Safe & Sound
Title: Safe & Sound (Ch. 1 of ?)
Rating: R-NC-17 (as the fic progresses)
Pairing(s): GD/Top, possible other pairings
Length: 2,386
Genre: AU
Summary: Lore speaks of creatures that live in the woods and steal children from their beds.
Warnings: sex, violence, all the good stuff.
Note: There are some inconsistencies with tense but I'm having a hard time fixing them, so excuse the flow if you notice it.
A traveling troupe, filled with dancers and animals, fire breathers, sword eaters, the scary, the weird, the fascinating, a circus of sorts, always moving and packing, always on the move and bringing entertainment to each place they stopped. Jiyong’s eyes canvassed the movement of his people, the gypsies, and wanderers of the land, finding their home in freedom. He grinned and strummed the strings along the worn out mahogany of his guitar, his voice rising in song as the caravans slipped past the gated community of a new town to entertain. Voices around him rose in a non-perfect harmony, the song of their journey rising in a cacophony of different voices, rough and sweet, high and deep.
When they finally came to a stop, in the middle of the town square, people bustled around preparing for the night ahead. Seungho, his fellow minstrel, walked toward him, drum attached loosely around his body.
“Looks like we came at the right time. It’s apparently their new year festivities.” Seungho crouched down, resting on the balls of his feet, his drum sliding off his body to rest in front of him. With careful precision he began a loud slow beat, hands moving as if they were a part of the instrument itself, others around him stopping their work and turned to the sound. He saw his sister Dami pluck out the wooden flute she carried with her always, a remnant of their family history, its old polished wood gleaming in the glow of the roaring bonfire that seemed to sprout up in mere moments.
The light trill of the flute mixed within the hypnotic pounding of the drum soon had villagers and gypsies swirling in laughter and dance. Shortly, Hyuksoo and Kyungil began to dance and spit fire, the loud gasps of villagers filtering through the haze of smoke and smell. He watched Hyuksoo give him a tell-tale smirk and just barely sidestepped to miss the heat of flame that would have most likely singed off his eyebrows. Jiyong laughed despite this, it was just another added layer to the entertainment, danger interlaced with excitement, the comforting hands at his back and coins dropped in his hand made sure the danger was worth the price.
He could smell the spice of meat and food cooking in the little stalls that his people had sprouted up. His feet were carrying him in the direction his stomach wanted but he felt the small press of a hand to his back and a cheer for him to perform. His guitar was in his hand and he was strumming without a thought, the food long forgotten. The crowd lulled down as he sang the lilting song of his people, full of all the freedom and spirit they possessed, and soon it soared above the crowd and came to an end. Once he finished, the last pluck of his guitar sounding through the air, he came back to himself to a roaring applause.
The night preceded like this, with dancing, eating, drinking, laughter, the intoxication of happiness gliding all around them, and when he started to wear out-sooner than he thought-he wandered away from the noise. Finding a spot he thought perfect for his tent he began to unpack.
“Need some help?” Jiyong twirled around in fright at the sound of a voice. Hyuksoo flashed his characteristic smile, the one hardly different from the smirk shot at him during the fire breathing performance, and moved closer for him to see his face, the dark eyes framed by a mane of even darker, silken hair.
“Your idea of help involves watching and sleeping in the tent with me when I finish.”
“I provide body warmth isn’t that help enough?” Jiyong rolled his eyes at the comment and motioned for him to assist. He watched Hyuksoo heave an exasperated sigh but he walked over to help anyway. They eventually had a well constructed tent for two when all was finished and Jiyong tossed a worn out pillow Hyuksoo’s way.
This resulted in a fifteen minute, highly unmanly, pillow fight, with them both on the ground and heaving in laughter. The laughter soon resolved into kisses and they were fighting for air instead. Jiyong wouldn’t call himself promiscuous, even though most gypsies were considered that way and he’d slept with his fare share of people, he just enjoyed the touch and sensuality of humans, like many other travelers. More often than not people assumed them to be sellers of physical pleasure and not just entertainment. And while no gypsy refuted this, it really wasn’t what they did, and if anyone ever were to get too touchy with a gypsy male or female without consent his people had ways of dealing with them that were whispered about behind closed doors at night.
Hyuksoo, on the other hand, had no problem bedding more than half the people in their troupe, and while Jiyong disliked knowing that fact, he and Hyuksoo had a passion that seemed to mutually burn between them. He was surprised Hyuksoo hadn’t stolen one of the many maidens wandering about; even without alcohol in their systems he was certainly handsome and suave enough to steal them away for a night. And without the watchful eyes of their parents it should have been easy enough. But the fire breather had his mouth wrapped tightly around Jiyong’s cock and he wasn’t going to say anything at the moment to dissuade him to stop.
They weren’t in the tent and Jiyong knew if any other member grew tired and headed this way they would come upon him in a compromising situation. While almost all the troupe had seen him grow up and helped wash him when he was younger he didn’t want to deal with the leers or obnoxious jokes that could come of the situation (a previous tryst between his sister and Kyungil had resulted in incessant teasing so bad Jiyong had flown into a frenzy at any man that so much as looked at his sister, of course, she only laughed it off and kicked anyone who tried to tease her in the balls, he realized then his brotherly protection was useless most of the time).
He tried to speak but Hyuksoo, not one for caring about getting caught or propriety, swallowed him down more and did that wonderful thing with his tongue that only fire breathers learn. Jiyong couldn’t do much else, his eyes forced back into his skull while he moaned out, each sound lost to the night sky.
He wouldn’t have this though, he had to force his eyes open and attempt to regain his bearings. He lifted up on his elbows to stare down at Hyuksoo. He watched Hyuksoo’s curtain of black hair fall over his stomach, hiding the lips he had mapped out with his own over the years, and reached a hand out to tangle within. Hyuksoo moaned around him and he gripped tighter around the strands.
He could hear faint laughter and music filtering toward him, the glow of the fire just seeping through the sea of already set up tents and he stared wide-eyed on the brink of explosive pleasure. His eyes caught on something in the dim darkness of the woods just to the side of him and he’s sure his current state of alcohol and sexual pleasure made him see things. In the shadow but as pearly white as the moon itself stood a woman far more exquisite than any person he’d ever seen. Her eyes bore down on him and trapped him beneath black pools, her hair blacker than raven’s feathers, they were raven’s feathers, shimmered from the firelight, and her full red lips glistened and spread in a dazzling smile that made his breath catch and his world spin. The very sight of her and the feel of Hyuksoo’s lips brought him spilling into the mouth that ground him to the earth while the other, cherry red lips, seemed to whisper in his ear begging him to release for her. And he did. He gasped and fell to the ground in nothing but numb limbs and fluttering eyes.
He blinked his eyes open to an amused Hyuksoo leaning over him with a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Well, that’s a first. I guess I’ve gotten so good I can make you black out now, huh?”
Jiyong glanced at Hyuksoo, feeling far too dazed to think straight. Hyuksoo smirked at him more and shifted to wrap a hand around his waist.
“It’s alright baby. No need to speak if you can’t.”
“Oh my god, stop!” Jiyong slapped a hand at Hyuksoo and rolled over to go to sleep. His limbs sagged as the feeling of fatigue finally hit him. Hyuksoo continued to laugh and he could hear the crescendo of the festivities as his eyes drifted open and closed. Things began to die down but Jiyong couldn’t find sleep.
He listened while Hyuksoo’s breath evened out and he counted the seconds in between each one hoping to fall asleep. It didn’t work and he was left staring into the edge of the woods thinking of a dark beauty with piercing eyes.
Jiyong stood, needing to alleviate himself, and wandered toward the woods. He skirted just inside the trees so that he wouldn’t be seen. He exhaled when finished and prepared to return to the warmth of his shared bed but found he couldn’t move, stopped by the rise of goosebumps on his skin. He peered into the depths of the forest and he knew he should hurry back to camp.
Gypsy lore often talked about things that stole young children away. He wasn’t a child though and while he believed such things (how could he not when gypsy fortune telling used magic?) he didn’t believe they would happen here.
A gust of wind whipped through the trees and pushed on his body causing him to step forward to regain his balance. He is forced to step on a branch causing him to twist his feet and fall forward. He held his arms out as he prepared to land on his face. His body was caught however. Jiyong froze as hands pulled him right again. He prepared to thank whichever gypsy saved him-because that was a logical thing, another gypsy must be using the woods-instead he was met with the hollow eyes and a sunken face of something ghastly. Spindly arms that shouldn’t be able to hold him up (they appear to be thinner than twigs) lock around his body. He can’t move. His tongue felt knotted and the hot iron of fear coursed through him.
Jiyong met with silence all around him and a moment later he realized he was not by camp anymore. Trees surround him at every angle and he was lifted up into the hollowed face’s arms.
The nightmares of gypsy lore flitted all around him. Things of deep blood reds with empty eye sockets, things so beautiful it make him start to cry-alien eyes of varying colors, blues, crimsons, yellows; unnamed colors-things with wings-small creatures with razor sharp teeth. He watched one get stepped on by a creature built like a horse but with a man’s body. No one cared or noticed the death but Jiyong did. His fright and tears lost amid the avalanche of creatures that headed in one direction (they all watched him their gazes and smiles turning wicked).
Jiyong tried to speak but his voice was washed away by the tide of movement and chatter surrounding him. Some speech he could understand while others he knew were ancient languages, probably never heard by mankind. He shifted trying to escape, his flight or fight mode kicking in. A long-fingered hand grabbed at his head and before he could think darkness met his eyes.
Jiyong dreamed of things far too beautiful and frightening to be real.
He dreamed of a man with blue hair and eyes of midnight. The man whispered in his ear, while his hand lit fire along Jiyong’s body. Jiyong was naked, tied up and exposed like a captured butterfly. But the man was there and Jiyong writhed for him, too far gone to notice the myriad of people watching. Jiyong moaned and cried for more as the man’s hand traveled down and wrapped around his length.
Jiyong was on fire, burning up from touch, unable to take his eyes off the chiseled face and dark eyes of the other. The man’s face was stoically masked as if what he was doing to Jiyong was commonplace.
Jiyong wanted the man’s lips on his, wanted to know what they tasted like, and he begged for them.
“Seunghyun aren’t you going to give the boy what he asks for?” A velvety voice drifted through to his ears but his mind couldn’t process it. He needed to be scared. He was scared of that voice but the man, Seunghyun, finally moved his body to lean over him.
He trapped Jiyong with his gaze before connecting their lips. And Jiyong had his back arched up to press against the other’s chest. Jiyong was swept away. An avalanche of feeling pulled at him and it was as if his heart would burst from his chest.
Jiyong gasped awake. He opened his eyes and stared around at darkness while his lips still seemed to be on fire-the whole dream leaving him with tears at the corner of his eyes and pressure in his lower body. Jiyong was trapped under a wave of emotions and wept. His dream was life-like and it felt real. He could still taste the other man on his tongue and it hurt. He shifted around to stand, trying to get his bearings, and realized he wasn’t at camp.
He glanced around and stopped dead in his tracks as the women with raven hair sat before him.
“Hello. You look so frightened. Don’t worry dear, you’re safe.”
Jiyong wanted to speak or at least scream. But he realized that would be insufficient to voice how he really felt. He stared at the smile that graced the woman’s features and attempted to hide the shiver that raced through him. It was the smile of a hunter who just captured the perfect prey.
Rating: R-NC-17 (as the fic progresses)
Pairing(s): GD/Top, possible other pairings
Length: 2,386
Genre: AU
Summary: Lore speaks of creatures that live in the woods and steal children from their beds.
Warnings: sex, violence, all the good stuff.
Note: There are some inconsistencies with tense but I'm having a hard time fixing them, so excuse the flow if you notice it.
A traveling troupe, filled with dancers and animals, fire breathers, sword eaters, the scary, the weird, the fascinating, a circus of sorts, always moving and packing, always on the move and bringing entertainment to each place they stopped. Jiyong’s eyes canvassed the movement of his people, the gypsies, and wanderers of the land, finding their home in freedom. He grinned and strummed the strings along the worn out mahogany of his guitar, his voice rising in song as the caravans slipped past the gated community of a new town to entertain. Voices around him rose in a non-perfect harmony, the song of their journey rising in a cacophony of different voices, rough and sweet, high and deep.
When they finally came to a stop, in the middle of the town square, people bustled around preparing for the night ahead. Seungho, his fellow minstrel, walked toward him, drum attached loosely around his body.
“Looks like we came at the right time. It’s apparently their new year festivities.” Seungho crouched down, resting on the balls of his feet, his drum sliding off his body to rest in front of him. With careful precision he began a loud slow beat, hands moving as if they were a part of the instrument itself, others around him stopping their work and turned to the sound. He saw his sister Dami pluck out the wooden flute she carried with her always, a remnant of their family history, its old polished wood gleaming in the glow of the roaring bonfire that seemed to sprout up in mere moments.
The light trill of the flute mixed within the hypnotic pounding of the drum soon had villagers and gypsies swirling in laughter and dance. Shortly, Hyuksoo and Kyungil began to dance and spit fire, the loud gasps of villagers filtering through the haze of smoke and smell. He watched Hyuksoo give him a tell-tale smirk and just barely sidestepped to miss the heat of flame that would have most likely singed off his eyebrows. Jiyong laughed despite this, it was just another added layer to the entertainment, danger interlaced with excitement, the comforting hands at his back and coins dropped in his hand made sure the danger was worth the price.
He could smell the spice of meat and food cooking in the little stalls that his people had sprouted up. His feet were carrying him in the direction his stomach wanted but he felt the small press of a hand to his back and a cheer for him to perform. His guitar was in his hand and he was strumming without a thought, the food long forgotten. The crowd lulled down as he sang the lilting song of his people, full of all the freedom and spirit they possessed, and soon it soared above the crowd and came to an end. Once he finished, the last pluck of his guitar sounding through the air, he came back to himself to a roaring applause.
The night preceded like this, with dancing, eating, drinking, laughter, the intoxication of happiness gliding all around them, and when he started to wear out-sooner than he thought-he wandered away from the noise. Finding a spot he thought perfect for his tent he began to unpack.
“Need some help?” Jiyong twirled around in fright at the sound of a voice. Hyuksoo flashed his characteristic smile, the one hardly different from the smirk shot at him during the fire breathing performance, and moved closer for him to see his face, the dark eyes framed by a mane of even darker, silken hair.
“Your idea of help involves watching and sleeping in the tent with me when I finish.”
“I provide body warmth isn’t that help enough?” Jiyong rolled his eyes at the comment and motioned for him to assist. He watched Hyuksoo heave an exasperated sigh but he walked over to help anyway. They eventually had a well constructed tent for two when all was finished and Jiyong tossed a worn out pillow Hyuksoo’s way.
This resulted in a fifteen minute, highly unmanly, pillow fight, with them both on the ground and heaving in laughter. The laughter soon resolved into kisses and they were fighting for air instead. Jiyong wouldn’t call himself promiscuous, even though most gypsies were considered that way and he’d slept with his fare share of people, he just enjoyed the touch and sensuality of humans, like many other travelers. More often than not people assumed them to be sellers of physical pleasure and not just entertainment. And while no gypsy refuted this, it really wasn’t what they did, and if anyone ever were to get too touchy with a gypsy male or female without consent his people had ways of dealing with them that were whispered about behind closed doors at night.
Hyuksoo, on the other hand, had no problem bedding more than half the people in their troupe, and while Jiyong disliked knowing that fact, he and Hyuksoo had a passion that seemed to mutually burn between them. He was surprised Hyuksoo hadn’t stolen one of the many maidens wandering about; even without alcohol in their systems he was certainly handsome and suave enough to steal them away for a night. And without the watchful eyes of their parents it should have been easy enough. But the fire breather had his mouth wrapped tightly around Jiyong’s cock and he wasn’t going to say anything at the moment to dissuade him to stop.
They weren’t in the tent and Jiyong knew if any other member grew tired and headed this way they would come upon him in a compromising situation. While almost all the troupe had seen him grow up and helped wash him when he was younger he didn’t want to deal with the leers or obnoxious jokes that could come of the situation (a previous tryst between his sister and Kyungil had resulted in incessant teasing so bad Jiyong had flown into a frenzy at any man that so much as looked at his sister, of course, she only laughed it off and kicked anyone who tried to tease her in the balls, he realized then his brotherly protection was useless most of the time).
He tried to speak but Hyuksoo, not one for caring about getting caught or propriety, swallowed him down more and did that wonderful thing with his tongue that only fire breathers learn. Jiyong couldn’t do much else, his eyes forced back into his skull while he moaned out, each sound lost to the night sky.
He wouldn’t have this though, he had to force his eyes open and attempt to regain his bearings. He lifted up on his elbows to stare down at Hyuksoo. He watched Hyuksoo’s curtain of black hair fall over his stomach, hiding the lips he had mapped out with his own over the years, and reached a hand out to tangle within. Hyuksoo moaned around him and he gripped tighter around the strands.
He could hear faint laughter and music filtering toward him, the glow of the fire just seeping through the sea of already set up tents and he stared wide-eyed on the brink of explosive pleasure. His eyes caught on something in the dim darkness of the woods just to the side of him and he’s sure his current state of alcohol and sexual pleasure made him see things. In the shadow but as pearly white as the moon itself stood a woman far more exquisite than any person he’d ever seen. Her eyes bore down on him and trapped him beneath black pools, her hair blacker than raven’s feathers, they were raven’s feathers, shimmered from the firelight, and her full red lips glistened and spread in a dazzling smile that made his breath catch and his world spin. The very sight of her and the feel of Hyuksoo’s lips brought him spilling into the mouth that ground him to the earth while the other, cherry red lips, seemed to whisper in his ear begging him to release for her. And he did. He gasped and fell to the ground in nothing but numb limbs and fluttering eyes.
He blinked his eyes open to an amused Hyuksoo leaning over him with a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Well, that’s a first. I guess I’ve gotten so good I can make you black out now, huh?”
Jiyong glanced at Hyuksoo, feeling far too dazed to think straight. Hyuksoo smirked at him more and shifted to wrap a hand around his waist.
“It’s alright baby. No need to speak if you can’t.”
“Oh my god, stop!” Jiyong slapped a hand at Hyuksoo and rolled over to go to sleep. His limbs sagged as the feeling of fatigue finally hit him. Hyuksoo continued to laugh and he could hear the crescendo of the festivities as his eyes drifted open and closed. Things began to die down but Jiyong couldn’t find sleep.
He listened while Hyuksoo’s breath evened out and he counted the seconds in between each one hoping to fall asleep. It didn’t work and he was left staring into the edge of the woods thinking of a dark beauty with piercing eyes.
Jiyong stood, needing to alleviate himself, and wandered toward the woods. He skirted just inside the trees so that he wouldn’t be seen. He exhaled when finished and prepared to return to the warmth of his shared bed but found he couldn’t move, stopped by the rise of goosebumps on his skin. He peered into the depths of the forest and he knew he should hurry back to camp.
Gypsy lore often talked about things that stole young children away. He wasn’t a child though and while he believed such things (how could he not when gypsy fortune telling used magic?) he didn’t believe they would happen here.
A gust of wind whipped through the trees and pushed on his body causing him to step forward to regain his balance. He is forced to step on a branch causing him to twist his feet and fall forward. He held his arms out as he prepared to land on his face. His body was caught however. Jiyong froze as hands pulled him right again. He prepared to thank whichever gypsy saved him-because that was a logical thing, another gypsy must be using the woods-instead he was met with the hollow eyes and a sunken face of something ghastly. Spindly arms that shouldn’t be able to hold him up (they appear to be thinner than twigs) lock around his body. He can’t move. His tongue felt knotted and the hot iron of fear coursed through him.
Jiyong met with silence all around him and a moment later he realized he was not by camp anymore. Trees surround him at every angle and he was lifted up into the hollowed face’s arms.
The nightmares of gypsy lore flitted all around him. Things of deep blood reds with empty eye sockets, things so beautiful it make him start to cry-alien eyes of varying colors, blues, crimsons, yellows; unnamed colors-things with wings-small creatures with razor sharp teeth. He watched one get stepped on by a creature built like a horse but with a man’s body. No one cared or noticed the death but Jiyong did. His fright and tears lost amid the avalanche of creatures that headed in one direction (they all watched him their gazes and smiles turning wicked).
Jiyong tried to speak but his voice was washed away by the tide of movement and chatter surrounding him. Some speech he could understand while others he knew were ancient languages, probably never heard by mankind. He shifted trying to escape, his flight or fight mode kicking in. A long-fingered hand grabbed at his head and before he could think darkness met his eyes.
Jiyong dreamed of things far too beautiful and frightening to be real.
He dreamed of a man with blue hair and eyes of midnight. The man whispered in his ear, while his hand lit fire along Jiyong’s body. Jiyong was naked, tied up and exposed like a captured butterfly. But the man was there and Jiyong writhed for him, too far gone to notice the myriad of people watching. Jiyong moaned and cried for more as the man’s hand traveled down and wrapped around his length.
Jiyong was on fire, burning up from touch, unable to take his eyes off the chiseled face and dark eyes of the other. The man’s face was stoically masked as if what he was doing to Jiyong was commonplace.
Jiyong wanted the man’s lips on his, wanted to know what they tasted like, and he begged for them.
“Seunghyun aren’t you going to give the boy what he asks for?” A velvety voice drifted through to his ears but his mind couldn’t process it. He needed to be scared. He was scared of that voice but the man, Seunghyun, finally moved his body to lean over him.
He trapped Jiyong with his gaze before connecting their lips. And Jiyong had his back arched up to press against the other’s chest. Jiyong was swept away. An avalanche of feeling pulled at him and it was as if his heart would burst from his chest.
Jiyong gasped awake. He opened his eyes and stared around at darkness while his lips still seemed to be on fire-the whole dream leaving him with tears at the corner of his eyes and pressure in his lower body. Jiyong was trapped under a wave of emotions and wept. His dream was life-like and it felt real. He could still taste the other man on his tongue and it hurt. He shifted around to stand, trying to get his bearings, and realized he wasn’t at camp.
He glanced around and stopped dead in his tracks as the women with raven hair sat before him.
“Hello. You look so frightened. Don’t worry dear, you’re safe.”
Jiyong wanted to speak or at least scream. But he realized that would be insufficient to voice how he really felt. He stared at the smile that graced the woman’s features and attempted to hide the shiver that raced through him. It was the smile of a hunter who just captured the perfect prey.