Fixation Ch7: In Which Everyone Is Uncomfortable (Particularly Henry)
Title: Fixation Ch7: In Which Everyone Is Uncomfortable (Particularly Henry)
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Super Junior, with SHINee & SNSD in supporting roles & other KPop artists in minor/cameo roles
Pairings: Main focus on Siwon/Heechul and Siwon/Heechul/Hangeng, with numerous side pairings.
Genre: Action, drama, some angst. OrganizedCrime!AU.
Summary: Three weeks later, the Dragons still have no way of finding their attackers. Then Hangeng practically drops into Heechul’s lap, and things spin wildly out of control.
Notes & Warnings: AU, violence, foul language, prostitution, explicit sex. For this chapter: brief depictions of borderline/attempted sexual assault
(Need a refresher? Previous parts in this series here.)
Sitting on the subway with his hood pulled up over his head, Kyuhyun sightlessly scrolled through his phone in an attempt to distract himself from the fuming anger. Because seriously, who the fuck did Leeteuk think he was? Where the hell did he get off kicking Kyuhyun out without warning?
He was going to regret it, that was for damn sure.
Kyuhyun clicked over to his message history on his simple, pay-by-the-minute, no-data, anonymous phone purchased with a false credit card under a false name. There weren’t any games or apps on his phone, so scrolling back through his message history was pretty much the only vaguely entertaining thing he could do with it.
He opened the text conversation from yesterday - the one that had distracted him right as the truck was being loaded.
From: Anonymous
Are you planning to leave the country?
To: Anonymous
No. They set me up with a fake ID, and I moved. I'm being careful.
From: Anonymous
You should just go.
To: Anonymous
Why should I? There’s no need to run. I have so much incriminating evidence against the Dragons, and I can use it to my advantage.
From: Anonymous
...Are you going to turn them in to the cops?
To: Anonymous
Not yet. That’s a last resort. It’s my protection. Trust me, when you’re dealing with an organization like the Dragons, you’d better have some kind of protection.
Why are you suddenly contacting me again? Have you considered my offer?
From: Anonymous
I’m still thinking about it.
To: Anonymous
Well, don’t hesitate too long. It’s not an unlimited offer, you know.
That was right about when the truck had pulled out of the alley, and Kyuhyun let the conversation drop in favor of contacting Leeteuk.
He’d learned one thing for sure during this exchange - his mysterious contact was not Donghae, Sungmin, or any of Donghae’s gang. Not that he’d really had any suspicion, but still it was nice to have it confirmed. There was no way anyone would be stupid enough to start up a text conversation while on a job, let alone with one of the Dragons’ enemies.
Actually, thinking about it, that gave him an idea.
He’d found out, through the course of this job, that Leeteuk had access to the Den’s camera feeds through a private server. And he knew it wasn’t a closed, local network either; the server had to be accessible from outside the house, because Leeteuk and Eunhyuk could access it on their smartphones.
If he could somehow hack into that server and get access to the cameras, from there it would just be a matter of watching the cameras while texting his anonymous savior. He just had to wait and see who checked their phone, and he’d have his answer.
With something that resembled a plan in mind, Kyuhyun was a lot calmer when his stop came and he exited the subway.
Following the directions to his gaming friend’s place took just a few minutes, and then he was knocking on an almost-stranger’s door.
Seungri - not his real name, but his gaming handle was ‘SeungriVVIP” and so he’d just always thought of him as Seungri - was a quiet, sharp-eyed young man who despite being several years younger than Kyuhyun was already living on his own. He referred to Kyuhyun as Gyu or Gamer, having never learned Kyuhyun’s real name, and he seemed totally at ease with this random stranger whom he’d only ever spoken to in text form crashing on his couch.
They ordered in takeout and chatted a little about nothing at all. Seungri did not ask Kyuhyun about his life, his family, his job, and that was why, as the conversation wore down, Kyuhyun felt at ease enough to bring up the project he wanted to start - hacking into a secured server remotely.
Seungri lit up at the prospect and started firing questions at him. Kyuhyun answered as best he could, hiding his glee.
Leeteuk wouldn’t know what hit him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Taemin didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous.
Up until now, working for the Den had pretty much consisted of rehearsals in the afternoons. The escorts and musicians were preparing a completely new show to coincide with Taemin’s debut as an escort, and Taemin had been getting some singing coaching from Jessica and pole-dancing lessons from Hyoyeon in preparation, on top of working with all of the escorts to choreograph the new numbers that Henry, Jonghyun and Seohyun were writing.
But tonight was when he was due to begin his actual escort training, which was a completely different and far more terrifying animal.
His nerves were not assuaged at all by the mood of the Den when he walked in that night, either. Seohyun in the kitchen and Jonghyun behind the bar were both uncharacteristically quiet, preparing for the bar’s opening in less than an hour with their heads down and their mouths shut. The escorts were locked away in their rooms, and none of the Dragons were anywhere to be found, leaving Sunny the only person on the main floor when Taemin and Henry walked in.
Trained as they both were by years of working at Kwon Garden downtown, Henry and Taemin immediately began helping Sunny set up for the night. Henry started pulling chairs down from the tabletops while Taemin grabbed a rag and bucket and started wiping things down.
“Why’s everything so quiet tonight, noona?” Taemin asked Sunny under his breath.
Sunny shot him a tight smile. “Something went down earlier,” she informed him. “Dragon-related. Most of us don’t know the details. But they’re all in a bad mood - Kangin, Heenim, Donghae, even Siwon.” She nodded up the stairs to Heechul’s closed door. “No one wants to make themselves a target.” She took in Taemin’s suddenly pale face and realized, “Oh jeeze, you’re supposed to be training with Heenim tonight, aren’t you?”
Taemin nodded helplessly.
“Good luck,” Sunny said with solemn sincerity.
They finished setting up the dining room in silence as the wait staff started to trickle in. The whispering started when Sunny began relaying the situation to her staff, and when Taemin started to feel eyes following him, he decided it would be better to just face the dragon, so to speak.
He was less sure when Heechul opened the door, dark circles under his eyes and a hard, wild look on his face.
“Get in here,” Heechul growled. Taemin jumped at the command and quickly ducked past him into the room. The door shut and then Heechul was on him, shoving him against the closed doors and slamming his lips roughly down onto Taemin’s.
Taemin’s first instinct was to fight back, to push him away. Heechul was having none of it, though, pinning his hands down to his sides and continuing his assault. Guessing that this was part of his training, Taemin tried very hard to relax.
“Lesson one,” Heechul snarled quietly against his mouth. “Customers are assholes.”
Okay. Point taken.
“If you’re gonna be one of my kids,” Heechul continued, his mouth having migrated around towards Taemin’s ear, “you need to understand something. You are a prostitute. That does not mean that you are not a person.”
Teeth sank into Taemin’s ear, making him jump and cry out.
“You are expected to do everything you can to fulfil a customer’s desires.” Heechul continued, punctuating each word with nips and licks. “But you must remember that there are things a human being with dignity cannot do. And you must learn now, before you get up on my stage or into one of my rooms, where the line is.”
He leaned down further and bit down on Taemin’s shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to hurt.
“This is that line,” Heechul continued, his voice a low snarl. “I am not causing you true injury. I am not bruising you or drawing blood. This is as far as you let a customer take things with you. No farther. Understand me?”
It took a moment too long for Taemin to respond, and Heechul wrapped a hand around his neck, just tight enough to be uncomfortable. “You understand me?”
He nodded quickly. Heechul let him go and pushed him forward. Not so hard that he fell to the ground, but hard enough that he stumbled.
Taemin was starting to get the picture, now.
“Get on the bed,” Heechul commanded, pointing through the door to the bedroom. Taemin hurried to comply. Following him, Heechul closed the inner door and locked it.
“Customers are assholes, and they will try and take more than you are willing to give.” He pushed Taemin down onto the bed. Taemin went, again resisting the urge to fight back. “The key to being a successful escort is to know where the line is and how to bring a customer back from crossing it without insulting them or ending the encounter.”
Eyes wide, Taemin nodded again. Was he supposed to be participating right now, or just listening and letting Heechul toss him around?
Heechul answered the question by straddling Taemin’s hips with his knees and pulling open his zipper. He reached down and dug a hand into Taemin’s shaggy black hair, hauling his head up.
“Suck,” he commanded.
Taemin hesitated. The position was uncomfortable, and he really did not have any desire to put his mouth on Heechul’s cock. The older man wasn’t even hard, for God’s sake.
But he’d signed up for this, knowing exactly what he was getting into. And he wasn’t about to back down now.
Taemin bent his head and did as he was told.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Eunhyuk was used to random strangers getting up on him when he was dancing. It was a hazard of being in a club, particularly the Phoenix. After all, half the reason he came here was because it was darker, louder, more crowded and more anonymous than any other club in Seoul.
So he didn't think anything of it when he felt a warm body press against his back and a pair of large hands stroke down his sides. He just reached back and wrapped an arm around the man's neck, twisting his head to get a glance at his new partner’s face. Between the dim, strobing lights and the bad angle, he couldn't see much, just a head of wild, shaggy hair and a broad pair of shoulders. The stranger was about his height, but built bigger, and he had excellent rhythm. Their bodies molded together perfectly, matching each other's movements as easily as breathing.
His new dance partner didn't grab or squeeze like most people would, didn't grope, but neither did he just leave his hands someplace safe. Instead, his hands slid warmly over Eunhyuk, arms and chest and stomach and back and neck and hips, as if he was mapping Eunhyuk's body by touch.
Generally speaking, Eunhyuk was pretty difficult to turn on. He just wasn't a very sexual person. When he was dancing, he danced for himself, because it felt good, and people had told him it was sexy but he'd never really thought of it as anything other than stress relief. But there was something about this stranger's firm, searching touch that was making his heartbeat speed up. Eunhyuk swallowed thickly, arching into the touch as he danced.
It wasn't until the stranger's hands started sliding over his thighs, and then lower, that Eunhyuk started to wonder what the heck the man was doing. Who felt up someone's knees on the dance floor?
He was so confused and distracted that he didn't realize the man was actually frisking him until those hands found the little compact pistol strapped to his ankle. Startled, he looked down in time to see the man pull the pistol from its holster. The man looked up and smirked, his face finally lit by the colored strobes, and Eunhyuk froze in shock, the pounding of blood in his ears suddenly all but drowning out the music.
Donghae.
He slithered back up Eunhyuk's body, adjusting his grip on the pistol and flicking the safety off, and leaned close.
"I've been looking for this," he said over the music. Eunhyuk felt the muzzle of the gun pressing into his ribs. “Let’s take a walk.”
Caught completely off-guard, Eunhyuk did nothing to resist. He couldn’t even contact Leeteuk - the club was too loud to use the throat mike. He just let Donghae wrap a controlling arm around his shoulders and lead him through the crowd of dancers to the exit.
To the rest of the crowd they probably looked like friends, or maybe even a couple, leaving the club for the night. Donghae’s grip was strong, but the position of his arm would look casual to an outside observer, and he was holding Eunhyuk very close against his side to hide his gun hand from observation. Eunhyuk guessed that he could slip Donghae’s grip, but he would have to wait until he had a clear path of escape or he would probably just get shot as he was running away.
They were almost to the exit when a loud, slurred voice sounded out over the fading noise of the dance floor.
“What the fuck is this?”
It took Eunhyuk a moment to place the voice. It was the man who had tried to take him home a few weeks ago, the night Eunhyuk rescued Hankyung. Sijun. Great.
Donghae kept walking, ignoring the drunken shout. Then Eunhyuk was suddenly ripped out of Donghae’s hold by an equally strong and much less gentlemanly grip.
“I knew it,” Sijun sneered, pulling Eunhyuk roughly into his arms. “I knew anyone who dances like you would be easy. Leaving with some random dude, what the hell? You think he’s better than me?”
If he’d had his wits with him he probably could have gotten free, used what Hangeng had taught him, but Sijun’s drunken anger and abusive hold were way scarier than Donghae’s stonefaced threats. He panicked, and his struggles were wild and undirected.
“Let go of him.”
Eunhyuk looked back over his shoulder. The gun had disappeared from Donghae’s hand; gun control in Korea being what it was, he couldn’t afford to be seen with it in public. He was just standing there, floppy-haired and unimposing-looking, but the sheer anger on his face made Eunhyuk’s heart skip fearfully.
Sijun was too drunk to pick up on the danger. “Yeah? What the fuck are you going to do about it, pretty boy? You wanna join us? I'm sure this little slut can take us both.”
Eunhyuk sucked in a breath, stunned by the unbelievably degrading insinuation. Donghae’s eyes narrowed. His long fingers curled into a fist, the tension evident all the way up his arm. “Last chance, asshole.”
Sijun spat on the floor between them. “Bite me, dickwad.”
Donghae took two steps forward and slammed his fist into Sijun’s gut. His arm just barely brushed Eunhyuk’s side, and Hyuk could feel enough power behind that bare touch to decide right then that he was never, ever going to let Donghae land a punch on him. He did not want to be on the receiving end of that fist.
Sijun doubled over in pain, his eyes bugging out of his head. His grip on Eunhyuk loosened and Hyuk ripped himself free, turning with every intent of fleeing both of them. He managed to get back to the dance floor and surrounded by people before he glanced back to see if Donghae was following.
He wasn’t. He was kicking the ever-loving crap out of Sijun. Clearly, the man’s attitude had pissed him off.
It was kind of satisfying to see, actually.
Donghae grabbed Sijun by the ears and slammed his knee into Sijun’s face. Sijun crumpled to the ground, bleeding and coughing, and only then did Donghae remember what he was doing and look around for Eunhyuk.
Hyuk didn’t wait for Donghae to see him. He melted into the crowd, weaving between the bodies on the dance floor until he could get out the back exit.
He didn’t dare walk out onto the main street, so he scaled the side of the building to the roof. From there, he peeked over the side. Sure enough, Donghae was across the street, half-hidden by a large dumpster, watching the doors and waiting for Eunhyuk to come out.
Shaken but thankfully free and unhurt, Hyuk grabbed his sweatshirt from where he’d left it and disappeared over the rooftops.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After the lesson was done, Heechul sent Taemin home with a bag full of just-purchased, brand-new supplies and a laundry list of instructions. Standard practice - all the escorts were expected to be familiar with a certain variety of toys and accoutrements, and they were all expected to take a certain level of care of their appearance.
Moreso than ever before, though, handing over shopping bags filled with sex toys and skin products felt like giving explosives to a toddler. Taemin had handled the purposely borderline-abusive demonstration surprisingly well, but it was still very clear in his movements that while he was not a virgin, he was certainly not in any way well-practiced at this kind of thing. He had a slightly clumsy innocence to his movement, a certain wide-eyed and soft-featured look about him, that made Heechul horribly aware that he was, in essence, pimping out a child.
The thing that made Heechul sickest, though, was knowing full well that those precise qualities would make Taemin a huge hit amongst his customers, because they were the exact same qualities that had made Heechul himself so popular at that age.
Dressed in nothing but his robe, hair mussed and eyes sunken, Heechul braced his hands on his dresser and stared at himself in the mirror. He barely recognized the man looking back at him - a rapist, a pimp, a whore, and not even able to get any satisfaction from his sins.
When had he become this kind of monster?
With a resigned sigh and great mental effort, Heechul pushed that train of thought to the back of his mind and made his way to his computer desk. Pulling up the calendar, he busied himself working out a training schedule for Taemin. If he was going to whore out a teenager, the least he could do was try and prepare the kid as best he knew how.
He’d handle the basics, of course. As per their custom Heechul had even invited Siwon to be present when he was training Taemin; Siwon had kindly declined for Taemin’s sake but Heechul was starting to think it’d be a good idea to bring his lover in for a session or two. If nothing else, he knew Siwon would treat the kid respectfully. Heechul had shown him what a shitty client would look like; Siwon could show him what a good one would look like.
After that, he’d pass the kid to the other escorts. Back when he was a whore-in-training himself, he’d learned the most from fooling around with his more-experienced co-workers. Minho was a no-go, though; if he was going to ruin the kid’s life he could at least try not to sabotage his relationship as well. Jessica had the most experience, and Key would be...hmm.
Heechul narrowed his eyes at the schedule as an idea occurred to him. Key’d be a great teacher, but at some point Taemin would need experience with someone who would act more like a client, someone who hadn’t been on the other side of the proverbial bed. He’d originally thought Sunny or one of the waitresses would be his best bet - they’d all been eyeing Taemin when the kid wasn’t looking, he was sure he’d have plenty of volunteers - but now that he thought about it, since most of the Den’s clients were male, perhaps Jonghyun would be a better choice. And if he played his cards right, maybe he could kill two birds with one stone.
Playing matchmaker raised his spirits a little, and once he’d worked out a full training schedule right up to Taemin’s projected date of debut, he felt a tiny bit more functionally human. Functional enough, in any case, to pull on real clothes and head down the stairs to check on his domain.
Kangin saw him coming and immediately began pouring; by the time Heechul got to the bar his Cuba Libre was sitting there waiting. Heechul took it with a wry nod of thanks; Kangin knew he only drank rum when he was in a foul mood, so the drink was a clear signal that he was projecting his anger. Forcing his face into something a bit more pleasant, Heechul took a seat.
“How’s tonight?” he asked, taking a deep swig. The Coke and lime cut the rum to the point where Heechul couldn’t even taste it; his only clue that the drink was alcoholic at all was the faint burn that clawed weakly up his throat as he swallowed.
“Quiet,” Kangin told him. “How was the kid?”
Fuck, the one question Heechul didn’t want to hear. “Loud,” he retorted, making Kangin snort with laughter and avoiding having to actually answer him.
“Isn’t that kind of sick?”
Kangin and Heechul both looked up to see Leeteuk sitting two stools away, staring into his whisky with a furrow in his brow that made him look his age for a change.
“Sorry, what?” Kangin asked.
“You, with that kid. Taemin. He’s a decade younger than you are.”
Surprised, Kangin blinked, and shot a confused look at Heechul. Heechul ignored him, because Leeteuk was right. It was sick.
“I was his age when I got into this business,” Heechul pointed out blandly. “Younger.”
“Doesn’t make it right.”
Didn’t he know it. “I’m not in the business of right, Teukie, and you have been coming here long enough to know that. What bug crawled up your ass tonight?”
Leeteuk raised his head and glared, totally foreign on his perpetually sunny features and actually a little bit scary. He opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly shut it again, his eyes flicking over Heechul’s shoulder. That little bit of warning kept Heechul from jumping when warm hands landed on his shoulders and a loud voice sounded in his ear.
“Guess what I got?” Donghae sang.
Heechul looked back over his shoulder. “Syphilis?”
“Asshole.” Donghae hung one arm over Heechul’s shoulder and dug inside his jacket with the other. He pulled out a gun, just far enough to display it to the three of them without showing the rest of the room, and it was so familiar to see that itty bitty Smith and Wesson in Donghae’s hand that it took a second for Heechul to remember why this was a thing.
“Shit, you got it back?” he hissed, Donghae suddenly commanding his full attention. Hae shot him a shit-eating grin and tucked the gun back away. “How? Did you find them?”
“Just the redhead,” Donghae murmured. “Just Eunhyuk. He dropped something at the scene today and I did a little detective work.”
Kangin leaned over the bar with an unhappy look. “Fuck, Hae, you went by yourself?”
Donghae flapped a hand at him dismissively. “I was just there to look. But Eunhyuk was alone and totally not watching his back so I took the chance. Trust me, that guy’s not a fighter at all. He’s probably never thrown a punch in his life, let alone shot a gun. By himself he’s all smokescreen and empty threats.”
“Shit.” That was Leeteuk, and it was so out of character that all three Dragons turned to look. He was looking at his phone. “Sorry, I just remembered something. I have to go.” He tossed back the last of his whisky quickly, his other hand playing with the silver pendant he always wore, as was his habit whenever he was distressed. The glass clattered back to the bartop. “Keep my tab open until next time, yeah?” With a nod to Kangin and an unreadable look in Heechul’s direction, Leeteuk gathered up his coat and disappeared.
Heechul felt a headache coming on. “Okay, so you got the gun. So where’s Eunhyuk?”
Donghae snorted. “You know how it is with those assholes,” he said derisively. “Take your eyes off them for one second and they’re gone.”
Yes, Heechul was intimately acquainted with that little detail. He swallowed around a suddenly dry throat, his fingers tightening on his glass. “He got away, then,” he muttered.
“Yep. And he’s not stupid, so I doubt he’ll go anywhere near that place ever again. It’s too bad, but hey,” Donghae said, grinning. “At least I got my baby back.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Since Henry had seen Taemin leaving the Den sometime in the middle of his second set, he fully expected to find the house dark and Taemin sound asleep when he returned home just before three AM. To his surprise, he found that not only were all the lights on, but the contents of the shopping bag his roommate had been carrying on his way out the door were strewn across the coffee table. Frowning, Henry hung his jacket on the hook by the door, toes off his shoes and stepped into the room to take a closer look.
What the everloving -
“Taemin?” he called.
“I’m in the bathroom, hyung,” came the muffled response. Henry didn’t move, staring in shock at the assortment of packages in front of him.
“Um. Why are there sex toys all over the coffee table?”
The bathroom door opened, and Taemin, wearing only a towel around his hips and with his hair pulled back in a clip and some sort of ugly pink skin mask on his face, stuck his head out. “They’re my homework,” he said cheerily.
Henry didn’t think he could get more shocked. He was wrong.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“My homework. Well, some of it, anyway.” Taemin arched an eyebrow, which looked utterly weird with that thick cream on his face. “You don’t want details, do you?”
Henry shuddered. “God no.” Then what Taemin had said sunk in, and he added, “Wait, some of it? Do I want to know the rest of it?”
Taemin gestured at his face. “You’re looking at it. Here, this is just about done, let me get rid of this crap.” He ducked back into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as he started washing off his face.
Standing awkwardly in his own living room, cusioursity overrode Henry’s common sense and he looked back down at the table. Vibrators, dildos and butt plugs in various sizes and shapes. A monster pack of condoms and another of lube. And… oh dear God what the fuck were “anal beads”?
Deciding he really did not want to know, Henry hurriedly walked towards the bathroom, putting the sex shop on his coffee table behind him so he wouldn’t have to look at it. Taemin had gotten the cream off his face and was pulling on his sleep shorts, letting the towel drop completely unselfconsciously. He’d never had much modesty - being a dancer had forced him into dozens of backstage and green-room quick changes and some of his costumes required a lack of reasonable underwear - but that had never bothered Henry until now. He wasn’t used to thinking of his dongsaeng as a sexual being at all, let alone an...an escort. Hell, Taemin had been “in training” for weeks now and he still wasn’t used to it.
“How was your first night?” Henry asked, needing to hear the answer even if he was not certain he wanted to hear the answer.
Squirting some sort of lotion onto his fingers - that was new, wasn’t it? Henry hadn’t seen it before - Taemin turned to him with a flash of a smile. “It didn’t suck,” he said. “I honestly thought it was going to suck horribly but it didn’t. It wasn’t what I expected, though.” He started rubbing the lotion onto his cheeks.
“Do I want to know just how it was...not what you expected?” Henry asked.
“Probably not,” Taemin told him honestly. “But it didn’t suck. And he gave me a bunch of stuff to take home.”
Henry closed his eyes. “I noticed.”
“Not just that stuff. Like. A bunch of skin care stuff too. And some other things. Ooh! Hyung, you have to feel my legs!”
Wait. What? Henry’s eyes popped open. “I have to feel your what now?” he asked, thinking he’d misheard.
“My legs! Heenim gave me this recipe for this stuff, and shit, I feel like a baby’s butt now.” Taemin propped his foot up on the sink in front of Henry, unconsciously displaying a ludicrous amount of flexibility. “I’m serious, it’s the coolest thing.”
Henry didn’t move, so Taemin grabbed his hand and put it on his leg, and yeah, okay, whoa. He’d shaved, clearly, which was weird but Taemin had never had much leg hair to begin with, and his skin was impossibly soft and smooth. And Henry was probably the only man who worked at the Den who was 100% straight, but even he could see the appeal of perfectly smooth and unblemished skin over long lean muscle, and the idea made his stomach lurch. He didn’t want Taemin to be sexy. He wanted Taemin to be safe.
It was made worse because he knew Key and Minho had the freaky/exotic and masculine markets cornered, respectively, leaving a neat, Wookie-shaped space for Taemin to fill, aimed at the clientele that liked their hookers androgynously pretty and criminally young-looking. The thought of a random horny businessman with a wife and kids and urges he couldn’t satisfy in accepted society putting his hands on Taemin in any way, let alone that way, gave Henry the urge to kidnap Taemin and take him out of the fucking country just to keep it from happening.
But it wasn’t his choice, it was Taemin’s. And he somehow seemed to be looking forward to it.
“Henry?” Taemin asked, and his voice was a little softer now, unsure. With a start, Henry realized he’d just been standing there with his hand on Taemin’s thigh, lost in his thoughts, and he quickly pulled away.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
Taemin put his new lotion up in the medicine cabinet. He wasn’t looking at Henry, and it felt purposeful. “You’re freaking out,” he observed under his breath.
Fuck. No point in denying it - as if he could ever keep his emotions from showing on his face. “Yeah. Sorry.”
A shrug. “It’s alright,” Taemin told him, flashing him another smile, softer this time. “I get it. It’s just, uh...are you gonna be okay with this?” He gestured sort of vaguely at the skin care products, the coffee table, himself. “Because Heenim said I could live at the Den, if I wanted. I could take the open room.”
“No!” Henry blurted out immediately. Taemin blinked, taken aback at his vehemence. “I mean. If you want to you can, I can find a one-bedroom place for myself. But I’d rather you keep living here.” So that he didn’t have to sleep in the same bed he let strangers fuck him in, and so Henry could keep an eye on him. “It’s closer to the school and your dance studio and everything, and there’s more space and stuff…”
Taemin’s smile was shy but pleased. “Okay,” he said. “I’d rather stay anyway. I just...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
His face scrunching unhappily, Henry surged forward and wrapped his arms around Taemin’s shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he said mournfully. “I’m being a terrible hyung. Don’t you worry about whether I’m uncomfortable, Taeminnie. That’s my problem. I’ll get over it.” He’d do his best, anyway. And he would definitely be keeping an eye on the younger boy, and if he got even one hint Taemin needed to get out, they were both gone.
Taemin dropped his head onto Henry’s shoulder. “Thanks, hyung,” he murmured.
Sighing, Henry locked his hands at the small of Taemin’s back and rested his chin on Taemin’s shoulder in response. “You’re really gonna do this, huh?” he asked. “No going back now.”
A small shake of the head; Taemin’s silly hairclip brushing his cheek. “I never do anything halfway,” he pointed out. “You know that.”
Henry had to chuckle. “Yeah.” He tightened his grip. “Well, I’m here if you need me.”
He felt, rather than saw, Taemin smiling against his shoulder. “I know.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The world was a dark, damp cage. The walls were stone; there was no door. It was cold, and the cold was all the more sharply felt because of his lack of clothes.
He was trapped.
And there Heechul stood, dressed only in black slacks, watching him with fathomless eyes and a sinful, evil smirk.
Hangeng leapt forward, but he was pulled up short by the iron chains around his wrists.
Heechul laughed.
Furious, Geng yanked on his chains with every last ounce of strength he had. His wrists screamed in agony. Unable to reach Heechul, he snarled in frustration, a wordless challenge that came from somewhere deep in his psyche.
Circling him, taking him in with dark, bottomless eyes, Heechul licked his lips, slowly and deliberately. His tongue was long and red and firm enough to distort his lip as it swiped over, showcasing their plushness, making them wet and glistening, thick and soft and perfect.
Hangeng struggled even harder, harder than he’d thought possible. He had to get to him. He had to touch him. Grab him. Pin him down.
Fuck his brains out.
Heechul’s smile was so damn sinister. He took one step closer. Two.
Hangeng yanked violently on the chains. He had to TOUCH. Heechul’s skin - pale and smooth and flawless as a Ming vase - was SO. FUCKING. CLOSE.
In one graceful motion, Heechul dropped to his knees and pressed his lush, lovely lips to Hangeng’s throbbing cock.
The noise that Geng made was more animal than human.
Heechul closed his eyes briefly and smiled like a cat lazing in the sun, those gorgeous lips stretching and curving slowly against Geng’s heated skin. He reached up with both hands, digging his claws into Geng’s ribs, and slit his eyes back open to watch Geng’s face.
Unable to not, Geng thrust forward, sliding his dick along Heechul’s lips. Heechul’s mouth opened and it felt like heaven and then painpainPAIN as he tore down Geng’s sides and laid him completely open and blood flowed down Heechul’s porcelain arms and Geng ROARED -
- and woke himself up with his own voice.
Again.
Cursing vehemently under his breath, Geng sat up and rubbed at his face. At this rate, he was never going to get a full night’s sleep.
Ugh. At least this had been a new dream, and not just Siwon’s bedroom again. Or the alley. It hadn’t even been a week yet and he’d already had two dreams about pinning Heechul to the cold brick walls of that cramped little alley. The first one had gotten stuck in that sick little moment, where they were pressed together and just staring at each other and Geng could feel his sanity slipping away.
The second dream, though...it ended in a very different place than reality had. In the dream Heechul had overpowered him, knocked him down flat on the dirty bricks underfoot and held him at gunpoint while pleasuring himself with Geng’s cock. The rest of the dream was fuzzy (how did Heechul manage to get the upper hand? Where had their clothes gone?) but the image in his mind of Heechul riding him was crystal fucking clear. The gravel digging into his back. His hands pinned by Heechul’s knees. The gun barrel pointed right between his eyes, and the sight of Heechul’s nude, lithe body rolling and bobbing behind it. The fierce ecstasy in Heechul’s eyes, his low moans, his rough, nasty words. And most of all, the incredible, intense feeling of Heechul forcing himself down on Geng’s throbbing, oversensitive cock, his ass tight as a vise and burning hot and slick with some sort of mystery lubricant the dream had thoughtfully provided.
Hangeng couldn’t help but wonder if the reality of fucking Heechul could possibly be as good as his subconscious seemed to think. There was no way he was as tight as in Geng’s imagination, not if he took Siwon’s cock on a regular basis.
On the other hand, though, Heechul was very small-framed, and his hips and ass were tiny, narrow, almost delicate. The way he writhed when he was being fucked showed that he knew exactly what he was doing, and Geng was willing to bet he was an expert with his inner muscles as well, knew exactly how to flutter and squeeze them to drive his partner insane.
Fuck.
Arching against the bedsheets, Hangeng reached down his own body and gently, teasingly stroked his palm over the dampening outline of his erection through his briefs. Heechul probably loved to be on top, the controlling bastard. Geng could just see him, one hand braced on the chest of the man below him, one pushed into his sweaty hair, lost in his own pleasure. Biting at his thick, tender lower lip, brow furrowed and nose crinkled in lustful concentration, moaning and crying out, fuck yes.
Hangeng thrust up against his hand, then pushed his underwear down and wrapped his hand around his stiff, pulsating dick, imagining it was Heechul’s tight little asshole squeezing him. Imagining Heechul’s long, thin, moon-pale thighs braced on either side of his hips, lean and tight and smooth. Imagining his pretty pink nipples pebbled up in the cool night air, his well-formed, fully hard cock bobbing in front of him, his balls pressing against Geng’s pubic bone and ass slapping Geng’s thighs with every downstroke.
His hand sped up, and the Heechul in his mind moaned incoherently and opened his eyes, staring down at Geng with furious passion and awed lust, dragging the hand that had been in his hair down his body. He caressed his own lips, his neck, his chest; he tweaked his own nipples and Hangeng felt a heavy pulse of desire that translated to a new spurt of precome oozing down his fingers. He let his other hand reach down to caress his balls, watching his imaginary Princess drag that hand lower, across his own ribs and stomach to his cock, crying out wantonly as he fisted it and started to jerk himself.
Geng propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes unfocusing into the darkness of his room. He could almost see Heechul above him in the shadows, almost hear his voice. He didn’t have to imagine what Heechul would sound like, because he knew, he’d heard it for himself. Knew that he would start to swear, his mouth getting filthier as his movements got more desperate, knew that his sultry, smooth voice would get louder and higher (but not as high as Geng’s, because Geng got fucking girly when he was close), knew that he would be biting his lip and tossing his hair and giving Geng that fucking look.
In his imagination, Hangeng reached up, buried his hand in Heechul’s hair and yanked the smaller man down on top of him. Heechul fell against his chest with a startled gasp; his hands landed on Geng’s shoulders and instinctively curled into defensive claws. Geng arched, hissing as phantom nails dug into his skin. He attacked Heechul’s neck, sucking and laying harsh bites along his jaw and down his pale throat, hard enough to bruise, to draw blood. Heechul fought back, writhing and clawing and biting like a wildcat, and Geng held onto him and buried his face in his neck and fucked him hard.
Hannie, Hangeng heard in his ear. More, more you fucking bastard, harder! Teeth dug into his ear, and a scream like a mountain lion that was barely held back behind gritted teeth rang through his mind. Hangeng!!
Turning his head just in time, Hangeng yelled Heechul’s name into his pillow and came all over his hand. His other hand curled into the sheets next to him and ripped the fibers apart, an unconscious, uncontrollable muscle convulsion that left his hand locked up and stiff.
The illusion evaporated and Geng collapsed back into the sheets, staring up into the suddenly empty darkness and trying to catch his breath, to unclench his hands, to feel his fucking face.
That was incredible.
...
...Well shit.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Long time no see, guys! I am so sorry this chapter took so long - none of the characters were cooperating. ;_;
Special thanks to my beta ajkdoyou for kicking my ass repeatedly until I managed to break through the wall of writer’s block. I wish I could say that I would be posting regularly going forward, but, well, that would be a lie. But I haven’t forgotten this fic, or given up on it! So please be patient ^^
(Also, I have finally figured out formatting! Hooray! I'll probably go back and fix the previous chapters someday.)
In the meantime, I am writing some sporadically-updated EXO fics, if you’re into that, both on LJ and on AFF. And everyone should come hang out with me on Tumblr, because I have entertaining tags, I guess? And if you want to talk about this fic, ask me questions, whatever, you can do so over there! Just drop me an ask. I am totally willing to give out some spoilers and stuff, and the more people get me talking about this fic the more likely I am to update it ^^
Thanks for sticking with me, you guys <3
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Super Junior, with SHINee & SNSD in supporting roles & other KPop artists in minor/cameo roles
Pairings: Main focus on Siwon/Heechul and Siwon/Heechul/Hangeng, with numerous side pairings.
Genre: Action, drama, some angst. OrganizedCrime!AU.
Summary: Three weeks later, the Dragons still have no way of finding their attackers. Then Hangeng practically drops into Heechul’s lap, and things spin wildly out of control.
Notes & Warnings: AU, violence, foul language, prostitution, explicit sex. For this chapter: brief depictions of borderline/attempted sexual assault
(Need a refresher? Previous parts in this series here.)
Sitting on the subway with his hood pulled up over his head, Kyuhyun sightlessly scrolled through his phone in an attempt to distract himself from the fuming anger. Because seriously, who the fuck did Leeteuk think he was? Where the hell did he get off kicking Kyuhyun out without warning?
He was going to regret it, that was for damn sure.
Kyuhyun clicked over to his message history on his simple, pay-by-the-minute, no-data, anonymous phone purchased with a false credit card under a false name. There weren’t any games or apps on his phone, so scrolling back through his message history was pretty much the only vaguely entertaining thing he could do with it.
He opened the text conversation from yesterday - the one that had distracted him right as the truck was being loaded.
From: Anonymous
Are you planning to leave the country?
To: Anonymous
No. They set me up with a fake ID, and I moved. I'm being careful.
From: Anonymous
You should just go.
To: Anonymous
Why should I? There’s no need to run. I have so much incriminating evidence against the Dragons, and I can use it to my advantage.
From: Anonymous
...Are you going to turn them in to the cops?
To: Anonymous
Not yet. That’s a last resort. It’s my protection. Trust me, when you’re dealing with an organization like the Dragons, you’d better have some kind of protection.
Why are you suddenly contacting me again? Have you considered my offer?
From: Anonymous
I’m still thinking about it.
To: Anonymous
Well, don’t hesitate too long. It’s not an unlimited offer, you know.
That was right about when the truck had pulled out of the alley, and Kyuhyun let the conversation drop in favor of contacting Leeteuk.
He’d learned one thing for sure during this exchange - his mysterious contact was not Donghae, Sungmin, or any of Donghae’s gang. Not that he’d really had any suspicion, but still it was nice to have it confirmed. There was no way anyone would be stupid enough to start up a text conversation while on a job, let alone with one of the Dragons’ enemies.
Actually, thinking about it, that gave him an idea.
He’d found out, through the course of this job, that Leeteuk had access to the Den’s camera feeds through a private server. And he knew it wasn’t a closed, local network either; the server had to be accessible from outside the house, because Leeteuk and Eunhyuk could access it on their smartphones.
If he could somehow hack into that server and get access to the cameras, from there it would just be a matter of watching the cameras while texting his anonymous savior. He just had to wait and see who checked their phone, and he’d have his answer.
With something that resembled a plan in mind, Kyuhyun was a lot calmer when his stop came and he exited the subway.
Following the directions to his gaming friend’s place took just a few minutes, and then he was knocking on an almost-stranger’s door.
Seungri - not his real name, but his gaming handle was ‘SeungriVVIP” and so he’d just always thought of him as Seungri - was a quiet, sharp-eyed young man who despite being several years younger than Kyuhyun was already living on his own. He referred to Kyuhyun as Gyu or Gamer, having never learned Kyuhyun’s real name, and he seemed totally at ease with this random stranger whom he’d only ever spoken to in text form crashing on his couch.
They ordered in takeout and chatted a little about nothing at all. Seungri did not ask Kyuhyun about his life, his family, his job, and that was why, as the conversation wore down, Kyuhyun felt at ease enough to bring up the project he wanted to start - hacking into a secured server remotely.
Seungri lit up at the prospect and started firing questions at him. Kyuhyun answered as best he could, hiding his glee.
Leeteuk wouldn’t know what hit him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Taemin didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous.
Up until now, working for the Den had pretty much consisted of rehearsals in the afternoons. The escorts and musicians were preparing a completely new show to coincide with Taemin’s debut as an escort, and Taemin had been getting some singing coaching from Jessica and pole-dancing lessons from Hyoyeon in preparation, on top of working with all of the escorts to choreograph the new numbers that Henry, Jonghyun and Seohyun were writing.
But tonight was when he was due to begin his actual escort training, which was a completely different and far more terrifying animal.
His nerves were not assuaged at all by the mood of the Den when he walked in that night, either. Seohyun in the kitchen and Jonghyun behind the bar were both uncharacteristically quiet, preparing for the bar’s opening in less than an hour with their heads down and their mouths shut. The escorts were locked away in their rooms, and none of the Dragons were anywhere to be found, leaving Sunny the only person on the main floor when Taemin and Henry walked in.
Trained as they both were by years of working at Kwon Garden downtown, Henry and Taemin immediately began helping Sunny set up for the night. Henry started pulling chairs down from the tabletops while Taemin grabbed a rag and bucket and started wiping things down.
“Why’s everything so quiet tonight, noona?” Taemin asked Sunny under his breath.
Sunny shot him a tight smile. “Something went down earlier,” she informed him. “Dragon-related. Most of us don’t know the details. But they’re all in a bad mood - Kangin, Heenim, Donghae, even Siwon.” She nodded up the stairs to Heechul’s closed door. “No one wants to make themselves a target.” She took in Taemin’s suddenly pale face and realized, “Oh jeeze, you’re supposed to be training with Heenim tonight, aren’t you?”
Taemin nodded helplessly.
“Good luck,” Sunny said with solemn sincerity.
They finished setting up the dining room in silence as the wait staff started to trickle in. The whispering started when Sunny began relaying the situation to her staff, and when Taemin started to feel eyes following him, he decided it would be better to just face the dragon, so to speak.
He was less sure when Heechul opened the door, dark circles under his eyes and a hard, wild look on his face.
“Get in here,” Heechul growled. Taemin jumped at the command and quickly ducked past him into the room. The door shut and then Heechul was on him, shoving him against the closed doors and slamming his lips roughly down onto Taemin’s.
Taemin’s first instinct was to fight back, to push him away. Heechul was having none of it, though, pinning his hands down to his sides and continuing his assault. Guessing that this was part of his training, Taemin tried very hard to relax.
“Lesson one,” Heechul snarled quietly against his mouth. “Customers are assholes.”
Okay. Point taken.
“If you’re gonna be one of my kids,” Heechul continued, his mouth having migrated around towards Taemin’s ear, “you need to understand something. You are a prostitute. That does not mean that you are not a person.”
Teeth sank into Taemin’s ear, making him jump and cry out.
“You are expected to do everything you can to fulfil a customer’s desires.” Heechul continued, punctuating each word with nips and licks. “But you must remember that there are things a human being with dignity cannot do. And you must learn now, before you get up on my stage or into one of my rooms, where the line is.”
He leaned down further and bit down on Taemin’s shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to hurt.
“This is that line,” Heechul continued, his voice a low snarl. “I am not causing you true injury. I am not bruising you or drawing blood. This is as far as you let a customer take things with you. No farther. Understand me?”
It took a moment too long for Taemin to respond, and Heechul wrapped a hand around his neck, just tight enough to be uncomfortable. “You understand me?”
He nodded quickly. Heechul let him go and pushed him forward. Not so hard that he fell to the ground, but hard enough that he stumbled.
Taemin was starting to get the picture, now.
“Get on the bed,” Heechul commanded, pointing through the door to the bedroom. Taemin hurried to comply. Following him, Heechul closed the inner door and locked it.
“Customers are assholes, and they will try and take more than you are willing to give.” He pushed Taemin down onto the bed. Taemin went, again resisting the urge to fight back. “The key to being a successful escort is to know where the line is and how to bring a customer back from crossing it without insulting them or ending the encounter.”
Eyes wide, Taemin nodded again. Was he supposed to be participating right now, or just listening and letting Heechul toss him around?
Heechul answered the question by straddling Taemin’s hips with his knees and pulling open his zipper. He reached down and dug a hand into Taemin’s shaggy black hair, hauling his head up.
“Suck,” he commanded.
Taemin hesitated. The position was uncomfortable, and he really did not have any desire to put his mouth on Heechul’s cock. The older man wasn’t even hard, for God’s sake.
But he’d signed up for this, knowing exactly what he was getting into. And he wasn’t about to back down now.
Taemin bent his head and did as he was told.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Eunhyuk was used to random strangers getting up on him when he was dancing. It was a hazard of being in a club, particularly the Phoenix. After all, half the reason he came here was because it was darker, louder, more crowded and more anonymous than any other club in Seoul.
So he didn't think anything of it when he felt a warm body press against his back and a pair of large hands stroke down his sides. He just reached back and wrapped an arm around the man's neck, twisting his head to get a glance at his new partner’s face. Between the dim, strobing lights and the bad angle, he couldn't see much, just a head of wild, shaggy hair and a broad pair of shoulders. The stranger was about his height, but built bigger, and he had excellent rhythm. Their bodies molded together perfectly, matching each other's movements as easily as breathing.
His new dance partner didn't grab or squeeze like most people would, didn't grope, but neither did he just leave his hands someplace safe. Instead, his hands slid warmly over Eunhyuk, arms and chest and stomach and back and neck and hips, as if he was mapping Eunhyuk's body by touch.
Generally speaking, Eunhyuk was pretty difficult to turn on. He just wasn't a very sexual person. When he was dancing, he danced for himself, because it felt good, and people had told him it was sexy but he'd never really thought of it as anything other than stress relief. But there was something about this stranger's firm, searching touch that was making his heartbeat speed up. Eunhyuk swallowed thickly, arching into the touch as he danced.
It wasn't until the stranger's hands started sliding over his thighs, and then lower, that Eunhyuk started to wonder what the heck the man was doing. Who felt up someone's knees on the dance floor?
He was so confused and distracted that he didn't realize the man was actually frisking him until those hands found the little compact pistol strapped to his ankle. Startled, he looked down in time to see the man pull the pistol from its holster. The man looked up and smirked, his face finally lit by the colored strobes, and Eunhyuk froze in shock, the pounding of blood in his ears suddenly all but drowning out the music.
Donghae.
He slithered back up Eunhyuk's body, adjusting his grip on the pistol and flicking the safety off, and leaned close.
"I've been looking for this," he said over the music. Eunhyuk felt the muzzle of the gun pressing into his ribs. “Let’s take a walk.”
Caught completely off-guard, Eunhyuk did nothing to resist. He couldn’t even contact Leeteuk - the club was too loud to use the throat mike. He just let Donghae wrap a controlling arm around his shoulders and lead him through the crowd of dancers to the exit.
To the rest of the crowd they probably looked like friends, or maybe even a couple, leaving the club for the night. Donghae’s grip was strong, but the position of his arm would look casual to an outside observer, and he was holding Eunhyuk very close against his side to hide his gun hand from observation. Eunhyuk guessed that he could slip Donghae’s grip, but he would have to wait until he had a clear path of escape or he would probably just get shot as he was running away.
They were almost to the exit when a loud, slurred voice sounded out over the fading noise of the dance floor.
“What the fuck is this?”
It took Eunhyuk a moment to place the voice. It was the man who had tried to take him home a few weeks ago, the night Eunhyuk rescued Hankyung. Sijun. Great.
Donghae kept walking, ignoring the drunken shout. Then Eunhyuk was suddenly ripped out of Donghae’s hold by an equally strong and much less gentlemanly grip.
“I knew it,” Sijun sneered, pulling Eunhyuk roughly into his arms. “I knew anyone who dances like you would be easy. Leaving with some random dude, what the hell? You think he’s better than me?”
If he’d had his wits with him he probably could have gotten free, used what Hangeng had taught him, but Sijun’s drunken anger and abusive hold were way scarier than Donghae’s stonefaced threats. He panicked, and his struggles were wild and undirected.
“Let go of him.”
Eunhyuk looked back over his shoulder. The gun had disappeared from Donghae’s hand; gun control in Korea being what it was, he couldn’t afford to be seen with it in public. He was just standing there, floppy-haired and unimposing-looking, but the sheer anger on his face made Eunhyuk’s heart skip fearfully.
Sijun was too drunk to pick up on the danger. “Yeah? What the fuck are you going to do about it, pretty boy? You wanna join us? I'm sure this little slut can take us both.”
Eunhyuk sucked in a breath, stunned by the unbelievably degrading insinuation. Donghae’s eyes narrowed. His long fingers curled into a fist, the tension evident all the way up his arm. “Last chance, asshole.”
Sijun spat on the floor between them. “Bite me, dickwad.”
Donghae took two steps forward and slammed his fist into Sijun’s gut. His arm just barely brushed Eunhyuk’s side, and Hyuk could feel enough power behind that bare touch to decide right then that he was never, ever going to let Donghae land a punch on him. He did not want to be on the receiving end of that fist.
Sijun doubled over in pain, his eyes bugging out of his head. His grip on Eunhyuk loosened and Hyuk ripped himself free, turning with every intent of fleeing both of them. He managed to get back to the dance floor and surrounded by people before he glanced back to see if Donghae was following.
He wasn’t. He was kicking the ever-loving crap out of Sijun. Clearly, the man’s attitude had pissed him off.
It was kind of satisfying to see, actually.
Donghae grabbed Sijun by the ears and slammed his knee into Sijun’s face. Sijun crumpled to the ground, bleeding and coughing, and only then did Donghae remember what he was doing and look around for Eunhyuk.
Hyuk didn’t wait for Donghae to see him. He melted into the crowd, weaving between the bodies on the dance floor until he could get out the back exit.
He didn’t dare walk out onto the main street, so he scaled the side of the building to the roof. From there, he peeked over the side. Sure enough, Donghae was across the street, half-hidden by a large dumpster, watching the doors and waiting for Eunhyuk to come out.
Shaken but thankfully free and unhurt, Hyuk grabbed his sweatshirt from where he’d left it and disappeared over the rooftops.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After the lesson was done, Heechul sent Taemin home with a bag full of just-purchased, brand-new supplies and a laundry list of instructions. Standard practice - all the escorts were expected to be familiar with a certain variety of toys and accoutrements, and they were all expected to take a certain level of care of their appearance.
Moreso than ever before, though, handing over shopping bags filled with sex toys and skin products felt like giving explosives to a toddler. Taemin had handled the purposely borderline-abusive demonstration surprisingly well, but it was still very clear in his movements that while he was not a virgin, he was certainly not in any way well-practiced at this kind of thing. He had a slightly clumsy innocence to his movement, a certain wide-eyed and soft-featured look about him, that made Heechul horribly aware that he was, in essence, pimping out a child.
The thing that made Heechul sickest, though, was knowing full well that those precise qualities would make Taemin a huge hit amongst his customers, because they were the exact same qualities that had made Heechul himself so popular at that age.
Dressed in nothing but his robe, hair mussed and eyes sunken, Heechul braced his hands on his dresser and stared at himself in the mirror. He barely recognized the man looking back at him - a rapist, a pimp, a whore, and not even able to get any satisfaction from his sins.
When had he become this kind of monster?
With a resigned sigh and great mental effort, Heechul pushed that train of thought to the back of his mind and made his way to his computer desk. Pulling up the calendar, he busied himself working out a training schedule for Taemin. If he was going to whore out a teenager, the least he could do was try and prepare the kid as best he knew how.
He’d handle the basics, of course. As per their custom Heechul had even invited Siwon to be present when he was training Taemin; Siwon had kindly declined for Taemin’s sake but Heechul was starting to think it’d be a good idea to bring his lover in for a session or two. If nothing else, he knew Siwon would treat the kid respectfully. Heechul had shown him what a shitty client would look like; Siwon could show him what a good one would look like.
After that, he’d pass the kid to the other escorts. Back when he was a whore-in-training himself, he’d learned the most from fooling around with his more-experienced co-workers. Minho was a no-go, though; if he was going to ruin the kid’s life he could at least try not to sabotage his relationship as well. Jessica had the most experience, and Key would be...hmm.
Heechul narrowed his eyes at the schedule as an idea occurred to him. Key’d be a great teacher, but at some point Taemin would need experience with someone who would act more like a client, someone who hadn’t been on the other side of the proverbial bed. He’d originally thought Sunny or one of the waitresses would be his best bet - they’d all been eyeing Taemin when the kid wasn’t looking, he was sure he’d have plenty of volunteers - but now that he thought about it, since most of the Den’s clients were male, perhaps Jonghyun would be a better choice. And if he played his cards right, maybe he could kill two birds with one stone.
Playing matchmaker raised his spirits a little, and once he’d worked out a full training schedule right up to Taemin’s projected date of debut, he felt a tiny bit more functionally human. Functional enough, in any case, to pull on real clothes and head down the stairs to check on his domain.
Kangin saw him coming and immediately began pouring; by the time Heechul got to the bar his Cuba Libre was sitting there waiting. Heechul took it with a wry nod of thanks; Kangin knew he only drank rum when he was in a foul mood, so the drink was a clear signal that he was projecting his anger. Forcing his face into something a bit more pleasant, Heechul took a seat.
“How’s tonight?” he asked, taking a deep swig. The Coke and lime cut the rum to the point where Heechul couldn’t even taste it; his only clue that the drink was alcoholic at all was the faint burn that clawed weakly up his throat as he swallowed.
“Quiet,” Kangin told him. “How was the kid?”
Fuck, the one question Heechul didn’t want to hear. “Loud,” he retorted, making Kangin snort with laughter and avoiding having to actually answer him.
“Isn’t that kind of sick?”
Kangin and Heechul both looked up to see Leeteuk sitting two stools away, staring into his whisky with a furrow in his brow that made him look his age for a change.
“Sorry, what?” Kangin asked.
“You, with that kid. Taemin. He’s a decade younger than you are.”
Surprised, Kangin blinked, and shot a confused look at Heechul. Heechul ignored him, because Leeteuk was right. It was sick.
“I was his age when I got into this business,” Heechul pointed out blandly. “Younger.”
“Doesn’t make it right.”
Didn’t he know it. “I’m not in the business of right, Teukie, and you have been coming here long enough to know that. What bug crawled up your ass tonight?”
Leeteuk raised his head and glared, totally foreign on his perpetually sunny features and actually a little bit scary. He opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly shut it again, his eyes flicking over Heechul’s shoulder. That little bit of warning kept Heechul from jumping when warm hands landed on his shoulders and a loud voice sounded in his ear.
“Guess what I got?” Donghae sang.
Heechul looked back over his shoulder. “Syphilis?”
“Asshole.” Donghae hung one arm over Heechul’s shoulder and dug inside his jacket with the other. He pulled out a gun, just far enough to display it to the three of them without showing the rest of the room, and it was so familiar to see that itty bitty Smith and Wesson in Donghae’s hand that it took a second for Heechul to remember why this was a thing.
“Shit, you got it back?” he hissed, Donghae suddenly commanding his full attention. Hae shot him a shit-eating grin and tucked the gun back away. “How? Did you find them?”
“Just the redhead,” Donghae murmured. “Just Eunhyuk. He dropped something at the scene today and I did a little detective work.”
Kangin leaned over the bar with an unhappy look. “Fuck, Hae, you went by yourself?”
Donghae flapped a hand at him dismissively. “I was just there to look. But Eunhyuk was alone and totally not watching his back so I took the chance. Trust me, that guy’s not a fighter at all. He’s probably never thrown a punch in his life, let alone shot a gun. By himself he’s all smokescreen and empty threats.”
“Shit.” That was Leeteuk, and it was so out of character that all three Dragons turned to look. He was looking at his phone. “Sorry, I just remembered something. I have to go.” He tossed back the last of his whisky quickly, his other hand playing with the silver pendant he always wore, as was his habit whenever he was distressed. The glass clattered back to the bartop. “Keep my tab open until next time, yeah?” With a nod to Kangin and an unreadable look in Heechul’s direction, Leeteuk gathered up his coat and disappeared.
Heechul felt a headache coming on. “Okay, so you got the gun. So where’s Eunhyuk?”
Donghae snorted. “You know how it is with those assholes,” he said derisively. “Take your eyes off them for one second and they’re gone.”
Yes, Heechul was intimately acquainted with that little detail. He swallowed around a suddenly dry throat, his fingers tightening on his glass. “He got away, then,” he muttered.
“Yep. And he’s not stupid, so I doubt he’ll go anywhere near that place ever again. It’s too bad, but hey,” Donghae said, grinning. “At least I got my baby back.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Since Henry had seen Taemin leaving the Den sometime in the middle of his second set, he fully expected to find the house dark and Taemin sound asleep when he returned home just before three AM. To his surprise, he found that not only were all the lights on, but the contents of the shopping bag his roommate had been carrying on his way out the door were strewn across the coffee table. Frowning, Henry hung his jacket on the hook by the door, toes off his shoes and stepped into the room to take a closer look.
What the everloving -
“Taemin?” he called.
“I’m in the bathroom, hyung,” came the muffled response. Henry didn’t move, staring in shock at the assortment of packages in front of him.
“Um. Why are there sex toys all over the coffee table?”
The bathroom door opened, and Taemin, wearing only a towel around his hips and with his hair pulled back in a clip and some sort of ugly pink skin mask on his face, stuck his head out. “They’re my homework,” he said cheerily.
Henry didn’t think he could get more shocked. He was wrong.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“My homework. Well, some of it, anyway.” Taemin arched an eyebrow, which looked utterly weird with that thick cream on his face. “You don’t want details, do you?”
Henry shuddered. “God no.” Then what Taemin had said sunk in, and he added, “Wait, some of it? Do I want to know the rest of it?”
Taemin gestured at his face. “You’re looking at it. Here, this is just about done, let me get rid of this crap.” He ducked back into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as he started washing off his face.
Standing awkwardly in his own living room, cusioursity overrode Henry’s common sense and he looked back down at the table. Vibrators, dildos and butt plugs in various sizes and shapes. A monster pack of condoms and another of lube. And… oh dear God what the fuck were “anal beads”?
Deciding he really did not want to know, Henry hurriedly walked towards the bathroom, putting the sex shop on his coffee table behind him so he wouldn’t have to look at it. Taemin had gotten the cream off his face and was pulling on his sleep shorts, letting the towel drop completely unselfconsciously. He’d never had much modesty - being a dancer had forced him into dozens of backstage and green-room quick changes and some of his costumes required a lack of reasonable underwear - but that had never bothered Henry until now. He wasn’t used to thinking of his dongsaeng as a sexual being at all, let alone an...an escort. Hell, Taemin had been “in training” for weeks now and he still wasn’t used to it.
“How was your first night?” Henry asked, needing to hear the answer even if he was not certain he wanted to hear the answer.
Squirting some sort of lotion onto his fingers - that was new, wasn’t it? Henry hadn’t seen it before - Taemin turned to him with a flash of a smile. “It didn’t suck,” he said. “I honestly thought it was going to suck horribly but it didn’t. It wasn’t what I expected, though.” He started rubbing the lotion onto his cheeks.
“Do I want to know just how it was...not what you expected?” Henry asked.
“Probably not,” Taemin told him honestly. “But it didn’t suck. And he gave me a bunch of stuff to take home.”
Henry closed his eyes. “I noticed.”
“Not just that stuff. Like. A bunch of skin care stuff too. And some other things. Ooh! Hyung, you have to feel my legs!”
Wait. What? Henry’s eyes popped open. “I have to feel your what now?” he asked, thinking he’d misheard.
“My legs! Heenim gave me this recipe for this stuff, and shit, I feel like a baby’s butt now.” Taemin propped his foot up on the sink in front of Henry, unconsciously displaying a ludicrous amount of flexibility. “I’m serious, it’s the coolest thing.”
Henry didn’t move, so Taemin grabbed his hand and put it on his leg, and yeah, okay, whoa. He’d shaved, clearly, which was weird but Taemin had never had much leg hair to begin with, and his skin was impossibly soft and smooth. And Henry was probably the only man who worked at the Den who was 100% straight, but even he could see the appeal of perfectly smooth and unblemished skin over long lean muscle, and the idea made his stomach lurch. He didn’t want Taemin to be sexy. He wanted Taemin to be safe.
It was made worse because he knew Key and Minho had the freaky/exotic and masculine markets cornered, respectively, leaving a neat, Wookie-shaped space for Taemin to fill, aimed at the clientele that liked their hookers androgynously pretty and criminally young-looking. The thought of a random horny businessman with a wife and kids and urges he couldn’t satisfy in accepted society putting his hands on Taemin in any way, let alone that way, gave Henry the urge to kidnap Taemin and take him out of the fucking country just to keep it from happening.
But it wasn’t his choice, it was Taemin’s. And he somehow seemed to be looking forward to it.
“Henry?” Taemin asked, and his voice was a little softer now, unsure. With a start, Henry realized he’d just been standing there with his hand on Taemin’s thigh, lost in his thoughts, and he quickly pulled away.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
Taemin put his new lotion up in the medicine cabinet. He wasn’t looking at Henry, and it felt purposeful. “You’re freaking out,” he observed under his breath.
Fuck. No point in denying it - as if he could ever keep his emotions from showing on his face. “Yeah. Sorry.”
A shrug. “It’s alright,” Taemin told him, flashing him another smile, softer this time. “I get it. It’s just, uh...are you gonna be okay with this?” He gestured sort of vaguely at the skin care products, the coffee table, himself. “Because Heenim said I could live at the Den, if I wanted. I could take the open room.”
“No!” Henry blurted out immediately. Taemin blinked, taken aback at his vehemence. “I mean. If you want to you can, I can find a one-bedroom place for myself. But I’d rather you keep living here.” So that he didn’t have to sleep in the same bed he let strangers fuck him in, and so Henry could keep an eye on him. “It’s closer to the school and your dance studio and everything, and there’s more space and stuff…”
Taemin’s smile was shy but pleased. “Okay,” he said. “I’d rather stay anyway. I just...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
His face scrunching unhappily, Henry surged forward and wrapped his arms around Taemin’s shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he said mournfully. “I’m being a terrible hyung. Don’t you worry about whether I’m uncomfortable, Taeminnie. That’s my problem. I’ll get over it.” He’d do his best, anyway. And he would definitely be keeping an eye on the younger boy, and if he got even one hint Taemin needed to get out, they were both gone.
Taemin dropped his head onto Henry’s shoulder. “Thanks, hyung,” he murmured.
Sighing, Henry locked his hands at the small of Taemin’s back and rested his chin on Taemin’s shoulder in response. “You’re really gonna do this, huh?” he asked. “No going back now.”
A small shake of the head; Taemin’s silly hairclip brushing his cheek. “I never do anything halfway,” he pointed out. “You know that.”
Henry had to chuckle. “Yeah.” He tightened his grip. “Well, I’m here if you need me.”
He felt, rather than saw, Taemin smiling against his shoulder. “I know.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The world was a dark, damp cage. The walls were stone; there was no door. It was cold, and the cold was all the more sharply felt because of his lack of clothes.
He was trapped.
And there Heechul stood, dressed only in black slacks, watching him with fathomless eyes and a sinful, evil smirk.
Hangeng leapt forward, but he was pulled up short by the iron chains around his wrists.
Heechul laughed.
Furious, Geng yanked on his chains with every last ounce of strength he had. His wrists screamed in agony. Unable to reach Heechul, he snarled in frustration, a wordless challenge that came from somewhere deep in his psyche.
Circling him, taking him in with dark, bottomless eyes, Heechul licked his lips, slowly and deliberately. His tongue was long and red and firm enough to distort his lip as it swiped over, showcasing their plushness, making them wet and glistening, thick and soft and perfect.
Hangeng struggled even harder, harder than he’d thought possible. He had to get to him. He had to touch him. Grab him. Pin him down.
Fuck his brains out.
Heechul’s smile was so damn sinister. He took one step closer. Two.
Hangeng yanked violently on the chains. He had to TOUCH. Heechul’s skin - pale and smooth and flawless as a Ming vase - was SO. FUCKING. CLOSE.
In one graceful motion, Heechul dropped to his knees and pressed his lush, lovely lips to Hangeng’s throbbing cock.
The noise that Geng made was more animal than human.
Heechul closed his eyes briefly and smiled like a cat lazing in the sun, those gorgeous lips stretching and curving slowly against Geng’s heated skin. He reached up with both hands, digging his claws into Geng’s ribs, and slit his eyes back open to watch Geng’s face.
Unable to not, Geng thrust forward, sliding his dick along Heechul’s lips. Heechul’s mouth opened and it felt like heaven and then painpainPAIN as he tore down Geng’s sides and laid him completely open and blood flowed down Heechul’s porcelain arms and Geng ROARED -
- and woke himself up with his own voice.
Again.
Cursing vehemently under his breath, Geng sat up and rubbed at his face. At this rate, he was never going to get a full night’s sleep.
Ugh. At least this had been a new dream, and not just Siwon’s bedroom again. Or the alley. It hadn’t even been a week yet and he’d already had two dreams about pinning Heechul to the cold brick walls of that cramped little alley. The first one had gotten stuck in that sick little moment, where they were pressed together and just staring at each other and Geng could feel his sanity slipping away.
The second dream, though...it ended in a very different place than reality had. In the dream Heechul had overpowered him, knocked him down flat on the dirty bricks underfoot and held him at gunpoint while pleasuring himself with Geng’s cock. The rest of the dream was fuzzy (how did Heechul manage to get the upper hand? Where had their clothes gone?) but the image in his mind of Heechul riding him was crystal fucking clear. The gravel digging into his back. His hands pinned by Heechul’s knees. The gun barrel pointed right between his eyes, and the sight of Heechul’s nude, lithe body rolling and bobbing behind it. The fierce ecstasy in Heechul’s eyes, his low moans, his rough, nasty words. And most of all, the incredible, intense feeling of Heechul forcing himself down on Geng’s throbbing, oversensitive cock, his ass tight as a vise and burning hot and slick with some sort of mystery lubricant the dream had thoughtfully provided.
Hangeng couldn’t help but wonder if the reality of fucking Heechul could possibly be as good as his subconscious seemed to think. There was no way he was as tight as in Geng’s imagination, not if he took Siwon’s cock on a regular basis.
On the other hand, though, Heechul was very small-framed, and his hips and ass were tiny, narrow, almost delicate. The way he writhed when he was being fucked showed that he knew exactly what he was doing, and Geng was willing to bet he was an expert with his inner muscles as well, knew exactly how to flutter and squeeze them to drive his partner insane.
Fuck.
Arching against the bedsheets, Hangeng reached down his own body and gently, teasingly stroked his palm over the dampening outline of his erection through his briefs. Heechul probably loved to be on top, the controlling bastard. Geng could just see him, one hand braced on the chest of the man below him, one pushed into his sweaty hair, lost in his own pleasure. Biting at his thick, tender lower lip, brow furrowed and nose crinkled in lustful concentration, moaning and crying out, fuck yes.
Hangeng thrust up against his hand, then pushed his underwear down and wrapped his hand around his stiff, pulsating dick, imagining it was Heechul’s tight little asshole squeezing him. Imagining Heechul’s long, thin, moon-pale thighs braced on either side of his hips, lean and tight and smooth. Imagining his pretty pink nipples pebbled up in the cool night air, his well-formed, fully hard cock bobbing in front of him, his balls pressing against Geng’s pubic bone and ass slapping Geng’s thighs with every downstroke.
His hand sped up, and the Heechul in his mind moaned incoherently and opened his eyes, staring down at Geng with furious passion and awed lust, dragging the hand that had been in his hair down his body. He caressed his own lips, his neck, his chest; he tweaked his own nipples and Hangeng felt a heavy pulse of desire that translated to a new spurt of precome oozing down his fingers. He let his other hand reach down to caress his balls, watching his imaginary Princess drag that hand lower, across his own ribs and stomach to his cock, crying out wantonly as he fisted it and started to jerk himself.
Geng propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes unfocusing into the darkness of his room. He could almost see Heechul above him in the shadows, almost hear his voice. He didn’t have to imagine what Heechul would sound like, because he knew, he’d heard it for himself. Knew that he would start to swear, his mouth getting filthier as his movements got more desperate, knew that his sultry, smooth voice would get louder and higher (but not as high as Geng’s, because Geng got fucking girly when he was close), knew that he would be biting his lip and tossing his hair and giving Geng that fucking look.
In his imagination, Hangeng reached up, buried his hand in Heechul’s hair and yanked the smaller man down on top of him. Heechul fell against his chest with a startled gasp; his hands landed on Geng’s shoulders and instinctively curled into defensive claws. Geng arched, hissing as phantom nails dug into his skin. He attacked Heechul’s neck, sucking and laying harsh bites along his jaw and down his pale throat, hard enough to bruise, to draw blood. Heechul fought back, writhing and clawing and biting like a wildcat, and Geng held onto him and buried his face in his neck and fucked him hard.
Hannie, Hangeng heard in his ear. More, more you fucking bastard, harder! Teeth dug into his ear, and a scream like a mountain lion that was barely held back behind gritted teeth rang through his mind. Hangeng!!
Turning his head just in time, Hangeng yelled Heechul’s name into his pillow and came all over his hand. His other hand curled into the sheets next to him and ripped the fibers apart, an unconscious, uncontrollable muscle convulsion that left his hand locked up and stiff.
The illusion evaporated and Geng collapsed back into the sheets, staring up into the suddenly empty darkness and trying to catch his breath, to unclench his hands, to feel his fucking face.
That was incredible.
...
...Well shit.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Long time no see, guys! I am so sorry this chapter took so long - none of the characters were cooperating. ;_;
Special thanks to my beta ajkdoyou for kicking my ass repeatedly until I managed to break through the wall of writer’s block. I wish I could say that I would be posting regularly going forward, but, well, that would be a lie. But I haven’t forgotten this fic, or given up on it! So please be patient ^^
(Also, I have finally figured out formatting! Hooray! I'll probably go back and fix the previous chapters someday.)
In the meantime, I am writing some sporadically-updated EXO fics, if you’re into that, both on LJ and on AFF. And everyone should come hang out with me on Tumblr, because I have entertaining tags, I guess? And if you want to talk about this fic, ask me questions, whatever, you can do so over there! Just drop me an ask. I am totally willing to give out some spoilers and stuff, and the more people get me talking about this fic the more likely I am to update it ^^
Thanks for sticking with me, you guys <3