one can never risk starving in your kingdom even if they tried.”
“Well said. Incorrect, but well said,” the King returned with an alarming glint in his eyes. “It is more than possible to die of starvation in my gaols, as you will soon learn.”
“That depends, my King, on your task. I will not fail you.”
A huff and the King hopped down from his desk, unclipped his cape so that it slinked to his feet in a pile of mauve, and stalked forwards with his hips sashaying in a manner that was meant to distract.
“Yes, yes, we’ll get to that-you really are strangely eager to meet your end,” the King whispered, close enough to plant the palm of his hot hand flat against Taguchi’s breast, “but first I have some questions.”
This would be the time to abort and back away, to flee while the King’s men were busy at the stables and never look back. Instead, Taguchi found himself releasing a guttural groan as the King’s other hand slipped lower and did things that would make Sir Koki blush, Yamashita applaud, and Advisor Nakamaru faint.
It wasn’t every day that one was groped by the most dashing King in the realm.
Taguchi was only upset that the King’s lonely hands had chosen the Flash, the bearded criminal, over Junno, the hottest manservant to have ever served. But, he supposed, the King did have his quirks and Taguchi was willing to let the King fondle his beard all day if only he would continue with his ministrations.
“A-ask a-aw-away,” Taguchi panted and suddenly felt something pointy at his back. Well that escalated fast, Taguchi thought dizzily before it registered that the King was at his front and thus couldn’t be at his back at the same time unless there were two of him like there were two of Taguchi, only there was only one Taguchi who was turning into putty and was about to create a mess if the King didn’t-
“Ow!” Taguchi yelped as he felt a sharp pinch along the skin of his jaw and stared wide-eyed at his beard which now hung from the King’s hand like a diseased rodent. The King’s other hand came up to trace a cool fingertip over the cut near his ear, an almost reverent touch to confirm every suspicion. Taguchi swallowed down his whine and said as calmly as he could after being groped and abandoned so thoroughly, “You play dirty, my King. That was unfair.”
King Kamenashi surged forward with a ferocious growl, meeting him chest-to-chest until the edge of the desk bit at Taguchi’s back painfully to match the vicious grip on his left upper arm. On any other occasion, Taguchi would have revelled in such a display of masculine virility but what would have been an arousing experience was dampened by the betrayed hurt that moistened the King’s eyes and was masqueraded instead as anger.
Taguchi felt his insides curdle and found the bruises blooming along his back and arm well deserved.
“So what is it you came for? My crown? You’ve had plenty of opportunities to get at it, so why haven’t you? What is it that you want?” the King hissed so closely that Taguchi could taste the desperation in his very breath, his hardened eyes scouring Taguchi’s face like steel wool, searching and memorising. “I’d like to know before I send you to waste away in the gaols, my beloved Junno.”
Beloved.
Taguchi’s heart stuttered and it spilled out before he could tack on any finesse or fanciful phrase.
“You, your grace. I want you.”
There. Simple and as bare as Taguchi’s face.
King Kamenashi ripped away from him, unimpressed, a look of utmost disgust-one that even Advisor Nakamaru’s era of sporting long tresses hadn’t garnered-contorting his face before he turned and walked to his bedside table, crushing Taguchi’s heart underfoot with every step.
There, he lifted the lid of a red box that sat atop the table and plucked from it a cube of the finest chocolate the Nashi Kingdom had to offer, and turned to face Taguchi once more.
“Too bad for you, then,” said the King with a spark of cold revenge and lifted the chocolate to his lips as he spoke. “Your fourth task is to retrieve this piece of chocolate. Your failure to do so will follow with a farewell.”
How Taguchi managed to cross the spacious chamber of the King’s quarters in a flash, the legends couldn’t say, but it was commonly known that he managed to reach the King before he could swallow down the milk-chocolate delicacy.
Grabbing the King by his wide shoulders, Taguchi drew him close and whispered right against his lips, “I promised you earlier, your grace, that my reputation is true. I make sure to get what I want.”
Insistently prying the King’s lips open with his own, Taguchi began his search. Such an expedition was also known as a kiss-a first kiss, to be exact. There were many detours and back-tracking and peering into crevices, but at last Taguchi found what he was looking for.
He pulled back with a thoughtful look. “That wasn’t milk-chocolate. It was dark chocolate.”
The King hummed and swayed for a moment, as if tipsy on Taguchi.
“Left a bitter taste in your mouth, did I? Serves you right,” the King said with a raspy breath and hooded eyes that kindled with wickedness and made Taguchi question the existence of clothes as well as the livelihood of his own heart.
“According to your rules, I’m afraid my task isn’t complete until I return to you whatever I steal…” Taguchi whispered and tugged his King closer once more.
For the very first time, the King’s crown was tilted askew.
Epilogue
Humming a mindless tune, Taguchi sat at the King’s feet, tying his dragon hide boots as a smaller pair of hands played with his hair.
“You sure are taking your sweet time. I didn’t know you liked it down there so much,” Kazuya drawled, a smirk in his voice. “Isn’t it rough on your knees?”
Laces now knotted, Taguchi moved up, sliding his hands along Kazuya’s thighs before teasingly moving them away to adjust his silk neck cloth.
“I did offer you my body along with my life, knees included. My life and knees are all yours,” Taguchi murmured and moved to a stand to fetch the King’s crown and place it delicately on Kazuya’s head. The pear-shaped ruby shone brilliantly in the center and Taguchi admired his handy work for he had spent the past hour polishing it as Kazuya slept, exhausted from their midnight excursions.
“I do wonder at what you choose to do with me, though-not that I mind in the least. Quite the opposite, really. A plot to steal Queen Tegoshi’s gowns and the most prized hair stylist from the Kay Populous Isles-no one will suspect you’re behind it all.”
“I know,” Kazuya said impishly and looked up expectantly.
Sighing inwardly and yet not able to stop a smile from twitching to life, Taguchi leaned down to plant a kiss on Kazuya’s forehead. Earlier, Kazuya had complained that Taguchi’s height made him grow a crick in his neck and thus refused to lean up again: “I’m a King. If you want kisses, you bend down and get them yourself.”
Of course, the rule applied when Kazuya wanted kisses as well.
Taguchi watched the same small smile that signaled that Kazuya was very pleased-but dare not show it for Kings were supposed to be haughty, not giddy-appear and kissed him again, this time on the lips.
“M-move, I need to check my hair,” Kazuya said once Taguchi had pulled back. Taguchi obediently moved aside in silent amusement and watched Kazuya’s cheeks glow through the dresser mirror. Their eyes caught through the reflection and Kazuya flushed deeper. “You’re annoying.”
“May I ask why you keep me under foot, then?”
Kazuya smirked and curled a lock of hair about his finger before flicking it into a bouncy curl. “Why bother with the hassle of pillaging when I have you, the legendary Flash at my disposal?”
“Hmm,” Taguchi said and walked to the window, the wind caressing his face before he turned back to face Kazuya through the mirror with a grin. “I thought thievery was a crime, your grace.”
Kazuya’s eyebrows furrowed momentarily. “I told you not to call me that. And it’s not a crime if you don’t get caught-which I know you won’t.”
“Oh?”
"The rumours don't underestimate you. I’ve tested your resourcefulness, perseverance, and courage,” Kazuya answered and walked to stand next to him by the window ledge. “Thus far you've managed to steal the sandals off a boorish Baron's very feet, the undergarments of the kingdom's most severe prude, and the sword of my most loyal Knight.”
Taguchi watched the wind tousle Kazuya’s hair into tasteful disarray.
“And your heart, my lord? I believe I’ve safely claimed that as well.” Kazuya stilled, a hand frozen in his hair where it tried in vain to keep his curls from flying. Taguchi grabbed it and brought it to his lips. “May I keep it, too?”
After a moment’s pause, Kazuya’s eyes fluttered upwards and he said in a voice so soft that Taguchi could only grasp it through their proximity, “I don’t go back on my words.”
Before Taguchi could respond with a confession of his own and twist the scene into one from a romantic novella, Kazuya snatched his hand back and added tersely, “If you ever call me ‘my lord’ or ‘your grace’ or anything stupid like that again, I’ll hang you. Even Koki doesn’t call me that I’ve never once shared my bed with him. …Although we did get quite close to it that one time. Oh, and that time too! And then there was that night, and then when-Hmm, I suppose there were many times, actually.”
Taguchi frowned. “What times?”
When he crossed his arms in a petulant refusal to budge, Kazuya burst out in laughter before tugging Taguchi down by his neck cloth and giving him a hard kiss. It proved to be a sufficient distraction, one that Taguchi had regrettably let Kazuya discover and use as his weapon of choice.
“Never mind that-you can complain when you catch us in a tryst, but considering that Koki is rumoured to be enamoured with a harlot who I suspect is of the male persuasion, that won’t be happening anytime soon.”
“At all, you mean,” Taguchi corrected firmly.
“Yes, that,” Kazuya confirmed with mischief dancing in his crinkling eyes. “Now if you’re done with the fits, I’ve an assignment for you, one that will prove to be splendidly entertaining…”
Advisor Nakamaru was, quite frankly, not paid enough for his duties and what he had to endure at the orders of King Kamenashi. He lead a quiet life, silently adhering to what was right and his virtues, until the fateful day he decided to work for the King. Ever since, an ever present migraine had taken up a quarter of his brain and he could no longer sleep at night without dreaming of the King wasting away the kingdom’s fortune on his whim-of-the-day.
Upon waking to such nightmares, Nakamaru found comfort in the fact that the King didn’t really have a fortune to squandor; whatever trinkets he acquired were through gifts-his coin pouch filled by auctioning off the ones that didn’t take his fancy-and exchanges and the occasional flattery and charm that won him favour everywhere. On his good days, Nakamaru couldn’t deny the soft spot he kept for the King as well-but today was no such day.
After penning and mailing an urgent letter to his tailor, Nakamaru donned his longest set of robes and snuck out of his room. He could feel the tips of his ears redden whenever he passed someone in the corridor and took care to walk with short strides lest his robes billowed up. The walk was unexpectedly pleasantly airy, although Nakamaru would never say so out loud.
At last he arrived at the dining hall where he had heard the King was indulging in a short luncheon and, with a curt knock, was told to come in.
The doors clicked shut behind him.
“My pants. WHERE ARE MY PANTS. I can’t believe you stole them-all of them!”
King Kamenashi paused from where he sat at the head of the long table, munching on a plump pear. Taguchi stood next to him, wiping the juice that trickled down his fingers, his shoulders quivering suspiciously.
“Pants? Stole?” King Kamenashi blinked owlishly at his heaving chest before leaning back with a leer. “So you aren’t wearing them, then? My oh my… My apologies, Queen Tegoshi, my Advisor is known to be rather risqué.”
Queen Tegoshi, who sat at the King’s right and was heavily guarded by at least fifty men who, Nakamaru just now noticed, stood lining the walls, tittered and scanned Nakamaru from head to foot in a way that made him feel as if the King had stolen his robes, too.
“I am always fond of the eccentric ones. Why don’t I lighten my load and lend him some of my extra skirts?”
Nakamaru choked.
“It would be an honour,” King Kamenashi finished in his stead, his chalice raised in the air in a toast. “To Nakamaru, the man who dares to live on the edge. No more pants!”
“No more pants,” Queen Tegoshi echoed solemnly.
And thus another legend was born.
The End
Authors: scorch66 and cease11
Pairing/Group: Junno/Kame (aka KameNo aka Lame2), a healthy dose of KAT-TUN with cameos by NEWS and Yamapi (Johnny's Entertainment)
Rating: T for tease PG-13
Warnings: crack gone semi-serious, fairytale AU, humour of the shameless variety, implications of… adult activities, cross-dressing, undressing, death threats galore, too many implied pairings to keep track of, fandom in-jokes
Notes: Written for 2013 Devil or Angel challenge with the super lovely and talented scorch66 (together we are: Team Banana and Potato Minions!) for the prompt Pear. Originally posted Here. Based loosely on The Master Thief, Brothers Grimm variant. Enjoy!
Summary: Hide your daughters (and sons), Taguchi Junnosuke is the infamous Flash, master thief extraordinaire capable of stealing more than your precious gems, but also your hearts. Meanwhile, in the kingdom where things are oft’ pear-shaped, King Kamenashi is convinced that the Flash is after his crown jewels (the precious gem kind) and plots to put an end to this threat once and for all. Little does the King realise that it is not just his jewels (at least not the precious gems kind) that the Flash is interested in.
Part 1
After donning his beard and handing over Advisor Nakamaru’s intolerable underpants-the King sniffing at his hand and warning him against breaking into his Lavender oil stash ever again-Taguchi had thought that King Kamenashi’s spirits would have been lifted; and indeed they were. For several following days, the King randomly broke out into song as he strode through the corridors of the castle, sometimes even skipping when no one but his faithful manservant was around to bear witness.
He no longer complained about the temperature of his bath or the cut of his clothes, and when Taguchi had tripped over his own feet at the sight of the King rolling out of bed-for Taguchi had long since learned that the King preferred to sleep in the nude but had yet to grow accustomed to facing such a temptation so early in the morning-and had dropped the parcel of sweets sent as a gift from Masuda the bread maker, the King had smiled sweetly, a hand at his naked hip, and said, “Are you always so clumsy? Feel free to help yourself to what you like.”
There had been a spark of suggestion in the King’s eyes but Taguchi was neither bold nor sure enough to have not mistaken it as a trick of the morning sunlight. What was more disconcerting, yet wonderfully so, was that the King welcomed Taguchi’s massages with praises that spilled past his lips as moans.
Towelling the Lavender-scented massage oil from his hands, Taguchi wondered why he hadn’t thought to steal Nakamaru’s underpants before. It was doing wonders for everyone; even Nakamaru himself had entered a more laidback disposition after switching to green. It seemed that red underpants had a bizarre effect on the King, much like a red dotted flag waved in front of a bull.
Sir Koki, who had accompanied them during a visit to the city where the King emptied his coin pouch to the poor and even deigned to lend advice on eyebrow care and the proper way to flick one’s hair without looking ludicrous, had noticed the change and had said to Taguchi, “Whatever you’re doing to him, keep it up.” He had then added with a self-conscious cough, “Or I’ll kill you.”
Unfortunately, however, the perky mood did not last long.
The King’s chambers now tidy, the bed covers rolled back and the pillows fluffed like feather-stuffed soufflés, ready to lull the King’s happy little head to sleep, Taguchi went in search for said King who, now that he recalled with a worried frown, hadn’t returned from his evening stroll in the pear tree garden.
The hunt proved to be short for a booming voice singing the Nashi Kingdom’s anthem in drunken accents led him straight to the expansive dining hall where Taguchi easily spotted the King sitting sloppily in the head chair, Sir Koki and Advisor Nakamaru fretting over him.
“Kame-chan, I think you’ve had enough-”
“Nonsense!” The King batted away the confiscating hands and took another angry swig from his gold chalice. “I’m your kind. King! King is what I meant. Can have what error I want... Ever!”
When Sir Koki tried to remove the jug of ale from the table, the King quickly grabbed a nearby pastry and in a fit of drunken resourcefulness, flung it at his most trusted Knight.
“There! I’ve slain you!” The King crowed victoriously, pointing at the smear of red jelly that had stained Sir Koki’s armour just above his breast. Taguchi bit down on his lip hard as his old friend hung his head with a sigh. Someone needed rescuing.
“Your bed is ready, your grace,” Taguchi said to announce his presence and tiptoed his way around the food and broken dishware strewn across the floor, thinking himself lucky for avoiding most of the chaos. Whatever tantrum the King had entered had by now trickled down to a drunken rebellion. Or so he thought.
“You!” The King punctuated his shout with a burp that echoed through the hall and, in his sober state, would no doubt make him blush. “Stay where you are. Someone fetch him my balls.”
“Err…” said Sir Koki in remarkable eloquence as Advisor Nakamaru stood dumbstruck.
“I think he means the juggling balls,” Taguchi supplied helpfully, more than a little amused.
The King looked at them scornfully. “Of course that’s what I mean. What are you all? Drunk?”
Everyone wisely held their tongues as King Kamenashi took another long sip and swayed dangerously in his seat. His cape hung askew, sliding off his shoulder and tugging down his shirt to expose a smooth shoulder and the delicate dip of his collar bone. His crown, however, sat perfectly straight atop hair that curled in every direction. Taguchi fought back a desire to scoop him up into his arms.
“My court jester is a bore,” was the King’s explanation once Taguchi found himself being handed three rubber balls and a whispered apology by Nakamaru. The King flopped backward in his chair, kicking his feet onto the table, and said with an imperious slur, “Enter me, Junno.”
There was a resounding clatter as Sir Koki dropped his helmet and they all watched it disappear under the table.
Taguchi couldn’t suppress his wide smile. “I take it you mean entertain, your grace. It would be my humble pleasure.”
A few minutes of juggling and the initial awe began to fade. The King’s attention, unfocused as it was in his inebriated state, shifted to harassing Advisor Nakamaru by throwing rolls of bread at his head while jeering, “I know you like them buns!” Nakamaru valiantly bore the onslaught with grim determination.
“Why did the carriage tip over?” Taguchi asked suddenly amidst his juggling. As he had desired, the King’s eyes skittered back to him, albeit more vehemently than expected.
“It was the Flash’s doing,” the King hissed, his drunken lisp dampening the venom in his voice.
Taguchi should have seen that one coming. He smiled brightly and shook his head while executing a skilled toss, catching the balls behind his back as he bowed.
“The carriage was two-tired, your grace.”
It took only a moment for the words to sink in and Taguchi was notified of when by a bellowing chortle. Taguchi smiled adoringly at the King as he hiccupped and clapped, a bundle of exuberance shaking in his seat while his Advisor and Knight watched on incredulously.
“That was funny…?” they asked each other and sent exasperated glances at the King’s back.
Such a lively reaction was new for Taguchi too, whose puns were usually met with a pained silence or a violent retort. More than once he had heard his admirers comment that he would make the perfect lover as long as he only opened his mouth to smile silently.
Taguchi drank in the King’s unadulterated amusement with an irrepressible grin of his own and continued juggling. “Your grace, I wonder if you know who the roundest knight in Prince Shige’s court was?”
“I don’t,” the King replied with a childish pout that contrasted the anticipation shining in his eyes.
“Sir Cumference.”
This resulted in another howl of laughter and twin face-palms.
“What happens when a clock goes hungry?” Taguchi continued, the King’s giddy amusement fueling a balloon in his chest so that he nearly floated above the ground. “It goes back for seconds.”
“Genius!” the King shouted as he rolled off his chair, his Advisor and Knight mumbling lame under breath.
The King’s humour was so tickled by Taguchi’s puns that he didn’t notice Nakamaru and Koki sneaking the jugs of ale out of the room, Nakamaru smacking the back of Koki’s head when he dared to steal a sip. With no more alcohol within the King’s reach, Taguchi found himself facing another obstacle on his mission to tuck the King into bed.
“I don’t think the vase returns your affections, your grace,” Taguchi commented with no little amusement. The King had wrapped himself around one of the large marble vases that decorated the corners of the dining hall and continued to stroke his cheek against it lovingly.
At Taguchi’s words, the King pulled back slightly and looked up with wide eyes brimming with hurt. His lips wobbled as he asked, “Really? Why not?”
Taguchi clenched his fists, restraining himself from leaning in for a kiss. He doubted the King would remember anything under the throbbing headache he was sure to suffer tomorrow and Taguchi would rather have their first kiss engraved in the King’s memory. For now, he was willing to settle for a confession. He would need the practice for when the real moment arrived.
Crouching down on his haunches, Taguchi ran a hand down the King’s back and smiled. “The vase knows you’re already taken. It’s a very noble vase, you see.”
“Oh?” The King blinked back at the vase with renewed fascination. “What’s its name?”
“Vase… line. Vaseline,” Taguchi answered.
“That’s a pretty name.” The King placed a chaste, albeit sloppy, kiss on Vaseline’s fair marble before glancing back at Taguchi. “But I’m not taken. Still here in my castle.”
Taguchi nodded. “Yes, you are. In the dining hall when you should be in bed. Come, let me take you to your chambers, my grace.”
“I’m not a child,” the King said with a child-like sulk. “I have a crown.”
“A very pretty crown,” Taguchi spoke softly, “and Vaseline is a very pretty… maiden. It would not bode well for her to be seen with you like this at so late an hour.”
Slowly, the King’s limbs loosened, releasing the vase and he hesitated for only a moment before grabbing the hand Taguchi held out for him. The King tripped as he rose, falling against Taguchi in a drunken sway and Taguchi used the moment to inhale the King’s sweet scent, somehow managing to resist wrapping him in a tight embrace.
“You’re much too dangerous like this,” Taguchi whispered as the King looked on obliviously and, a heartbeat later, proved his words just by accidentally knocking over the vase. A moment of silence was dedicated to the broken remains of Vaseline’s demise before Taguchi noticed the wetness of the King’s eyes and quickly led him out of the hall.
They managed to weave through the corridors with little fuss but as they arrived at the doors of the King’s chambers, the King refused to budge. Taguchi raised his eyebrows in inquiry.
“I need to freshen up,” the King explained with a tiny hiccup.
“Of course, your grace,” Taguchi smiled, “but my hand-it’s still in your possession.”
“… And? You can accompany me.”
The King spoke with an easy finality, as if entering the bathing quarters with his manservant in the middle of the night was no cause for alarm and required not the least discretion. Taguchi himself would think twice if the King showed any… adult intentions-for Taguchi was not at all interested in taking advantage of a lush-but the King’s face was almost frighteningly transparent.
Taguchi lifted a hand to gently move aside the tuft of brown curls that had fallen into the King’s innocent eyes. “As you wish.”
When the King came down to the dining hall the next morning, after being force fed a herbal concoction to ward away his headache, he froze at the sight of broken shards of marble that still littered the floor.
“That was a gift from Emperor Kimura…” The King spoke in a voice that betrayed his dismay and he heatedly accosted Advisor Nakamaru who, due to his constant misfortune, had chosen just that moment to enter the hall. “Who’s responsible for this?”
“I d-don’t know, y-your highness,” Nakamaru stuttered, connecting the King’s ire with the broken vase and looking around helplessly. Taguchi carefully averted his eyes before theirs could meet; as his sworn servant, it was Taguchi’s duty to protect the King from any harm-and that included the sting of embarrassment.
“Perhaps someone broke in,” Taguchi suggested, schooling his face into concern with great difficulty.
“Who could possibly-” The King’s eyes fogged up almost instantly. “The Flash. I’ll see if I don’t hang him for this.”
Oops, Taguchi thought.
It turned out that the King was equally passionate about Taguchi as Taguchi was about the King, only the type of passion differed.
“I hate him so much, I hope he rots in the gaol,” the King said viciously as they sat at the table in his room. The table was just next to a wide window that was swung open, allowing in the sunlight and occasional breeze that did nothing to cool the King’s temper from the morning.
Somewhere along his impressive rant-in both speech and stamina for they had been sitting for nearly an hour now-against the Flash, the King’s hand had found Taguchi’s and held it in a tight squeeze which Taguchi returned with a sympathetic nod.
Hearing death threats against his own name wasn’t half as disconcerting as Taguchi thought it would be. He rather quite enjoyed it.
“He is an awful nuisance, I agree,” Taguchi added.
The King snorted. “Nuisance. That isn’t the least of it. Can you believe he’s been stealing my Lavender oils? He practically reeks of it whenever I see him, that smiling smelly bastard. Strutting about with his disgustingly long legs like he owns the kingdom.”
“I have long legs,” Taguchi pointed out.
The King looked abashed for a moment before he cleared his throat and said with a snappy tone and pink cheeks. “Yes, but I quite like yours. Pay attention, Junno.”
“I assure you mine is undivided when it comes to you, your grace,” Taguchi returned smoothly, a satisfied smile stretching from ear to ear.
The King’s flush darkened and he pulled his hand away abruptly. “You’re always smiling, did you know? It’s unbecoming and I don’t find it attractive in the least so you might as well stop. I order you to stop. Stop.”
Taguchi managed to purse his lips only for a second before he burst out in an uncontrollable laugh.
“Disobeying a direct order from your king is enough to warrant imprisonment,” King Kamenashi said hotly, the sunlight igniting his brown curls into a golden flame.
“My most sincere apologies, your grace,” Taguchi replied with a peeping grin to which the King answered with an eye roll and an irrepressible smile of his own.
“Off with you. As punishment for you disobedience, go fetch me the juiciest pair from the garden.”
Taguchi bowed and left with a promise of a speedy return he didn’t intend to keep. Instead of heading directly to the gardens, he stopped by his personal chamber and changed into the guise of the Flash-which really just entailed a change of less clean clothes and his trusty false beard. With a quick look over in the mirror, Taguchi retraced his steps back to the King’s quarters and entered with a heralding knock.
“As promised, my King, I have come to receive my third task.”
The King, clearly startled by his unexpected visitor, jumped up from his seat… and pointedly stepped onto the foot stool when he remembered his disadvantaged height.
“How did you find your way through my castle?” he demanded.
“You may say I followed your scent. I would advise you against calling the guards, my king, for I would never harm you and certainly that is not my intention today.”
The King eyed him warily before strolling to his wing-backed armchair.
“I hope you remember that it is due to my kindness that you are now roaming free without chains,” the King said coolly and crossed his legs. “I have a pressing meeting to attend so I will keep it short.”
Taguchi, who knew that the King had no such meeting scheduled for the day, grinned under his beard. “Of course, my king.”
The King frowned. “You know, Flash, I find you quite annoying. Your wretched smile is enough to sour my mood.”
“I take it your highness isn’t fond of smiles,” Taguchi said with another smile and was surprised to see a sudden softness fall across the King’s face.
“Not so, there are some I am rather partial to…” Taguchi followed the King’s gaze to the jacket of the manservant uniform he had left behind and felt his heart skip. The King’s eyes snapped back to him shortly. “Sorry, I guess it’s just you then.”
“My misfortune makes my heart bleed,” Taguchi said solemnly as his heart danced a jig in his breast cavity.
“I’m sure it does,” the King replied, unconvinced, before a smirk cut across his face. “Now, let’s arrive at our business. I’ve had quite some difficulty in finding a candidate capable of withstanding your trickery, but I believe I have thought of just the one. Your third task, my tiresome Flash, is for you to find Sakura and lay her at my feet.”
“Sakura?” Taguchi asked.
“Yes, just so,” the King answered airily with a vindictive gleam in his eyes. “I believe you’ve encountered many such beauties in your life of crime, but Sakura truly is one of a kind. I hope she may abandon her purity by piercing you straight through the heart.”
With the mortifying belief that the King had instructed him to steal an unknown maiden’s virginity, Taguchi had no one to turn to except Yamashita. He met the man for the third time at the back of a tavern that, as shady as it was, was by far not the worst the city had to offer.
Yamashita appeared through the back door clad in his work attire. He adjusted the artificial moulds of his breasts as Taguchi explained his quest to find a lady by the name of Sakura, and flicked a lock of his sandy blond wig with a huff.
“Well, now I’m offended. After turning me down, you ask me to direct you to some hussy?” Yamashita eyed him narrowly. “I thought you were more into wands than cauldrons?”
“That’s a creative way to put it,” Taguchi replied sheepishly, fighting down his blush. In truth, even despite his leanings, he had no intention to bed anyone other than the King, be it for a task or not. He wondered too why the King would choose to punish him by such a method… unless the King knew he was a veritable wand-wielding wizard, but that was an unlikely case.
A more sensible explanation would be that Taguchi had misunderstood the King’s words for he had an unfortunate way of stating things-Taguchi recalled the King’s crown jewels and released a brief chuckle-and would thus have to speak to Sakura firsthand to discover the crux of the matter.
He said as much to Yamashita and waited for the man to run through his mental archive of names and acquaintances; in his field of business and with his looks, he was bound to have a lot. Ten minutes later and Taguchi learned that unfortunately, Sakura wasn’t one of them.
“Sorry, handsome,” Yamashita said and pecked him on the cheek. “If you’re in the mood for some consolation… Jeez, no need to shake your head like that! It’s bad for my vanity.”
“Sorry,” Taguchi mimicked with a small smile and Yamashita shoved at his back.
“That’s why you keep your heart out of it,” he advised. “Now get out of here. It’ll be terrible for business if I’m seen with you. You’re a tough act to follow, Bido.”
Taguchi grinned as Yamashita blew him a farewell kiss and strolled on into the night, arriving back at the castle not an hour later. He ran into Sir Koki just as he walked up the steps.
“There you are. Kame-chan’s been asking all around for you-” Koki broke off, squinting at his face. “Is that lipstick? Don’t tell me you’ve been getting your jollies on while I searched for you like a headless Nakamaru. Wait until Kame-chan hears about this!”
“Wait! No!” Taguchi scrambled to chase after the armoured figure. A frightened panic overtook him at the thought of the King being told that Taguchi was loose with his intimacy, for Taguchi knew that the King valued fidelity above all. “It’s a misunderstanding!”
“One that we’ll let Kame-chan sort out,” Koki shot back and when he turned down the corridor, Taguchi made a desperate grab for his arm and missed, his hand sliding down to the hilt of Koki’s sword.
Within a second, Taguchi found himself held up against the castle wall, Koki’s forearm held under his chin. Taguchi gaped at the sudden change in his oldest friend, from a kitten to a dragon with teeth bared and eyes glinting dangerously.
“Don’t you ever touch Sakura-chan,” Koki hissed before backing away and giving Taguchi room to breathe.
“S-sakura-chan?” Taguchi choked, rubbing at his sore throat as the mystery behind King Kamenashi’s instructions began to dissolve into clarity. “Is that what you’ve named your sword? A cherry blossom?”
Sir Koki, famous in all the land for his bark but never his bite, his sword never once tainted with bloodshed… Pure.
“What of it?” Koki growled menacingly in a way that failed to either hide his blush or intimidate.
“It’s a beautiful name,” Taguchi replied, a plot quickly forming in his mind. “In fact, I would love to meet Sakura-chan one on one. What do you say, Koki, let us end this cat and mouse game of ours once and for all in a duel.”
Koki regarded him for a long, silent moment that stank of suspicion.
“What game?”
Taguchi faltered, suddenly realising that, at the moment, Koki saw him as Junno, the King’s manservant, not his rival of old.
“The game of… thorns!” Taguchi blurted, the cogs in his mind turning at maximum speed. “As the King’s childhood friend, you must be peeved to witness our budding relationship-a prickly rose blossoming right under your nose. Why not let the bad feelings spill out into the open? Of course… if you’d rather back away from my challenge, I am all too underst-”
“Choose your weapon and meet me in the courtyard.”
“Very well,” Taguchi agreed, beaming. All one needed to tame a dog was but a bone to chew.
On his way back from the armoury, from where he had plucked a charming sword that was sturdy and light but not at all strong enough to withstand Sakura’s blows, Taguchi made a stop at the kitchens. There was no one about at this time of night and so he managed to slip a pastry into the breast pocket of his jacket with no trouble and little haste.
“Took your sweet time cowering in your boots, huh?” Koki taunted when Taguchi entered the courtyard at an easy pace.
“Pardon my tardiness. I trust you haven’t changed your mind in the meantime?”
Koki gave a scowl and unsheathed his sword with a flourish. Taguchi grinned at the showmanship that was usually so uncharacteristic of his friend and mimicked his actions, meeting Koki face to face in the centre of the courtyard.
“But first: a request,” Taguchi said. “Promise that the passing of this duel and the mark on my cheek will not reach our beloved King’s ears.”
“Why?” Koki demanded impatiently. “I won’t hoodwink my own King and you’d be a fool to think otherwise.”
“I commend your loyalty,” Taguchi said with an honest smile, “but I wouldn’t ask without a reason. I don’t wish to cause the King any distress and I’m afraid he would not be pleased with our duel. You know how he feels about such affairs with swords.”
“‘Prettier to look at than to wield like a barbarian’,” snorted Koki. “I’d bet my life that Nakamaru’s the one who’s been feeding him that rubbish. What about the lipstick?”
“A misunderstanding,” Taguchi said simply, “one that I will explain once I have your promise and my victory.”
“You wish,” Koki returned with a good-humoured smirk, “but fine. I give you my promise if that’s what it will take for you to swing your toothpick of a sword.”
“How very gracious. On the count of three, then…”
The moon shone above them, casting a spotlight for their match and lending their raised swords a silver glow. On the count of three, they moved swiftly, their swords meeting in a medley of clangs that rang through the night.
As he had expected, Koki was a first-class dueler, quick and smart with his sword despite the obstructing weight of his armour. There had been a time when Taguchi had mused himself to be in love with the Knight but the affection never grew past a strong, friendly adoration-which was just as well because Taguchi had discovered a strand of red hair clinging to Koki’s clothes just a few days prior. A strand that very much resembled the colour of one of Yamashita’s wigs.
As he dodged and parried, Taguchi wondered if Koki was aware of who Yamashita really was… below the deck, so to speak.
“So you’re not completely useless with a sword,” Koki noted as they fought. His forehead shone with beaded sweat that was minute compared to the sheen Taguchi had achieved. It was almost time; he wouldn’t last long now.
“Some would even call me an expert in that field,” Taguchi replied with a grin.
Taguchi was much slower, lacking the adeptness of a trained swordsman, and he noted how Koki took care to not to cut him. To be sure, Sakura came down strong and hard, but never close enough to graze his skin-at least not intentionally, for Taguchi saw Koki’s grimace when Sakura nicked the region of his jaw just next to his ear. Unyielding, but not merciless.
Just as Taguchi had expected.
“About earlier, Koki,” Taguchi began, “I lied. Sakura is a distasteful name for a sword just as hideous.”
Just as Koki lunged with a screech of “I’ll kill you!” Taguchi changed the angle of his wrist, allowing his sword to slip down easily under the brunt of Koki’s and giving Sakura a clear path to his chest. The tip of the blade just barely scratched his shirt but it was enough to tare the thin fabric and, more importantly, the pastry hidden inside.
With a shout of unbridled agony that would land him a lead role in any theatrical play, Taguchi stumbled backwards. Adding a drunken sway to his steps for authenticity, he fell backwards onto a patch of grass. He lay there gasping as his hand clutched at his chest which was now sticky with strawberry jam that must have looked gruesome under the moonlight.
Koki rushed towards him at once, dropping his sword and kneeling at Taguchi’s side with wide eyes that grew steadily misty.
“You’ve slain me,” Taguchi croaked, thoroughly enjoying his role.
“N-no, I couldn’t have,” Koki cried. “I didn’t mean to actually kill you!”
“Well, you have,” Taguchi moaned, “or will have if you don’t run for help.”
“I will! Right away! Now! Please don’t die, I think Kame-chan really likes you.”
As Koki rose and made to turn, Taguchi quickly grabbed Sakura from the ground and rolled away, jumping to his feet as Koki squawked in outrage.
“Sorry,” Taguchi yelled over his shoulder as he sprinted away, his long legs lending him the advantage in the chase around the castle until he finally shook of the kindest Knight in the kingdom.
And, if Koki kept his promise the way Taguchi knew he would for an oath was an oath be it uttered to a lord or a beggar, he would be the most pitifully noble knight, too. And Taguchi the luckiest thief.
King Kamenashi examined the sword laid at his feet with a critical eye.
“That was quick,” he commented, the displeasure evident in his puckered face. “I see you’re alive and well. Not even a limb missing.”
The King finding a confidante in his manservant, Taguchi knew that he had hoped the Flash would meet his end against Sakura’s blade. The King had either overestimated his Knight’s brutality or underestimated his compassion. Taguchi briefly considered confessing that he managed to get hold of Sakura by taking inspiration from the King, but decided to keep that piece of irony to himself.
“I’m touched by your kind-hearted concern,” Taguchi replied and bowed, feeling a twinge run along the muscles of his back from last night’s exertions. Seeing the King’s eyes narrow, a smug tilt to his lips, Taguchi realised that his wince didn’t go unnoticed.
“You hide it well but even the great Flash isn’t impervious to strain, I’m afraid. I must send Sir Koki a fruit basket.”
Taguchi scratched at his beard as it itched the cut hidden along his jaw. “You’ve caught me, my King. Last night was indeed rough but not all kinds of midnight strains are undesirable…”
The King gave a haughty sniff. “Spoken like a true masochist. I’m sure Koki had fun with you.”
Taguchi laughed. “Sir Koki is as much a sadist as Advisor Nakamaru is a nudist. And while I’m sure he would appreciate a basket of the kingdom’s finest pears, I’m persuaded to think that he would appreciate the return of his sword even more.”
The King’s face darkened so menacingly that Taguchi took a step back.
Eyebrows forming an inward ‘V’ over eyes darkened with ill intent and lips thinned into a severe line, Taguchi knew that this must be the King’s famous Pudding Glare. While some kings armed themselves with weapons and a bubble of guards, King Kamenashi could fell a foe with his eyes alone, the potent disdain held within them enough to shrivel the esteem of even the most egotistically bloated giant.
Taguchi himself was hard pressed not to succumb and curl up weeping in a corner, begging the gods mercy for his existence.
“You think I would betray my friend in such a way? By keeping from him his beloved Sakura?” the King spoke slowly, voice low and deep. Taguchi, in mortified fascination, felt his loins stir in response.
Now? Really, self? Taguchi thought silently while at the same time being unable to deny the deadly charms of a furious king with perfectly sculpted curls and a velveteen voice to match. Maybe Taguchi really was a masochist.
“Forgive me, my king. I meant no such thing; I should have known that a most honourable King such as yourself would return Sakura to her owner,” Taguchi said hurriedly once he had gotten his throat unstuck. Now was not the time to dawdle and bring attention to the swell in his pants. “If you would please, my king, since I balk at the thought of keeping you away from important matters any longer-my fourth task?”
The King visibly preened at the strewn compliments, his chest puffing outwards, and said, now mollified, “I am rather busy-kingly matters and all; tapestries to hang, eyebrows to pluck, onsens to visit... As such, you will come to me again in three days time while I prepare your final test.”
“I am at your beck and call,” Taguchi said with another bow before scurrying from the King’s chambers in an uncomfortable waddle and a hand held between his legs. It was fortunate that the King was currently distracted by other explanations for his stiffness.
The ache in his muscles intensified the next morning as Taguchi emptied another bucket of warm water into the large wooden basin. He rolled his shoulders and tried not to wince. Maybe he should have a hot bath himself to soak and relax his tired body.
“Umph,” came a muffled sound from the bed on the other side of the chambers. Taguchi turned in time to see his favourite human shaped lump roll across the sizeable mattress, the silk sheets sliding low to reveal sleep tossed dark hair and a sun-kissed shoulder. He knew now from experience that the King wasn’t wearing anything under the sheets.
Taguchi liked mornings like these, when the King didn’t have meetings or lessons or other responsibilities that required his presence first thing in the morning. On the rare occasions when Advisor Nakamaru allowed King Kamenashi a late start to his schedule, Taguchi took the opportunity to keep the King in his chamber for as long as he could.
On such mornings like these, the King didn’t belong to the advisors or knights contending for his attention. On mornings like these, Taguchi could pretend that the gorgeous man staring sleepily at him with beady eyes belonged to him alone.
“Your highness,” Taguchi urged the lump on the bed, “your bath is ready.”
The King rolled again, this time towards Taguchi, as if drawn towards his voice. Taguchi moved closer to the bed, ready to catch the body as it hovered dangerously close to the edge of the bed.
King Kamenashi pouted.
“Junno, let me sleep.”
“Advisor Nakamaru is at the door,” Taguchi lied and then worked hard to keep a straight face.
The King bounced up from the bed with wide eyes, nearly tipping off the edge. Then he saw the look on Taguchi’s face and glared at him.
“I could have you hanged for lying to me, you know,” he said.
“But you won’t.” Taguchi grinned at him.
King Kamenashi paused for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Only because it would be too much of a hassle to hire another manservant who could give decently satisfactory massages.”
“I’m glad that my services are convenient and that my skills are able to bring you relief and satisfaction,” Taguchi waggled his eyebrows for effect. However, instead of being dismissed by the King with another roll of his eyes as he had expected, Taguchi was a little startled when there was no response. Instead, the King’s ears darkened and a flush spread down his neck to his exposed torso.
The King abruptly stood up, pushing Taguchi out of the way and walked towards the bath. As his personal manservant, Taguchi had seen the King without his clothes on plenty of occasions (seeing as it was part of his job description to dress and undress the King on a daily basis), but he still found his mouth dry at the sight of strong shoulders and smooth skin.
The soft sound of water splashing broke him out of his daze. Taguchi hurried to attend to the King as he settled into the large basin. He was by the King’s side in a moment, cloth in hand, in case the King required assistance.
King Kamenashi considered him for a moment before wordlessly stretching out an arm. Taguchi moved to kneel beside the basin when a wince unwillingly escaped him; the quick movement pulled on muscles still strained from his fight with Sir Koki.
“What’s wrong?” The King eyed him with curiosity.
Taguchi shook his head and smiled. He then took the King’s arm gently and washed it by running the cloth down the arm. He was paying extra attention to each finger when the hand suddenly withdrew and he felt something wet caressing the side of his face.
Droplets of water ran from the King’s fingers onto Taguchi’s skin and down his cheeks. A thumb stroked his jaw line, from under his ear to his chin. Then he felt tge fingers under his chin, angling his face to the side, the thumb caressing the region of his jaw close to his ear.
“What is this?” The King asked.
Taguchi knew without having to ask that the King was referring to the cut on his jaw, the cut that Sir Koki had made with Sakura during the match that had allowed him to complete the third task.
“An accident in the kitchen, sire,” he said.
King Kamenashi smirked. “Probably tripped over your own feet.”
“Well, I do possess rather long legs, if I may say so myself.”
A hand waved at him dismissively, flicking water all over Taguchi’s shirt.
“Yes, I suppose you do, you probably have legs as long as that bastar-” The King paused, as if surprised by his own words and train of thought. Then he looked at Taguchi. Taguchi felt himself freeze from the way the King seemed to scrutinise him. After a moment, however, the King burst out laughing.
Water sloshed from the basin onto the floor as the King stomped his feet, body quaking with laughter. When he finally calmed down, King Kamenashi looked at Taguchi with an amused expression and ran a wet hand through his hair.
Taguchi barely avoided choking on his own saliva.
“I just thought of something ridiculous,” the King said. “So ridiculous that it’s actually hilarious.”
“Yes, sire,” Taguchi replied absentmindedly, eyes glued to the way water droplets ran down the sides of the King’s face and along his Adam’s apple.
Taguchi licked his lips, distracted.
The King then leaned back, tilting his head to rest it on the edge of the bath.
“My head hurts now,” he said and promptly closed his eyes.
Taguchi reached for the bottle of Lavender oil and hurriedly moved to kneel behind the King. With his fingers coated in the scented oil, he gently massaged the King’s temples.
“Mmmm…” King Kamenashi moaned in pleasure and Taguchi’s body jerked slightly with excitement. He tried hard to suppress a groan.
The next day found Taguchi turning over his shoulder to see King Kamenashi’s eyes constantly watching him with a strange sort of interest that made Taguchi’s heart shout success. He would be in the middle of a one-sided conversation with Sir Koki retelling the tale of Sakura’s abduction, or funning at Advisor Nakamaru’s expense, cracking a pun about the size of his nose and how it was rumoured to relate to sexual prowess, when his neck would prickle.
He’d smile winningly at the King who he expected to look away with a bashful flush to his cheeks, but far from looking embarrassed at being caught with his newfound interest in his manservant, the King merely shrugged and returned with a smile that failed to crease his eyes. While a part of Taguchi found this behaviour odd, he was too busy soaking in the attention to question the King’s intent.
Take now, for example, when the King was standing at behind his back, sniffing at his neck.
“You mustn’t let your servants see you on your tiptoes, sire,” Taguchi said in amusement. “They would hang themselves for not being able to provide you with a stool like the last time.”
There was a clack as the heels of King Kamenashi’s boots toppled back onto the ground.
“What last time?”
Or maybe I should be hanging myself, Taguchi thought, biting at his lip to think of a quick explanation before swivelling around to face the King with a perky smile.
“At the court, your grace. I was among the audience when you interrogated the Flash.”
The King blinked innocently without a speck of suspicion. “Oh, were you? Well then, Junno, tell me what you thought of him.”
“He’s a down right bastard,” Taguchi answered swiftly before loyally adding, “although I do find his jokes rather amusing.”
“His jokes? Care to share one with me? I’m in the mood to have a laugh, myself.” The King twinkled up at him, waiting.
Thrilled at the opportunity to tickle the King’s humour while he was in a more sober state of mind, and thus one he was more likely to remember in, Taguchi asked, “Well, your grace, have you heard of what the clock did when it was hungry? It-”
“Went back for seconds,” the King’s voice overlapped Taguchi’s.
Taguchi stilled, staring at the King who stared back for a moment before doubling over with a high-pitched chortle. Feeling relief well up inside him, Taguchi smiled fondly at the jumble of brown curls that had fallen into the King’s face, shading his eyes.
“I suppose you had heard that one before.”
“Naturally,” the King replied. His face had heightened in colour but his expression remained blank and cool; a faint tightness curled his lips into a smirk that bordered on a snarl. “I am the King, after all. I know everything… sooner or later.”
With that, the King turned on his heel and strutted down the hall, his cape slinking after him through his chamber doors until they slammed shut.
The doors to the King’s chambers remained obstinately closed for the remainder of the day. When reminded that he’d have to open them to access the washrooms, the King pointed out that he had a window complete with a balcony and that he was sure his subjects wouldn’t object to seeing his royal bits out in the open. Even Advisor Nakamaru’s threat of donning red underpants again failed to produce a desirable response (although it did make Sir Koki pause and look at the Advisor in a new light: “Red? Really? All this time… I wouldn’t have pegged you as the sort.”).
“What happened?” Koki asked Taguchi in the hallway. “Did the cook forget to pick out the tomatoes in his lunch? Or did his eyebrows grow in again? He’s awfully sensitive about them. And his clothes. And hair. Can never forget the hair. I remember when we were wee lads and somebody-”
The doors were suddenly thrown open, the King standing between them with a dramatic aura that shone as bright as his crown; in actuality, he was really just standing directly under the candled chandelier. Sir Koki reflexively kneeled down on to his knee to which King Kamenashi responded with an impatient tsk.
“Get up, Koki. There’s no one around to see right now.” The King’s gaze pinned onto Taguchi and narrowed as he spoke to them all. “I would like an audience with the Flash. I’ve readied the final task and as such I suggest that you ready the gaols for a permanent visitor.”
“Wait, so you locked yourself in your room like a teenaged maiden to angst away about the Flash?” Koki asked and shot Nakamaru and Taguchi a suggestive grin which they wisely ignored.
“Thank you, Sir Koki. I advise you begin clearing horse dung out of the stables now because you will not be permitted into the dining hall until all twenty-three of them have been cleaned.”
“Wha-”
“Advisor Nakamaru, I put you in charge of ensuring that Sir Koki follows through on his duties. If not, I fear I will be persuaded to purchase that rhinestone studded cape I had set my eyes on a couple days prior. Surely you remember the one, don’t you? The price had sent you into embarrassing hysterics.”
Taguchi watched Advisor Nakamaru turn pale, as if remembering a past trauma, and awaited his punishment in silent anxiety.
“Junno, my most loyal, trusted, and dangerously handsome manservant,” the King spoke with a clipped voice, icicles dangling from his every word, “I request that you bring the Flash to my chambers within the hour. My doors will open only then.”
With that, the King retreated to his seclusion once more with another slam of the doors. Sir Koki turned to him with a betrayed expression that made Taguchi fall into a panic which he soon realised was false.
“How come you get away with everything?” Sir Koki cried. “I get stuck with shit while you get to play messenger boy.”
“I’m lucky, I guess,” Taguchi responded with a half-hearted shrug, his insides sloshing around in a sickly fashion. Whether he really did he did get away with everything now depended on the final task. Along with his ability to charm the King’s pants off.
“You sent your servant to fetch me?” Taguchi said, now standing in the middle of the King’s chambers with his beard twitching along with his lips. The King sat perched on the edge of the desk he hardly used, leaving the bulk of the paperwork in his Advisor’s capable and super soft hands. Or so Taguchi had heard.
The King’s feet dangled in the air, crossed at the ankles, and while the reminder of his short stature made Taguchi’s heart beat with fondness, the King’s stormy expression was anything but.
“So I take it you met my manservant,” the King said with an air of lightness that was so plainly an act it was painful. “His name is Junno, or so he says. One can’t trust one’s own servants these days…”
Sensing that the conversation was heading down a slippery slope, Taguchi tried to redirect it.
“Being quite broke at the moment, I wouldn’t know, sire. But I was told you had the fourth task ready for me and I am eager to please you.”
The King gave a bark of laugh that lasted all but two seconds. “Are you truly? Well then, we’ll get to business when I see fit. As for your empty pouch, I see your belly looks full. And your skin is glowing compared to the waxy complexion you brought to my court. Seems to me you’ve been living like a king.”
“If only, sire. I find that a bath in the stream and even a half loaf stolen from the baker’s are enough to revive a failing spirit. And the pear trees are flourishing beautifully so one can never risk starving in your kingdom even if they tried.”
“Well said. Incorrect, but well said,” the King returned with an alarming glint in his eyes. “It is more than possible to die of starvation in my gaols, as you will soon learn.”
“That depends, my King, on your task. I will not fail you.”
A huff and the King hopped down from his desk, unclipped his cape so that it slinked to his feet in a pile of mauve, and stalked forwards with his hips sashaying in a manner that was meant to distract.
“Yes, yes, we’ll get to that-you really are strangely eager to meet your end,” the King whispered, close enough to plant the palm of his hot hand flat against Taguchi’s breast, “but first I have some questions.”
This would be the time to abort and back away, to flee while the King’s men were busy at the stables and never look back. Instead, Taguchi found himself releasing a guttural groan as the King’s other hand slipped lower and did things that would make Sir Koki blush, Yamashita applaud, and Advisor Nakamaru faint.
It wasn’t every day that one was groped by the most dashing King in the realm.
Taguchi was only upset that the King’s lonely hands had chosen the Flash, the bearded criminal, over Junno, the hottest manservant to have ever served. But, he supposed, the King did have his quirks and Taguchi was willing to let the King fondle his beard all day if only he would continue with his ministrations.
“A-ask a-aw-away,” Taguchi panted and suddenly felt something pointy at his back. Well that escalated fast, Taguchi thought dizzily before it registered that the King was at his front and thus couldn’t be at his back at the same time unless there were two of him like there were two of Taguchi, only there was only one Taguchi who was turning into putty and was about to create a mess if the King didn’t-
“Ow!” Taguchi yelped as he felt a sharp pinch along the skin of his jaw and stared wide-eyed at his beard which now hung from the King’s hand like a diseased rodent. The King’s other hand came up to trace a cool fingertip over the cut near his ear, an almost reverent touch to confirm every suspicion. Taguchi swallowed down his whine and said as calmly as he could after being groped and abandoned so thoroughly, “You play dirty, my King. That was unfair.”
King Kamenashi surged forward with a ferocious growl, meeting him chest-to-chest until the edge of the desk bit at Taguchi’s back painfully to match the vicious grip on his left upper arm. On any other occasion, Taguchi would have revelled in such a display of masculine virility but what would have been an arousing experience was dampened by the betrayed hurt that moistened the King’s eyes and was masqueraded instead as anger.
Taguchi felt his insides curdle and found the bruises blooming along his back and arm well deserved.
“So what is it you came for? My crown? You’ve had plenty of opportunities to get at it, so why haven’t you? What is it that you want?” the King hissed so closely that Taguchi could taste the desperation in his very breath, his hardened eyes scouring Taguchi’s face like steel wool, searching and memorising. “I’d like to know before I send you to waste away in the gaols, my beloved Junno.”
Beloved.
Taguchi’s heart stuttered and it spilled out before he could tack on any finesse or fanciful phrase.
“You, your grace. I want you.”
There. Simple and as bare as Taguchi’s face.
King Kamenashi ripped away from him, unimpressed, a look of utmost disgust-one that even Advisor Nakamaru’s era of sporting long tresses hadn’t garnered-contorting his face before he turned and walked to his bedside table, crushing Taguchi’s heart underfoot with every step.
There, he lifted the lid of a red box that sat atop the table and plucked from it a cube of the finest chocolate the Nashi Kingdom had to offer, and turned to face Taguchi once more.
“Too bad for you, then,” said the King with a spark of cold revenge and lifted the chocolate to his lips as he spoke. “Your fourth task is to retrieve this piece of chocolate. Your failure to do so will follow with a farewell.”
How Taguchi managed to cross the spacious chamber of the King’s quarters in a flash, the legends couldn’t say, but it was commonly known that he managed to reach the King before he could swallow down the milk-chocolate delicacy.
Grabbing the King by his wide shoulders, Taguchi drew him close and whispered right against his lips, “I promised you earlier, your grace, that my reputation is true. I make sure to get what I want.”
Insistently prying the King’s lips open with his own, Taguchi began his search. Such an expedition was also known as a kiss-a first kiss, to be exact. There were many detours and back-tracking and peering into crevices, but at last Taguchi found what he was looking for.
He pulled back with a thoughtful look. “That wasn’t milk-chocolate. It was dark chocolate.”
The King hummed and swayed for a moment, as if tipsy on Taguchi.
“Left a bitter taste in your mouth, did I? Serves you right,” the King said with a raspy breath and hooded eyes that kindled with wickedness and made Taguchi question the existence of clothes as well as the livelihood of his own heart.
“According to your rules, I’m afraid my task isn’t complete until I return to you whatever I steal…” Taguchi whispered and tugged his King closer once more.
For the very first time, the King’s crown was tilted askew.
Epilogue
Humming a mindless tune, Taguchi sat at the King’s feet, tying his dragon hide boots as a smaller pair of hands played with his hair.
“You sure are taking your sweet time. I didn’t know you liked it down there so much,” Kazuya drawled, a smirk in his voice. “Isn’t it rough on your knees?”
Laces now knotted, Taguchi moved up, sliding his hands along Kazuya’s thighs before teasingly moving them away to adjust his silk neck cloth.
“I did offer you my body along with my life, knees included. My life and knees are all yours,” Taguchi murmured and moved to a stand to fetch the King’s crown and place it delicately on Kazuya’s head. The pear-shaped ruby shone brilliantly in the center and Taguchi admired his handy work for he had spent the past hour polishing it as Kazuya slept, exhausted from their midnight excursions.
“I do wonder at what you choose to do with me, though-not that I mind in the least. Quite the opposite, really. A plot to steal Queen Tegoshi’s gowns and the most prized hair stylist from the Kay Populous Isles-no one will suspect you’re behind it all.”
“I know,” Kazuya said impishly and looked up expectantly.
Sighing inwardly and yet not able to stop a smile from twitching to life, Taguchi leaned down to plant a kiss on Kazuya’s forehead. Earlier, Kazuya had complained that Taguchi’s height made him grow a crick in his neck and thus refused to lean up again: “I’m a King. If you want kisses, you bend down and get them yourself.”
Of course, the rule applied when Kazuya wanted kisses as well.
Taguchi watched the same small smile that signaled that Kazuya was very pleased-but dare not show it for Kings were supposed to be haughty, not giddy-appear and kissed him again, this time on the lips.
“M-move, I need to check my hair,” Kazuya said once Taguchi had pulled back. Taguchi obediently moved aside in silent amusement and watched Kazuya’s cheeks glow through the dresser mirror. Their eyes caught through the reflection and Kazuya flushed deeper. “You’re annoying.”
“May I ask why you keep me under foot, then?”
Kazuya smirked and curled a lock of hair about his finger before flicking it into a bouncy curl. “Why bother with the hassle of pillaging when I have you, the legendary Flash at my disposal?”
“Hmm,” Taguchi said and walked to the window, the wind caressing his face before he turned back to face Kazuya through the mirror with a grin. “I thought thievery was a crime, your grace.”
Kazuya’s eyebrows furrowed momentarily. “I told you not to call me that. And it’s not a crime if you don’t get caught-which I know you won’t.”
“Oh?”
"The rumours don't underestimate you. I’ve tested your resourcefulness, perseverance, and courage,” Kazuya answered and walked to stand next to him by the window ledge. “Thus far you've managed to steal the sandals off a boorish Baron's very feet, the undergarments of the kingdom's most severe prude, and the sword of my most loyal Knight.”
Taguchi watched the wind tousle Kazuya’s hair into tasteful disarray.
“And your heart, my lord? I believe I’ve safely claimed that as well.” Kazuya stilled, a hand frozen in his hair where it tried in vain to keep his curls from flying. Taguchi grabbed it and brought it to his lips. “May I keep it, too?”
After a moment’s pause, Kazuya’s eyes fluttered upwards and he said in a voice so soft that Taguchi could only grasp it through their proximity, “I don’t go back on my words.”
Before Taguchi could respond with a confession of his own and twist the scene into one from a romantic novella, Kazuya snatched his hand back and added tersely, “If you ever call me ‘my lord’ or ‘your grace’ or anything stupid like that again, I’ll hang you. Even Koki doesn’t call me that I’ve never once shared my bed with him. …Although we did get quite close to it that one time. Oh, and that time too! And then there was that night, and then when-Hmm, I suppose there were many times, actually.”
Taguchi frowned. “What times?”
When he crossed his arms in a petulant refusal to budge, Kazuya burst out in laughter before tugging Taguchi down by his neck cloth and giving him a hard kiss. It proved to be a sufficient distraction, one that Taguchi had regrettably let Kazuya discover and use as his weapon of choice.
“Never mind that-you can complain when you catch us in a tryst, but considering that Koki is rumoured to be enamoured with a harlot who I suspect is of the male persuasion, that won’t be happening anytime soon.”
“At all, you mean,” Taguchi corrected firmly.
“Yes, that,” Kazuya confirmed with mischief dancing in his crinkling eyes. “Now if you’re done with the fits, I’ve an assignment for you, one that will prove to be splendidly entertaining…”
Advisor Nakamaru was, quite frankly, not paid enough for his duties and what he had to endure at the orders of King Kamenashi. He lead a quiet life, silently adhering to what was right and his virtues, until the fateful day he decided to work for the King. Ever since, an ever present migraine had taken up a quarter of his brain and he could no longer sleep at night without dreaming of the King wasting away the kingdom’s fortune on his whim-of-the-day.
Upon waking to such nightmares, Nakamaru found comfort in the fact that the King didn’t really have a fortune to squandor; whatever trinkets he acquired were through gifts-his coin pouch filled by auctioning off the ones that didn’t take his fancy-and exchanges and the occasional flattery and charm that won him favour everywhere. On his good days, Nakamaru couldn’t deny the soft spot he kept for the King as well-but today was no such day.
After penning and mailing an urgent letter to his tailor, Nakamaru donned his longest set of robes and snuck out of his room. He could feel the tips of his ears redden whenever he passed someone in the corridor and took care to walk with short strides lest his robes billowed up. The walk was unexpectedly pleasantly airy, although Nakamaru would never say so out loud.
At last he arrived at the dining hall where he had heard the King was indulging in a short luncheon and, with a curt knock, was told to come in.
The doors clicked shut behind him.
“My pants. WHERE ARE MY PANTS. I can’t believe you stole them-all of them!”
King Kamenashi paused from where he sat at the head of the long table, munching on a plump pear. Taguchi stood next to him, wiping the juice that trickled down his fingers, his shoulders quivering suspiciously.
“Pants? Stole?” King Kamenashi blinked owlishly at his heaving chest before leaning back with a leer. “So you aren’t wearing them, then? My oh my… My apologies, Queen Tegoshi, my Advisor is known to be rather risqué.”
Queen Tegoshi, who sat at the King’s right and was heavily guarded by at least fifty men who, Nakamaru just now noticed, stood lining the walls, tittered and scanned Nakamaru from head to foot in a way that made him feel as if the King had stolen his robes, too.
“I am always fond of the eccentric ones. Why don’t I lighten my load and lend him some of my extra skirts?”
Nakamaru choked.
“It would be an honour,” King Kamenashi finished in his stead, his chalice raised in the air in a toast. “To Nakamaru, the man who dares to live on the edge. No more pants!”
“No more pants,” Queen Tegoshi echoed solemnly.
And thus another legend was born.
The End