Porcelain { Four }
Title: Porcelain
Rating: NC-17/R
Pairing: SeKai + SuChen
Summary: The year is 1913. Kim Jongin and Kim Jongdae are footmen for Foxcombe House, owned by the Wu family who migrated to England following the success of Kristopher Wu's business in both Shanghai and London. He and his heiress wife, Jessica, now own the estate much to the distaste of the locals. A certain runaway from Seoul appears on the doorstep and suddenly the Kim brothers' lives are turned inside-out, destined to end in ruin.
Inspired by the era of Downton Abbey and a certain old manor in Sussex, England, with an eerie story to tell.
{ PROLOGUE } { ONE } { TWO } { THREE }
Chapter Four
Everything was hazy. Very hazy.
Smoke curled up the walls as steel fingers clawing against the wallpaper. It pricked the back of his throat as he sucked in harsh breaths, desperate for oxygen, making him cough and splutter. His eyes stung from the smog. Heat thrummed in the poisoned air. There wasn’t a hand free to cover his mouth and protect his lungs because his fists were too busy being relentlessly thrown against the door in front of him. He was shouting, too - shouting and screaming over the crackling flames, punching the wood with his palms until it bruised his skin and tugging with all his might on the door knob that barely twisted.
It was getting hotter…
It was getting hazier…
“Sehun? Are you…alright?”
Sehun snapped out of his daze to the sight of Jongdae peering apprehensively at his face, a single eyebrow raised.
He quickly bobbed his head. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”
He tried to focus with blurry sight at what lay before him. It was a row of wine bottles, each looking relatively similar to the next with indistinguishable calligraphy scrolled along the front in English - or was it French? - he couldn’t tell for sure. Either way, he had no idea what he was doing.
His hands lingered in the air for a while, plucking at nothing, until Jongdae stepped forward.
“You’ll want this one, on the far right.” Jongdae leant over and bent his fingers around the neck of the bottle, lifting it up to cup under its base. “His Lordship only ever has a dry, bitter wine with his beef.”
Ah, yes. It was dinner. Sehun was serving dinner.
He accepted it gratefully. “Dry and bitter with beef. Right. Thanks.”
Sehun flashed him a shy smile and turned to leave. The number of words the two of them had exchanged since he had started working at Foxcombe could be counted on one hand and he didn’t need the heavy, awkward air to make him feel any more anxious. Jongdae’s curious eyes pierced the back of his head.
Once he’d rounded the corner, Sehun used a shaking hand to prop himself against the wall and breathe deeply, relaxing his chest. The dreams were becoming more frequent now, more realistic. Worst of all, they were beginning to plague him during his waking hours. He could almost taste the smoke lingering on his tongue and smell the panic reeking off his skin. But those hands…had they been his? He looked down at his own, flipping them over and back again. He didn’t know. The lines weren’t quite sharp enough to make them out.
Yet.
Kristopher settled himself in his usual seat at the head of the dining table, folding a newspaper and placing it to his side. An array of dishes followed his main meal with a delectable choice of various sides and vegetables to accompany the glistening meat. He licked his lips with satisfaction and Sehun’s stomach growled at the paradise he couldn’t touch.
Joonmyun entered and Kris turned his head slightly to the side in order to speak to him.
“Have we received confirmation of Soojung’s visit?”
The butler nodded. “Yes, sir. Her reply arrived this morning.”
“And the date we’re to be expecting their arrival?”
“The 17th, sir.”
“Excellent. That gives us ample time to prepare the house for company.” Kris looked down the table and across to the door expectantly. “Where’s Jessica? Is she not dining this evening?”
“Her Ladyship has requested dinner to be served in her own quarters. For the time being,” Joonmyun explained regretfully, hanging his head slightly.
“Oh. I understand,” said Kris, although the disappointment in his voice was hard to miss. He merely sighed at his plate and began to eat.
The kingdom was beginning to look awfully small with a lone king sat at its throne.
♦♦♦
“How are you getting on? With working here at Foxcombe, I mean.”
It was Jongdae’s first attempt at instigating conversation with the new footman, just as he’d promised his brother, who wasn’t so shiny any longer. Maids and cooks bustled around them in the busy kitchen to clear up after dinner and some were settling at the table to eat their own, laughing and jeering and happily scoffing their faces with the leftovers. He and Sehun stacked the unwashed plates by the sink.
“Fine, thank you.”
He was a boy of very few words, that much was true. The only time anyone saw his lips move was when Jongin was at his side, and the thought of this sent a spasm through Jongdae’s stomach, but he ignored it. He’d almost given up hope with bonding with the young footman until the promise of an actual conversation bloomed from the boy’s lips.
“I don’t think Her Ladyship likes me very much.”
Jongdae let out a dry chuckle. “I wouldn’t take it personally. She’s like that with everyone.”
Sehun’s thin lips parted with surprise.
“You seem shocked,” Jongdae continued. “Has Jongin not told you the story of the Wu family?”
He shook his head shyly. “I haven’t asked. I didn’t want to push my luck with things so early.”
“Smart boy.” Jongdae pulled a stool forward from the table and settled himself on top. “Maybe it’s time someone enlightened you since you’re practically a part of the furniture now.”
He could almost see Sehun’s spirit rise and ears prick with interest as the boy mirrored his movements and grabbed a chair for himself to sit on. Their heads bent closer together.
“Her Ladyship hates it here and always has done, ever since we arrived,” began Jongdae, eyes darting around the noisy kitchen to ensure nobody was taking much notice of them. “As a result her unfavourable expression has become something of a habit. That’s what being in a place like this does to a person.”
“A ‘place like this’? Do you not like it here either?” asked Sehun in a small voice.
“I am here out of necessity, and for Jongin. Nothing more.”
The statement took the younger aback but he didn’t lean away. “Why is Her Ladyship here if she hates it so much?”
“She will follow wherever her husband goes, of course. His Lordship’s family business brought him to England and, therefore, the Wu household along with him.” Jongdae lowered his voice further so it barely rumbled above the bustle. “I think the miscarriages were the last straw, however.”
Sehun’s eyes widened. “Miscarriages?”
“It’s common knowledge among the staff…but breathe a single word to anyone else and you’ll have a lot to answer for.” When the boy nodded in understanding, he continued. “The efforts to produce an heir to the estate have, so far, been foiled. Perhaps it was the stress of moving so far away from her home, perhaps something else - but Her Ladyship has yet to have a successful pregnancy. Until then…I fear she won’t become any kinder.”
Sehun was quiet for a few moments. “It’s understandable, I suppose.”
Jongdae agreed. “Indeed. Quite understandable.”
♦♦♦
Something sparked within the walls of Foxcombe House that night, and Kristopher felt it deep within his bones.
A full moon rose over the South Downs, a pale orb suspended on a black canvas, and shone brightly through the darkened windows of the library. Kris unhooked the latch of the cabinet and reached forward for the tall vase near the back. He cradled it in his palms, turning its smooth surface over and over again to appreciate his best handiwork. It had taken painstaking hours to paint the scales with such precision and he smiled at the memory. A red dragon; the beast of legends and the symbol of his family’s success. There were tales of dragons in England, but they were not the same dragons. Their dragons were foul fire-breathers with thick legs that destroyed cities with a single breath and were slain by brave knights; nothing like the wise, majestic creatures with bodies that flowed like water in Chinese fables. Suddenly a little home-sick, he settled the vase back in its place with a sigh and made to leave.
Wandering across the entrance hall and making his way to the grand staircase, Kris caught sight of Joonmyun turning off the lights on his way to bed, most likely.
“Goodnight, Mr Kim,” he said with a nod of his head.
“Sleep well, sir.”
It was late and his limbs were heavy and in the confines of his room he sparked a few candles into life and began removing his jacket. He’d installed electricity to most of the House but still enjoyed the cosy, flickering flames over harsh bulbs. Jessica often laughed at his traditional ways but it didn’t bother him. If anything, he enjoyed the pleasure it gave his wife to mock him affectionately.
He was unbuttoning his shirt when the door creaked open. Kris swung around and there, closing the door behind her, stood his heart’s other half wrapped in thin, silk robe. She didn’t say anything, only stood in one spot, staring back at him with hair that cascaded down her body in loose curls. After a minute or so, she tugged at the tie around her waist and the robe fell to the floor in shining waves, revealing the glory that was her naked flesh in a delicate, warm glow.
His mouth dried considerably and for a moment he was sure he couldn’t speak but Kris eventually managed to croak:
“Jessica, wha-?”
“I want to try again. I’m ready,” she cut in. “I need you, Kris.” Her vulnerable gaze shone through a pair of doe eyes that danced in the firelight.
He didn’t need telling twice.
Within two strides he was there; cupping her beautiful face in his hands and placing eager lips onto her own. The kiss was as gentle and loving as the sun rising in June until Jessica’s hidden hunger pressed him harder against her body and his hands fell to grip her naked waist. It had been so long since he’d felt her soft skin beneath his fingertips, so long since he’d navigated the sweeping curves of her hips and breasts and savoured her warm breath against his mouth. It was heaven to hold her again.
She pulled back, cheeks flushed lightly pink, and laced her fingers in his own to pull him over to the bed. The glint in her eyes reflected from a time years ago, when they were both teenagers and madly in love and unable to keep their wandering hands off each other’s flesh. Kris’ heart fluttered desperately against his ribs as Jessica sprawled her form across the sheets and pulled him down to press her further into the fabric.
And soon the ice that had frozen her soul’s desires melted in his palms.
♦♦♦
The staff had retreated to their quarters and Jongdae took it upon himself to wander the corridors out of boredom and the fool’s hope of bumping into a certain butler, if he was lucky. A little down from the kitchens was Joonmyun’s office but its door was shut and no stream of light filtered from underneath. To its right was another door and this door was open. It was the wine cellar where only the butler was allowed a key. Jongdae’s heart danced.
But when he slipped through the entrance, it sunk again in his chest. It wasn’t Joonmyun clinking and scuffling inside.
“Jongin?”
“Jongdae-!”
The younger spun around, guilt painted plainly across his features with a single wine bottle clenched in his grasp.
Jongdae’s brows furrowed. “What are you doing in here?”
“I-I...ermm…” His eyes shot between his brother’s face and the bottle in his hands and then he let out a sigh. “Please don’t rat on me, Jongdae, please. Just let me go this one time.”
Jongdae’s mouth fell open. “This one time? I’ve let you off a hundred times!”
“It’s white!” he said, frantically. “His Lordship doesn’t drink white wine, you know that! It’ll just end up dusty and forgotten…”
After a long silence where the two of them glared intensely at each other, Jongdae threw up his hands and huffed. “Alright, fine. But get out of here as quickly as possible and don’t drink too much!”
Jongin’s smile was infectious as he leapt forward happily to pat him gratefully on the shoulder. “You’re the best brother I could hope for.”
“I know, I know,” said Jongdae with amusement. He held out a palm. “Now give me the key.”
Jongin feigned ignorance but was ultimately defeated when he drew an old key from his pocket and placed it in Jongdae’s hand before bounding out of the door. His merry steps echoed down the corridor outside.
The kid had awfully swift and sticky fingers; everybody knew it. No doubt he’d swiped it from the butler’s office when he wasn’t looking, just like every other key he’d ever managed to get a hold of. Nobody had explored the hidden nooks and crannies of Foxcombe as much as Jongin had. Nobody else knew so many of its secrets.
Jongdae twirled the rusty key between his fingers and turned on his heels to escape before anyone caught him until-
“Jongdae?”
Joonmyun’s form stood proud and curious in the doorway.
Gulp.
He was in trouble now.
♦♦♦
“Where are we going?” Sehun whined.
“You’ll see.” Jongin led the way over the expansive driveway and across to the grassy ground; a flickering lantern hanging from one hand and the wine bottle lodged under his arm.
“Oh God.” Sehun’s steps stopped. “You’re not taking me on another ghost hunt, are you?”
Jongin couldn’t help but laugh. “Why that face? From what I can remember, you quite enjoyed the last one,” he said, flashing a sly smirk in the younger’s direction.
“But I didn’t enjoy you leaving me in the dark on my own and making my heart leap out of my chest.” His feet reluctantly continued crunching across the stones.
“I can promise I am definitely not taking you on another ghost hunt. Do you trust me?” Jongin outstretched his arm.
“No.” But he took the hand offered anyway.
“Maybe a sip of this’ll help.” Jongin slid the bottle from his armpit and pushed it into Sehun’s chest. “Drink up, little footman.”
“Who are you calling ‘little’? I’m taller than you…” he mumbled and Jongin muffled a chuckle as Sehun popped the cork, sniffed the top curiously, and gulped a mouthful. After swallowing, he wrinkled his nose.
“Nice?”
“Not bad,” said Sehun, passing the bottle back. “A bit sweet.”
“Are you a wine connoisseur now?” quipped Jongin and he was rewarded with a smack on his shoulder. “This probably cost more than a month’s wages so enjoy it.”
“Won’t His Lordship notice it’s missing? Or Mr Kim, maybe?”
“His Lordship hates white wine but since you can’t turn down gifts from wealthy businessmen, he gracefully accepts and stores them for eternity in the wine cellar, forever unopened. Jongdae will take care of Mr Kim. He’s got my back.”
Sehun nodded with understanding and pulled the bottle back into his hands for another sip, suddenly guilt-free. “But, seriously, where are we going? If we carry on like this we’ll end up in the woods.”
A smile blossomed across Jongin’s lips. “Exactly.”
♦♦♦
“Mr Kim! I can explain!” Jongdae quickly slipped the key into his pocket and wiped his sweating palms across his waistcoat. “I was just…umm…you see, the thing is-”
But Joonmyun held up a hand. “Relax, Jongdae. It really doesn’t faze me that you’re in here.”
“Oh. Okay then.” He breathed a silent sigh of relief and swung his arms awkwardly at his sides.
Joonmyun glanced around at the walls of shelves, hands clasped behind his back. “What’s your preference?”
“Sorry, what?”
He nodded at the bottles. “Your wine preference? Are you a red or white wine man?”
“Umm…I’m not really fussed, to be honest. Wine isn’t exactly a speciality of mine. I’ll take whatever I can get."
To that, Joonmyun chuckled. “I can sympathise with you on that.” He reached forward and pulled a single bottle into his cradling grasp from the neck. “Can I tempt you?”
“R-right now? Sure.”
With nervous fingers that trembled slightly, Jongdae reached up to one of the higher shelves for a couple of wine glasses as Joonmyun uncorked the bottle. The pale liquid swirled into the glass and its pleasant aroma tantalised Jongdae’s nose. Even after just a single sip, he felt his head sitting a little lighter, although he was almost sure it wasn’t entirely the wine’s fault for that.
Joonmyun brought his glass forward to clink them together. “I think everyone deserves a night off every once in a while, a chance to let go. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Jongdae repeated, unable to take his gaze from Joonmyun’s face as he gulped his share.
He couldn’t have agreed more.
♦♦♦
Moonbeams filtered through the canopy and littered the ground in pale rays. Moths danced in the shafts of light and Jongin battered them away from his face as they crunched across the ocean of ferns and twigs that blushed with gold from the candle swinging in his grasp. Occasionally something would rustle loudly in a bush they passed and Sehun would gasp slightly, suddenly walking closer to Jongin’s steps. Further and further into the undergrowth they ambled, over storm-fallen mossy trunks and rabbit holes until a clearing emerged that almost shone in the moonlight. Everything was bathed in silver, including Sehun’s face which was pale enough at the best of times but now possessed an ethereal glow like a fairy prince from local tales.
“This is where we came with Jack, right? I remember those tree roots…”
One of the beech trees had grown abnormally tall and thick with a trunk far too large for a single man to wrap his arms around. On top of that, a labyrinth of roots snaked down over the uneven ground from its base like slow-worms interlocking their long bodies. Each one sprung as thick as a chair and tailed off as thin as a pencil, disappearing into the ground.
“And there’s definitely no ghosts around here?” asked Sehun, looking around with wide eyes.
Jongin shook his head. “Only the groundskeeper’s dead son who likes to wander on a full moon betw-ow!”
Sehun had lashed out again across his arm. “It’s not funny!”
“It’s a little funny,” he chuckled, rubbing the spot the younger had violated. “In fact, I think it’s cute that you’re afraid of ghosts.”
“They’re dead people, who wouldn’t be?” asked Sehun matter-of-factly and Jongin sighed with defeat.
“Things like ghosts don’t really exist. They’re just story characters to scare kids. Stop worrying.”
“If you say so…” Sehun’s voice trailed off as he began to explore the area, drinking in the unearthly beauty of nature dusted in rays of lunar light. Jongin’s heart only ached as his slim form scuffled warily between the vegetation.
He’d never fallen for anyone so fast or so hard and every heartbeat reverberated as intensely as the one before. There was a mystery behind Sehun’s eyes and a surprising softness under that cold demeanour that kept Jongin wanting, longing, for more every time. He wasn’t a god after all and he couldn’t understand how any mortal resisted Sehun’s princely profile and slim waist that curved only slightly, fitting perfectly beneath human fingertips. The boy’s soft skin and cushioning lips were enough to keep Jongin’s gaze fixed in one direction, neither daring to nor interested in wandering anywhere else. He silently prayed that Sehun felt the same.
If his kisses were anything to go by, he most certainly did.
Jongin leant down and swept the lamp light over the floor, peering between the leaves at the small night-blossoming flowers that peeked through the gaps, and a voice rang out from the side of the clearing.
“You really love England, don’t you?”
Sehun had been watching him, leaning against a birch trunk with his arms folded.
“What’s not to love? It’s like something out of a fairytale.” He pushed himself back onto his feet. “And miles and miles and miles away from Seoul. Just where I want to be.”
“Why?”
Jongin’s face fell grave. “That’s not fair.”
“What isn’t?”
“You won’t tell me about your past. Why should I tell you mine?”
“You make a fair point.” Sehun nudged himself off the tree and walked closer.
“Let’s make a deal,” said Jongin, grabbing his hand. “I won’t ask questions. You won’t ask questions. We’ll live in the present, in the now, and forget about everything before. We’ll begin again. Tonight.” He leaned his head forward. “How does that sound?”
Sehun’s lips curled into a rare smile. “Perfect.”
He was going to kiss him then; kiss him under the full moon and tell him through the language of his own heartbeat how much he meant to him…
But then the heavens opened.
Sehun grimaced, throwing his hands over his head. “Wha-? It was a clear sky a second ago!”
“Welcome to England!” cried Jongin, throwing his head back to enjoy the shower of heavy raindrops on his skin. Sehun pulled at his hand in an attempt to escape. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”
“Under cover, maybe? I’m soaked!” But Jongin didn’t let go of his fingers and, instead, dragged him back.
“It’s purifying!” He could feel the water seeping through his clothes but it didn’t matter, not when Sehun’s drenched hair made him look like a forlorn puppy. “To wash away our sins.”
Sehun stared up at the sky thoughtfully. “It’ll take more than water.”
“Not tonight.” He pinched Sehun’s chin between his fingers to pull his face looking forwards. Noses brushing, he purred against his lips, “Now kiss me, dammit.”
There was something poetic about kissing in the rain, with the water slipping over warming skin and falling between sloppy sucks and wild tongues. Jongin was surprised it wasn’t rising from his cheeks as steam with the blood that pumped harder and faster while his hand meandered under Sehun’s wet shirt to cling at his skin. Half-moons dug into the boy’s waist from his nails and not tearing his clothes at the seams took serious effort.
Soon Sehun was shuddering from the cold as the wind picked up and Jongin reluctantly pulled away.
“C’mon,” he uttered, rubbing his hands up and down Sehun’s arms and nudging his head towards the gigantic beech tree.
The roots were slippery now but they carefully navigated the maze with steady feet to climb to the top. Once they were under the tree’s dry branches, dripping from every corner, Jongin pressed a hand against Sehun’s heaving chest and forced him hard against the trunk. His eyes widened in surprise which only made Jongin’s grin stretch wider. The boy’s wet, shining flesh and the way his see-through shirt clung to his chest was all just a little too tempting. Before long, their lips met again in a blur of soft growls and grinding hips and Jongin lifted both of Sehun’s arms up to pin them against the rough bark. He cried out from the pressure of the sharp points against his hands and Jongin lavished the side of his neck, kissing and licking down along his collarbones.
“You’re beautiful, do you know that?” he uttered as he nuzzled Sehun’s shoulders. “So beautiful…”
He let go of his arms to unclasp the buttons of Sehun’s shirt, plucking at them one by one until his bare chest flashed through the gap. He fingered one of the boy’s hard nipples without hesitation and leaned down to take the other into his mouth, lapping happily while Sehun writhed and groaned beneath his touch. Jongin could feel the bulge between his legs harden and his thighs shook.
“Jongin…” Sehun moaned.
Heading south, Jongin trailed more kisses down onto Sehun’s stomach, following his happy-trail to the top of his trousers where eager fingers pulled at the top button, but Sehun grabbed his shoulders.
“W-wait-”
The wet spikes of his fringe framed Sehun’s pale face. He would’ve looked a lot younger and more innocent had it not been for the hunger in his eyes as he met Jongin’s gaze lingering by his crotch. After a short while, he heaved a breath and nodded his head to grant permission. Jongin licked his lips in anticipation while rogue raindrops escaped the confines of the branches above their heads and fell to the floor around him.
With one swift movement, the material flapped open and Jongin held Sehun’s shaft tightly in his grasp. After a couple of gentle pumps to get the boy’s heart rate going, he slid a wet tongue up its impressive length on all sides to make the veined skin glisten beneath his mouth. Sehun whined, rolling his hips with desire and gripping harder to the bark of the tree. When the younger was sufficiently mewling with impatience, Jongin slipped his tort lips over the helmet and hollowed his cheeks to suck it dry, swirling a tongue as he went.
“Oh God,” Sehun cursed, throwing his head back and clawing a hand through Jongin’s hair. The uneven ground dug into his knees but he barely felt it, not with Sehun’s seeping member gliding against the inside of his cheek while its owner gasped and groaned and leaked profanities from his young lips into the forest air. His trembling form only spurred Jongin to suck harder, quickening his pace and holding tighter to make Sehun squirm with pleasure and grip his head with surprising strength. It turned him on more to watch the boy lose control of himself.
“F-fuck Jongin, I can’t take-”
In a final move, Jongin paused for a second to lick a single finger and push it behind to tease his entrance, pressing firmly and gently slipping his fingertip inside. It was enough to make Sehun cry out with shining temples while Jongin’s lips continued making their magic, pumping relentlessly and easing the head to hit the back of his throat.
Eventually, it was too much. “Holy shit, I’m gonna-”
Sehun’s cock throbbed hard and his warm seed streamed into Jongin’s mouth. He quickly swallowed, maintaining the rhythm through reddening lips and eased his tongue’s movements. The younger’s body shook with a final spasm and he leant, breathing heavily, against the rough surface and hung his head. Satisfied with his skills, Jongin slid off his mouth and eased his aching limbs from the damp ground, grinning like a feline.
Sehun met his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” he panted.
“Like what?” Jongin played the ignorant.
“Like you’ve just caught your first meal.”
Jongin laughed and stroked an affectionate finger down his cheek. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
And there, in the hazy moonlight, Jongin savoured the taste of what truly kept his heart beating.
♦♦♦
“Mrs Fletcher.”
“Not for all the jewels of Buckingham Palace.” Joonmyun thought for a while with pursed lips. “Mrs…Tullet?”
Jongdae screwed up his face in disgust. “She’s 87 and falling apart!” Then he suddenly lit up mischievously. “Mrs Kwon!”
To that, Joonmyun almost choked on his drink; spluttering helplessly while Jongdae cackled with satisfaction. A hand flew to cup over his mouth and muffle the chuckles that echoed off the walls.
“Shh! She’ll hear you!” the butler pleaded, lowering his voice. “That woman has supernatural senses.”
Jongdae leaned his head closer to utter under his breath, “Are you sure it’s a woman? Have you seen her moustache?”
“Stop or I’m going to choke!” Joonmyun chortled while clutching at his front and he let a hand fall onto Jongdae’s leg. Disappointment twanged his heartstrings when it slipped off again.
They had both sprawled on the floor, legs bent, backs leaning against the wall while an empty bottle stood a little further away, used and forgotten. A couple of glasses of wine each had been enough to ease the tension and make everything hilarious, especially once they tried pairing each other with women from the House and village. Jongdae’s stomach hurt from laughing so hard and even Joonmyun had unbuttoned the top of his shirt from the heat of it all. Jongdae tried his hardest not to stare at the sliver of pale skin that stared back at him. Instead, he let out a long, intoxicated sigh while his head buzzed.
“I always imagined you with someone like Miss Hopkins, anyway.”
“The librarian in the village? She’s not the worst of them, I suppose,” Joonmyun mused. After a long silence, Jongdae saw him raise his head in the corner of his vision. “Is that…all who you imagined me with?”
“All I dared to.” It was the truth and the truth had a habit of slipping out in times like these.
Joonmyun absentmindedly tapped his glass before placing it on the ground at his side. “Do I not have a say?”
“Of course you do,” he swallowed. “W-who do you imagine yourself with?” He tried to take a causal sip from his drink in an attempt to hide the painful visions of Joonmyun and Joohyun filtering behind his eyes. Anyone but her, he prayed. Anyone but her…
And then his chest constricted.
A rogue finger found its way to the back of his thigh, stroking a single line up his trouser leg. Nobody had said another word and breaths were scarce in the empty air as Joonmyun eventually stopped and leaned in further, only the slightest bit, and whispered: “Who do you think?”
Jongdae let his head turn to the side to meet Joonmyun’s eyes, where the entire universe was held as far as he was concerned. “You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t?” Fingers cupped under Jongdae’s jaw.
He made to pull away. “Joonmyun, you’ve been dr-”
But he never got to finish his sentence because the butler’s lips were suddenly clamping his own shut with eyelids that fluttered closed.
Oxygen had defeated Jongdae’s lungs, eyes still open in silent disbelief, while Joonmyun pressed himself harder against his face and the back of Jongdae’s head ached against the cold wall behind. The moment his lips parted, Jongdae’s grip on the wine glass in his hand relaxed in ecstasy and it rolled from his fingers across the stone floor, lids finally closing while he drowned in the pleasure of Joonmyun’s tongue sliding against his teeth. Before he could stop himself, a hand reached up and curled around the back of Joonmyun’s head, entwining the fingers with his hair and a slight groan vibrated from his throat, blood pumping hard and desperate. The hint of wine from a foreign tongue assaulted his taste-buds and he knew, deep down, that pulling away would have been best for everyone since Joonmyun was obviously not thinking straight but when your own tingling mind and fingertips have other ideas, it’s a difficult feat to accomplish.
In between clumsy kisses and short breaths, Jongdae gave in to his inherent hunger and pushed the butler back onto the ground, which he did not protest. He leant over his heavily-breathing form, taking in the sight of his heart’s desire panting with red cheeks and plump lips. When Joonmyun licked the tip of his tongue along his mouth, Jongdae’s crotch spasmed at the sight and he wormed his lower body into the space between Joonmyun’s legs, pressing down. The hard bulge in his trousers was met with the butler’s own excitement and it made him want to whine with pleasure.
“Do it,” Joonmyun mouthed in barely above a whisper.
Jongdae’s eyebrows met in confusion for a moment before he finally understood. After a single shaky breath, he slowly rocked his hips back and forth, applying a little more pressure every time, so their members rubbed against each other through the fabric. Joonmyun’s lips unstuck and his eyes closed again and pick blotches appeared on his collarbones. Jongdae leaned down, licking and nibbling the side of his delicious neck that was becoming shinier with sweat. Each moan vibrated on his mouth and he wanted nothing more than to erode him into the ground.
“Harder,” he elder breathed.
The word alone was almost enough to make him finish but he bit down painfully on his lip and clawed the floor so hard his fingers bled in order to stop himself. Joonmyun arched his spine, throwing his head back to the sensation of their throbbing shafts sliding together. Jongdae grabbed at his hip and rocked their pelvises into a hard rhythm, bucking slightly for extra friction.
“Tell me you need me,” he breathed into his ear. “Joonmyun, pl-”
“I n-need you, Jongdae.”
“Fu-!”
With his own name moaned from such perfect lips, he couldn’t pause the damp fountain that moistened his crotch and made every nerve ending in his body quiver. Jongdae groaned loudly into the crook of Joonmyun’s neck as the butler’s fingers dug into his back with the same intensity and eventually relaxed.
Jongdae heaved himself off of Joonmyun’s rising chest and rolled onto the floor at his side, head spinning and eyes unable to focus from the wine and orgasm combination. The ceiling wouldn’t stop moving and stars dotted his retinas.
He had no idea what had just happened.
And then a distant bell rang.
♦♦♦
When the bells tinkled in the servant’s quarters, Jongin barely moved a muscle. His long arms were wrapped around Sehun’s slim figure under the covers and his personal nirvana was enough to muffle the sounds of scurrying feet and frantic rushing outside the door. Sehun’s hair still smelled of rain and wet leaves and all the wonderful things that Jongin would lock away in his heart and nothing was going to tear him away from that.
Until the door flew open and a frantic Jongdae shouted into the darkness.
“Get up! Quick! They’re here!”
Jongin leapt up. “What? Who?” But the door had already shut.
He turned to the other, rubbing under his eyes. “Do you know who he’s on about?”
But Sehun only shrugged.
Nevertheless, they dragged their leaded bones out of bed as fast as their muscles would allow and shoved them into some respectable attire. It wasn’t often that the staff were awoken in the middle of the night to random guests arriving at Foxcombe so Jongin predicted the arrival of someone important, whoever that may be. He was hardly in the mood for such an abrupt wake-up call but when did a footman ever have a choice in the matter?
Upstairs the main staff, including the butler and head housemaid and Jessica’s lady’s maid, had lined up politely and orderly in the entrance hall while the two new guests filtered through from the front door. Jongin stepped forward to help the lady with her layers while Jongdae headed for her male companion. He guessed she was Jessica’s younger sister going by the portrait that hung in the common room. She possessed the same calculating gaze.
“We do apologise for such an unexpected arrival but we just couldn’t wait until the 17th to witness Foxcombe with our own eyes.” She looked around in awe as Jongin slipped the coat from her shoulders. “It’s a delight to finally see it. I’m almost hurt you didn’t wish to invite me sooner.”
“Do you blame me?” said Jessica with a steel tongue and tight lip.
“My dear friend, welcome to Foxcombe!” said Kris, pulling the second guest into a hearty embrace and proceeding to talk a little in Chinese. The man’s back was still turned and Jongin couldn’t quite make out his face although his head seemed rather small. Once Soojung’s coat was hung by the door, he slipped into line besides Sehun and straightened his back.
“Sister, what beautiful staff you have here. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr Lu?” cooed Soojung while she prowled, staring up and down the row of Foxcombe employees.
“Ah, yes. Very pleasing to the eyes.” The male guest finally turned and Jongin felt Sehun abruptly tense to his side. The man with the youthful face was shorter than he with a much slimmer frame and strong shoulders. His age was a complete mystery. Those doe eyes, like shiny chestnuts, looked deceiving.
His eyes raked each of their features in turn but did a double-take when he reached Sehun. Mr Lu closed the space between them and walked uncomfortably close to Sehun’s face, lips hooked into an angelic smile. “Especially this one,” he purred. “So tall.”
Sehun’s throat made a sound like a mouse being strangled and all the colour drained from his cheeks. Then he covered his mouth with his palm and muffled a cry of, “I’m sorry, please excuse me,” before disappearing back down the servant’s stairs in a panicked, shaky rush.
Mr Lu seemed perplexed. “Did I say something to offend?”
“Of course not. I’m sure he’s just unwell,” said Kris with reassurance. “If you’ll follow Mr Kim, he’ll lead you upstairs to your rooms. You must be exhausted from the journey.” As a side note, he added: “Jongdae and Jongin will fetch your luggage.”
Just as he was instructed, Jongin joined his brother outside to lug the heavy cases into the House from the car still rumbling in the driveway. His feet and hands worked with a desperate speed to finish the job quickly and find a distressed Sehun.
“What the hell is wrong with him?” asked Jongdae, barely missing his toes from a particularly heavy case.
Jongin’s forehead crinkled into a frown. “I have no idea.”
♦♦♦
This was it; the beginning of the end. Sehun could feel it. It had felt like that before.
Now that Lu Han had followed him to England.
He’d stumbled down the servant’s corridor, gripping the wall with broken nails, until his legs couldn’t move any longer. Nausea bubbled in his stomach, fear crept from the back of his mind and flames teased his senses from behind his eyes until every limb of his body shook. Thousands of miles weren’t enough to cut the past from his tail and now the past had found him, just as beautiful and dangerous as before.
Hurried steps echoed behind him and Jongin’s soft voice rang in his ear.
“Sehun? Are you alright? Did you drink too much wine? Sehun, talk to me, please.”
But he couldn’t utter a single word, not when the elder’s hands braced themselves either side of his head against the wall and his throat constricted so tightly he could barely breath as he stared at Jongin’s dark skin. His nose twitched with the dream-memory of smoke.
It was getting hotter…
It was getting hazier…
Those hands in his nightmares…those reddening hands glowing in the fire’s impending destruction hadn’t been his own, he realised…
They were Jongin’s.
Chapter Five
Rating: NC-17/R
Pairing: SeKai + SuChen
Summary: The year is 1913. Kim Jongin and Kim Jongdae are footmen for Foxcombe House, owned by the Wu family who migrated to England following the success of Kristopher Wu's business in both Shanghai and London. He and his heiress wife, Jessica, now own the estate much to the distaste of the locals. A certain runaway from Seoul appears on the doorstep and suddenly the Kim brothers' lives are turned inside-out, destined to end in ruin.
Inspired by the era of Downton Abbey and a certain old manor in Sussex, England, with an eerie story to tell.
{ PROLOGUE } { ONE } { TWO } { THREE }
Chapter Four
Everything was hazy. Very hazy.
Smoke curled up the walls as steel fingers clawing against the wallpaper. It pricked the back of his throat as he sucked in harsh breaths, desperate for oxygen, making him cough and splutter. His eyes stung from the smog. Heat thrummed in the poisoned air. There wasn’t a hand free to cover his mouth and protect his lungs because his fists were too busy being relentlessly thrown against the door in front of him. He was shouting, too - shouting and screaming over the crackling flames, punching the wood with his palms until it bruised his skin and tugging with all his might on the door knob that barely twisted.
It was getting hotter…
It was getting hazier…
“Sehun? Are you…alright?”
Sehun snapped out of his daze to the sight of Jongdae peering apprehensively at his face, a single eyebrow raised.
He quickly bobbed his head. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”
He tried to focus with blurry sight at what lay before him. It was a row of wine bottles, each looking relatively similar to the next with indistinguishable calligraphy scrolled along the front in English - or was it French? - he couldn’t tell for sure. Either way, he had no idea what he was doing.
His hands lingered in the air for a while, plucking at nothing, until Jongdae stepped forward.
“You’ll want this one, on the far right.” Jongdae leant over and bent his fingers around the neck of the bottle, lifting it up to cup under its base. “His Lordship only ever has a dry, bitter wine with his beef.”
Ah, yes. It was dinner. Sehun was serving dinner.
He accepted it gratefully. “Dry and bitter with beef. Right. Thanks.”
Sehun flashed him a shy smile and turned to leave. The number of words the two of them had exchanged since he had started working at Foxcombe could be counted on one hand and he didn’t need the heavy, awkward air to make him feel any more anxious. Jongdae’s curious eyes pierced the back of his head.
Once he’d rounded the corner, Sehun used a shaking hand to prop himself against the wall and breathe deeply, relaxing his chest. The dreams were becoming more frequent now, more realistic. Worst of all, they were beginning to plague him during his waking hours. He could almost taste the smoke lingering on his tongue and smell the panic reeking off his skin. But those hands…had they been his? He looked down at his own, flipping them over and back again. He didn’t know. The lines weren’t quite sharp enough to make them out.
Yet.
Kristopher settled himself in his usual seat at the head of the dining table, folding a newspaper and placing it to his side. An array of dishes followed his main meal with a delectable choice of various sides and vegetables to accompany the glistening meat. He licked his lips with satisfaction and Sehun’s stomach growled at the paradise he couldn’t touch.
Joonmyun entered and Kris turned his head slightly to the side in order to speak to him.
“Have we received confirmation of Soojung’s visit?”
The butler nodded. “Yes, sir. Her reply arrived this morning.”
“And the date we’re to be expecting their arrival?”
“The 17th, sir.”
“Excellent. That gives us ample time to prepare the house for company.” Kris looked down the table and across to the door expectantly. “Where’s Jessica? Is she not dining this evening?”
“Her Ladyship has requested dinner to be served in her own quarters. For the time being,” Joonmyun explained regretfully, hanging his head slightly.
“Oh. I understand,” said Kris, although the disappointment in his voice was hard to miss. He merely sighed at his plate and began to eat.
The kingdom was beginning to look awfully small with a lone king sat at its throne.
♦♦♦
“How are you getting on? With working here at Foxcombe, I mean.”
It was Jongdae’s first attempt at instigating conversation with the new footman, just as he’d promised his brother, who wasn’t so shiny any longer. Maids and cooks bustled around them in the busy kitchen to clear up after dinner and some were settling at the table to eat their own, laughing and jeering and happily scoffing their faces with the leftovers. He and Sehun stacked the unwashed plates by the sink.
“Fine, thank you.”
He was a boy of very few words, that much was true. The only time anyone saw his lips move was when Jongin was at his side, and the thought of this sent a spasm through Jongdae’s stomach, but he ignored it. He’d almost given up hope with bonding with the young footman until the promise of an actual conversation bloomed from the boy’s lips.
“I don’t think Her Ladyship likes me very much.”
Jongdae let out a dry chuckle. “I wouldn’t take it personally. She’s like that with everyone.”
Sehun’s thin lips parted with surprise.
“You seem shocked,” Jongdae continued. “Has Jongin not told you the story of the Wu family?”
He shook his head shyly. “I haven’t asked. I didn’t want to push my luck with things so early.”
“Smart boy.” Jongdae pulled a stool forward from the table and settled himself on top. “Maybe it’s time someone enlightened you since you’re practically a part of the furniture now.”
He could almost see Sehun’s spirit rise and ears prick with interest as the boy mirrored his movements and grabbed a chair for himself to sit on. Their heads bent closer together.
“Her Ladyship hates it here and always has done, ever since we arrived,” began Jongdae, eyes darting around the noisy kitchen to ensure nobody was taking much notice of them. “As a result her unfavourable expression has become something of a habit. That’s what being in a place like this does to a person.”
“A ‘place like this’? Do you not like it here either?” asked Sehun in a small voice.
“I am here out of necessity, and for Jongin. Nothing more.”
The statement took the younger aback but he didn’t lean away. “Why is Her Ladyship here if she hates it so much?”
“She will follow wherever her husband goes, of course. His Lordship’s family business brought him to England and, therefore, the Wu household along with him.” Jongdae lowered his voice further so it barely rumbled above the bustle. “I think the miscarriages were the last straw, however.”
Sehun’s eyes widened. “Miscarriages?”
“It’s common knowledge among the staff…but breathe a single word to anyone else and you’ll have a lot to answer for.” When the boy nodded in understanding, he continued. “The efforts to produce an heir to the estate have, so far, been foiled. Perhaps it was the stress of moving so far away from her home, perhaps something else - but Her Ladyship has yet to have a successful pregnancy. Until then…I fear she won’t become any kinder.”
Sehun was quiet for a few moments. “It’s understandable, I suppose.”
Jongdae agreed. “Indeed. Quite understandable.”
♦♦♦
Something sparked within the walls of Foxcombe House that night, and Kristopher felt it deep within his bones.
A full moon rose over the South Downs, a pale orb suspended on a black canvas, and shone brightly through the darkened windows of the library. Kris unhooked the latch of the cabinet and reached forward for the tall vase near the back. He cradled it in his palms, turning its smooth surface over and over again to appreciate his best handiwork. It had taken painstaking hours to paint the scales with such precision and he smiled at the memory. A red dragon; the beast of legends and the symbol of his family’s success. There were tales of dragons in England, but they were not the same dragons. Their dragons were foul fire-breathers with thick legs that destroyed cities with a single breath and were slain by brave knights; nothing like the wise, majestic creatures with bodies that flowed like water in Chinese fables. Suddenly a little home-sick, he settled the vase back in its place with a sigh and made to leave.
Wandering across the entrance hall and making his way to the grand staircase, Kris caught sight of Joonmyun turning off the lights on his way to bed, most likely.
“Goodnight, Mr Kim,” he said with a nod of his head.
“Sleep well, sir.”
It was late and his limbs were heavy and in the confines of his room he sparked a few candles into life and began removing his jacket. He’d installed electricity to most of the House but still enjoyed the cosy, flickering flames over harsh bulbs. Jessica often laughed at his traditional ways but it didn’t bother him. If anything, he enjoyed the pleasure it gave his wife to mock him affectionately.
He was unbuttoning his shirt when the door creaked open. Kris swung around and there, closing the door behind her, stood his heart’s other half wrapped in thin, silk robe. She didn’t say anything, only stood in one spot, staring back at him with hair that cascaded down her body in loose curls. After a minute or so, she tugged at the tie around her waist and the robe fell to the floor in shining waves, revealing the glory that was her naked flesh in a delicate, warm glow.
His mouth dried considerably and for a moment he was sure he couldn’t speak but Kris eventually managed to croak:
“Jessica, wha-?”
“I want to try again. I’m ready,” she cut in. “I need you, Kris.” Her vulnerable gaze shone through a pair of doe eyes that danced in the firelight.
He didn’t need telling twice.
Within two strides he was there; cupping her beautiful face in his hands and placing eager lips onto her own. The kiss was as gentle and loving as the sun rising in June until Jessica’s hidden hunger pressed him harder against her body and his hands fell to grip her naked waist. It had been so long since he’d felt her soft skin beneath his fingertips, so long since he’d navigated the sweeping curves of her hips and breasts and savoured her warm breath against his mouth. It was heaven to hold her again.
She pulled back, cheeks flushed lightly pink, and laced her fingers in his own to pull him over to the bed. The glint in her eyes reflected from a time years ago, when they were both teenagers and madly in love and unable to keep their wandering hands off each other’s flesh. Kris’ heart fluttered desperately against his ribs as Jessica sprawled her form across the sheets and pulled him down to press her further into the fabric.
And soon the ice that had frozen her soul’s desires melted in his palms.
♦♦♦
The staff had retreated to their quarters and Jongdae took it upon himself to wander the corridors out of boredom and the fool’s hope of bumping into a certain butler, if he was lucky. A little down from the kitchens was Joonmyun’s office but its door was shut and no stream of light filtered from underneath. To its right was another door and this door was open. It was the wine cellar where only the butler was allowed a key. Jongdae’s heart danced.
But when he slipped through the entrance, it sunk again in his chest. It wasn’t Joonmyun clinking and scuffling inside.
“Jongin?”
“Jongdae-!”
The younger spun around, guilt painted plainly across his features with a single wine bottle clenched in his grasp.
Jongdae’s brows furrowed. “What are you doing in here?”
“I-I...ermm…” His eyes shot between his brother’s face and the bottle in his hands and then he let out a sigh. “Please don’t rat on me, Jongdae, please. Just let me go this one time.”
Jongdae’s mouth fell open. “This one time? I’ve let you off a hundred times!”
“It’s white!” he said, frantically. “His Lordship doesn’t drink white wine, you know that! It’ll just end up dusty and forgotten…”
After a long silence where the two of them glared intensely at each other, Jongdae threw up his hands and huffed. “Alright, fine. But get out of here as quickly as possible and don’t drink too much!”
Jongin’s smile was infectious as he leapt forward happily to pat him gratefully on the shoulder. “You’re the best brother I could hope for.”
“I know, I know,” said Jongdae with amusement. He held out a palm. “Now give me the key.”
Jongin feigned ignorance but was ultimately defeated when he drew an old key from his pocket and placed it in Jongdae’s hand before bounding out of the door. His merry steps echoed down the corridor outside.
The kid had awfully swift and sticky fingers; everybody knew it. No doubt he’d swiped it from the butler’s office when he wasn’t looking, just like every other key he’d ever managed to get a hold of. Nobody had explored the hidden nooks and crannies of Foxcombe as much as Jongin had. Nobody else knew so many of its secrets.
Jongdae twirled the rusty key between his fingers and turned on his heels to escape before anyone caught him until-
“Jongdae?”
Joonmyun’s form stood proud and curious in the doorway.
Gulp.
He was in trouble now.
♦♦♦
“Where are we going?” Sehun whined.
“You’ll see.” Jongin led the way over the expansive driveway and across to the grassy ground; a flickering lantern hanging from one hand and the wine bottle lodged under his arm.
“Oh God.” Sehun’s steps stopped. “You’re not taking me on another ghost hunt, are you?”
Jongin couldn’t help but laugh. “Why that face? From what I can remember, you quite enjoyed the last one,” he said, flashing a sly smirk in the younger’s direction.
“But I didn’t enjoy you leaving me in the dark on my own and making my heart leap out of my chest.” His feet reluctantly continued crunching across the stones.
“I can promise I am definitely not taking you on another ghost hunt. Do you trust me?” Jongin outstretched his arm.
“No.” But he took the hand offered anyway.
“Maybe a sip of this’ll help.” Jongin slid the bottle from his armpit and pushed it into Sehun’s chest. “Drink up, little footman.”
“Who are you calling ‘little’? I’m taller than you…” he mumbled and Jongin muffled a chuckle as Sehun popped the cork, sniffed the top curiously, and gulped a mouthful. After swallowing, he wrinkled his nose.
“Nice?”
“Not bad,” said Sehun, passing the bottle back. “A bit sweet.”
“Are you a wine connoisseur now?” quipped Jongin and he was rewarded with a smack on his shoulder. “This probably cost more than a month’s wages so enjoy it.”
“Won’t His Lordship notice it’s missing? Or Mr Kim, maybe?”
“His Lordship hates white wine but since you can’t turn down gifts from wealthy businessmen, he gracefully accepts and stores them for eternity in the wine cellar, forever unopened. Jongdae will take care of Mr Kim. He’s got my back.”
Sehun nodded with understanding and pulled the bottle back into his hands for another sip, suddenly guilt-free. “But, seriously, where are we going? If we carry on like this we’ll end up in the woods.”
A smile blossomed across Jongin’s lips. “Exactly.”
♦♦♦
“Mr Kim! I can explain!” Jongdae quickly slipped the key into his pocket and wiped his sweating palms across his waistcoat. “I was just…umm…you see, the thing is-”
But Joonmyun held up a hand. “Relax, Jongdae. It really doesn’t faze me that you’re in here.”
“Oh. Okay then.” He breathed a silent sigh of relief and swung his arms awkwardly at his sides.
Joonmyun glanced around at the walls of shelves, hands clasped behind his back. “What’s your preference?”
“Sorry, what?”
He nodded at the bottles. “Your wine preference? Are you a red or white wine man?”
“Umm…I’m not really fussed, to be honest. Wine isn’t exactly a speciality of mine. I’ll take whatever I can get."
To that, Joonmyun chuckled. “I can sympathise with you on that.” He reached forward and pulled a single bottle into his cradling grasp from the neck. “Can I tempt you?”
“R-right now? Sure.”
With nervous fingers that trembled slightly, Jongdae reached up to one of the higher shelves for a couple of wine glasses as Joonmyun uncorked the bottle. The pale liquid swirled into the glass and its pleasant aroma tantalised Jongdae’s nose. Even after just a single sip, he felt his head sitting a little lighter, although he was almost sure it wasn’t entirely the wine’s fault for that.
Joonmyun brought his glass forward to clink them together. “I think everyone deserves a night off every once in a while, a chance to let go. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Jongdae repeated, unable to take his gaze from Joonmyun’s face as he gulped his share.
He couldn’t have agreed more.
♦♦♦
Moonbeams filtered through the canopy and littered the ground in pale rays. Moths danced in the shafts of light and Jongin battered them away from his face as they crunched across the ocean of ferns and twigs that blushed with gold from the candle swinging in his grasp. Occasionally something would rustle loudly in a bush they passed and Sehun would gasp slightly, suddenly walking closer to Jongin’s steps. Further and further into the undergrowth they ambled, over storm-fallen mossy trunks and rabbit holes until a clearing emerged that almost shone in the moonlight. Everything was bathed in silver, including Sehun’s face which was pale enough at the best of times but now possessed an ethereal glow like a fairy prince from local tales.
“This is where we came with Jack, right? I remember those tree roots…”
One of the beech trees had grown abnormally tall and thick with a trunk far too large for a single man to wrap his arms around. On top of that, a labyrinth of roots snaked down over the uneven ground from its base like slow-worms interlocking their long bodies. Each one sprung as thick as a chair and tailed off as thin as a pencil, disappearing into the ground.
“And there’s definitely no ghosts around here?” asked Sehun, looking around with wide eyes.
Jongin shook his head. “Only the groundskeeper’s dead son who likes to wander on a full moon betw-ow!”
Sehun had lashed out again across his arm. “It’s not funny!”
“It’s a little funny,” he chuckled, rubbing the spot the younger had violated. “In fact, I think it’s cute that you’re afraid of ghosts.”
“They’re dead people, who wouldn’t be?” asked Sehun matter-of-factly and Jongin sighed with defeat.
“Things like ghosts don’t really exist. They’re just story characters to scare kids. Stop worrying.”
“If you say so…” Sehun’s voice trailed off as he began to explore the area, drinking in the unearthly beauty of nature dusted in rays of lunar light. Jongin’s heart only ached as his slim form scuffled warily between the vegetation.
He’d never fallen for anyone so fast or so hard and every heartbeat reverberated as intensely as the one before. There was a mystery behind Sehun’s eyes and a surprising softness under that cold demeanour that kept Jongin wanting, longing, for more every time. He wasn’t a god after all and he couldn’t understand how any mortal resisted Sehun’s princely profile and slim waist that curved only slightly, fitting perfectly beneath human fingertips. The boy’s soft skin and cushioning lips were enough to keep Jongin’s gaze fixed in one direction, neither daring to nor interested in wandering anywhere else. He silently prayed that Sehun felt the same.
If his kisses were anything to go by, he most certainly did.
Jongin leant down and swept the lamp light over the floor, peering between the leaves at the small night-blossoming flowers that peeked through the gaps, and a voice rang out from the side of the clearing.
“You really love England, don’t you?”
Sehun had been watching him, leaning against a birch trunk with his arms folded.
“What’s not to love? It’s like something out of a fairytale.” He pushed himself back onto his feet. “And miles and miles and miles away from Seoul. Just where I want to be.”
“Why?”
Jongin’s face fell grave. “That’s not fair.”
“What isn’t?”
“You won’t tell me about your past. Why should I tell you mine?”
“You make a fair point.” Sehun nudged himself off the tree and walked closer.
“Let’s make a deal,” said Jongin, grabbing his hand. “I won’t ask questions. You won’t ask questions. We’ll live in the present, in the now, and forget about everything before. We’ll begin again. Tonight.” He leaned his head forward. “How does that sound?”
Sehun’s lips curled into a rare smile. “Perfect.”
He was going to kiss him then; kiss him under the full moon and tell him through the language of his own heartbeat how much he meant to him…
But then the heavens opened.
Sehun grimaced, throwing his hands over his head. “Wha-? It was a clear sky a second ago!”
“Welcome to England!” cried Jongin, throwing his head back to enjoy the shower of heavy raindrops on his skin. Sehun pulled at his hand in an attempt to escape. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”
“Under cover, maybe? I’m soaked!” But Jongin didn’t let go of his fingers and, instead, dragged him back.
“It’s purifying!” He could feel the water seeping through his clothes but it didn’t matter, not when Sehun’s drenched hair made him look like a forlorn puppy. “To wash away our sins.”
Sehun stared up at the sky thoughtfully. “It’ll take more than water.”
“Not tonight.” He pinched Sehun’s chin between his fingers to pull his face looking forwards. Noses brushing, he purred against his lips, “Now kiss me, dammit.”
There was something poetic about kissing in the rain, with the water slipping over warming skin and falling between sloppy sucks and wild tongues. Jongin was surprised it wasn’t rising from his cheeks as steam with the blood that pumped harder and faster while his hand meandered under Sehun’s wet shirt to cling at his skin. Half-moons dug into the boy’s waist from his nails and not tearing his clothes at the seams took serious effort.
Soon Sehun was shuddering from the cold as the wind picked up and Jongin reluctantly pulled away.
“C’mon,” he uttered, rubbing his hands up and down Sehun’s arms and nudging his head towards the gigantic beech tree.
The roots were slippery now but they carefully navigated the maze with steady feet to climb to the top. Once they were under the tree’s dry branches, dripping from every corner, Jongin pressed a hand against Sehun’s heaving chest and forced him hard against the trunk. His eyes widened in surprise which only made Jongin’s grin stretch wider. The boy’s wet, shining flesh and the way his see-through shirt clung to his chest was all just a little too tempting. Before long, their lips met again in a blur of soft growls and grinding hips and Jongin lifted both of Sehun’s arms up to pin them against the rough bark. He cried out from the pressure of the sharp points against his hands and Jongin lavished the side of his neck, kissing and licking down along his collarbones.
“You’re beautiful, do you know that?” he uttered as he nuzzled Sehun’s shoulders. “So beautiful…”
He let go of his arms to unclasp the buttons of Sehun’s shirt, plucking at them one by one until his bare chest flashed through the gap. He fingered one of the boy’s hard nipples without hesitation and leaned down to take the other into his mouth, lapping happily while Sehun writhed and groaned beneath his touch. Jongin could feel the bulge between his legs harden and his thighs shook.
“Jongin…” Sehun moaned.
Heading south, Jongin trailed more kisses down onto Sehun’s stomach, following his happy-trail to the top of his trousers where eager fingers pulled at the top button, but Sehun grabbed his shoulders.
“W-wait-”
The wet spikes of his fringe framed Sehun’s pale face. He would’ve looked a lot younger and more innocent had it not been for the hunger in his eyes as he met Jongin’s gaze lingering by his crotch. After a short while, he heaved a breath and nodded his head to grant permission. Jongin licked his lips in anticipation while rogue raindrops escaped the confines of the branches above their heads and fell to the floor around him.
With one swift movement, the material flapped open and Jongin held Sehun’s shaft tightly in his grasp. After a couple of gentle pumps to get the boy’s heart rate going, he slid a wet tongue up its impressive length on all sides to make the veined skin glisten beneath his mouth. Sehun whined, rolling his hips with desire and gripping harder to the bark of the tree. When the younger was sufficiently mewling with impatience, Jongin slipped his tort lips over the helmet and hollowed his cheeks to suck it dry, swirling a tongue as he went.
“Oh God,” Sehun cursed, throwing his head back and clawing a hand through Jongin’s hair. The uneven ground dug into his knees but he barely felt it, not with Sehun’s seeping member gliding against the inside of his cheek while its owner gasped and groaned and leaked profanities from his young lips into the forest air. His trembling form only spurred Jongin to suck harder, quickening his pace and holding tighter to make Sehun squirm with pleasure and grip his head with surprising strength. It turned him on more to watch the boy lose control of himself.
“F-fuck Jongin, I can’t take-”
In a final move, Jongin paused for a second to lick a single finger and push it behind to tease his entrance, pressing firmly and gently slipping his fingertip inside. It was enough to make Sehun cry out with shining temples while Jongin’s lips continued making their magic, pumping relentlessly and easing the head to hit the back of his throat.
Eventually, it was too much. “Holy shit, I’m gonna-”
Sehun’s cock throbbed hard and his warm seed streamed into Jongin’s mouth. He quickly swallowed, maintaining the rhythm through reddening lips and eased his tongue’s movements. The younger’s body shook with a final spasm and he leant, breathing heavily, against the rough surface and hung his head. Satisfied with his skills, Jongin slid off his mouth and eased his aching limbs from the damp ground, grinning like a feline.
Sehun met his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” he panted.
“Like what?” Jongin played the ignorant.
“Like you’ve just caught your first meal.”
Jongin laughed and stroked an affectionate finger down his cheek. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
And there, in the hazy moonlight, Jongin savoured the taste of what truly kept his heart beating.
♦♦♦
“Mrs Fletcher.”
“Not for all the jewels of Buckingham Palace.” Joonmyun thought for a while with pursed lips. “Mrs…Tullet?”
Jongdae screwed up his face in disgust. “She’s 87 and falling apart!” Then he suddenly lit up mischievously. “Mrs Kwon!”
To that, Joonmyun almost choked on his drink; spluttering helplessly while Jongdae cackled with satisfaction. A hand flew to cup over his mouth and muffle the chuckles that echoed off the walls.
“Shh! She’ll hear you!” the butler pleaded, lowering his voice. “That woman has supernatural senses.”
Jongdae leaned his head closer to utter under his breath, “Are you sure it’s a woman? Have you seen her moustache?”
“Stop or I’m going to choke!” Joonmyun chortled while clutching at his front and he let a hand fall onto Jongdae’s leg. Disappointment twanged his heartstrings when it slipped off again.
They had both sprawled on the floor, legs bent, backs leaning against the wall while an empty bottle stood a little further away, used and forgotten. A couple of glasses of wine each had been enough to ease the tension and make everything hilarious, especially once they tried pairing each other with women from the House and village. Jongdae’s stomach hurt from laughing so hard and even Joonmyun had unbuttoned the top of his shirt from the heat of it all. Jongdae tried his hardest not to stare at the sliver of pale skin that stared back at him. Instead, he let out a long, intoxicated sigh while his head buzzed.
“I always imagined you with someone like Miss Hopkins, anyway.”
“The librarian in the village? She’s not the worst of them, I suppose,” Joonmyun mused. After a long silence, Jongdae saw him raise his head in the corner of his vision. “Is that…all who you imagined me with?”
“All I dared to.” It was the truth and the truth had a habit of slipping out in times like these.
Joonmyun absentmindedly tapped his glass before placing it on the ground at his side. “Do I not have a say?”
“Of course you do,” he swallowed. “W-who do you imagine yourself with?” He tried to take a causal sip from his drink in an attempt to hide the painful visions of Joonmyun and Joohyun filtering behind his eyes. Anyone but her, he prayed. Anyone but her…
And then his chest constricted.
A rogue finger found its way to the back of his thigh, stroking a single line up his trouser leg. Nobody had said another word and breaths were scarce in the empty air as Joonmyun eventually stopped and leaned in further, only the slightest bit, and whispered: “Who do you think?”
Jongdae let his head turn to the side to meet Joonmyun’s eyes, where the entire universe was held as far as he was concerned. “You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t?” Fingers cupped under Jongdae’s jaw.
He made to pull away. “Joonmyun, you’ve been dr-”
But he never got to finish his sentence because the butler’s lips were suddenly clamping his own shut with eyelids that fluttered closed.
Oxygen had defeated Jongdae’s lungs, eyes still open in silent disbelief, while Joonmyun pressed himself harder against his face and the back of Jongdae’s head ached against the cold wall behind. The moment his lips parted, Jongdae’s grip on the wine glass in his hand relaxed in ecstasy and it rolled from his fingers across the stone floor, lids finally closing while he drowned in the pleasure of Joonmyun’s tongue sliding against his teeth. Before he could stop himself, a hand reached up and curled around the back of Joonmyun’s head, entwining the fingers with his hair and a slight groan vibrated from his throat, blood pumping hard and desperate. The hint of wine from a foreign tongue assaulted his taste-buds and he knew, deep down, that pulling away would have been best for everyone since Joonmyun was obviously not thinking straight but when your own tingling mind and fingertips have other ideas, it’s a difficult feat to accomplish.
In between clumsy kisses and short breaths, Jongdae gave in to his inherent hunger and pushed the butler back onto the ground, which he did not protest. He leant over his heavily-breathing form, taking in the sight of his heart’s desire panting with red cheeks and plump lips. When Joonmyun licked the tip of his tongue along his mouth, Jongdae’s crotch spasmed at the sight and he wormed his lower body into the space between Joonmyun’s legs, pressing down. The hard bulge in his trousers was met with the butler’s own excitement and it made him want to whine with pleasure.
“Do it,” Joonmyun mouthed in barely above a whisper.
Jongdae’s eyebrows met in confusion for a moment before he finally understood. After a single shaky breath, he slowly rocked his hips back and forth, applying a little more pressure every time, so their members rubbed against each other through the fabric. Joonmyun’s lips unstuck and his eyes closed again and pick blotches appeared on his collarbones. Jongdae leaned down, licking and nibbling the side of his delicious neck that was becoming shinier with sweat. Each moan vibrated on his mouth and he wanted nothing more than to erode him into the ground.
“Harder,” he elder breathed.
The word alone was almost enough to make him finish but he bit down painfully on his lip and clawed the floor so hard his fingers bled in order to stop himself. Joonmyun arched his spine, throwing his head back to the sensation of their throbbing shafts sliding together. Jongdae grabbed at his hip and rocked their pelvises into a hard rhythm, bucking slightly for extra friction.
“Tell me you need me,” he breathed into his ear. “Joonmyun, pl-”
“I n-need you, Jongdae.”
“Fu-!”
With his own name moaned from such perfect lips, he couldn’t pause the damp fountain that moistened his crotch and made every nerve ending in his body quiver. Jongdae groaned loudly into the crook of Joonmyun’s neck as the butler’s fingers dug into his back with the same intensity and eventually relaxed.
Jongdae heaved himself off of Joonmyun’s rising chest and rolled onto the floor at his side, head spinning and eyes unable to focus from the wine and orgasm combination. The ceiling wouldn’t stop moving and stars dotted his retinas.
He had no idea what had just happened.
And then a distant bell rang.
♦♦♦
When the bells tinkled in the servant’s quarters, Jongin barely moved a muscle. His long arms were wrapped around Sehun’s slim figure under the covers and his personal nirvana was enough to muffle the sounds of scurrying feet and frantic rushing outside the door. Sehun’s hair still smelled of rain and wet leaves and all the wonderful things that Jongin would lock away in his heart and nothing was going to tear him away from that.
Until the door flew open and a frantic Jongdae shouted into the darkness.
“Get up! Quick! They’re here!”
Jongin leapt up. “What? Who?” But the door had already shut.
He turned to the other, rubbing under his eyes. “Do you know who he’s on about?”
But Sehun only shrugged.
Nevertheless, they dragged their leaded bones out of bed as fast as their muscles would allow and shoved them into some respectable attire. It wasn’t often that the staff were awoken in the middle of the night to random guests arriving at Foxcombe so Jongin predicted the arrival of someone important, whoever that may be. He was hardly in the mood for such an abrupt wake-up call but when did a footman ever have a choice in the matter?
Upstairs the main staff, including the butler and head housemaid and Jessica’s lady’s maid, had lined up politely and orderly in the entrance hall while the two new guests filtered through from the front door. Jongin stepped forward to help the lady with her layers while Jongdae headed for her male companion. He guessed she was Jessica’s younger sister going by the portrait that hung in the common room. She possessed the same calculating gaze.
“We do apologise for such an unexpected arrival but we just couldn’t wait until the 17th to witness Foxcombe with our own eyes.” She looked around in awe as Jongin slipped the coat from her shoulders. “It’s a delight to finally see it. I’m almost hurt you didn’t wish to invite me sooner.”
“Do you blame me?” said Jessica with a steel tongue and tight lip.
“My dear friend, welcome to Foxcombe!” said Kris, pulling the second guest into a hearty embrace and proceeding to talk a little in Chinese. The man’s back was still turned and Jongin couldn’t quite make out his face although his head seemed rather small. Once Soojung’s coat was hung by the door, he slipped into line besides Sehun and straightened his back.
“Sister, what beautiful staff you have here. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr Lu?” cooed Soojung while she prowled, staring up and down the row of Foxcombe employees.
“Ah, yes. Very pleasing to the eyes.” The male guest finally turned and Jongin felt Sehun abruptly tense to his side. The man with the youthful face was shorter than he with a much slimmer frame and strong shoulders. His age was a complete mystery. Those doe eyes, like shiny chestnuts, looked deceiving.
His eyes raked each of their features in turn but did a double-take when he reached Sehun. Mr Lu closed the space between them and walked uncomfortably close to Sehun’s face, lips hooked into an angelic smile. “Especially this one,” he purred. “So tall.”
Sehun’s throat made a sound like a mouse being strangled and all the colour drained from his cheeks. Then he covered his mouth with his palm and muffled a cry of, “I’m sorry, please excuse me,” before disappearing back down the servant’s stairs in a panicked, shaky rush.
Mr Lu seemed perplexed. “Did I say something to offend?”
“Of course not. I’m sure he’s just unwell,” said Kris with reassurance. “If you’ll follow Mr Kim, he’ll lead you upstairs to your rooms. You must be exhausted from the journey.” As a side note, he added: “Jongdae and Jongin will fetch your luggage.”
Just as he was instructed, Jongin joined his brother outside to lug the heavy cases into the House from the car still rumbling in the driveway. His feet and hands worked with a desperate speed to finish the job quickly and find a distressed Sehun.
“What the hell is wrong with him?” asked Jongdae, barely missing his toes from a particularly heavy case.
Jongin’s forehead crinkled into a frown. “I have no idea.”
♦♦♦
This was it; the beginning of the end. Sehun could feel it. It had felt like that before.
Now that Lu Han had followed him to England.
He’d stumbled down the servant’s corridor, gripping the wall with broken nails, until his legs couldn’t move any longer. Nausea bubbled in his stomach, fear crept from the back of his mind and flames teased his senses from behind his eyes until every limb of his body shook. Thousands of miles weren’t enough to cut the past from his tail and now the past had found him, just as beautiful and dangerous as before.
Hurried steps echoed behind him and Jongin’s soft voice rang in his ear.
“Sehun? Are you alright? Did you drink too much wine? Sehun, talk to me, please.”
But he couldn’t utter a single word, not when the elder’s hands braced themselves either side of his head against the wall and his throat constricted so tightly he could barely breath as he stared at Jongin’s dark skin. His nose twitched with the dream-memory of smoke.
It was getting hotter…
It was getting hazier…
Those hands in his nightmares…those reddening hands glowing in the fire’s impending destruction hadn’t been his own, he realised…
They were Jongin’s.
Chapter Five