Let Me Know [When We Get There]

[sooheaven_mods]

★ Title: Let Me Know [When We Get There] for steponherneck ♡
★ Pairing: Kyungsoo/Luhan
★ Rating: NC-17
★ Length: 8500w
★ Warnings/Disclaimers: use of an aphrodisiac, inclusion of slaves for pleasure
★ Summary: Kyungsoo receives a gift he's not so sure he wants.



Kyungsoo lives by the sea.

Every morning he wakes to the sound of seagulls calling and waves crashing against the rocky shore along with the tinkling of the bell his mother rings by his door. She’s too polite to barge in now that he’s considered a man, but impatient enough to pace the hall ringing it louder until he pokes his head out and assures her he’s awake.

Kyungsoo opens his own curtains, props his own windows open to allow the fresh sea breeze into his room and picks his own clothing from his full closet. He’s still unused to the servants in the house - people paid to take care of things he’s most certainly capable of doing himself. Yet it’s a consequence of his family’s new lifestyle now that they’ve raised their status from gutter rats to one of the top merchants in the port.

He’d initially protested the new tenants, but his father told him it is to be expected and it will give a few of the people in need a home and food for the minimal work they’ll have to do. And Kyungsoo can’t see room to complain when the household chef cooks pastries that melt in his mouth even when he sneaks down to the kitchen at night to steal another after lights out.

Kyungsoo pokes his head out the window, smiling down at the bustling streets below. There are merchants and peddlers, carts of fresh baked breads and brightly colored fabrics, stands full of treats and toys from around the world. His father is responsible for a lot of the new trinkets and foods being shipped over and for that, Kyungsoo is proud. He’s quick to slip out of his room and through the winding halls that are slowly becoming familiar. At least he’s stopped running into the sharp corner where the hallway turns.

With a pilfered apple from the centerpiece his mother, no doubt, spent a lot of time arranging, Kyungsoo makes his way out of the house. It’s nestled in with all the other well-to-do families in town and he still feels unwelcome despite all their warm, faux greetings. It takes several turns for him to reach familiarity and Kyungsoo finally feels at home amongst the merchant stands and rickety shops.

Loud shouts mix into the din of the crowd even as the number of people dwindle. It’s late in the morning and most villagers choose to come out around dawn to snatch up the best catches, the largest loaves of bread, the most intricate of new jewelry from the ship that landed the night before. Kyungsoo passes by shops, greeting the owners as he heads for the docks.

There are ships anchored just offshore with longboats full of crates and crew and Kyungsoo takes it all in with a smile on his face. His father is already down at one of the docks, no doubt haggling with the captain of a ship over the price of his cargo. One day Kyungsoo will take over for him and usually he’s at his side, but every so often Kyungsoo manages to get a day to himself.

It’s with disappointment that he scans the area and doesn’t find the ship he’s looking for. It’s been over a year since Kyungsoo’s best friend, Jongin, ran from his responsibilities of being a nobleman’s son and boarded a ship as his father screamed at him from the docks. Every day he hopes Jongin’s ship comes in because he misses his friend dearly. There aren’t many who want to converse with someone such as him, still seeing his status as lowly despite the gold filling his family’s coffers.

Jongin had befriended Kyungsoo when they were children, running through the muddy gutters as his nursemaid gave chase. Jongin went through a lot of nursemaids and it’s through the generosity of his father that Kyungsoo’s family is doing so well. (Once it became clear that Jongin was going to sneak away down to cheap side no matter what to see his friend, the only solution his father found was to elevate Kyungsoo’s family rather than let his son sink to their level.)

Kyungsoo sighs and turns to head home, finally biting into his apple and wondering if there’s anything still leftover from breakfast. A few of the patrons along the road who do not recognize Kyungsoo as once being one of them give him sweeping bows as he passes when they take note of his silken shirts and leather pants. He’s not exactly dressed in a manner to draw attention, but draw it he does.

He kicks the mud off his boots at the door and then wipes the bottoms on the outside mat before entering his home - the one he’ll be soon leaving. His father has expressly told him that on his next birthday, in a few weeks time, he’ll be living in his own place with his own staff, and will report to him as a paid employee daily in preparation for taking over the business.

It isn’t as if he isn’t anticipating the change, but there’s been so many changes already that this counts as merely another turn in the road of his life. Granted it’s a much easier road to travel when his belly isn’t rumbling in hunger and his clothes aren’t more than sewn together patches holding the original cloth together, but it’s a known and well traversed path just the same. Poor or rich, Kyungsoo is still a slave to the family business.

The man in front of Kyungsoo is imposing, features sharp and eyes sharper, but it’s his hat that worries Kyungsoo the most. It’s mostly feathers, perched atop his head as this monstrosity that makes it appear as if there’s an exotic bird trying to eat him. His laughter is caught in his throat, watching and paying close attention to rapid speech in a thick accent as he tries to pawn his wares for a higher price than they can be sold for.

Kyungsoo may be young, but he is no fool. He’s been at his father’s side for years, watching as he deals and even though these items are worth more more than the items they bartered for when he was a child, he’s still not going to be taken for an idiot.

“I didn’t fall off the docks this morning and hit my head,” Kyungsoo begins with a frown. “These spices are far less rare than you claim and would turn no profit if I paid your asking price.”

The man smiles, slapping a hand on his thigh in his mirth. “Aye, you have your father’s wits about you, boy. Tell you what, I’ll shave two gold off the top.”

Kyungsoo taps his foot, arms folded across his chest. He may not be dressed in fancy robes - the heat calling for a white cotton shirt that can breathe, untied to mid-chest as the sun blazes overhead. It’s his legs that are bearing the brunt of the humidity, leather stuck to his skin, but it’s a sacrifice he has to make. And he knows dressing this way makes him look less intimidating, easier to dupe, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to let them.

“I’ll pay no more than five gold pieces for the lot, plus another six for the silk cloth.”

He’s eyed from head to toe, the captain sucking air through his teeth as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “You’re tougher than I thought, but you have a deal.”

They shake on it before Kyungsoo waves over one of his father’s employees, the man flanked by two guards because he’s carrying the pouch of gold. Kyungsoo hands over the coins and the captain has his crew begin loading up the crates to be moved to their storage sheds further inland. At the end of the day, Kyungsoo will head there himself to take an inventory of all he’s acquired and the worth before it’s split and distributed to street vendors and shop owners to be sold.

A bell rings out on the docks, shouts coming from several directions as another ship prepares to anchor. Kyungsoo glances out to the sea, heart faltering and mouth dropping when he takes notice of a very familiar ship - one that took his best friend away over a year ago. For a moment he refuses to believe his eyes, convinced his mind is playing tricks on him. He blinks, rubbing his eyes with his palms before looking again and it’s still the same ship.

Jongin is home.

Everything in him wants to run over and dive into the waters, swim up to the vessel and climb aboard to find his best friend. He wants to lay eyes on the only person who ever thought Kyungsoo would amount to anything and then he wants to punch him right in the face for leaving him behind. Fear alights in Kyungsoo, this terrible gnawing feeling in his gut. What if Jongin isn’t the same?

It’s been an entire year. A lot can happen to someone in a year, especially if that person is known for getting his nose into as much trouble as he can just for that rush of adrenaline. It keeps Kyungsoo rooted, his steps slow and calculated as he strolls down the lane and toward the end of the docks where the ship is slowly approaching. Uncertainties chip away at his composure as he watches the dockhands tie off the ship.

The crew trickles out in ones and twos and Kyungsoo stares at each of them in the hope that he’ll catch a glimpse of Jongin. Kyungsoo’s stomach sinks further with each disappointment, intent to catch the captain if he doesn’t spot Jongin soon. If he died, the least he can do is tell his family.

A figure jumps onto the wooden planks of the dock with a flourish, boots worn and clothing tattered, but still in one piece. His hair is long, nearly to his shoulders and his sun-kissed skin on display as he strides toward Kyungsoo with a smirk on all too familiar lips.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo breathes before he’s enveloped in a strong hug. Jongin smells like the sea - like salt and wood polish and a bit of whimsy.

“You look well,” is the first thing Jongin says when they pull apart. Kyungsoo’s laugh is unexpected and loud.

“That’s all? One year and you look well is all I get?” But Kyungsoo doesn’t really care. He’s missed Jongin so much that he’ll take anything at this point.

“I was kind of expecting you to hit me,” Jongin admits, looking, for once, sheepish and slightly repentant.

Kyungsoo snorts. “I thought about it, trust me.” Jongin stares at Kyungsoo likes he still doesn’t believe he’s there and Kyungsoo is confused because if anyone should be staring, it’s not Jongin. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jongin says with a shake of his head, slinging an arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulders and leading them away from the docks. Kyungsoo frowns, eyeing his friend skeptically. “It’s just,” Jongin stops and gestures at Kyungsoo with his free hand, “you’re not that pasty kid I left behind anymore.” Kyungsoo squares his shoulders, intending to lunge at Jongin for such a comment, but Jongin hops back with a laugh. “It’s a good thing, Soo. You’ve finally grown into yourself.” Jongin plasters himself to Kyungsoo’s side again with a brilliant smile on his face. “Now, buy your old friend a drink.”

The Sea Wench isn’t very busy for this time of day, most of the merchants out in the heat pouring in after they’ve closed up shop so Kyungsoo and Jongin have their pick of the tables. Jongin still manages to find one away from the windows and hidden in the shadows.

“It’s amazing out there,” Jongin says, eyes glazed over as he stares ahead blankly. “No duty, no responsibility, no titles. It was me and the ocean.” Kyungsoo looks at him with pursed lips and Jongin chuckles. “Ok, so it wasn’t all glamorous, but it was far better than here. I wasn’t the son of a noble. On that ship I worked for every meal, every drink, every pocket of gold for when we went ashore. I was treated the same as everyone else. It was liberating.”

“So why did you come back?”

Jongin looks lost, like he isn’t meant to be here and Kyungsoo has this sinking feeling that if Jongin stays, he may very well lose himself. “I’m needed here,” he finally answers.

Kyungsoo sighs and knocks his mug against Jongin’s before taking another gulp of ale. “Well, if it’s worth anything, I missed you.”

“Of course you did,” Jongin declares, the sadness disappearing and a grin taking its place. “I’m the best thing to ever come out of this cesspool!” Jongin takes a moment to appraise Kyungsoo. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Of course.”

Three more mugs full of ale and Jongin is listing against Kyungsoo’s side and he has no choice but to wrap arms firmly around Jongin so he doesn’t fall. It’s too early in the day to be in such a drunkenly state, however they’re heralding the return of his best friend. Kyungsoo glares at everyone they pass who has the gall to look down on Jongin’s sloppy footwork.

The docks are still bustling and Kyungsoo’s attention is drawn to a line of people being led from one of the ships and into a carriage. There are collars of metal around their necks, a thin chain attached to each and connected to the person in front to keep them all together. Kyungsoo’s seen plenty of slave traders pass through, but none such as this. Without realizing, he stops in his tracks to watch.

“I didn’t know they’d reached this far,” Jongin observes and Kyungsoo looks over to see his friend watching them too.

“Who?”

“Pleasure slaves,” Jongin explains. “Men and women bought at a young age and trained to please whomever buys them. They’re very popular in some of the countries I’ve been to. I got into a quarrel with this portly lord or somesuch who nearly had an entire harem of them! And my captain has one; kept him locked in his cabin most of the time. Although, on occasion, he’d fuck him on deck in front of the crew as punishment.”

Kyungsoo scowls, clucking his tongue. He’s never been good with some people being seen as less human than others simply because of their skin color or gender or their monetary status. “That sounds horrific.”

Jongin laughs, leaning further against Kyungsoo until he nearly topples over under the weight. “Don’t be so hasty in your judgement, Soo. I assure you, the pleasure slave enjoyed it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have misbehaved so much.”

Kyungsoo still doesn’t like it, but he can’t look away. Now that he knows what fate these people are bound to, he takes notice of the unblemished expanse of their skin on display, the softness of their hair and the way they seem to glide instead of walk. One of them - a man with piercing eyes and full pink lips - turns and just for a moment, gazes directly at Kyungsoo. He swallows and turns to Jongin who looks at him as if he knows every little thought that’s prancing through his head.

With Kyungsoo’s luck, Jongin probably does know. After all, Jongin’s the one who taught Kyungsoo how to properly love and appreciate a man and his body.

“It’s a shame,” Jongin drawls after they begin their journey back toward his home. “That lot is most likely headed right for the capital where the royals and high nobles will get their pick and there won’t be any left by the time they make it back to port.”

“You would want one?” Kyungsoo inquires.

“If I found the right one, yes.”

Kyungsoo wakes up with the bell outside his door and a mild headache and aching eyes. He’d had to stay late to take inventory of the day’s purchases last night because he’d taken an extended break with Jongin. And now he’s regretting it, albeit only mildly, because Jongin is finally back and he has someone to talk to again.

He calls out for his mother to stop, assuring her he’s quite awake without getting out of bed. All he needs is a few more minutes to pull himself together. A fresh breeze from the window serves to clear his head and he breathes it in deep.

Kyungsoo didn’t leave his window open last night.

He rolls over, nearly shrieking as he clutches his hand over his heart when he sees Jongin asleep beside him. Some things never change. It appears as if he still sleeps like the dead as well. Kyungsoo is tempted to push the man off his bed until he spies the bruise around Jongin’s eye and the fresh cut on his lip. The relationship between Jongin and his father has always been a rocky one - especially after the passing of Jongin’s mother nearly eight years ago - and Kyungsoo is actually relieved to see the damage seems to be superficial.

Jongin cracks opens his eyes unwillingly when Kyungsoo keeps prodding at him, insisting it’s time to get up and moving before someone decides to barge in and set the rumor mill aflame.

Grumpy and muttering under his breath, Jongin eventually plucks himself out of Kyungsoo's sheets and shuffles to the door. After dressing, Kyungsoo follows to see his mother fussing over Jongin as he whines because he walked into the corner. He can't help but be amused.

"You came back just in time," Kyungsoo's father announces once Jongin slides into an empty chair at the table. He's always been welcome in their home and has no shyness about filling in the space he left behind when he decided to go on his joy ride across the seas. It's nice.

"Did I?" he inquires, hissing when Kyungsoo's mother grabs him by the chin to apply ointment over the bruising around his eye.

“We’re celebrating Kyungsoo’s birthday tomorrow evening.”

It's a grand affair, much more grand than Kyungsoo had been anticipating and he feels out of place. All these people are the same as the ones who used to sneer in his face and call him a gutter rat when he was a child. And now they seek to placate him with platitudes and expensive gifts just to turn around and badmouth him behind his back instead. At least when he was poor they said them to his face.

This web of pretenses is giving him a headache and if he had a choice in all this, he'd send them all out and settle in for a small, private celebration with his family and Jongin and no one else. Instead, the pomp and circumstance of his new high position has him plastering on faux smiles and letting well practiced greetings and compliments spill off his tongue.

At least Jongin is at his side, leading him around by the elbow and muttering in Kyungsoo’s ear about the next round of guests preparing to approach him. It gives Kyungsoo a chance to catch his bearings and lock his knees when one of the larger lords descends for a hug that would have otherwise knocked him to the floor. Jongin doesn’t hide his laughter well, but it dies out when he’s the next victim. Kyungsoo is mildly vindicated.

Kyungsoo feels ill at the hospitality his parents are showing, to the way they’re smiling and laughing with guests who would rather they sully some other town with their new money as if being born with more gold than most men makes them somehow superior. Still, Kyungsoo plays along, allows himself to accept their gifts of wines and liquors, lavish robes and enough pieces of jewelry to fill a small chest.

Kyungsoo is stealing bites of Jongin’s pastry later in the evening when he nudges his friend. “And what about you? What did you get me for my birthday?”

Jongin holds his hand over his heart in mock hurt, leaning away from Kyungsoo. “Isn’t me returning enough of a gift?”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and leaves it be because Jongin at his side is the best present he could have asked for.

The villa now in Kyungsoo's name is too large - a gift from his parents that has him reeling back to take it all in. He feels dwarfed, too small a man to fill such space. The trellises that tower over the stone pathway to the front door are covered with white flowers in bloom, woven through dark wood slats. Kyungsoo runs his fingers over the soft petals along the way, more fascinated than Jongin who is used to such luxury.

The path leads to two tall wooden doors that open into a large foyer. High vaulted ceilings dwarf Kyungsoo further and he's still marveling at the marble flooring when Jongin grabs his arm and pulls him into the sitting room. It's grand, clearly intended for entertaining many guests at once and Kyungsoo's throat closes at the prospect.

It's surprising how suffocating a large space can be.

Gauzy white drapes frame the windows, probably doing little to keep the sun out, but they're beautiful all the same. The furniture is sparse, all of it coming with the house and Kyungsoo will have to fill it with his own along the way.

There are five bedrooms total, each one more grand than the next with Kyungsoo's master bedroom being the largest of all. The walls are painted a calming blue that reminds him of the sea with white edging like the cresting of a wave. There's an opulent tub built into the floor with golden filigree flowers around the edges and it's easily large enough to fit four people, possibly more. There is a fireplace on each end of the room, one by the tub and one nearer to where he will be sleeping.

"How did you possibly afford this place?" Kyungsoo asks as he sits on the edge of a four-poster bed. The duvet is soft and giving under his weight, a nice shade of light purple that covers white sheets and a mountain of pillows.

"The previous owner was a gambler," his father replies with a smug grin. "I got it for the paltry sum needed to pay off his debts."

"But how am I supposed to maintain all this?"

"There is a skeleton staff I've kept on to keep it in running order, but you'll need to hire more, of course. A list of their names and pay are on the desk in your study."

“Don’t worry,” Jongin declares as he launches himself onto the bed, bouncing on the mattress as Kyungsoo pierces him with a glare. “I’ll help you.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Jongin. Thank you.”

Kyungsoo’s father leaves the room and Kyungsoo spins on Jongin with a frown. “Yes, Jongin. That’s very thoughtful.”

Jongin smashes a pillow in Kyungsoo’s face with a sharp laugh.

Kyungsoo has to confess that the study is his favorite room in the house. With its olive green walls and furniture made from what appears to be oak, it gives him a serene, calming feeling. He sits behind his wide desk, chin in his hands and face oriented at the window to peer out through the curtains.

He’s been given a week or so to adjust to his new home, to handle hiring new staff and deciding how he’s going to manage it all. And he doesn’t even know where to start. Jongin left right after his parents, promising to be back soon, but Kyungsoo’s seen neither hide nor hair from him in nearly a day and a half.

That’s why he’s surprised when one of the workers knocks on his door to inform him that Jongin has returned and is waiting for him in the sitting room. He sighs, closing the ledger in front of him and wrapping the belt around his robes because he’d tugged it loose earlier to keep from suffocating. The clothing was a gift - cream with gold embroidery around the edges - and as beautiful as it is, Kyungsoo feels out of place wearing something so bold.

“I thought you were abandoning me,” Kyungsoo states as soon as he catches sight of Jongin.

Jongin rushes toward him, grabbing Kyungsoo by the wrist to pull him all the way into the room with a wide smile that can only ever mean trouble. “Kyungsoo, I would like to introduce you to Luhan.”

Trouble.

The first thing Kyungsoo notices is the slim silver band around Luhan’s pale neck, a chain connected to the center and hanging down to clip on his equally eye catching bracelet. The second thing that comes to his attention is that he’s seen this man before. He was the one at the docks, the one being loaded into a carriage to be taken to the city and sold as a pleasure slave.

Suddenly, Kyungsoo can’t breathe.

“I’ve purchased you a companion,” Jongin says in delight, palm slapping down on Kyungsoo’s back hard enough to send him forward another pace. “I wanted to have him for you at your party, but it wasn’t easy tracking down the merchant.”

“You bought him for me?”

Kyungsoo rests his eyes on Luhan again, taking in his delicate features and the neutral expression on his face. He’s clothed simply, a white tunic meant to display more than cover and protect from the elements. Blond hair falls long enough to nearly cover his eyes, but Kyungsoo still sees the way they stare at him without a hint of emotion before dropping to the floor obediently.

“You’re going to be the talk of the town, I imagine,” Jongin trills, still smiling broadly. “I doubt anyone here has a pleasure slave of their own yet.”

“He’s not a piece of jewelry,” Kyungsoo hisses, eyes cutting at his friend who doesn’t seem to be upset about this at all. Jongin, if anything, looks more delighted, laughing at Kyungsoo and resting an arm around his shoulders.

“The least you can do is smile and act as if you enjoy my gift, dear friend.” Jongin spins on his heel and heads further inside the house. “If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen!”

“Wait -” Kyungsoo calls, but it’s too late. Jongin is already darting off to the other end of the house where the kitchen is nestled out of the way.

Kyungsoo looks at his gift and swallows over the thickness threatening to invade his throat. Luhan is taller than he is and he holds himself in such a way that shows he’s subservient and humble, still refusing to lift his eyes from the floor.

“My name is Kyungsoo,” he offers awkwardly simply to cut the thick tension settled around them. Luhan gives a soft nod followed by a swipe of his tongue over his lips. Kyungsoo clears his throat, unsure as to what he’s supposed to do. After another moment, he figures he’ll do what he does with every new servant in his household - find him a room for him to stay in.

The servants who work for him all have small residences situated at the far back of the property, small houses that can fit a family or several people. But Luhan is not a cook or a maid, a stable master or gardener. Luhan is a pleasure slave and he is meant to be treated in high regard. Even Kyungsoo knows that.

“Follow me,” he instructs before turning on his heel to walk into his home. “You are welcome to spend your time inside and on the grounds as you please,” he begins, pulling a little at the fabric around his neck as if it is choking him. “I shall send someone to give you a more proper tour later, but I am sure you are tired and would like your rest for the moment.”

“I would like that very much, thank you,” Luhan answers, the softness of his voice startling Kyungsoo and he turns back to see Luhan following two steps behind him, head still aimed down.

In a fit of compassion - or perhaps lust as he spies the way Luhan’s skin pulls over his bones when he breathes, the fluttering of his eyelashes and smoothness of his gait - Kyungsoo leads Luhan to the bedroom next to his own. It’s the second largest and there is a door connecting the two rooms so that if Luhan needs anything, he may come to Kyungsoo first.

At least that’s what Kyungsoo repeats in his mind to justify himself.

Kyungsoo is quick to leave Luhan is his new room, instructing one of the servants to bring him something to eat later. He escapes to his study, closing the door and leaning against it as his heart pounds in his chest.

What is he supposed to do now?

“So how was it?” Jongin asks, feet propped on Kyungsoo’s desk. Kyungsoo reaches across and knocks them off with a frown.

“How was what?”

Jongin leans forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Luhan,” he says far too happily. “I paid a fine price for him, so I hope you’re at least getting my gold’s worth out of him.”

Kyungsoo flushes, cheeks heating traitorously. Jongin speaks of another human with such nonchalance, as if he means so little - his only value that of which Kyungsoo gets from using him for his own pleasure. It doesn’t sit well in his stomach at all. “You make him sound like a toy.”

Jongin shrugs, sitting back in his chair and propping his feet on Kyungsoo’s desk again. “Well, I suppose you could view him that way. I mean, he’s here for your pleasure.”

“How can you possibly think so little of another human? It could have easily been me in his position, taken from my parents and trained to do nothing but serve the pleasures of others. Tell me, Jongin, would you have bought me? Taken your fill of me and cast me aside when I grew too old or you got bored?”

Jongin stares at him, clearly choosing his words carefully before speaking. “I’ve seen where his ilk come from,” he begins in a calm voice. “If they aren’t taken in by slavers, they die on the streets from malnutrition and disease.”

“It doesn’t make them any less of a person.”

“I never said it did.” Jongin runs a tired hand through his hair. “Everyone has their role in life, a slot to fill. Some of us luck out and some of us don’t. If you don’t like it, then I’ll take Luhan off your hands and you can put it out of your pretty little head.”

Kyungsoo is speechless, regarding his friend with a new clarity. It must have been a lot rougher out there on him than he lets on. The Jongin he knew before he hopped on a ship to chase his dreams knew nothing of the plights of others. He viewed the world as his playground and the people around him as entertainment. Jongin would have been just as content as Kyungsoo’s friend if Kyungsoo and his family were to have stayed in poverty.

It gives Kyungsoo a lot to think about even after Jongin takes his leave.

Luhan seems to take a liking to the gardens. Kyungsoo can look out his window and see him standing amongst the flowers, a serene smile on his handsome face as the wind blows through his unstyled hair. He seems at peace, happy with where he is and Kyungsoo is content to let it settle this way even if Jongin’s burning stare is too knowing for his liking.

It’s almost as if Jongin knows the longing stirring in Kyungsoo when he watches the man gliding over the ground as if he were walking on air. Every move, every look, every moment has Kyungsoo’s resolve crumbling just a little more and he’s afraid for the day it snaps.

Kyungsoo takes his meals in his study when he is at home and spends his days down at the docks procuring goods to sell at market. He’s always tired when he returns, feet aching and head pounding and there’s never a night that he doesn’t stop in front of Luhan’s closed door, wondering what would happen if he just walked in.

It isn’t as if they don’t speak, but their conversations are terribly polite and short. Luhan likes to draw near when he talks, grazing fingers over Kyungsoo’s arm to gain his attention and smile when Kyungsoo gasps at the contact. The word master spills from Luhan’s lips and it never fails to send a shiver down Kyungsoo’s spine, toes curling in the expensive rug. He wants to tell Luhan not to call him master because it feels wrong, but the more primal part of him keeps his mouth shut.

And when he closes fingers around his cock at night, legs spread wide in the tub full of warm water, he imagines Luhan calling him Master before wrapping those perfect lips around his dick.

Kyungsoo looks down at the invitation in his hand, a finger sliding over the top of the heavy paper repeatedly as he reads it again. It’s not something he can decline, although he’d been sorely tempted after noting the name scrawled in bright green ink. To turn down the chance to go to a party hosted by the Lordling Baekhyun would be social suicide and he doesn’t want to disappoint his family after all the hard work they’ve put into getting him where he is.

With a sigh, his hand falls to his side and Kyungsoo stares out the window where Luhan is out in the garden, Jongin at his side as they converse. Kyungsoo knows Jongin means nothing by it, but to see Luhan laughing so freely has a twisting coil of jealousy simmering in his chest. More often than not, Jongin’s time at Kyungsoo’s villa is spent with Luhan and it’s no one’s fault but Kyungsoo’s own. He’s been throwing himself into his work with too much gusto, afraid to deal with the indecision still churning inside him.

It’s obvious now that he wants Luhan. The problem lies in acting on it. Slave or not, Kyungsoo isn’t going to force himself on anyone.

Kyungsoo begins bringing home trinkets and pieces of jewelry he thinks Luhan will enjoy. It brightens his day to see the way Luhan’s face shines when he slides on a new ring or runs his fingers over brilliantly colored fabrics. Seamstresses buzz in and out of Luhan’s room, fitting him with robes that are to his liking. He enjoys showing them off to Kyungsoo when they’re finished, spinning in circles with a smile on his face.

On more than one occasion, Luhan ends up too close, his breath hot on Kyungsoo’s face before he darts back. It takes all Kyungsoo’s restraint not to give in to temptation, to show Luhan he appreciates him more than just what his station dictates. And Kyungsoo finds himself slowly opening up.

Luhan looks exquisite, a work of art meant to be appreciated but never sullied by human hands. His eyes are rimmed in gold to match the bracelets that adorn his wrists and the cuff that sits high on his left arm. Robes of dark teal caress over his frame, open in the middle to expose a teasing swath of his chest.

Kyungsoo had toyed with taking Luhan to the market himself to pick out fabric for his robes, but decided he didn’t want to go anywhere that may sully him. It’s funny, really, how he doesn’t deem himself better than the peddlers on the street, but holds Luhan on a pedestal above them. Perhaps it’s because of the fuzziness in his mind when Luhan steals glances at him or the small moments when Luhan’s personality floats to the surface when he gets frustrated with something. (Kyungsoo will never forget the day Luhan spent in the kitchens taste-testing every pastry and cake he coerced the cook into baking - after Kyungsoo’s permission, of course.)

Anyone would be lucky to have such a magnificent creature on their arm and Kyungsoo feels fortunate that he's the one so blessed. The party is already in full swing by the time they arrive and Kyungsoo is mostly hoping to go unnoticed. Luhan's fingers are light on his arm where they touch and Kyungsoo slowly guides Luhan's hand around his elbow, leading him forward.

Kyungsoo doesn't recognize anyone, but the pair receive plenty of stares, most of them directed at Luhan until sliding to Kyungsoo in curiosity. Possessiveness bubbles in Kyungsoo’s stomach and he pulls Luhan closer to his side. A glance at Luhan and Kyungsoo can’t help but notice the pleased look on his face. And that pleases Kyungsoo too.

It’s the thin golden collar around Luhan’s neck that gives away what he is. Kyungsoo had told him he didn’t have to wear it, but he insisted. Coupled with Luhan’s disarming attractiveness, Kyungsoo should have known better than to have hoped for minimal attention. Luhan drinks it all in with curiosity and hesitance. More often than not, when someone stares too long, Kyungsoo and Luhan move closer together. At one point, Luhan tugs on Kyungsoo’s hand and he lets their fingers link, squeezing in comfort and giving Luhan in indulgent smile.

“Would you like a drink?” he offers and Luhan is quick to nod. It’s going to be a long evening.

The night air is warm and sticky, clinging to Kyungsoo’s heated skin as he guides Luhan up the pathway and into their home. Neither of them are drunk on anything other than the company of each other and the pleasantness of the evening. A few goblets of wine aren’t enough to impair Kyungsoo and Luhan had even less than he did.

It doesn’t stop Kyungsoo from balking at Luhan’s bedroom door, opening it for the man before taking a step back to allow him inside.

“You won’t join me?” Luhan inquires, head tilted to the side. His makeup is fading, some of it wiped away completely, yet he still appears so ethereal, nearly too beautiful to be real. Kyungsoo wants to touch, to smear the gold and ruin Luhan until he’s begging for more. It clogs his throat, forcing him to answer Luhan with a shake of his head.

“Not tonight.”

Luhan frowns, reaching out to lay his hand on Kyungsoo’s arm so he can’t leave yet. “You will come to me one day, won’t you Master?”

Master.

Kyungsoo can practically taste the sweetness of Luhan on his tongue and doesn’t trust himself to answer. The silence is thick and Luhan’s fingers grip tighter on his arm.

“If you don’t want me, then are you going to sell me?”

“No,” Kyungsoo replies quickly, shaking his head and resting a hand on top of Luhan’s. “No, I only want your happiness. Tell me what you wish and I will do what I can to make it happen.”

Luhan licks his lips, Kyungsoo’s eyes following the action and he wants to push his own against them so badly. “I want you, Master.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head, opening his mouth to speak, but Luhan takes a step forward and begins speaking in a whisper. “I see how you look at me. I hear you at night through the wall when you pleasure yourself.” Kyungsoo flushes red out of embarrassment. “And I get so jealous because I want to be the one who makes you moan, who makes you cry out when you finish.”

Kyungsoo can’t think, his heart racing and the blood rushing through his veins too quickly.

“Please let me have you.”

It’s not a request Kyungsoo can deny any longer. A simple nod of his head is all it takes for Luhan to pull him into the room, the door shutting behind them. They don’t stop until they’re at the foot of the bed, Luhan looking far more bold, eager even, than Kyungsoo has ever seen him.

There’s a hesitance in the way Kyungsoo touches Luhan, in the soft glide of his fingertips across exposed skin as he pushes the robes off Luhan’s shoulders. They pool at his feet and Luhan stands bare, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded as he watches Kyungsoo, waits for his next move. With a hand on the back of Luhan’s neck, Kyungsoo pulls him down for a tentative kiss.

Luhan’s mouth is soft against his, lips plush and warm and wet. Kyungsoo already knows it’s going to be an addiction. He shivers when he feels fingers working at his robes, effortlessly moving them aside and to the floor. Kyungsoo tries to focus on the slide of Luhan’s tongue when it catches on his own, the way his body is radiating heat and how much he wants to push against him. But there’s still this niggling doubt that has him grabbing Luhan’s arms and forcing him back.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes as his heart pounds quick beneath his ribs. “I can’t -”

Luhan looks afraid, eyes wide and fixated on Kyungsoo’s face. “Am I not desirable?”

“You are,” Kyungsoo assures him. He releases Luhan just long enough to cup his face. “I want you. I do.”

Luhan pushes forward for a kiss and Kyungsoo just barely stops him before he gets there. He briefly wonders if such an act is something a pleasure slave is allowed to make until disgust at himself for even thinking of it takes hold. Luhan is following orders, doing what he’s been told to do. He was raised to seduce whomever owns him and right now, that’s Kyungsoo.

“Let me help,” Luhan whispers.

Kyungsoo watches as Luhan walks around the bed to fill a small glass with water from the pitcher kept on the nightstand. And then he picks up a vial and shakes it a little. “I got this from Master Jongin,” Luhan explains as he uncaps the container. When he tilts it, three red droplets fall into the water, mixing and tinting the liquid pink. “It will loosen you up, allow you to stop thinking so much.”

“Master Jongin,” Kyungsoo repeats, eyeing the cup with trepidation when Luhan returns and holds it out for him to take.

“He worries about you.”

“You speak to him often about me?”

Luhan draws in on himself as if he’s afraid he’s about to be punished. “I only meant that he inquires.”

Kyungsoo reaches out for Luhan, instantly sorry because he may have let a little jealousy slip through in his words. He’s not upset. And when Luhan relaxes, Kyungsoo takes the cup from him and swirls the concoction around. No doubt if it’s from Jongin then it’s probably nothing that will hurt him, so Kyungsoo figures it’s worth a shot.

As soon as Kyungsoo swallows, Luhan is plucking the glass from his hand and licking across his lips to catch the remnants with a low moan. It’s a brazen move, but Kyungsoo doesn’t balk. He captures Luhan’s mouth with his, letting the touch and smell and warmth of Luhan console his reservations.

The caress of Luhan’s thumb along the swell of his lower lip has Kyungsoo pulling away with a gasp. “May I taste you, Master?”

Kyungsoo whispers out a needy, “yes,” before witnessing Luhan dropping to his knees. Luhan doesn’t seem bothered that Kyungsoo’s cock isn’t hard, tongue coming out to swipe over the tip before sucking it into his mouth. It’s right about now that Kyungsoo feels a heat in his veins that hits hard. His cock swells quickly inside Luhan’s mouth and he rocks into it, unable to help himself.

He’s never been this turned on before and it isn’t long before he’s aching for more. As wonderfully delicious as Luhan’s mouth feels around him, it’s not enough.

Kyungsoo pets through Luhan’s hair before fisting his hand in it to pull him up. Luhan seems startled, but falls back easily when Kyungsoo pushes him onto the bed. He crawls over Luhan, hands trailing softly over his pale thighs and chest before he leans down to kiss him. Luhan tastes bitter and salty and Kyungsoo feels Luhan’s cock hard against his own.

The only light in the room is cast from the flames dancing in the fireplace - left lit for when they returned home. The deep orange looks beautiful licking over Luhan’s skin and Kyungsoo feels the burn inside himself. It must be from Jongin’s gift. And it’s driving him a little crazy.

He can’t focus on anything other than the need to be touched, to be filled and fucked until there’s nothing left of his sanity. And he wants Luhan to do it. “Oil,” he whispers, lips brushing over Luhan’s. He doesn’t want to have to stop touching Luhan, hoping he won’t have to rush into his room to grab any.

Luhan turns his head toward the side table. “In the drawer.”

Kyungsoo is able to reach it without fully pulling away from Luhan, the jar small but still full. Luhan hasn’t used any at all and that knowledge coils in his gut. “Put your hands over your head,” Kyungsoo instructs as he sits up, straddling Luhan’s waist. He can feel Luhan’s cock behind him, snug between his cheeks and he rocks down just to see the way Luhan’s mouth falls open.

Luhan does as he’s told and Kyungsoo leans down long enough to reward him with a kiss. “Now stay like that. No touching.” Luhan whimpers, but nods, fingers balling in the pillow to hold fast.

The oil is slick on Kyungsoo’s fingers and he smears it up and down with his thumb before placing the jar to the side. If he were alone, he’d take his time, draw out the pleasure with gentle teasing, but right now he can’t wait. He physically aches for it, his hole clenching around nothing until he pushes a finger through.

Kyungsoo hisses, steadying himself with a hand on Luhan’s chest as he pushes it in and out slowly, making sure to spread the oil as much as he can. Impatience has him working a second finger in alongside the first and it stings, but not enough to take away from how amazing it feels. His head falls back, eyes closed and breathing heavy as he rolls his hips.

Arousal is clawing through him, so infinitely consuming that Kyungsoo can’t stop, urgently pushing his fingers inside himself, curling them just so until the pleasure shudders down his spine.

Kyungsoo watches Luhan intently when he slicks up his cock, making sure to pump him with just enough pressure to coat him in oil before pulling away. “You’re doing so good for me,” Kyungsoo praises as he shifts back and keeps Luhan’s cock upright by the base. The tip pushes against his rim and Kyungsoo breathes out in one long exhale as he sits all the way down. “So very good,” he moans.

It’s obvious that Luhan is trying hard to keep his hands away and when Kyungsoo looks into his eyes, he barely sees any hint of that brown he loves so much. As much as he’d like to take the credit for Luhan being so hard, so nearly out of control, it’s because of the stray drops of the aphrodisiac he’d licked from Kyungsoo’s lips.

Luhan is panting, chest heaving with each breath as Kyungsoo begins to lift and descend, sheathing Luhan’s cock inside him again and again. Every time it feels better, the ache retreating just for a moment and Kyungsoo chases it greedily. Luhan’s hips thrust up and Kyungsoo’s moan is loud. The extra force nearly doubles the pleasure and Kyungsoo can’t get enough.

“I want you to mark me,” Kyungsoo demands with a moan. “Touch me, bruise me, fuck me please.”

The staggered trail of Luhan’s nails down Kyungsoo’s thighs stings and he jerks away from it while enjoying the pain. He’s still trying to catch up, his entire body aching to be used when Luhan flips them over. The duvet is silky against his skin, but it still catches on his sweat as Luhan thrusts into him without restraint.

He’s so thick and hot inside Kyungsoo, his cock throbbing and perfect as he fills him over and over, faster and harder and so so good, Luhan don’t stop. His body is practically buzzing, the tips of his fingers and nose tingling as his toes curl in the blanket. Luhan is moving over him, skin shining with sweat and muscles flexing with each thrust forward. Kyungsoo can’t help himself; he reaches up and smears the rest of Luhan’s makeup with his thumbs until it runs in lines down his cheeks.

And he still looks radiant.

Kyungsoo kisses him hard, knowing that no matter what, Luhan is his. Luhan catches his lip in his teeth, biting just hard enough for the pain to filter to the top before sinking again.

He’s wound so tight, head spinning and throat burning and all he wants is to come. With one arm now around Luhan’s shoulders, Kyungsoo reaches between their bodies to fist his cock. The touch sends a tremor through him, back arching and breath caught in his lungs. His strokes are short and jerky, unable to form a rhythm because of the distracting way Luhan keeps fucking into him.

Everything culminates when Kyungsoo comes, thighs trembling and locked against the sides of Luhan’s hips. Every pump of his cock relieves the heat in his veins until there’s nothing left. Luhan pulls out, thick white ropes falling on Kyungsoo’s stomach until he’s spent. Kyungsoo runs fingers through Luhan’s damp hair, smiling up at him before pulling him down for a kiss.

“Thank you.”

Kyungsoo uses the duvet to clean them up and then burrows in Luhan’s sheets. There’s probably some rule about sleeping in a pleasure slave’s room, letting him curl into his arms for the rest of the night, but Kyungsoo doesn’t care. He’s never been one for rules anyway.

With morning comes a very satisfied looking Jongin standing at the end of the bed, pinching one of Kyungsoo’s toes to wake him up.

“I’d ask how your night was, but it seems a moot inquiry.”

“Do you have to disturb the peace?” Kyungsoo grumbles, twitching out of Jongin’ touch.

“Does this mean I can eat your breakfast? It smells divine.”

Kyungsoo gives his best friend a glare while pulling Luhan to his chest as he begins to stir. “As long as you do it quietly.”

Jongin barks out a laugh before leaving and Kyungsoo looks down to see Luhan peering up at him with a healthy blush across his cheeks. “Morning,” Kyungsoo mumbles before kissing him gently.

“Good morning, Master.”