summerboy for kaihanbitches
Title: Summerboy
For: kaihanbitches
Pairing: Junmyeon/Chen
Rating: R
Length: ~5900
Summary: King-to-be Junmyeon finds a mute boy in a forest by his family’s estate. Will he prove to be more than just a mysterious stranger?
Warnings: mild violence/blood, super dramatic prose
Not even the stable boy is there when Junmyeon pads into the stable either late one night or early one morning. Chanyeol is still awake - Junmyeon’s father had always belittled him for being a stallion too stupid to race, but he has proven smart enough to stay awake longer than the other horses in case Junmyeon wants to go for a late ride. They’ve made a habit of it in the past few months or so. Junmyeon likes the quiet, likes going out in only a sweater and some jeans so beat up that if he didn’t hide them his chambermaid would just throw them out. And sleep has not come so easily to him lately; the way his warm bed contrasts with the brisk air helps him sleep when he returns home.
Junmyeon leads Chanyeol out of the gates gently, not wanting to bother with putting a saddle on him. He uses a foot-ladder to climb onto Chanyeol’s broad black back. There are still some lights on in the palace so their way out isn’t difficult. There’s a small forest between the gates of their residence and the city, but the lights from the city pollute the sky enough that Junmyeon won’t need a lantern. He plans on just skirting the edge of the forest and taking a path with no branches overhead that begins near the side of the palace and ends by the back entrance to their gardens.
Chanyeol starts off at a slow trot when Junmyeon digs his heel into his side. The rhythm is relaxing, and Chanyeol knows the path, so Junmyeon closes his eyes and breathes deep. His mind starts to decompress. The king has been ailing as of late, suffering from complications with his respiratory system. Junmyeon and the rest of the royal family know this, and although the king’s advisors have been trying to keep it a secret, they also know that he is expected to die soon. Junmyeon has been frustrated about them excluding him as they start preparing for him, the eldest prince, to take his father’s place. Maybe they figure if his father’s death is a “sudden shock” he can garner the people’s sympathy. Luckily one of their servants, Sehun, is especially close with the second oldest son Kyungsoo, and is sneaky enough to eavesdrop on selected meetings. Thanks to his brother relaying the information to him Junmyeon knows that soon he’ll have to take the throne.
He nudges Chanyeol’s sides a little more sharply and the stallion starts to gallop as they enter the forest, sky above them becoming slightly obscured by trees. Junmyeon knows he isn’t the preferred new ruler. He never has been. He’s always been more interested in books and the outdoors, and while as hobbies those things have made him appealing to the public, inside the palace walls his father cursed him for his introversion. Junmyeon reads often but isn’t particularly intelligent. Kyungsoo is borderline brilliant, and has an active interest in internal and external affairs. He’s handsome but not intimidatingly so; his social graces are lauded while Junmyeon has been told multiple times that his own seem forced. He already has close friends abroad and strong personal connections in banking. Junmyeon has friends, but he often feels like they have no real interest in him outside of politics.
Part of the reason why Junmyeon has had trouble sleeping is how much time he spends trying to catch up to Kyungsoo’s worldly knowledge by reading, studying, trying to come up with opinions and stances on things he doesn’t particularly care about. Kyungsoo has offered to engage him in debates a few times but he only became increasingly frustrated when Junmyeon’s arguments about economics or energy crises were paper-thin. The older knows how his brother feels about him, can see it in his eyes. Junmyeon loves Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo loves him, but he often looks weary from the idea of watching Junmyeon struggle with his nearing position as king. But their family and country will look ridiculous if Kyungsoo bypasses Junmyeon for the throne while Junmyeon is still alive and able, so their advisors toil both with him and among themselves in hopes of making him presentable.
The last stretch of the path is straight, way out visible for hundreds of yards, but still Junmyeon almost misses the shape at the opening to the gardens. His thoughts are only shaken when Chanyeol slows without Junmyeon prompting him. At first he thinks it might be a wolf, which would be strange seeing as he’s rarely seen wolves in their forest. Its fur is too bright to be a deer. The moonlight makes it look spooky and luminescent. As they near it Junmyeon can make out two folded legs, two arms cradling what must be the head, a slim body -
A body with skin, not fur. Junmyeon halts Chanyeol a few yards for the human-like figure slumped at the base of a tree. He dismounts and something like fear boils in his chest. Chanyeol doesn’t seem nervous, and even dogs make Chanyeol nervous, so whatever they have come across shouldn’t be threatening to Junmyeon, but something about the almost translucent skin and the way it remains motionless as he approaches makes Junmyeon’s heart thud in his ears and his palms sweat.
“Are you alright?” He calls out when he is a few feet away and receives no response. The figure is still as he approaches it, soon standing directly overhead. The arms are covering its face but it looks human, a cheekbone and a soft red mouth visible under its thin arms. It’s - he’s - naked, and his ribs are faint outlines along his torso, fading and reappearing. He’s breathing.
Junmyeon’s hand trembles as he reaches out to shake him. “Can you hear me? Are you there?” When he only gets silence, he gently pushes a shoulder and rolls the boy onto his back. He looks young like a boy, his face sharp. His arms flop out to his sides when Joonmyun rearranges him. He doesn’t smell like alcohol and isn’t injured, just filthy from being curled up on the forest floor for who knows how long. His body is thrumming but cold.
With his hands behind the boy’s back, Junmyeon lifts him and he’s even lighter than he looks. Maybe if he was left here, someone else would come looking for him; maybe Junmyeon should just leave him so someone can else can -
The boys eyes flutter, then slowly open. He doesn’t jump or squirm away when he makes eye contact with Junmyeon. His eyes look black in the minimal lighting, and they add to the fragile beauty of his face. Junmyeon feels his throat go dry for a second. He clears it.
“How did you get here?”
The boy opens his cat-like mouth. No sound comes out. His mouth gapes open and shut a few times, puffing gentle exhales onto Junmyeon’s chin. There’s no rasp in his throat; it’s like he never had a voice to begin with. The stranger stops speaking and keeps his gaze steady, not asking for anything but not telling anything either.
“Nod if you can understand me,” Junmyeon tries. He gets a slow but sure nod in response.
“Do you know how you got here?” The boy shakes his head, and shakes his head again when Junmyeon asks if he knows how to get back. He’s mute, Junmyeon reasons, but his hearing and vision seem to be working completely fine. The boy shivers as a gust of wind stirs through the forest and Junmyeon feels goosebumps rise on his skin. Pity swells where fear was inside him;
Junmyeon can’t just leave him here, especially since he apparently can’t remember where he came from. He doesn’t have anywhere to hide weapons. Junmyeon decides it’s unlikely that he has any malicious intent.
“I live nearby. I can bring you home, and give you some clothes, and maybe some food and a bath, but we’re going to figure out where you came from and help you get back, ok?”
His new companion nods and gingerly tries to stand up. He looks confident at first, but his knees buckle and Junmyeon has to catch him from so he doesn’t fall face first into the ground. Another shiver wracks his body, coupled with a few shaky breaths in and out.
“I’ve got you,” Junmyeon soothes, “I can carry you. We’re not too far at all.”
He’s even lighter than he looks, like he’s hollow. His arms sling around Junmyeon’s neck. Junmyeon holds him carefully as not to end up with his hand in the boy’s crotch. With Chanyeol following close behind, they exit the forest and enter the back gate, the boy’s body relaxing and his breaths slowing in Junmyeon’s arms.
*
“Well, what can we do with him?”
Junmyeon is standing in the office of one of his father’s advisors, Yifan. Next to him is Sungmin, the head servant. He’d been the one to first see Junmyeon carrying the boy and had drawn him a bath at his request. The stranger had washed himself without using the soap they provided for him, wrinkling his nose when he smelled the artificial roses. Sungmin asked the same questions Junmyeon did plus a few more, and received the same nonverbal answers. He didn’t press Junmyeon much, just found a plain spare robe to dress their guest in and led him to an extra bed in the servants quarters. The boy didn’t seem bothered as they watched him curl up under the blanket. Sehun had agreed to keep an eye on him while Sungmin and Junmyeon went to discuss the matter with the first advisor they could find.
“It’s like he has amnesia. I brought him a map and asked him to point to where he came from, and all he did was turn it over and over until he looked at me and gave up. I asked if he was registered as working anywhere and he shook his head.”
Yifan shifts in his chair and peers at Sungmin. “Give him a pen and see if he’s literate.”
“He’s not,” Sungmin replies solemnly. “He can’t read or write, or at least he’s really good at pretending he can’t. I asked him to write his name and this is what he gave me.”
Sungmin slides a piece of paper to Wufan over the desk. It’s a drawing; the lines are so thin and light they don’t look like they were made with pen. When he first watched the boy draw it Junmyeon couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be, but Sungmin pointed out that it was a tree, drawn from an angle that suggested the artist was in the branches.
“Maybe he’s homeless,” Yifan tosses the paper aside, “maybe someone abandoned him here on purpose. He can’t be older than 18 or 19, right? I could sell him to Tao if he doesn’t talk.”
Anger lights in Junmyeon. Tao runs a brothel in the bowels of the city, but his childhood friendship with Yifan helps keep it from being busted up by the police. Searching for an alternative, Junmyeon turns to Sungmin.
“Can you use him for anything? He’s extra hands, he doesn’t seem particularly disturbed, maybe he can be a chambermaid’s assistant or something. I know you had to dismiss Baekhyun; maybe he can take his place.”
Sungmin raises his eyebrows at this and turns to Yifan, who leans forward and puts his elbows on his desk.
“Actually,” he muses, “maybe you didn’t hear, Junmyeon, but Sehun is being reassigned to Baekhyun’s old position. We have reason to believe that he wasn’t keeping private matters between advisors private.” Junmyeon swallows a flush of shame. “Your mute boy might make a good replacement. It would mean you couldn’t teach him to read and write, of course, so classified talks don’t leave our meetings, but he’d have food and clothes and a bed.”
Junmyeon likes this proposal, and it looks like Sungmin does too. Yifan senses they’re all in agreement and stands, gesturing towards the door.
“We’ll get his opinion on the matter tomorrow, then. But,” he lowers his voice, “if he doesn’t agree to the position, he can’t stay here. We’ll have to drop him off somewhere, understand?”
Junmyeon agrees. He doesn’t think the boy will turn down their offer, though, seeing as he might not have anywhere else to go.
“Talk to him tomorrow morning,” Yifan advises as he ushers them out the door. “And you should probably come up with a name for him, too.”
*
By the time Junmyeon wakes the next morning, Sungmin has already named the new advisor’s servant. “Chen,” he says confidently and smiles when Chen expectantly looks up. They’re on a small porch on an upper level of the castle, hanging up clothes to dry in the sun. He’s dressed in the black uniform that all palace servants wear. It makes the clearness of his skin stand out and his eyes pop, and Junmyeon stares at him until he realizes Sungmin is still talking to him.
“As per usual,” he’s saying, “he just nodded when I asked him if he wanted the position, even before I explained everything. He’s learning fast. Still doesn’t talk, though. And he has this weird aversion to meat; there was some pork at breakfast this morning and he wouldn’t touch it, acted like he couldn’t stand the smell of it.”
Junmyeon tilts his head and watches Chen gently meddle with various items of clothing. “Is he eating, though?”
“He eats a lot of fruit. He had some bread, but ate a lot of berries.”
After Junmyeon leaves them, and as he goes about his day, he finds himself becoming distracted with thinking about Chen. He wonders what he’s doing, and how he’s adjusting, and if he’s terribly bored at advisors gatherings, and if he misses wherever he came from. Kyungsoo calls him out on it when he’s trying to pick an argument with Junmyeon about their kingdom’s relations with neighboring nations.
“You seem pensive,” he says unaccusingly in his low, calming voice. “But you’re not thinking about what I’m asking you to think about. Is it about that boy you found? I’m sure Sungmin is taking excellent care of him.”
“I know,” Junmyeon hums, but he still wishes he didn’t have to invent an answer.
He debates with Kyungsoo, and walks around the gardens for a bit before dinner, then retires to his bedroom to force another hundred pages on the history of economics down his throat. He’s just about to doze off, curled up in bed with a particularly dry volume, when there’s a small knock on his door.
“Come in,” he says without looking up.
The door opens, and when no one announces their name his heart twists a little and he looks up. Chen is stepping into the room, stealthily quiet as he shuts the door behind himself. He smiles shyly at Junmyeon and stays against the closed door, looking not quite directly at his face.
“You can come sit with me,” Junmyeon says warmly, patting a spot on the bed next to him. Chen folds himself by his side. “Was your first day alright?”
From his questions and Chen’s body language Junmyeon gleans that yes, Chen likes his job; no, Sungmin isn’t too mean; yes, he’s done with chores for today; no, he still doesn’t remember where he came from or how he ended up at the mouth of the woods. When Junmyeon runs out of questions he doesn’t tell Chen to leave, so they keep each other company, Chen curled up and breathing gently next to him. It makes him even more unable to focus on his reading but having Chen there is pleasant, and Junmyeon feels regretful when he yawns and Chen slides off the bed.
That night Junmyeon dreams of wandering through a forest as it shifts around him and the sunlight becoming brighter and brighter until it all goes white.
*
A week passes, then another. The king’s health is gradually declining and Junmyeon is getting more and more looks from various advisors. Kyungsoo continues his efforts in trying to help Junmyeon prepare but the latter can tell his brother is only becoming wearier and wearier. Junmyeon tries to spend more time reading, and his time reading is usually accompanied by Chen. They start to fall into a habit of Chen knocking on his door every night and quietly keeping Junmyeon company. There’s something relaxing about having a companion that doesn’t demand conversation. Junmyeon asks him about his day and Chen listens and enthusiastically as he can to what the former wants to tell him, but they always fall into a comfortable silence as Junmyeon reads and Chen dozes.
Almost two weeks after Chen’s arrival, Junmyeon’s stacking and unstacking his books when someone knocks frantically on his bedroom door. He doesn’t expect it to be Chen because the boy is always so gentle, but it’s Chen who bursts in a few seconds later. His normally serene eyes are wild and his mouth is open like he’s breathing hard.
Starting off the bed, Junmyeon’s flooded with worry. “What’s wrong?” he starts to ask, but Chen is pulling him from his room so fast he almost doesn’t have time to slide shoes on. He notices that Chen is carrying some blankets as they peel down the hall and down the stairs, sneaking out a side servant entrance. Junmyeon can’t ask questions and breathe hard enough to keep up at the same time, so he takes note of where Chen’s leading him as they cut through the gardens and enter the forest, past the spot where he first found Chen. They only stay on the path for a few yards and then Chen’s veering off into the foliage with only a glance behind him to confirm that Junmyeon is still there.
They go crashing over moss and fallen trees and underbrush; it’s beautiful, the dusky sky tingeing the leaves a deeper green than they are during the day. Junmyeon has never been this deep into the forest and wishes he could go slow and appreciate all the new nature around him but Chen is pulling him deeper and deeper.
Junmyeon’s not sure how long they’ve been running when Chen starts to slow down like he’s looking for something. They never backtrack their steps, but make several turns and eventually climb over a fallen oak and into a clearing. The perimeter is thick with enormous trees but their leaves don’t convene overhead and moonlight pours in from above. The area is blanket with lots of soft-looking grass, on which Chen hurriedly lays one of the blankets. He stretches out on it, catching his breath, then beckons Junmyeon to lie next to him. Once he’s there, Chen fans out the other blanket and covers them both with it. He attaches himself to Junmyeon’s chest and while he doesn’t say anything Junmyeon can feel how his body is tense and taut with fear.
“Chen,” he pants, cradling the other’s body. “Chen, I have to know what’s wrong. They’re going to come looking for us, do you understand? They’re going to wonder why you brought me out here. And if you can’t answer me, then I can’t help you answer them, and they might make you live in the dungeon. We can stay out here for a bit but we have to go back in soon, ok?”
He feels Chen nod, his hair tickling the underside of Junmyeon’s chin. Junmyeon pushes aside his confusion and secures his hold around Chen’s waist. The grass feels soft under the blanket, and the sound the wind makes as it rustles it is soothing. Junmyeon notices that there aren’t even bugs near them. It’s like only Chen knows this place even exists. The air smells floral, mixed with that pungent smell nature has just after it rains, although the ground isn’t wet.
Chen is warm against his chest and there’s that thrum, that buzz of energy that Junmyeon felt when he first found him crumpled on the ground. He doesn’t realize he’s looking at him until Chen tilts his head up to make eye contact. There’s not a lot of light but his eyes are shining. His gaze flicks downward, then he nuzzles forward -
He kisses Junmyeon so softly it almost tickles, just a slight sucking on his bottom lip before Chen pulls back. He cups Junmyeon’s jaw with one hand and leans in again for another kiss. This one is stronger, takes his whole mouth, Chen’s lips more plush and persistent and wet. Junmyeon kisses back this time. Chen tastes sweet and a little floral, and soon after Junmyeon starts kissing him back Chen’s nimble little tongue is flicking into his mouth, as gentle as he is. Junmyeon will admit that he took the kiss further, pulling Chen more tightly against him, eliciting a tiny gasp from his throat. He slowly palms down the curve of Chen’s back to pat and squeeze his ass. The noise Chen hums into his mouth makes Junmyeon’s cock twitch, and he pulls back, almost struck breathless by Chen’s pink cheeks and heavy eyelids.
“You really want this, right?” Junmyeon murmurs. Chen rolls slightly away from him but looks aroused, and he’s confused until Chen undoes the belt holding together his sleeping robe. He was naked when Junmyeon found him, but watching the black slide off his gorgeous shoulders and pretty legs is an entirely new experience. And this time Chen is hard, his cock flushed pink and curving up towards his stomach, and it’s almost obscene in contrast to the silent, sweet Chen that Junmyeon is used to. It makes him so hard it hurts, and Chen pulls Junmyeon to him.
When they’re both fully disrobed they grind together, Chen’s body hot and trembling as he rubs his cock on Junmyeon’s thigh. The latter gets lost in the scent and feel of the body above him and every harsh breath in his ear brings Junmyeon closer and closer.
Chen’s grinding speeds up and they dig their nails into each other as his body starts to buck beyond his control. Junmyeon moans incoherently in his ear, runs his hands up and down Chen’s sides and watches as Chen’s eyes roll back. He mouths Junmyeon’s name when his body jerks and he lets go, coating Junmyeon’s thigh with his cum, wave after wave. The latter comes soon after with his nails digging into Chen’s soft hips and his cum all over Chen’s stomach.
They separate as they cool off and calm down and satiety seeps into Junmyeon’s entire body. When Chen joins him again that feeling of pent up energy is back, like the pleasure has renewed him. He doesn’t feel terrified anymore, his body relaxed in Junmyeon’s arms.
“I want to talk to you,” Junmyeon sighs, his words half thought-out. “I want to hear you, Chen, it’s not your fault, I know, but I want you to know that I think about it a lot - how sweet your voice would be, and what you’d say and what you wouldn’t say.”
Chen nibbles on his jaw in some sort of comforting gesture. Tiredness is blurring Junmyeon’s thoughts, but he doesn’t want to sleep, wants to talk to Chen until he passes out.
“I’m desperate to know your name. You must have one. Maybe I can guess it,” he babbles under his breath, rocking Chen back and forth. The rustling of the grass that his movement causes is the only sound besides their breathing.
“Is it Jimin?” He feels Chen shake his head. “Wonshik? Minseok? Jongin?”
Chen’s body stiffens at the last one. He makes Junmyeon look at him, looks him straight in the eyes, and holds up his fingers, moving them together in a sort of tightening motion.
“Is that it?” No. “Is that partly it? Is ‘Jong’ part of your name?” Chen nods his head violently and Junmyeon thinks he can feel his heart rate speed up.
“So, Jong-something.” He’s not tired anymore. Chen’s excitement is contagious. “Jongwoon. Jongup. Jonghyun. Jongwook. Jongjin.” No, no, no, no, no.
Junmyeon sucks on his bottom lip. He feel helpless but the fire in Chen’s eyes edges him on.
“Jongdae?”
It hangs in the air for a second and Junmyeon readies another name. Then Chen takes a whooping gasp, a breath so deep his back arches off the ground like he’s going to start floating mid-air. It’s like he can’t exhale and Junmyeon clenches and unclenches his fists, helpless to stop whatever is breaking Chen’s back. He almost works up enough courage to reach out and grab him but at that moment Chen slumps back to the ground, his eyes shut.
Junmyeon’s voice cracks when he tries to speak but Chen’s eyes snap open and render him speechless again. There’s some different about him, more vigor in his face, and Junmyeon wants to ask him about it.
But Chen speaks.
“Yes,” he sighs, his voice a smooth tenor, rich with relief, “yes. Jongdae. Yes.”
*
“I’ve known I had to find you since we were both young,” Jongdae begins. They’re curled up together again with him tapping patterns on Junmyeon’s chest. Junmyeon had initially been shocked but Jongdae had kissed him in gratitude until the shock wore off and they were melting into each other, getting as close as possible under the blanket.
“I’m sure you don’t remember, but once when you were very little, your father must have deemed you old enough to go hunting because he brought you along with a few of his men to hunt bucks in the forest. You must have watched them kill half a dozen. And you were all making your way back, dragging the bodies on a cart or something, your father boasting about killing the one with the widest antlers, and you stopped dead in your tracks. They almost left you behind but your father realized you weren’t by his side and turned around, and you were standing at the base of a tree.”
As Jongdae speaks Joonmyun tries to remember. He vaguely recalls it being a cool day, when his father made him wake up early, and he remembers hating the sound of gunshots. He still does.
“You were in front of this tree because you saw something white lying in the dirt. It was a baby bird that tried to fly but couldn’t quite get off the ground. It was still alive, but it was struggling. The nest was low and you saw it and you wanted someone to put it back up. But your father told you to just kill it. He said its mother would kill it anyway, he thought he was teaching you mercy - ”
And Junmyeon remembers now. He remembers the fluffy baby bird and how it couldn’t quite right itself on its feet but its wings didn’t look broken. He had read about birds a little, enough to know that a mother bird won’t necessarily kill its youth if a human touches it. Junmyeon can picture the men looking tired and fed up with him as his father tried to convince him to crush the bird.
“He offered to do it for me.” Jongdae hums in agreement as Junmyeon continues. “He put his boot over it and I screamed and threw a fit and told him to leave it be. I tried to push his leg away and he stumbled, and swore at me, and grabbed my air and started dragging me home. But before we were too far from the tree I heard something rustle and when I looked back, the bird was gone. I never figured out what happened to it,” he finishes with a murmur, his nose in Jongdae’s hair.
Jongdae clings tighter. “I’d been following you on the way back. I told myself that if your father and his men harmed anything else in the forest, I would interfere somehow, and when he wanted to crush the bird I almost leapt down to claw his eyes out. But you made him storm off and I had time to snatch the bird and put it back. You almost saw me,” Jongdae laughs a little, “but you didn’t say anything. And from that day on you fascinated me. I had never seen a human have compassion like that, not even a child.
“You call us fairies. I was born in these woods, and I’ve always lived here. My family has been here for ages and ages, farther back than we have recorded. When I told them I wanted to meet with you they forbade it, of course; we’ve seen what humans do once they’re aware of another species and we have lived without such a disturbance for so long, they didn’t want me to chance it.
“But I have friends that practice magic, and they came up with a bargaining spell: I can be something else for a month at most, but there has to be some hindrance to my communication with the species I become, so I can’t just run away, you know? I gave them my voice, and they cast the spell so that if someone guesses my name, I’ll have proven that I deserve to be with them, and I’ll get my voice back. And you did it,” Jongdae hums, glowing with happiness.
“I took you with me because I overheard Yifan and some of the others. It was outside of a meeting; I never trusted Yifan and I heard him inside his office. They were talking about killing you. Poison in your food, I think, was what they decided. I ran before they came to a conclusion. I thought maybe if I could just get you alone, get you out of there, I could lead you to guess it. Or just keep you from dying.”
Junmyeon is overwhelmed; his head is swimming with surprise and anger and fear and mostly something strong. It doesn’t feel like how he thought love would. He’s sure love is a part of it, but there’s something like trust but more deeply rooted, more final and absolute, like he’s finally discovering a great truth.
“So what do I do now,” he mutters, head murky with physical and emotional exhaustion. Jongdae kisses him again like he’s sealing a deal.
“Sleep, and tomorrow you can decide to stay or go.”
It sounds simple, but Junmyeon is far too exhausted to make a choice now. He drifts off with Jongdae solid in his arms and sleeps more soundly than he has in months.
*
A sharp pain in his lower back wakes Junmyeon. He rolls away from it groggily, first thinking it might just be Kyungsoo waking him up to talk about some dry thing or the other. But what happened the night before starts flooding back, and he reaches out frantically for Jongdae at the same time his eyes shoot open.
It’s bright and he has to blink wetness from his eyes to see the boots of the man standing before him. Jongdae has rolled out of his arms and it on his feet, still nude, staring the intruder down. It’s Yifan, wrapped in a plain cloak, his hair undone and falling in his face. His horse is nowhere to be seen but Junmyeon does notice the glimmer of metal under his drab clothes.
“Your father sent me,” Yifan drawls as Junmyeon scrambles to cover himself with the blanket. “Chen was missing and we realized you were too. They’re searching the entire grounds, but since Chanyeol is still in his stable they figured you wouldn’t have walked out here. I volunteered to search the area alone. I wasn’t expecting this,” he finishes with half a smile.
Junmyeon feels his face flush red and he turns to search for his clothes when a shimmery noise lights the air and he feels something cold near him. He doesn’t turn his head, just shifts his eyes to the left to see Yifan’s sword, drawn and level with his throat.
“I didn’t expect to find you with your throat slit and your body gutted. Nor did I expect to find Chen dead next to you with a dagger lodged in his heart. We’ll guess that he was more unstable than we noted at first, dragging you out into the woods and having you before killing both you and himself. Maybe you and your father will have a joint funeral. I wonder if he’ll be able to handle the shock. Kyungsoo will suffer emotionally, but he can still lead. He’s always been strong like that.” Yifan angles his sword and lines it up so a flick of his wrist will sever Junmyeon’s jugular. “He’s always been stronger than you. The kingdom with prosper, though you will be sorely missed.”
Junmyeon is frozen. He feels like he’s choking, bile or tears or something rising in his throat, and he wants to scream, and he wants to cry out for Jongdae to run - there’s a burst of movement next to him and he prays it’s Jongdae getting out of -
The presence of metal at his neck is gone at the same moment he hears Yifan howl. Something lands solidly at his knees. It’s the sword; he looks up towards Yifan and watches Jongdae land solidly on his feet. One of his hands is shiny with blood. Jongdae flashes backwards and grabs the sword, brandishes it at Yifan - Yifan, who has deep scratch marks crisscrossing his chest and stomach. As Junmyeon watches, their attacker lunges forward and Jongdae brings his hand back down over Yifan’s face. The knuckles on his other hand turn white around the swords handle. Yifan is clutching his face and breathing harshly through his teeth. He falls to his knees and Jongdae mimics how Yifan was holding the sword to Junmyeon’s throat, the tip pressed under his chin. Half of Yifan’s face is gushing blood.
“Leave us,” Jongdae spits, and Junmyeon feels like their surroundings respond, encroaching around them. “Stand up slowly and walk away right now, and if you turn back before you disappear from my sight, I’ll cut your body into pieces by the pound and put each one in a different tree.”
Fury is present in every inch of Yifan’s body as he rises slowly at the tip of his own sword. “Turn around and start walking,” Jongdae leans forward and some kind of buzzing fills Junmyeon’s ears like everything around them is itching to kill Yifan. The man turns on his heel and stalks out slowly, not even pretending to turn to make Jongdae flinch. They watch him disappear among the branches and the sword is laid gently on the ground. Jongdae is suddenly at his side, gripping Junmyeon’s shoulder.
“It’s your choice, you know, if you want to live with me or die here, but I must advise you to come with me. You’ll assimilate quickly, I promise. I promise on my life that you’ll escape this if you - ”
“I’ll go,” Junmyeon blurts. He knows he has no other choice, and Jongdae can protect him, and he’s certain that he knew the answer before Yifan showed up. Maybe he knew before Jongdae asked, maybe he knew before he guessed the boy’s name.
Jongdae’s hand is warm and firm when Junmyeon casts off the blanket and stands to take it. He leads Junmyeon out of the clearing into the thickness of the forest and Junmyeon decides he doesn’t know when his fate was first sealed with Jongdae, but he can’t imagine it being any other way.
For: kaihanbitches
Pairing: Junmyeon/Chen
Rating: R
Length: ~5900
Summary: King-to-be Junmyeon finds a mute boy in a forest by his family’s estate. Will he prove to be more than just a mysterious stranger?
Warnings: mild violence/blood, super dramatic prose
Not even the stable boy is there when Junmyeon pads into the stable either late one night or early one morning. Chanyeol is still awake - Junmyeon’s father had always belittled him for being a stallion too stupid to race, but he has proven smart enough to stay awake longer than the other horses in case Junmyeon wants to go for a late ride. They’ve made a habit of it in the past few months or so. Junmyeon likes the quiet, likes going out in only a sweater and some jeans so beat up that if he didn’t hide them his chambermaid would just throw them out. And sleep has not come so easily to him lately; the way his warm bed contrasts with the brisk air helps him sleep when he returns home.
Junmyeon leads Chanyeol out of the gates gently, not wanting to bother with putting a saddle on him. He uses a foot-ladder to climb onto Chanyeol’s broad black back. There are still some lights on in the palace so their way out isn’t difficult. There’s a small forest between the gates of their residence and the city, but the lights from the city pollute the sky enough that Junmyeon won’t need a lantern. He plans on just skirting the edge of the forest and taking a path with no branches overhead that begins near the side of the palace and ends by the back entrance to their gardens.
Chanyeol starts off at a slow trot when Junmyeon digs his heel into his side. The rhythm is relaxing, and Chanyeol knows the path, so Junmyeon closes his eyes and breathes deep. His mind starts to decompress. The king has been ailing as of late, suffering from complications with his respiratory system. Junmyeon and the rest of the royal family know this, and although the king’s advisors have been trying to keep it a secret, they also know that he is expected to die soon. Junmyeon has been frustrated about them excluding him as they start preparing for him, the eldest prince, to take his father’s place. Maybe they figure if his father’s death is a “sudden shock” he can garner the people’s sympathy. Luckily one of their servants, Sehun, is especially close with the second oldest son Kyungsoo, and is sneaky enough to eavesdrop on selected meetings. Thanks to his brother relaying the information to him Junmyeon knows that soon he’ll have to take the throne.
He nudges Chanyeol’s sides a little more sharply and the stallion starts to gallop as they enter the forest, sky above them becoming slightly obscured by trees. Junmyeon knows he isn’t the preferred new ruler. He never has been. He’s always been more interested in books and the outdoors, and while as hobbies those things have made him appealing to the public, inside the palace walls his father cursed him for his introversion. Junmyeon reads often but isn’t particularly intelligent. Kyungsoo is borderline brilliant, and has an active interest in internal and external affairs. He’s handsome but not intimidatingly so; his social graces are lauded while Junmyeon has been told multiple times that his own seem forced. He already has close friends abroad and strong personal connections in banking. Junmyeon has friends, but he often feels like they have no real interest in him outside of politics.
Part of the reason why Junmyeon has had trouble sleeping is how much time he spends trying to catch up to Kyungsoo’s worldly knowledge by reading, studying, trying to come up with opinions and stances on things he doesn’t particularly care about. Kyungsoo has offered to engage him in debates a few times but he only became increasingly frustrated when Junmyeon’s arguments about economics or energy crises were paper-thin. The older knows how his brother feels about him, can see it in his eyes. Junmyeon loves Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo loves him, but he often looks weary from the idea of watching Junmyeon struggle with his nearing position as king. But their family and country will look ridiculous if Kyungsoo bypasses Junmyeon for the throne while Junmyeon is still alive and able, so their advisors toil both with him and among themselves in hopes of making him presentable.
The last stretch of the path is straight, way out visible for hundreds of yards, but still Junmyeon almost misses the shape at the opening to the gardens. His thoughts are only shaken when Chanyeol slows without Junmyeon prompting him. At first he thinks it might be a wolf, which would be strange seeing as he’s rarely seen wolves in their forest. Its fur is too bright to be a deer. The moonlight makes it look spooky and luminescent. As they near it Junmyeon can make out two folded legs, two arms cradling what must be the head, a slim body -
A body with skin, not fur. Junmyeon halts Chanyeol a few yards for the human-like figure slumped at the base of a tree. He dismounts and something like fear boils in his chest. Chanyeol doesn’t seem nervous, and even dogs make Chanyeol nervous, so whatever they have come across shouldn’t be threatening to Junmyeon, but something about the almost translucent skin and the way it remains motionless as he approaches makes Junmyeon’s heart thud in his ears and his palms sweat.
“Are you alright?” He calls out when he is a few feet away and receives no response. The figure is still as he approaches it, soon standing directly overhead. The arms are covering its face but it looks human, a cheekbone and a soft red mouth visible under its thin arms. It’s - he’s - naked, and his ribs are faint outlines along his torso, fading and reappearing. He’s breathing.
Junmyeon’s hand trembles as he reaches out to shake him. “Can you hear me? Are you there?” When he only gets silence, he gently pushes a shoulder and rolls the boy onto his back. He looks young like a boy, his face sharp. His arms flop out to his sides when Joonmyun rearranges him. He doesn’t smell like alcohol and isn’t injured, just filthy from being curled up on the forest floor for who knows how long. His body is thrumming but cold.
With his hands behind the boy’s back, Junmyeon lifts him and he’s even lighter than he looks. Maybe if he was left here, someone else would come looking for him; maybe Junmyeon should just leave him so someone can else can -
The boys eyes flutter, then slowly open. He doesn’t jump or squirm away when he makes eye contact with Junmyeon. His eyes look black in the minimal lighting, and they add to the fragile beauty of his face. Junmyeon feels his throat go dry for a second. He clears it.
“How did you get here?”
The boy opens his cat-like mouth. No sound comes out. His mouth gapes open and shut a few times, puffing gentle exhales onto Junmyeon’s chin. There’s no rasp in his throat; it’s like he never had a voice to begin with. The stranger stops speaking and keeps his gaze steady, not asking for anything but not telling anything either.
“Nod if you can understand me,” Junmyeon tries. He gets a slow but sure nod in response.
“Do you know how you got here?” The boy shakes his head, and shakes his head again when Junmyeon asks if he knows how to get back. He’s mute, Junmyeon reasons, but his hearing and vision seem to be working completely fine. The boy shivers as a gust of wind stirs through the forest and Junmyeon feels goosebumps rise on his skin. Pity swells where fear was inside him;
Junmyeon can’t just leave him here, especially since he apparently can’t remember where he came from. He doesn’t have anywhere to hide weapons. Junmyeon decides it’s unlikely that he has any malicious intent.
“I live nearby. I can bring you home, and give you some clothes, and maybe some food and a bath, but we’re going to figure out where you came from and help you get back, ok?”
His new companion nods and gingerly tries to stand up. He looks confident at first, but his knees buckle and Junmyeon has to catch him from so he doesn’t fall face first into the ground. Another shiver wracks his body, coupled with a few shaky breaths in and out.
“I’ve got you,” Junmyeon soothes, “I can carry you. We’re not too far at all.”
He’s even lighter than he looks, like he’s hollow. His arms sling around Junmyeon’s neck. Junmyeon holds him carefully as not to end up with his hand in the boy’s crotch. With Chanyeol following close behind, they exit the forest and enter the back gate, the boy’s body relaxing and his breaths slowing in Junmyeon’s arms.
*
“Well, what can we do with him?”
Junmyeon is standing in the office of one of his father’s advisors, Yifan. Next to him is Sungmin, the head servant. He’d been the one to first see Junmyeon carrying the boy and had drawn him a bath at his request. The stranger had washed himself without using the soap they provided for him, wrinkling his nose when he smelled the artificial roses. Sungmin asked the same questions Junmyeon did plus a few more, and received the same nonverbal answers. He didn’t press Junmyeon much, just found a plain spare robe to dress their guest in and led him to an extra bed in the servants quarters. The boy didn’t seem bothered as they watched him curl up under the blanket. Sehun had agreed to keep an eye on him while Sungmin and Junmyeon went to discuss the matter with the first advisor they could find.
“It’s like he has amnesia. I brought him a map and asked him to point to where he came from, and all he did was turn it over and over until he looked at me and gave up. I asked if he was registered as working anywhere and he shook his head.”
Yifan shifts in his chair and peers at Sungmin. “Give him a pen and see if he’s literate.”
“He’s not,” Sungmin replies solemnly. “He can’t read or write, or at least he’s really good at pretending he can’t. I asked him to write his name and this is what he gave me.”
Sungmin slides a piece of paper to Wufan over the desk. It’s a drawing; the lines are so thin and light they don’t look like they were made with pen. When he first watched the boy draw it Junmyeon couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be, but Sungmin pointed out that it was a tree, drawn from an angle that suggested the artist was in the branches.
“Maybe he’s homeless,” Yifan tosses the paper aside, “maybe someone abandoned him here on purpose. He can’t be older than 18 or 19, right? I could sell him to Tao if he doesn’t talk.”
Anger lights in Junmyeon. Tao runs a brothel in the bowels of the city, but his childhood friendship with Yifan helps keep it from being busted up by the police. Searching for an alternative, Junmyeon turns to Sungmin.
“Can you use him for anything? He’s extra hands, he doesn’t seem particularly disturbed, maybe he can be a chambermaid’s assistant or something. I know you had to dismiss Baekhyun; maybe he can take his place.”
Sungmin raises his eyebrows at this and turns to Yifan, who leans forward and puts his elbows on his desk.
“Actually,” he muses, “maybe you didn’t hear, Junmyeon, but Sehun is being reassigned to Baekhyun’s old position. We have reason to believe that he wasn’t keeping private matters between advisors private.” Junmyeon swallows a flush of shame. “Your mute boy might make a good replacement. It would mean you couldn’t teach him to read and write, of course, so classified talks don’t leave our meetings, but he’d have food and clothes and a bed.”
Junmyeon likes this proposal, and it looks like Sungmin does too. Yifan senses they’re all in agreement and stands, gesturing towards the door.
“We’ll get his opinion on the matter tomorrow, then. But,” he lowers his voice, “if he doesn’t agree to the position, he can’t stay here. We’ll have to drop him off somewhere, understand?”
Junmyeon agrees. He doesn’t think the boy will turn down their offer, though, seeing as he might not have anywhere else to go.
“Talk to him tomorrow morning,” Yifan advises as he ushers them out the door. “And you should probably come up with a name for him, too.”
*
By the time Junmyeon wakes the next morning, Sungmin has already named the new advisor’s servant. “Chen,” he says confidently and smiles when Chen expectantly looks up. They’re on a small porch on an upper level of the castle, hanging up clothes to dry in the sun. He’s dressed in the black uniform that all palace servants wear. It makes the clearness of his skin stand out and his eyes pop, and Junmyeon stares at him until he realizes Sungmin is still talking to him.
“As per usual,” he’s saying, “he just nodded when I asked him if he wanted the position, even before I explained everything. He’s learning fast. Still doesn’t talk, though. And he has this weird aversion to meat; there was some pork at breakfast this morning and he wouldn’t touch it, acted like he couldn’t stand the smell of it.”
Junmyeon tilts his head and watches Chen gently meddle with various items of clothing. “Is he eating, though?”
“He eats a lot of fruit. He had some bread, but ate a lot of berries.”
After Junmyeon leaves them, and as he goes about his day, he finds himself becoming distracted with thinking about Chen. He wonders what he’s doing, and how he’s adjusting, and if he’s terribly bored at advisors gatherings, and if he misses wherever he came from. Kyungsoo calls him out on it when he’s trying to pick an argument with Junmyeon about their kingdom’s relations with neighboring nations.
“You seem pensive,” he says unaccusingly in his low, calming voice. “But you’re not thinking about what I’m asking you to think about. Is it about that boy you found? I’m sure Sungmin is taking excellent care of him.”
“I know,” Junmyeon hums, but he still wishes he didn’t have to invent an answer.
He debates with Kyungsoo, and walks around the gardens for a bit before dinner, then retires to his bedroom to force another hundred pages on the history of economics down his throat. He’s just about to doze off, curled up in bed with a particularly dry volume, when there’s a small knock on his door.
“Come in,” he says without looking up.
The door opens, and when no one announces their name his heart twists a little and he looks up. Chen is stepping into the room, stealthily quiet as he shuts the door behind himself. He smiles shyly at Junmyeon and stays against the closed door, looking not quite directly at his face.
“You can come sit with me,” Junmyeon says warmly, patting a spot on the bed next to him. Chen folds himself by his side. “Was your first day alright?”
From his questions and Chen’s body language Junmyeon gleans that yes, Chen likes his job; no, Sungmin isn’t too mean; yes, he’s done with chores for today; no, he still doesn’t remember where he came from or how he ended up at the mouth of the woods. When Junmyeon runs out of questions he doesn’t tell Chen to leave, so they keep each other company, Chen curled up and breathing gently next to him. It makes him even more unable to focus on his reading but having Chen there is pleasant, and Junmyeon feels regretful when he yawns and Chen slides off the bed.
That night Junmyeon dreams of wandering through a forest as it shifts around him and the sunlight becoming brighter and brighter until it all goes white.
*
A week passes, then another. The king’s health is gradually declining and Junmyeon is getting more and more looks from various advisors. Kyungsoo continues his efforts in trying to help Junmyeon prepare but the latter can tell his brother is only becoming wearier and wearier. Junmyeon tries to spend more time reading, and his time reading is usually accompanied by Chen. They start to fall into a habit of Chen knocking on his door every night and quietly keeping Junmyeon company. There’s something relaxing about having a companion that doesn’t demand conversation. Junmyeon asks him about his day and Chen listens and enthusiastically as he can to what the former wants to tell him, but they always fall into a comfortable silence as Junmyeon reads and Chen dozes.
Almost two weeks after Chen’s arrival, Junmyeon’s stacking and unstacking his books when someone knocks frantically on his bedroom door. He doesn’t expect it to be Chen because the boy is always so gentle, but it’s Chen who bursts in a few seconds later. His normally serene eyes are wild and his mouth is open like he’s breathing hard.
Starting off the bed, Junmyeon’s flooded with worry. “What’s wrong?” he starts to ask, but Chen is pulling him from his room so fast he almost doesn’t have time to slide shoes on. He notices that Chen is carrying some blankets as they peel down the hall and down the stairs, sneaking out a side servant entrance. Junmyeon can’t ask questions and breathe hard enough to keep up at the same time, so he takes note of where Chen’s leading him as they cut through the gardens and enter the forest, past the spot where he first found Chen. They only stay on the path for a few yards and then Chen’s veering off into the foliage with only a glance behind him to confirm that Junmyeon is still there.
They go crashing over moss and fallen trees and underbrush; it’s beautiful, the dusky sky tingeing the leaves a deeper green than they are during the day. Junmyeon has never been this deep into the forest and wishes he could go slow and appreciate all the new nature around him but Chen is pulling him deeper and deeper.
Junmyeon’s not sure how long they’ve been running when Chen starts to slow down like he’s looking for something. They never backtrack their steps, but make several turns and eventually climb over a fallen oak and into a clearing. The perimeter is thick with enormous trees but their leaves don’t convene overhead and moonlight pours in from above. The area is blanket with lots of soft-looking grass, on which Chen hurriedly lays one of the blankets. He stretches out on it, catching his breath, then beckons Junmyeon to lie next to him. Once he’s there, Chen fans out the other blanket and covers them both with it. He attaches himself to Junmyeon’s chest and while he doesn’t say anything Junmyeon can feel how his body is tense and taut with fear.
“Chen,” he pants, cradling the other’s body. “Chen, I have to know what’s wrong. They’re going to come looking for us, do you understand? They’re going to wonder why you brought me out here. And if you can’t answer me, then I can’t help you answer them, and they might make you live in the dungeon. We can stay out here for a bit but we have to go back in soon, ok?”
He feels Chen nod, his hair tickling the underside of Junmyeon’s chin. Junmyeon pushes aside his confusion and secures his hold around Chen’s waist. The grass feels soft under the blanket, and the sound the wind makes as it rustles it is soothing. Junmyeon notices that there aren’t even bugs near them. It’s like only Chen knows this place even exists. The air smells floral, mixed with that pungent smell nature has just after it rains, although the ground isn’t wet.
Chen is warm against his chest and there’s that thrum, that buzz of energy that Junmyeon felt when he first found him crumpled on the ground. He doesn’t realize he’s looking at him until Chen tilts his head up to make eye contact. There’s not a lot of light but his eyes are shining. His gaze flicks downward, then he nuzzles forward -
He kisses Junmyeon so softly it almost tickles, just a slight sucking on his bottom lip before Chen pulls back. He cups Junmyeon’s jaw with one hand and leans in again for another kiss. This one is stronger, takes his whole mouth, Chen’s lips more plush and persistent and wet. Junmyeon kisses back this time. Chen tastes sweet and a little floral, and soon after Junmyeon starts kissing him back Chen’s nimble little tongue is flicking into his mouth, as gentle as he is. Junmyeon will admit that he took the kiss further, pulling Chen more tightly against him, eliciting a tiny gasp from his throat. He slowly palms down the curve of Chen’s back to pat and squeeze his ass. The noise Chen hums into his mouth makes Junmyeon’s cock twitch, and he pulls back, almost struck breathless by Chen’s pink cheeks and heavy eyelids.
“You really want this, right?” Junmyeon murmurs. Chen rolls slightly away from him but looks aroused, and he’s confused until Chen undoes the belt holding together his sleeping robe. He was naked when Junmyeon found him, but watching the black slide off his gorgeous shoulders and pretty legs is an entirely new experience. And this time Chen is hard, his cock flushed pink and curving up towards his stomach, and it’s almost obscene in contrast to the silent, sweet Chen that Junmyeon is used to. It makes him so hard it hurts, and Chen pulls Junmyeon to him.
When they’re both fully disrobed they grind together, Chen’s body hot and trembling as he rubs his cock on Junmyeon’s thigh. The latter gets lost in the scent and feel of the body above him and every harsh breath in his ear brings Junmyeon closer and closer.
Chen’s grinding speeds up and they dig their nails into each other as his body starts to buck beyond his control. Junmyeon moans incoherently in his ear, runs his hands up and down Chen’s sides and watches as Chen’s eyes roll back. He mouths Junmyeon’s name when his body jerks and he lets go, coating Junmyeon’s thigh with his cum, wave after wave. The latter comes soon after with his nails digging into Chen’s soft hips and his cum all over Chen’s stomach.
They separate as they cool off and calm down and satiety seeps into Junmyeon’s entire body. When Chen joins him again that feeling of pent up energy is back, like the pleasure has renewed him. He doesn’t feel terrified anymore, his body relaxed in Junmyeon’s arms.
“I want to talk to you,” Junmyeon sighs, his words half thought-out. “I want to hear you, Chen, it’s not your fault, I know, but I want you to know that I think about it a lot - how sweet your voice would be, and what you’d say and what you wouldn’t say.”
Chen nibbles on his jaw in some sort of comforting gesture. Tiredness is blurring Junmyeon’s thoughts, but he doesn’t want to sleep, wants to talk to Chen until he passes out.
“I’m desperate to know your name. You must have one. Maybe I can guess it,” he babbles under his breath, rocking Chen back and forth. The rustling of the grass that his movement causes is the only sound besides their breathing.
“Is it Jimin?” He feels Chen shake his head. “Wonshik? Minseok? Jongin?”
Chen’s body stiffens at the last one. He makes Junmyeon look at him, looks him straight in the eyes, and holds up his fingers, moving them together in a sort of tightening motion.
“Is that it?” No. “Is that partly it? Is ‘Jong’ part of your name?” Chen nods his head violently and Junmyeon thinks he can feel his heart rate speed up.
“So, Jong-something.” He’s not tired anymore. Chen’s excitement is contagious. “Jongwoon. Jongup. Jonghyun. Jongwook. Jongjin.” No, no, no, no, no.
Junmyeon sucks on his bottom lip. He feel helpless but the fire in Chen’s eyes edges him on.
“Jongdae?”
It hangs in the air for a second and Junmyeon readies another name. Then Chen takes a whooping gasp, a breath so deep his back arches off the ground like he’s going to start floating mid-air. It’s like he can’t exhale and Junmyeon clenches and unclenches his fists, helpless to stop whatever is breaking Chen’s back. He almost works up enough courage to reach out and grab him but at that moment Chen slumps back to the ground, his eyes shut.
Junmyeon’s voice cracks when he tries to speak but Chen’s eyes snap open and render him speechless again. There’s some different about him, more vigor in his face, and Junmyeon wants to ask him about it.
But Chen speaks.
“Yes,” he sighs, his voice a smooth tenor, rich with relief, “yes. Jongdae. Yes.”
*
“I’ve known I had to find you since we were both young,” Jongdae begins. They’re curled up together again with him tapping patterns on Junmyeon’s chest. Junmyeon had initially been shocked but Jongdae had kissed him in gratitude until the shock wore off and they were melting into each other, getting as close as possible under the blanket.
“I’m sure you don’t remember, but once when you were very little, your father must have deemed you old enough to go hunting because he brought you along with a few of his men to hunt bucks in the forest. You must have watched them kill half a dozen. And you were all making your way back, dragging the bodies on a cart or something, your father boasting about killing the one with the widest antlers, and you stopped dead in your tracks. They almost left you behind but your father realized you weren’t by his side and turned around, and you were standing at the base of a tree.”
As Jongdae speaks Joonmyun tries to remember. He vaguely recalls it being a cool day, when his father made him wake up early, and he remembers hating the sound of gunshots. He still does.
“You were in front of this tree because you saw something white lying in the dirt. It was a baby bird that tried to fly but couldn’t quite get off the ground. It was still alive, but it was struggling. The nest was low and you saw it and you wanted someone to put it back up. But your father told you to just kill it. He said its mother would kill it anyway, he thought he was teaching you mercy - ”
And Junmyeon remembers now. He remembers the fluffy baby bird and how it couldn’t quite right itself on its feet but its wings didn’t look broken. He had read about birds a little, enough to know that a mother bird won’t necessarily kill its youth if a human touches it. Junmyeon can picture the men looking tired and fed up with him as his father tried to convince him to crush the bird.
“He offered to do it for me.” Jongdae hums in agreement as Junmyeon continues. “He put his boot over it and I screamed and threw a fit and told him to leave it be. I tried to push his leg away and he stumbled, and swore at me, and grabbed my air and started dragging me home. But before we were too far from the tree I heard something rustle and when I looked back, the bird was gone. I never figured out what happened to it,” he finishes with a murmur, his nose in Jongdae’s hair.
Jongdae clings tighter. “I’d been following you on the way back. I told myself that if your father and his men harmed anything else in the forest, I would interfere somehow, and when he wanted to crush the bird I almost leapt down to claw his eyes out. But you made him storm off and I had time to snatch the bird and put it back. You almost saw me,” Jongdae laughs a little, “but you didn’t say anything. And from that day on you fascinated me. I had never seen a human have compassion like that, not even a child.
“You call us fairies. I was born in these woods, and I’ve always lived here. My family has been here for ages and ages, farther back than we have recorded. When I told them I wanted to meet with you they forbade it, of course; we’ve seen what humans do once they’re aware of another species and we have lived without such a disturbance for so long, they didn’t want me to chance it.
“But I have friends that practice magic, and they came up with a bargaining spell: I can be something else for a month at most, but there has to be some hindrance to my communication with the species I become, so I can’t just run away, you know? I gave them my voice, and they cast the spell so that if someone guesses my name, I’ll have proven that I deserve to be with them, and I’ll get my voice back. And you did it,” Jongdae hums, glowing with happiness.
“I took you with me because I overheard Yifan and some of the others. It was outside of a meeting; I never trusted Yifan and I heard him inside his office. They were talking about killing you. Poison in your food, I think, was what they decided. I ran before they came to a conclusion. I thought maybe if I could just get you alone, get you out of there, I could lead you to guess it. Or just keep you from dying.”
Junmyeon is overwhelmed; his head is swimming with surprise and anger and fear and mostly something strong. It doesn’t feel like how he thought love would. He’s sure love is a part of it, but there’s something like trust but more deeply rooted, more final and absolute, like he’s finally discovering a great truth.
“So what do I do now,” he mutters, head murky with physical and emotional exhaustion. Jongdae kisses him again like he’s sealing a deal.
“Sleep, and tomorrow you can decide to stay or go.”
It sounds simple, but Junmyeon is far too exhausted to make a choice now. He drifts off with Jongdae solid in his arms and sleeps more soundly than he has in months.
*
A sharp pain in his lower back wakes Junmyeon. He rolls away from it groggily, first thinking it might just be Kyungsoo waking him up to talk about some dry thing or the other. But what happened the night before starts flooding back, and he reaches out frantically for Jongdae at the same time his eyes shoot open.
It’s bright and he has to blink wetness from his eyes to see the boots of the man standing before him. Jongdae has rolled out of his arms and it on his feet, still nude, staring the intruder down. It’s Yifan, wrapped in a plain cloak, his hair undone and falling in his face. His horse is nowhere to be seen but Junmyeon does notice the glimmer of metal under his drab clothes.
“Your father sent me,” Yifan drawls as Junmyeon scrambles to cover himself with the blanket. “Chen was missing and we realized you were too. They’re searching the entire grounds, but since Chanyeol is still in his stable they figured you wouldn’t have walked out here. I volunteered to search the area alone. I wasn’t expecting this,” he finishes with half a smile.
Junmyeon feels his face flush red and he turns to search for his clothes when a shimmery noise lights the air and he feels something cold near him. He doesn’t turn his head, just shifts his eyes to the left to see Yifan’s sword, drawn and level with his throat.
“I didn’t expect to find you with your throat slit and your body gutted. Nor did I expect to find Chen dead next to you with a dagger lodged in his heart. We’ll guess that he was more unstable than we noted at first, dragging you out into the woods and having you before killing both you and himself. Maybe you and your father will have a joint funeral. I wonder if he’ll be able to handle the shock. Kyungsoo will suffer emotionally, but he can still lead. He’s always been strong like that.” Yifan angles his sword and lines it up so a flick of his wrist will sever Junmyeon’s jugular. “He’s always been stronger than you. The kingdom with prosper, though you will be sorely missed.”
Junmyeon is frozen. He feels like he’s choking, bile or tears or something rising in his throat, and he wants to scream, and he wants to cry out for Jongdae to run - there’s a burst of movement next to him and he prays it’s Jongdae getting out of -
The presence of metal at his neck is gone at the same moment he hears Yifan howl. Something lands solidly at his knees. It’s the sword; he looks up towards Yifan and watches Jongdae land solidly on his feet. One of his hands is shiny with blood. Jongdae flashes backwards and grabs the sword, brandishes it at Yifan - Yifan, who has deep scratch marks crisscrossing his chest and stomach. As Junmyeon watches, their attacker lunges forward and Jongdae brings his hand back down over Yifan’s face. The knuckles on his other hand turn white around the swords handle. Yifan is clutching his face and breathing harshly through his teeth. He falls to his knees and Jongdae mimics how Yifan was holding the sword to Junmyeon’s throat, the tip pressed under his chin. Half of Yifan’s face is gushing blood.
“Leave us,” Jongdae spits, and Junmyeon feels like their surroundings respond, encroaching around them. “Stand up slowly and walk away right now, and if you turn back before you disappear from my sight, I’ll cut your body into pieces by the pound and put each one in a different tree.”
Fury is present in every inch of Yifan’s body as he rises slowly at the tip of his own sword. “Turn around and start walking,” Jongdae leans forward and some kind of buzzing fills Junmyeon’s ears like everything around them is itching to kill Yifan. The man turns on his heel and stalks out slowly, not even pretending to turn to make Jongdae flinch. They watch him disappear among the branches and the sword is laid gently on the ground. Jongdae is suddenly at his side, gripping Junmyeon’s shoulder.
“It’s your choice, you know, if you want to live with me or die here, but I must advise you to come with me. You’ll assimilate quickly, I promise. I promise on my life that you’ll escape this if you - ”
“I’ll go,” Junmyeon blurts. He knows he has no other choice, and Jongdae can protect him, and he’s certain that he knew the answer before Yifan showed up. Maybe he knew before Jongdae asked, maybe he knew before he guessed the boy’s name.
Jongdae’s hand is warm and firm when Junmyeon casts off the blanket and stands to take it. He leads Junmyeon out of the clearing into the thickness of the forest and Junmyeon decides he doesn’t know when his fate was first sealed with Jongdae, but he can’t imagine it being any other way.