The King's Man
Title: The King's Man
Pairing: Chanhee/Byunghun
Rating: PG
Genre: AU
Notes: I still blame Serena.
Disclaimer: They belong to Andy, not me.
There was dirt on his face.
It was the first thing Chanhee noticed when the man was brought before him. It was early in the morning, and he'd been roused from sleep by his guards and informed that during the night, there had been an intruder. Drowsily he'd told them to hold the man until he was dressed, and had gone back to sleep.
They'd abused the boy between then and now, and it was obvious. A bruise was blossoming across his cheek, the streaks of dirt not doing much to hide the way the purple hue was staining the otherwise beautiful skin. His bottom lip was swollen, and his dirty clothes were torn in spots. The scrapes on his hands and arms were still bleeding, which meant the escorting guards had probably knocked him down more than once.
Chanhee wrinkled his nose in distaste.
"What is your name?" he asked flatly as the young man stared down at the floor. The expression on his face didn't change, a strange mixture of emptiness and defiance, and his lips remained pressed together tightly. Chanhee sat up a little straighter. "I asked you a question. I am your king, and you will answer me. Who are you?"
When the prisoner did not immediately speak, one of the guards grabbed him by the back of his neck and forced him to his knees.
"Those are two very different questions, your highness," the boy whispered, a violent shudder running up his body as the guard's hand squeezed tight on his neck. "Do you wish for my name, or for who I am?"
Chanhee stared at the boy for a moment, trying to hide his amusement. He waved his hand, and the guard released his grip on the kid's neck.
"Just tell me your name, boy."
The child lifted his head and looked at his king, prompting many of the people in the room to gasp. Impetuous, they'd say. Inappropriate, ill-mannered boy. Chanhee himself did not say a word.
"Byunghun, my lord."
Byunghun... it fit him. Chanhee nodded slowly and raised his hand; the guards grabbed the boy by his shirt in anticipation, but the young king merely beckoned for them to bring him closer. The men dragged Byunghun nearer, despite his unwillingness to move, and pushed him to his hands and knees.
"I am told you were caught stealing, Byunghun."
"Yes." Chanhee leaned forward and slid a single finger under the boy's chin, lifting his lowered head so he could examine the bruised face more closely.
He was pretty, ridiculously so, and very young. Not even the bruising and abrasions and dirt could hide that. Chanhee turned the boy's head from side to side, a small smirk evident on his face.
"The palace belongs to me, and to the people of Joseon. Tell me, boy... why should I not punish you severely for not only stealing from your king but also from your country?"
Byunghun closed his eyes, breath catching in his throat, and Chanhee watched muscles in his jaw and neck tense. He was trying to hide his fear. Nobody but Chanhee could see it, and he found it extremely interesting. Any other citizen would be in tears by now, too scared to even attempt to hide it.
"Answer."
Byunghun drew a shaky breath and opened his eyes. "If the palace belongs also to the people of Joseon, what crime have I committed? Is it a crime to take from that which belongs to all if it is necessary to survive?"
"Mouthy little wretch!" one of the king's advisor's interjected, and Chanhee jerked his head up to set the man with a glare. The older man immediately realised his mistake; however, that didn't stop his mouth. "Your highness, he's obviously just an ill-mannered thief. He's not deserving of your attention. If you'll just allow us to-"
"Minister." The man went silent. "I think it is well worth my attention to know why citizens of my country are reduced to attempting to rob their king to survive. Thief he may be, and punishment he may deserve, but to discover what drove him to such a desperate act is necessary."
His gaze returned to the battered boy, and he ran his thumb along Byunghun's lip. Dried blood came away on his skin.
"You have committed a crime, whether you believe so or not. And you will be punished for that. You have attempted to take what is mine, and what is Joseon's." Chanhee leaned closer to the boy, gripping Byunghun's chin when the boy tried to recoil. "For that, I will take what is yours."
There were uncomfortable murmurs amongst the others in the chamber. Byunghun looked up at the king, face draining of colour.
"You belong to me now."
~ ~ ~
At the king's order, the guards lifted Byunghun to his feet to take him away. His knees buckled under his own slight weight, and the men took his arms to carry him out, albeit in a much gentler fashion than they had previously. He expected to be dragged back to the cells, tossed in the dirt again to await his imminent death. Surely that was what the king had meant.
However, he found himself being taken to another building inside the palace walls. The lavish room was unlike anything Byunghun had ever seen in his life; the guards shoved him through the doors and closed them behind him, leaving the shaking young man alone and confused.
He was afraid to even sit on the floor for fear of getting it dirty and being punished for it.
His body was threatening collapse from exhaustion when the door finally opened again. It was another man, much taller than Byunghun, his face full of soft features that betrayed his youth; he stepped into the room and closed the door before turning to look at him.
"Oh my." His eyes widened, and he reached to touch Byunghun's cheek gingerly. Byunghun flinched away from the touch. "What happened to you, poor thing?"
Byunghun stared at the boy, his expression wary. "The guards..." He touched his own face with a shaking hand, wincing at the sensitivity of his own skin. "Ah..."
The boy took his hand to stop him, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Quietly, he pulled Byunghun further into the room, and motioned for him to sit down on the soft embroidered mat on the floor. Byunghun hesitated.
"Sit," the boy commanded, picking through the drawers of the shelves on the wall. "I'm supposed to clean you up and it won't do to have you fainting and bruising yourself up even more. The king won't like it."
The shaking boy slowly sank onto the mat.
"My name is Jonghyun," the tall child continued, dropping brushes and clothing onto the floor. The door opened, and Byunghun very nearly leapt up again as the guards stepped in. A look from Jonghyun kept him where he was, however, and the guards merely carried in a wooden tub before leaving. "You're called Byunghun, yes? You're lucky you're still alive after the stunts you've pulled today..."
The guards came back several times with water to fill the tub. Every time they returned, Byunghun jumped and Jonghyun glared. When the tub was finally full, and the guards gone, he gave Byunghun an exasperated look.
"Well? Are you deliberately slow, or do you just like cold water? Get in the tub."
Byunghun obediently stripped off his clothes and lowered his aching body into the water. His annoyed attendant tutted and shook his head at the bruises that marred the bare skin, not even doing him the courtesy of turning away. He settled next to the tub as Byunghun wrapped his arms around his knees, body shrinking in the water.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked softly as Jonghyun wet a cloth and gently started wiping the grime and blood from his skin. Jonghyun just smiled as Byunghun's eyelids drooped dangerously.
"I do many things for my king." He leaned close and whispered against the boy's ear. "Sleep. I promise nothing bad will happen. I'll take good care of you."
Try as he might, Byunghun couldn't fight the exhaustion that had taken hold of him. Lack of sleep, and the pain he'd suffered, and the fear, had drained him of all energy, and soon he drifted off in the tub. Jonghyun patted his head, as if the boy were some sort of pet, and went back to carefully washing him down.
It was much easier without his resistance.
When Byunghun was finally clean, his body scrubbed of all impurities and deemed acceptable, Jonghyun carefully lifted him from the tub and set him down on a thin mat. Gently he dried him, bandaged him where necessary, and dressed him in clothing matching his own. The dirty rags he'd been in before were disposed of, and Jonghyun sat on the floor next to him, waiting to see if he'd wake any time soon.
It didn't seem as if he would. A servant came after a few hours, sent on the king's behalf to see if Byunghun was well, and Jonghyun merely shrugged and sent the middle-aged man back. He would be fine, he told him. He only needed rest.
It was early evening by the time he finally stirred. Servants had brought food for them, which was the only thing Byunghun's body needed more than rest. He sat up, groaning at the soreness of his body, and looked around in confusion.
"Come eat," Jonghyun murmured, motioning for him to come over to the table. Byunghun crawled to the table and sat across from the boy, licking his lips at the sight of all the food. "Don't just stare at it, eat. Your ribs stick out too much."
Byunghun immediately started stuffing food into his mouth in the most ungraceful manner ever. Jonghyun looked at him in disapproval but said nothing; after all, he was sure it had been a long time since the rail-thin boy had had enough food to fill his belly.
The pair were silent as they ate. Byunghun avoided Jonghyun's eyes, and Jonghyun quietly moved food across the table into the young man's reach to make his eating easier.
Finally, Byunghun allowed his gaze to meet Jonghyun's, and he set his chopsticks down.
"Why am I here?" he asked bluntly. Jonghyun blinked at him in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"Why am I here, and not... you know... being executed?" He swallowed hard and curled his fingers into fists in his lap. "Not that I'm ungrateful for it, but..."
Jonghyun rubbed the back of his head and looked away.
"You're here because you belong to the king now..." he glanced back at Byunghun, waiting to see if he understood. When it was obvious he didn't, Jonghyun sighed and leaned across the table. "You're his now, like me. You're a wonchung."
"... a... a what?!"
Jonghyun nodded serenely. "You're officially one of King Chanhee's male lovers."
Pairing: Chanhee/Byunghun
Rating: PG
Genre: AU
Notes: I still blame Serena.
Disclaimer: They belong to Andy, not me.
There was dirt on his face.
It was the first thing Chanhee noticed when the man was brought before him. It was early in the morning, and he'd been roused from sleep by his guards and informed that during the night, there had been an intruder. Drowsily he'd told them to hold the man until he was dressed, and had gone back to sleep.
They'd abused the boy between then and now, and it was obvious. A bruise was blossoming across his cheek, the streaks of dirt not doing much to hide the way the purple hue was staining the otherwise beautiful skin. His bottom lip was swollen, and his dirty clothes were torn in spots. The scrapes on his hands and arms were still bleeding, which meant the escorting guards had probably knocked him down more than once.
Chanhee wrinkled his nose in distaste.
"What is your name?" he asked flatly as the young man stared down at the floor. The expression on his face didn't change, a strange mixture of emptiness and defiance, and his lips remained pressed together tightly. Chanhee sat up a little straighter. "I asked you a question. I am your king, and you will answer me. Who are you?"
When the prisoner did not immediately speak, one of the guards grabbed him by the back of his neck and forced him to his knees.
"Those are two very different questions, your highness," the boy whispered, a violent shudder running up his body as the guard's hand squeezed tight on his neck. "Do you wish for my name, or for who I am?"
Chanhee stared at the boy for a moment, trying to hide his amusement. He waved his hand, and the guard released his grip on the kid's neck.
"Just tell me your name, boy."
The child lifted his head and looked at his king, prompting many of the people in the room to gasp. Impetuous, they'd say. Inappropriate, ill-mannered boy. Chanhee himself did not say a word.
"Byunghun, my lord."
Byunghun... it fit him. Chanhee nodded slowly and raised his hand; the guards grabbed the boy by his shirt in anticipation, but the young king merely beckoned for them to bring him closer. The men dragged Byunghun nearer, despite his unwillingness to move, and pushed him to his hands and knees.
"I am told you were caught stealing, Byunghun."
"Yes." Chanhee leaned forward and slid a single finger under the boy's chin, lifting his lowered head so he could examine the bruised face more closely.
He was pretty, ridiculously so, and very young. Not even the bruising and abrasions and dirt could hide that. Chanhee turned the boy's head from side to side, a small smirk evident on his face.
"The palace belongs to me, and to the people of Joseon. Tell me, boy... why should I not punish you severely for not only stealing from your king but also from your country?"
Byunghun closed his eyes, breath catching in his throat, and Chanhee watched muscles in his jaw and neck tense. He was trying to hide his fear. Nobody but Chanhee could see it, and he found it extremely interesting. Any other citizen would be in tears by now, too scared to even attempt to hide it.
"Answer."
Byunghun drew a shaky breath and opened his eyes. "If the palace belongs also to the people of Joseon, what crime have I committed? Is it a crime to take from that which belongs to all if it is necessary to survive?"
"Mouthy little wretch!" one of the king's advisor's interjected, and Chanhee jerked his head up to set the man with a glare. The older man immediately realised his mistake; however, that didn't stop his mouth. "Your highness, he's obviously just an ill-mannered thief. He's not deserving of your attention. If you'll just allow us to-"
"Minister." The man went silent. "I think it is well worth my attention to know why citizens of my country are reduced to attempting to rob their king to survive. Thief he may be, and punishment he may deserve, but to discover what drove him to such a desperate act is necessary."
His gaze returned to the battered boy, and he ran his thumb along Byunghun's lip. Dried blood came away on his skin.
"You have committed a crime, whether you believe so or not. And you will be punished for that. You have attempted to take what is mine, and what is Joseon's." Chanhee leaned closer to the boy, gripping Byunghun's chin when the boy tried to recoil. "For that, I will take what is yours."
There were uncomfortable murmurs amongst the others in the chamber. Byunghun looked up at the king, face draining of colour.
"You belong to me now."
~ ~ ~
At the king's order, the guards lifted Byunghun to his feet to take him away. His knees buckled under his own slight weight, and the men took his arms to carry him out, albeit in a much gentler fashion than they had previously. He expected to be dragged back to the cells, tossed in the dirt again to await his imminent death. Surely that was what the king had meant.
However, he found himself being taken to another building inside the palace walls. The lavish room was unlike anything Byunghun had ever seen in his life; the guards shoved him through the doors and closed them behind him, leaving the shaking young man alone and confused.
He was afraid to even sit on the floor for fear of getting it dirty and being punished for it.
His body was threatening collapse from exhaustion when the door finally opened again. It was another man, much taller than Byunghun, his face full of soft features that betrayed his youth; he stepped into the room and closed the door before turning to look at him.
"Oh my." His eyes widened, and he reached to touch Byunghun's cheek gingerly. Byunghun flinched away from the touch. "What happened to you, poor thing?"
Byunghun stared at the boy, his expression wary. "The guards..." He touched his own face with a shaking hand, wincing at the sensitivity of his own skin. "Ah..."
The boy took his hand to stop him, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Quietly, he pulled Byunghun further into the room, and motioned for him to sit down on the soft embroidered mat on the floor. Byunghun hesitated.
"Sit," the boy commanded, picking through the drawers of the shelves on the wall. "I'm supposed to clean you up and it won't do to have you fainting and bruising yourself up even more. The king won't like it."
The shaking boy slowly sank onto the mat.
"My name is Jonghyun," the tall child continued, dropping brushes and clothing onto the floor. The door opened, and Byunghun very nearly leapt up again as the guards stepped in. A look from Jonghyun kept him where he was, however, and the guards merely carried in a wooden tub before leaving. "You're called Byunghun, yes? You're lucky you're still alive after the stunts you've pulled today..."
The guards came back several times with water to fill the tub. Every time they returned, Byunghun jumped and Jonghyun glared. When the tub was finally full, and the guards gone, he gave Byunghun an exasperated look.
"Well? Are you deliberately slow, or do you just like cold water? Get in the tub."
Byunghun obediently stripped off his clothes and lowered his aching body into the water. His annoyed attendant tutted and shook his head at the bruises that marred the bare skin, not even doing him the courtesy of turning away. He settled next to the tub as Byunghun wrapped his arms around his knees, body shrinking in the water.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked softly as Jonghyun wet a cloth and gently started wiping the grime and blood from his skin. Jonghyun just smiled as Byunghun's eyelids drooped dangerously.
"I do many things for my king." He leaned close and whispered against the boy's ear. "Sleep. I promise nothing bad will happen. I'll take good care of you."
Try as he might, Byunghun couldn't fight the exhaustion that had taken hold of him. Lack of sleep, and the pain he'd suffered, and the fear, had drained him of all energy, and soon he drifted off in the tub. Jonghyun patted his head, as if the boy were some sort of pet, and went back to carefully washing him down.
It was much easier without his resistance.
When Byunghun was finally clean, his body scrubbed of all impurities and deemed acceptable, Jonghyun carefully lifted him from the tub and set him down on a thin mat. Gently he dried him, bandaged him where necessary, and dressed him in clothing matching his own. The dirty rags he'd been in before were disposed of, and Jonghyun sat on the floor next to him, waiting to see if he'd wake any time soon.
It didn't seem as if he would. A servant came after a few hours, sent on the king's behalf to see if Byunghun was well, and Jonghyun merely shrugged and sent the middle-aged man back. He would be fine, he told him. He only needed rest.
It was early evening by the time he finally stirred. Servants had brought food for them, which was the only thing Byunghun's body needed more than rest. He sat up, groaning at the soreness of his body, and looked around in confusion.
"Come eat," Jonghyun murmured, motioning for him to come over to the table. Byunghun crawled to the table and sat across from the boy, licking his lips at the sight of all the food. "Don't just stare at it, eat. Your ribs stick out too much."
Byunghun immediately started stuffing food into his mouth in the most ungraceful manner ever. Jonghyun looked at him in disapproval but said nothing; after all, he was sure it had been a long time since the rail-thin boy had had enough food to fill his belly.
The pair were silent as they ate. Byunghun avoided Jonghyun's eyes, and Jonghyun quietly moved food across the table into the young man's reach to make his eating easier.
Finally, Byunghun allowed his gaze to meet Jonghyun's, and he set his chopsticks down.
"Why am I here?" he asked bluntly. Jonghyun blinked at him in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"Why am I here, and not... you know... being executed?" He swallowed hard and curled his fingers into fists in his lap. "Not that I'm ungrateful for it, but..."
Jonghyun rubbed the back of his head and looked away.
"You're here because you belong to the king now..." he glanced back at Byunghun, waiting to see if he understood. When it was obvious he didn't, Jonghyun sighed and leaned across the table. "You're his now, like me. You're a wonchung."
"... a... a what?!"
Jonghyun nodded serenely. "You're officially one of King Chanhee's male lovers."