[Fic] Guardian - 1/8 (EXO)
Title: Guardian
Pairing: Kai/Suho
Rating: NC-17 overall
Genre: master/slave!AU, pseudo-historical, fantasy, smut
Warnings: issues of sexual consent, references to past sexual assault, violence, kidnapping, slaves having no ability to say no especially at first, and did I mention issues of consent inherent to master/slave dynamics?
Summary: They spoke of him as though he were nothing more than a treasure found by the roadside. He bowed to his new master because it was polite, and because he knew of nothing else he could do. See warnings.
***
Chapter One * Chapter Two * Chapter Three * Chapter Four * Chapter Five * Chapter Six * Chapter Seven * Chapter Eight
***
It was not night, but full daylight when Suho heard the first shouts of alarm and the warning bell rang for only moments before falling silent. Suho was frozen by the Pool of Silence, wondering what he should do. It was his place, protecting the inner sanctum. There were scrolls, a small collection of precious jewels, relics. But those were hidden. He protected the flame and the pools, not only those.
The sound of doors slamming open sent him into motion. There were rooms well-hidden in the interior, places he could hide, and if it was a simple raid, they would have no use for servants of the temple. They were simple men, who ate, and prayed, and Saw their visions. But he’d had no visions of this. The water had been disturbed, though, he thought as he ducked further into the stone walls. Perhaps that had foretold an attack. Unrest. But he had seen the same thing before storms, or before temple patrons came to take their due.
They brought their money, their food and tributes, in return for use of the bodies of the temple servants. Perhaps their prayers lifted quicker if they were spoken into skin.
There was no money, no coffers overflowing. All they had was stone, and water, and relics of times past. They had their bodies, and their storehouse of food.
Suho would rather the relics be taken than the food.
Suho turned a corner, about to head down further, and nearly ran face to face into a raider.
He knew that was what the man was. He wasn’t in temple robes, but leather, his hair unkempt. And Suho pivoted, racing down the hallway. If he could get to the next hall, he could find a place to hide. He kicked aside his sandals and ran on bare, quiet feet. Perhaps they considered Suho to be nothing more than a rat. The raider wasn’t running after him.
And while he still held that thought, he nearly ran straight into another.
But that time he wasn’t so lucky, caught at the collar and half kneeling, half-trying to hold himself up so that he did not choke.
“Please,” he got out, the only word he spoke before he was shaken, his shoulder slammed into the wall to silence him.
He stayed there on the floor, panting, heart racing as the other raider approached and he wondered if he was about to be killed.
“A temple whore,” the man said. “He’s claimed for Kai if he’s wanted.”
A rough hand grabbed his arm, dragging him onto his feet. The man was older than him by several decades, but his hold was strong. Suho belonged to no one.
“I am guardian of the temple pools. You must release me, or-“
A loosely curled first struck his cheek, and he gasped, tasting blood.
“A slave does not speak unless asked to. You will learn that soon enough.”
He was not a slave. He was not. He blinked back tears of anger as he was pulled along like a dog on a leash.
“My sandals,” he said, cringing as they approached them in case of another blow. The man at least waited for a moment until he could step back into them. It was a kindness, because they left the cool of stone and water, the fountains and pools he used to call his visions.
Outside there was brush, rock, and hot earth that would have burned him. His hands were bound, tied into a line of people like him and unlike him. He craned his head, looking for familiar faces. All he saw right then was fear, and the line of them began to move, pulled at the whim of some captor ahead of them on a horse.
He tried to pull against the rope, and was hit with a stick.
So he stumbled forward, walked. Walked until his mouth was dry and lips peeling. At the river, they were allowed to drink their fill and he drank until he could no longer. His knees and elbows were bloody and stiff, blood drying on his forehead from where he’d been hit above his hairline.
He was dirty, sweaty, hot. There was quiet weeping around him, others too exhausted, or afraid, to make a sound. He had seen herds of cattle or sheep, but he had never been in a herd of people. He’d heard of people being taken. Used as sacrifices or-
He could not bear to think.
He slept, jerking awake in terror several times through the night. There were guards around them, so the chance of escape was small. But worth considering.
But when he woke, they were fed - food from the temple stores, and water. And they walked again half a day. He had the luck of a hood, pulled up to cover his head and shield him from the sun. Others were not so lucky.
They milled to a stop as the sun was beginning to slide down the sky, and Suho could just make out tents ahead of them. Bright colors against the dull browns and greens.
“You,” the man said who had captured him said, cutting Suho free of the leading rope. He stumbled behind the man toward the tents and wondered what was meant for him, for the others. He longed for the temple pools, and knew he would not see them again.
***
The raider called Suho’s shadow the dark side of the moon, because of how pale he was. But he was an opal, lit by fire. Though his hair was dark, it glowed red in the sun from the temple dyes. They spoke of him as though he were nothing more than a treasure found by the roadside. He bowed to his new master because it was polite, and because he knew of nothing else he could do. Inside, logic told him he should bristle at being called “mine” when he was clearly his own. But he had been at the temple too long - the temple had owned him as surely as the man in front of him did.
“Your master’s name is Kai,” another slave told him. Sehun, he said his name was. “When we move camps, I am in charge of moving his things and getting him ready to go. Some of that you can take over. I am the slave of his father. Have you served before?”
“Only at the temple,” Suho said, as they ducked into a tent. It was not much cooler, but it was a relief. “But not like this.”
“You will bring him his meals, clean his clothes. I will show you what to do for a few days. You can always come to me. Better to me than to Kai. You can call him by his name between us. He will not forbid it.”
“And what do I call him?”
“I do not know his preference. I call him sir, since he is the son of my master. You should ask him. He is not a man who would beat you for asking.”
Then at least he was not that kind of man, Suho thought bitterly. The tent was not large, but it was split into two parts by panels of cloth. In one, a low table meant for eating, and in the other, a pile of blankets, furs, and rich pillows.
“We will build you a pallet so that you will be close to serve him at all times,” Sehun said. “I will teach you how he likes his bed constructed. He has several horses, but he has a man to care for them, so that will not be your task, though he may wish you to look in on them once you earn his trust.”
Suho felt ill just contemplating everything.
“We are nomadic,” Sehun continued, waiting for Suho to follow him into another tent nearby. “We stay as long as there is food for us, grass for the horses. Sometimes we stay in one place for a long time, other times we have to move quickly. We’ll find clothes for you here. You cannot wear those robes.”
It was a relief, in a way, to shed the heavy, shining robes. He was left in nothing but a gauzy undergarment at his hips that Sehun tutted at but didn’t require him remove. But the best thing beside had been the cleaning of his wounds. Sehun wouldn’t let him dress again until the scrapes at his knees and elbows were tended to - wounds he’d gotten trying to protect himself and escape during the raid. He wasn’t a warrior. Not all guardians protected with swords. He had been sentinel to the inner temple, in charge of keeping its rituals. But he imagined that was all destroyed.
They found protecting boots for when they would move, to protect him from cold, or heat, or anything else. There was also a pair of serviceable sandals for daily use. He put on the loose trousers, a thin shirt, and tunic that belted at the waist. Sehun had been selective, making sounds of disapproval until he’d found the right colors, right sizes. Suho wondered how many other raids had brought those clothes. Indeed, whose clothes he wore and if they were dead. Perhaps his master had killed them. He had not seen his- He had not seen Kai during the raid. A defenseless temple. Suho had seen the others only briefly, forced together with them - all shellshocked and afraid - and forced to walk. Until he’d been pulled aside, and Kai had inspected him. Inspected was the right word. He was one of Kai’s horses now, one of his shirts. Probably of less importance than the table he ate off of.
“Have you eaten?” Sehun asked.
“No.”
He was given a hardening biscuit filled with some kind of meat, and he all but swallowed it whole. Food, clean clothes, and no pain. But Sehun was still instructing him as they carried bedding for Suho to use back to Kai’s tent.
“Take a plate of food for yourself when you fetch Kai’s food in the future. You should be able to eat quickly as he does, unless he wishes you to fetch other things or serve him wine or tea. Listen for him closely. You’ll get to know his routines.”
For some reason that made a shiver go down his spine. He didn’t want to get to know anyone’s routines. He wanted to go back to the place he’d known as his home since he was ten years old. The cool stone and whistles and echoes caused by the wind. Even the ground in Kai’s tent felt hot, but that was where they placed his bedding. He was in a corner of the tent, just beyond Kai’s bed.
“I need to go prepare for my master, but take this,” Sehun said, pressing a metal flask into his hand. “It is oil. Some men enjoy preparing their partners, and some do not. But it’s best to have it nearby. I know some who have been through terrible pain.”
“Prepared for what?” Suho asked, unsure of what strange ritual Sehun spoke of then. As the words left his mouth, denial crept in. Surely Sehun didn’t mean-
“You are here to serve him in all ways. Including to lie with him in his bed, or in yours, or at the table, or while he bathes. But only if he asks. Maybe you can send a prayer that he will not, if your gods still hear you.”
“But how do I- I know nothing. I was a servant of the temple. I-“
“He knew that when he chose you. Your name means guardian?”
“But I don’t know how to fight.”
“Then guard him all ways you can.”
Sehun’s face held some sympathy, but also resignation, but still Suho asked. “How long have you been a servant?”
“A slave. All my life,” Sehun said. “You will learn.”
“Thank you for- Thank you for helping me. I will try not to add to your burden.”
“I won’t be whipped if you misbehave,” Sehun assured him, which didn’t make Suho feel any better. But he pressed his hand to Sehun’s.
And he Saw with clarity.
“There is a man who cares for you. A man who smiles at you. A cloth merchant?”
Sehun pulled his hand away as though Suho had scalded him.
“You must not do that here. People who have sight, they are sometimes feared. Killed, if they see wrong, or if they see bad omens, as if they draw the bad to them.”
The tickle in the back of his throat was almost hysterical. “But I come from the temple. What else could they have expected?”
“Not all from the temples have power. Tell no one, for your safety, and I will keep your secret.” Sehun looked at his hand again and shook his head. “Stay here until Kai arrives. If you run, you will be whipped. If you run again, you’ll be killed. I’ll be back after the bell for dinner sounds.”
And he left Suho alone, sinking to his knees and staring at the flask of oil. Prepare for something he might not need to prepare for. Sleep in the tent of a man he didn’t know. Serve a man maybe not worth serving. If he ran, he would not be caught, that much he knew. He’d been a slave to the temple.
Perhaps not much had changed.
***
Suho did not serve in Kai’s tent that night. Kai entered the tent and Suho watched him, furtive from the corner he sat in. Some part of his brain told him he should stand, offer his assistance as Kai washed his hands. Perhaps in being proactive, he could win favor. Stubbornness held him back, not a virtue he held by any means. It was beyond hope that anyone from the temple would come to see him freed. They were not warriors, and there had been many tents that he had been led past.
No, there would be no one to save him. Perhaps another temple, one day. He soothed himself with that.
“Stand and come closer,” Kai said, taking a seat in a skin-covered chair made of sturdy pieces of wood.
Suho did, fighting the urge to cower, to hunch. He stood as he had always stood, with his eyes averted.
“Sehun saw to your clothing. That is good. Do you find them acceptable?”
“Yes,” Suho said, and the end of the word trailed away uncomfortably, since Suho did not know how to finish it. To call Kai master seemed appropriate, but the word was not so easy to come.
“This completes it,” Kai said, and took Suho’s arm. Around his wrist, a cuff of metal and leather was wrapped. “This marks you as mine, that you belong to this tent. Do not lose it, or remove it. If you are found out of this tent without it, you will be punished. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” Suho said, staring both at the cuff and Kai’s hand on his arm. A possessive hand.
Sehun saved him from his inspection, as Sehun entered the tent and nodded at Kai before ushering Suho out. He watched with listless mind as Sehun showed him where the food was prepared, how much to take, how to take some for himself. He was to be spared nothing, and for that he could be grateful.
Even if it felt like part of him had been constrained by the addition of the cuff, he would not be withheld food.
Though if he angered Kai, that could change. He acknowledged that as he listened to Sehun, and then carried back Kai’s food - on his own. In the corner, he placed his own plate of food. On the low table, he put the tray - the bowl of thick stew, fried bread, sticky fruit. And from a skin of wine, he poured a goblet full.
“Your meal,” Suho said, and backed away from the table.
Kai hummed as he sank in front of it. “You did well. To your own food. I will let you know if I need anything.”
The food was good, but it did not feel satisfying in his mouth or his belly. Perhaps it was because he gulped it down, afraid of some transgression he had not committed, and how it would hurt him. Perhaps Kai could see his unease, read his mind of yearning to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Unlike the temple, he had no joy or fulfillment in knowing Kai ate because the food had been brought by him. Kai could have fetched his own meal. He was able bodied. And yet, he was born to be obeyed.
Sehun seemed to like Kai, however. In the way he spoke, he was not warning Suho from a cruel master. But if there was one thing that Suho had learned, it was that some slaves did not know there was another alternative. Whatever cruelty they were dealt was a way of life.
Kai stood from the table, and Suho stayed still indecision. When he is done, bring the tray to me.
But Kai ignored him, returning to his chair and his ledger, and leaving Suho to wonder. A word to indicate he was finished would not have been too much. But it was only when Suho stood that Kai’s head rose.
“You can take them.”
Granting him permission. It was not in him then to defy Kai. All he had to do was carry a tray, and walk back to a tent. He was being trusted. Tested. But he walked slowly, feeling the grass against his ankles and breathing as he stared up at the sky.
But Sehun was in motion, urging him in and taking the tray.
“I thought he’d fallen into the bowl,” Sehun said. “But you found your way back. That’s good.”
“When he leaves the table, he is…”
Suho would not say his name aloud. Not yet.
“He is usually finished if he leaves his food,” Sehun agreed. “Unless someone comes in to interrupt him. He will move it aside if he wishes to use the table, or just leave to do something else. You’ll learn. I don’t know his thoughts, but I think you did well.”
“I didn’t spill anything on him.”
“Or refuse to work.”
“Being beaten would not sweeten my position in life,” Suho said, and reached to take the pitcher of water that Sehun offered.
“Thats true. But you shouldn’t linger. If you have a question-“
“I’ll come to you,” Suho said.
He stared down into the water’s shifting surface in the light of the moon outside. He did not need water to call his visions, but it was part of his soul. It would be so easy, if he carried the water to Kai, to put something in his water to make him sleep deeply. And then, he could use the night to sneak away. But he didn’t have the knowledge to. The horses could be guarded, and he knew only how to ride the slow, aged horses that they used to pull their carts. To get away, he would need more than that. One, even two horses, to carry him further than any person following him could catch. He would need provisions, and a knowledge of the layout of the river of tents, more than the short distances between the back of one tent to another. More than only part of a day, and fear, would give him the answer to.
Kai’s goblet was outstretched the moment Suho ducked under the flap of the tent, and with his mouth pressed into a line, Suho poured carefully.
“I led the raid on the temple,” Kai said. “Did you know that?”
Suho shook his head, eyes on the cloth-covered floor.
“Yes. One of my swordsmen claimed some of the temple men for my family’s tents.” Suho inhaled as Kai’s fingers found his cheek. “You were not long in the sun. That is good. Sehun gave you a cloth for your head? You should wear it, or you will burn too easily until your skin adjusts.”
Suho lowered his head. He did not care of his skin, or being burned from the sun.
“Why? Why raid the temple?”
Kai stood, and Suho’s foot slipped back as though preparing to run. It would not help him, perhaps only make Kai angrier.
“Should I not have?”
“It was a holy place,” Suho said.
“A place of whores and scammers. There is nothing left there to return to. No holy men. The pools are emptied. The food, you may have eaten some of it tonight.”
Suho winced when Kai spoke of whores. “Do they live, the others?”
“No one was killed that I know of, but you were the only one brought here to us. The others will be sold.”
“But there were some with the Sight,” Suho said, and it made him sick to think of it. “The temple did good to the poor-“
“It is not your place any longer,” Kai interrupted. “For the sake of the temple, you were called upon to service men and their cocks?”
Suho breathed out through his teeth, but could not think of a way to deny it. “Yes. The temple relied on donations. Sometimes to keep someone happy-“
“Then the money was more important than virgins in the temple.”
“It was food in our mouths,” Suho nearly contradicted him, before lowering his head again. “And it wasn’t often. We fed many with that money and that food.”
“The patrons will see to the poor without the benefit of your body. Your mouth? Or your ass.”
The word shocked him, but he tried not to show it. “Mo-mostly by mouth. The other times-“
The temple oil had been spilled for their patrons to ease their passage and open their purses.
“Good. Then you’ll know what to expect.”
Kai’s fingers ran through his hair. It should have been soothing, but was instead possessive and quite nearly rude.
“This hair made you stand out. Red-haired witch among the others.”
Suho’s mouth parted to say he was no witch, but at least then, he was able to stop the sound.
“You have no further allegiances to that place of worship,” Kai told him. “I am the only temple you will be worshipping at now."
“Yes,” Suho said. And with the word sour in his mouth, he finished, “Master.”
“I should give you time to adjust. But I want your mouth on me tonight. If you are able?”
Suho nodded, and knelt, and kept his eyes closed and his mouth open. He’d done it enough to know what to do, until Kai came over his tongue.
The back of his hand kept anything from spilling from his lips and he stared at the floor.
“Prepare yourself for bed, and turn out the lights,” Kai casually ordered. “It’s been a long day and you should sleep.”
Maybe it was not as bad as Suho had feared, but it had not been everything. He could do that, if he had to. He just didn’t know what else he would have to do.
And the following night proved it, as he slicked his own body with Sehun’s offered oil and his knuckles turned white on the leather trunk he braced against as Kai took him from behind. And the night after that, and after that. It did not pain him as much as it erased him. All he had to do was prepare, and kneel, like an animal. He swallowed any sounds of pain or discomfort, and shuddered as Kai pulled from him. He was learning Kai’s routines, how to serve him, and please his body. And all the while, Suho learned how to clean Kai’s tents, fetch his food, and attend to his clothes.
It could have been worse.
He repeated that to himself almost every hour.
***
Kai’s most intimate concept of owning a slave came from growing up with Sehun. Sehun had been there as his playmate, servant, learning at his side. A boy needed that, his father had said, and it was better if the boy with his son was from inside his tents instead. It made him grow up strong. Together, they had matured. How Sehun treated his father, with deference and quiet, and how Sehun treated Kai was different. In many ways, Kai trusted Sehun more than even his father.
Being almost the same age and full of energy, there had been a number of fights. When Kai had been feeling particularly bratty, he’d pull out the fact that he was the owner’s son and that Sehun was just a slave. One time, that had gotten him a split lip for his trouble, and Sehun in tears. When his father asked, Kai had blamed it on his horse.
Because no matter their fights, or their difference in positions, Sehun was his friend. And if he had told his father that Sehun had lifted a hand to him, Kai could not have even thought of the injury it would have brought. Whipping, most likely, or even being sold. He imagined the betrayal in Sehun’s eyes.
No. He felt Sehun’s loyalty to him, and that loyalty was returned, even as they left boyhood and petty fights behind them. But Suho was different. They had no shared past. Kai could almost see the study on Suho’s face as he held back words or maybe even thoughts. When Suho was finished eating, he was kneeling and silent, waiting for Kai to be done. When Kai spoke to him, at least he had stopped cringing as though Kai would lash out. There had been accusation, not that Suho would lift his eyes to let it be seen. That Suho was there, and not in his temple of sins. Instead of many men urging him to please them, in Kai’s tent there was only one. And Kai felt he had been gentle as he had discovered what Suho’s body was able to take.
Suho’s face was angled and fine, his body fit. To Kai, he was infinitely attractive, and brought him pleasure in every way Kai had asked. But Kai’s experience with the pleasures of the human body were not like those with Suho.
Waking after another night of Suho silent and barely breathing as Kai had taken him, he was dissatisfied. It had had all the added excitement of using his own hand to find pleasure. And there was only one person he could ask.
“You and I have known each other a long time,” Kai said, and Sehun nodded. “Guarantee me this conversation goes no further than your ears.”
“Of course.”
Even with that guarantee, and the fact that he knew he wouldn’t have had to ask for it with how he knew Sehun, it wasn’t easy to speak. It was not a question that Kai could have asked his father. To those he saw around him, slaves were there to be of use. A slave of a man’s own, one that saw to his tent, often served to slake sexual desire, even among those married. He had lived his whole life that way, understanding that a slave would be his to have as he wished. If Kai had asked his father, he would have been given recommendations to beat his slave if he was doing something unsatisfactory. Somehow Kai thought that would not be Sehun’s answer.
“A man who doesn’t react when he is taken. What reasons would there be?”
Sehun frowned, as though it were some kind of trick question. “I suppose if the man didn’t want it. Or if he was in pain. Or if he thinks he should not react.”
None of those reasons being reality pleased Kai. But there was no need to be coy.
“I’ve asked if there is pain, and he said no. He makes no noise at all, only to ask if I need anything else when I am through.” And when Sehun cleared his throat, Kai was exasperated. “Please, speak freely.”
“Does his body…respond? Ah. Rise?”
Kai frowned. “I don’t know.”
“You want him to respond? To react. To… You want him to be vocal?”
“That isn’t something you can ask someone to do,” Kai said, and knew that at least. “I can tell him to moan, but I wouldn’t know if he wished it.”
And Sehun sighed, relaxing. “Then you want him to want your attention, to enjoy what you do to him? You must have care to his needs as well. Not that you have to see to it yourself, but to let him know it’s acceptable? He might not know you wish him to enjoy it, or that you would allow him to see to his own pleasure. Or that making sounds in pleasure or pain is acceptable. He might not know you would like him to seek you out if he is…needing. Or- As a slave, I have only been able to teach him to respond to your orders. To do his duties, to be quiet and respectful and there only when you need. So if he thinks all you want is a body to be quiet, a body to use and walk away from, that is all he would be for you.”
“It is just eerie. He has spoken his mind on other things.”
“Perhaps that is what men before you have wanted from him.”
“Has he told you he desires men?”
“He has not told me he does not,” Sehun could only say. “It is also possible… It is possible he does not know that there is pleasure to be gained from it.”
And Kai felt very stupid indeed.
His father provided slaves to care for him, but none that were truly his. The little skirmishes and raids he had led before had left him with other slaves that tended his horses and saw to his belongings. None like Suho. Kai had first glimpsed him as he had been led out of the temple, defiant against the hands tugging him, until he had been shoved down with the other slaves.
That pride had excited him.
It was not something he had wanted broken. He did not find pleasure in the beating of slaves as others did, nor did he want a talking bird to echo his wishes. Sehun, he trusted, as they had nearly learned to walk together. Sehun, to him, was more brother than slave, and Sehun had been lucky in that Kai’s father had no desire of men. They knew each other’s secrets.
Suho had had opinions, spoken back to him, and questions. And day by day he grew quieter, like a shadow that inhabited Kai’s tents instead of the man Kai had seen. Suho ate, grew no thinner. He rose before Kai woke, kept the tent as neatly as Sehun ever had. Sehun trained him well, and would not have treated him harshly.
Kai ducked under the tent flap, and met Suho’s eyes for only a moment before they were trained upon the floor again. All he saw was the top of Suho’s head, and the instinctive reach of Suho’s hand for the water pitcher, anticipating Kai’s needs. A quiet, obedient servant. It was surely any man’s dream to have that. And yet, Kai had always had Sehun, quick to joke, slow to smile, but warm to him. A home within his home, even if they sat and talked and got drunk together. Suho was like a statuette, a relic of a temple long past, cool to the touch, when he knew there was a living flame inside him. Suho saw to everything he needed.
But there were needs that Suho did not understand of his master. And Kai intended to show him.
***
When Kai knelt behind Suho that night, he could see that he was slick. At his word, Suho had begun to ready himself, putting down his mending. Kai did not go to him immediately, giving him that time - only to say that he wanted Suho’s clothes off, all of them. And that, he watched. The play of shadows on Suho’s back, the line of his hips and thighs as he knelt. Kai knew what he expected. Sehun’s words, that Suho might not even know what pleasure was possible, stole through him.
That somehow he could show Suho made him hard. Oh, he didn’t flatter himself that Suho knew nothing of the joys his body could bring. But there were so many other ways. And he’d been so unable to see - afraid that Suho’s lack of response meant that he hadn’t wanted anything Kai had done to him, would never want it. To know that, it would have soured in his belly.
Kai’s hand was light between Suho’s shoulder blades. He would not be his father. When he thought of Suho’s face, he thought there were things that could not be taken. Suho’s skin was warm and soft, and he squeezed Suho’s hips.
“Have you taken your pleasure with men before? Or women?”
“Neither,” Suho said, his voice quiet. “The temple did not allow it.”
Then Suho was unknowing of what two people together could do.
“The men at the temple, when they took you for your tributes. Did they take you like this?” Kai asked, beginning to press into Suho’s body. And Suho gave and gave. “Did they want you to be quiet so they could spend themselves?”
Suho’s answer was breathy because Kai had just buried himself inside him. “Those were the lucky ones. Others wanted us to scream. They said our prayers would be answered more readily if our suffering was- I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. But you do know pleasure, surely. No man is without knowledge of that.”
Kai watched Suho’s head bob, and closed his eyes for a moment as he enjoyed the heat of Suho’s body.
“Have you brought yourself release in this tent?” Suho made a sound but Kai wasn’t sure if it was agreement or not. He could imagine it. Suho beneath his sheet in the dark, while Kai slept. “Try to do so now, while I’m inside you. If your body will rise, let it. And don’t swallow the sounds of your pleasure.”
“You want me to-“
“Do as you will. But you need not be quiet. I’m not like those men. I want-“
Kai took short slick slides, encouraging Suho just by the motion of their bodies together. He licked his lips, staring as he watched Suho’s arm move.
“If you make yourself slick,” Kai murmured. “For every stroke I take, feel it. Let it find you hard to have a man at your back. There is no pain?”
“No,” Suho said and shook his head, and pleasure flushed down Kai’s body. When Suho spoke of suffering, he needed to know. He’d asked before, but every time was different. Then they could begin in truth.
Suho moaned, strangled quiet at the end, and Kai’s hips jolted forward. “Yes. Don’t quiet yourself. Don’t swallow your sounds.”
He wondered what would make Suho believe him. And he realized, sounds of his own would do. To show Suho he wanted to be echoed, chorused.
“Turn your face,” Kai said, and pushed him forward until Suho rested against the hard leather of the trunk, his face turned, profile bared to Kai’s eyes. But also his mouth. He pressed his face against Suho’s neck and moaned as he stroked into Suho’s body. “Let your fist go faster.”
Suho’s whole face tightened. He didn’t know if it was from pleasure, or embarrassment, but Kai could feel his stroking invigorate. It did two things, making Suho’s breath come harsher, but also his body tighten. It made it harder for Kai to keep control as he became drunk on Suho’s expressions.
And his moans. Kai took a hard thrust, and Suho’s eyes went wide, surprise low in his throat.
“You like that?” he asked, and got a sound nearly the twin of the first. He’d done it. He’d found the way Suho liked to be fucked.
“Let me see you. Come for me. Show me your pleasure while I am taking you.”
Gripping Suho’s hips, Kai took him hard, drawing moans when he went faster. And against Suho’s face, nearly in his ear, he whispered nonsense, encouragements and moans as desire rose in him as well. He could hold on only just, only long enough to see Suho-
Yes, like that. The trembling in his shoulders, the urgent movement of his arm, his closed eyes and gasping mouth. Another time, Kai wanted to see Suho’s eyes when he came. It would mean Suho would face him. He could see everything then.
Suho made a sound like a plea. Like he was so close to completion and he could not find it.
It was simple enough to tilt his hips a little more, short and quick, until Suho’s held breath released on a moan of two parts. But he knew Suho was coming before he heard, because he felt it - when he thought Suho could get no tighter, when he thought he could enjoy Suho’s body no more, he learned what it felt, and sounded like to be inside him at the height of Suho’s pleasure.
He was greedy, and it made him rut with the glory of it. And Suho’s cry when Kai finished in him only served to heighten his pleasure. He’d taken. He’d pleased. Had been pleased.
Suho had moved from him the moment Kai had pulled away, going to the water he kept prepared. Kai stood, his limbs heavy and satisfied, and waited for Suho to return. He watched with satisfaction as Suho knelt and wiped him clean with a warm cloth, just as he’d been taught. But when Suho stood, he looked startled, wary as Kai ran his fingers through Suho’s hair. Perhaps he thought Kai wished to take him again, and the thought wasn’t without want. He glanced at the floor where proof of Suho’s pleasure was drying, and satisfaction coiled in him.
“I will clean it,” Suho said, as though that was what had made Kai stop him.
“The red in your hair is fading,” Kai said, and let his hand drop. “Were there dyes you used at the temple?”
“Yes.”
“Tell Sehun tomorrow. He will get you what you need, or take you into the market to choose. The color suits you.”
“I will tell him,” Suho agreed.
“I’ll sleep now, then,” he said, and yearned for his blankets. The light at his bedside was snuffed out, and he heard Suho moving about - cleaning where they had been, and then himself. But he was asleep before the tent was quiet, too well satisfied to stay awake.
***
And Suho in the dark was throbbing. There wasn’t pain, despite Kai’s enthusiasm. His body had adjusted to that, at least, and the oil served to ease Kai no matter what he chose to do. But what he had felt at the temple - men taking without regard to his wishes or his needs - was so different than that night. Kai had not touched him, but he had spoken to him, urged him. He had never touched himself with a person so close. It was almost as though Kai had enjoyed seeing him lose control, hearing the sounds Kai’s body drove from him. Before, always before he’d been biting his lips, his tongue, to stay as quiet as possible. At the temple, some men would beat him for daring to make noise while they forced their bodies into his. Sometimes the oil hadn’t been enough to stop the pain. Pain that had made him feel like he was drowning. One time there had been blood. Or they would beat him further. But his body had never risen, never needed or wanted to. They had not cared that their vessel was enjoying himself.
Surely there had to be some pleasure found in knowing the human beneath them was losing all sense of control because of them. Kai had made him wonder more, at the savagery he’d displayed as compared to the almost languid strokes he’d taken nights before - at least until he was at the height of his pleasure. It was as though knowing Suho derived pleasure had invigorated him.
So the next morning when he took Kai’s dishes back to the tents after Kai had eaten, he looked for Sehun. Sehun was younger than him, but so much wiser in the ways of people.
“Could I ask you something?” Suho asked, kneeling next to Sehun as he worked to clean. “Something that no one else can know.”
“Yes?”
“It is about…sexual…” He floundered for a word. Acts, perhaps. But Sehun merely looked back down at the bowl he was polishing.
“If I can answer, I will.”
“Is it usual for a man to want his partner to… find enjoyment as well?”
Sehun laughed, and Suho’s face heated. It could not be that ridiculous a question from someone who had never lived in the world.
“I am not laughing at you,” Sehun clarified, when he saw Suho’s face. “Only, that is the second time such a question has passed my ears in the last few days.”
“Oh,” Suho said, trying to get his embarrassment under control.
“Only the first question was different. Because the asker wanted to know if a slave wished to feel pleasure when taken by his master.”
Sehun’s lips were curved, even though he was not looking at Suho, and the jolt was immediate.
“You told him yes?!”
“No. Some slaves would rather their masters take what they wanted as quickly as possible, with no regard to their needs,” Sehun said, thoughtfulness in his voice. “Others might endure pleasure unwillingly because it was urged. Still others might enjoy all of it, even tell their masters when they were wanting, urge him to take more.”
“And those masters want that? No man I have known has wanted anything but to pride himself in the length of his cock taking whoever is beneath him.”
The words said were hushed, but true.
“A man might want to see his bedmate’s pleasure for two reasons,” Sehun said. “Either to stroke his own ego in his skill as a lover, or because watching another in pleasure feeds his own. Though sometimes the two reasons can have part of the others.”
“Then it is not strange.”
“No. It is perhaps not usual, but it is not strange. Did you- Hmm. Would you not want to be asked to enjoy it?”
Suho wondered if his answer would find its way back to Kai’s ears, either way he answered. He wondered if Sehun had encouraged Kai, if that was what had driven Kai to ask him to please himself. He’d never known it was possible to feel that kind of pleasure when a man was inside of him. To answer Sehun no was to say he had not enjoyed it. It had been…not horrifying at first, but uncomfortable. As though he were exposing part of himself, leaving something too personal bare for Kai to command.
But he remembered Kai’s moans against his skin, as he had come after Suho had. And it had almost seemed as though there was a connection, a thread drawing from his pleasure to Kai’s. He’d felt like more than a receptacle, a means to an end.
His pause had Sehun sighing. “Perhaps you should take time to…consider it. Some things take time to learn what is needed.”
“You would tell him if I did not?” Suho asked.
“I could suggest to him,” Sehun said. “That is really all I could do.”
And he felt oddly grateful that Sehun could or would intercede on his behalf.
“But you urged him thus-“
“I answered his question. He made a choice. But you do not know it,” Sehun warned.
“No, I never heard anything,” Suho agreed. “I will think about it as you ask. If I need you to speak to him, I will… Yes.”
“Good,” Sehun said, smiling. “We have to look out for each other, sometimes. But you can tell me the good things, too.”
Suho heard the tease in that, and laughed. Yes, he could share the good things. But until he knew what he wanted, he would keep it to himself. Perhaps Kai had sated his curiosity, and would want to take as usual. Perhaps one taste, one possibility was all he would have.
***
Pairing: Kai/Suho
Rating: NC-17 overall
Genre: master/slave!AU, pseudo-historical, fantasy, smut
Warnings: issues of sexual consent, references to past sexual assault, violence, kidnapping, slaves having no ability to say no especially at first, and did I mention issues of consent inherent to master/slave dynamics?
Summary: They spoke of him as though he were nothing more than a treasure found by the roadside. He bowed to his new master because it was polite, and because he knew of nothing else he could do. See warnings.
***
Chapter One * Chapter Two * Chapter Three * Chapter Four * Chapter Five * Chapter Six * Chapter Seven * Chapter Eight
***
It was not night, but full daylight when Suho heard the first shouts of alarm and the warning bell rang for only moments before falling silent. Suho was frozen by the Pool of Silence, wondering what he should do. It was his place, protecting the inner sanctum. There were scrolls, a small collection of precious jewels, relics. But those were hidden. He protected the flame and the pools, not only those.
The sound of doors slamming open sent him into motion. There were rooms well-hidden in the interior, places he could hide, and if it was a simple raid, they would have no use for servants of the temple. They were simple men, who ate, and prayed, and Saw their visions. But he’d had no visions of this. The water had been disturbed, though, he thought as he ducked further into the stone walls. Perhaps that had foretold an attack. Unrest. But he had seen the same thing before storms, or before temple patrons came to take their due.
They brought their money, their food and tributes, in return for use of the bodies of the temple servants. Perhaps their prayers lifted quicker if they were spoken into skin.
There was no money, no coffers overflowing. All they had was stone, and water, and relics of times past. They had their bodies, and their storehouse of food.
Suho would rather the relics be taken than the food.
Suho turned a corner, about to head down further, and nearly ran face to face into a raider.
He knew that was what the man was. He wasn’t in temple robes, but leather, his hair unkempt. And Suho pivoted, racing down the hallway. If he could get to the next hall, he could find a place to hide. He kicked aside his sandals and ran on bare, quiet feet. Perhaps they considered Suho to be nothing more than a rat. The raider wasn’t running after him.
And while he still held that thought, he nearly ran straight into another.
But that time he wasn’t so lucky, caught at the collar and half kneeling, half-trying to hold himself up so that he did not choke.
“Please,” he got out, the only word he spoke before he was shaken, his shoulder slammed into the wall to silence him.
He stayed there on the floor, panting, heart racing as the other raider approached and he wondered if he was about to be killed.
“A temple whore,” the man said. “He’s claimed for Kai if he’s wanted.”
A rough hand grabbed his arm, dragging him onto his feet. The man was older than him by several decades, but his hold was strong. Suho belonged to no one.
“I am guardian of the temple pools. You must release me, or-“
A loosely curled first struck his cheek, and he gasped, tasting blood.
“A slave does not speak unless asked to. You will learn that soon enough.”
He was not a slave. He was not. He blinked back tears of anger as he was pulled along like a dog on a leash.
“My sandals,” he said, cringing as they approached them in case of another blow. The man at least waited for a moment until he could step back into them. It was a kindness, because they left the cool of stone and water, the fountains and pools he used to call his visions.
Outside there was brush, rock, and hot earth that would have burned him. His hands were bound, tied into a line of people like him and unlike him. He craned his head, looking for familiar faces. All he saw right then was fear, and the line of them began to move, pulled at the whim of some captor ahead of them on a horse.
He tried to pull against the rope, and was hit with a stick.
So he stumbled forward, walked. Walked until his mouth was dry and lips peeling. At the river, they were allowed to drink their fill and he drank until he could no longer. His knees and elbows were bloody and stiff, blood drying on his forehead from where he’d been hit above his hairline.
He was dirty, sweaty, hot. There was quiet weeping around him, others too exhausted, or afraid, to make a sound. He had seen herds of cattle or sheep, but he had never been in a herd of people. He’d heard of people being taken. Used as sacrifices or-
He could not bear to think.
He slept, jerking awake in terror several times through the night. There were guards around them, so the chance of escape was small. But worth considering.
But when he woke, they were fed - food from the temple stores, and water. And they walked again half a day. He had the luck of a hood, pulled up to cover his head and shield him from the sun. Others were not so lucky.
They milled to a stop as the sun was beginning to slide down the sky, and Suho could just make out tents ahead of them. Bright colors against the dull browns and greens.
“You,” the man said who had captured him said, cutting Suho free of the leading rope. He stumbled behind the man toward the tents and wondered what was meant for him, for the others. He longed for the temple pools, and knew he would not see them again.
***
The raider called Suho’s shadow the dark side of the moon, because of how pale he was. But he was an opal, lit by fire. Though his hair was dark, it glowed red in the sun from the temple dyes. They spoke of him as though he were nothing more than a treasure found by the roadside. He bowed to his new master because it was polite, and because he knew of nothing else he could do. Inside, logic told him he should bristle at being called “mine” when he was clearly his own. But he had been at the temple too long - the temple had owned him as surely as the man in front of him did.
“Your master’s name is Kai,” another slave told him. Sehun, he said his name was. “When we move camps, I am in charge of moving his things and getting him ready to go. Some of that you can take over. I am the slave of his father. Have you served before?”
“Only at the temple,” Suho said, as they ducked into a tent. It was not much cooler, but it was a relief. “But not like this.”
“You will bring him his meals, clean his clothes. I will show you what to do for a few days. You can always come to me. Better to me than to Kai. You can call him by his name between us. He will not forbid it.”
“And what do I call him?”
“I do not know his preference. I call him sir, since he is the son of my master. You should ask him. He is not a man who would beat you for asking.”
Then at least he was not that kind of man, Suho thought bitterly. The tent was not large, but it was split into two parts by panels of cloth. In one, a low table meant for eating, and in the other, a pile of blankets, furs, and rich pillows.
“We will build you a pallet so that you will be close to serve him at all times,” Sehun said. “I will teach you how he likes his bed constructed. He has several horses, but he has a man to care for them, so that will not be your task, though he may wish you to look in on them once you earn his trust.”
Suho felt ill just contemplating everything.
“We are nomadic,” Sehun continued, waiting for Suho to follow him into another tent nearby. “We stay as long as there is food for us, grass for the horses. Sometimes we stay in one place for a long time, other times we have to move quickly. We’ll find clothes for you here. You cannot wear those robes.”
It was a relief, in a way, to shed the heavy, shining robes. He was left in nothing but a gauzy undergarment at his hips that Sehun tutted at but didn’t require him remove. But the best thing beside had been the cleaning of his wounds. Sehun wouldn’t let him dress again until the scrapes at his knees and elbows were tended to - wounds he’d gotten trying to protect himself and escape during the raid. He wasn’t a warrior. Not all guardians protected with swords. He had been sentinel to the inner temple, in charge of keeping its rituals. But he imagined that was all destroyed.
They found protecting boots for when they would move, to protect him from cold, or heat, or anything else. There was also a pair of serviceable sandals for daily use. He put on the loose trousers, a thin shirt, and tunic that belted at the waist. Sehun had been selective, making sounds of disapproval until he’d found the right colors, right sizes. Suho wondered how many other raids had brought those clothes. Indeed, whose clothes he wore and if they were dead. Perhaps his master had killed them. He had not seen his- He had not seen Kai during the raid. A defenseless temple. Suho had seen the others only briefly, forced together with them - all shellshocked and afraid - and forced to walk. Until he’d been pulled aside, and Kai had inspected him. Inspected was the right word. He was one of Kai’s horses now, one of his shirts. Probably of less importance than the table he ate off of.
“Have you eaten?” Sehun asked.
“No.”
He was given a hardening biscuit filled with some kind of meat, and he all but swallowed it whole. Food, clean clothes, and no pain. But Sehun was still instructing him as they carried bedding for Suho to use back to Kai’s tent.
“Take a plate of food for yourself when you fetch Kai’s food in the future. You should be able to eat quickly as he does, unless he wishes you to fetch other things or serve him wine or tea. Listen for him closely. You’ll get to know his routines.”
For some reason that made a shiver go down his spine. He didn’t want to get to know anyone’s routines. He wanted to go back to the place he’d known as his home since he was ten years old. The cool stone and whistles and echoes caused by the wind. Even the ground in Kai’s tent felt hot, but that was where they placed his bedding. He was in a corner of the tent, just beyond Kai’s bed.
“I need to go prepare for my master, but take this,” Sehun said, pressing a metal flask into his hand. “It is oil. Some men enjoy preparing their partners, and some do not. But it’s best to have it nearby. I know some who have been through terrible pain.”
“Prepared for what?” Suho asked, unsure of what strange ritual Sehun spoke of then. As the words left his mouth, denial crept in. Surely Sehun didn’t mean-
“You are here to serve him in all ways. Including to lie with him in his bed, or in yours, or at the table, or while he bathes. But only if he asks. Maybe you can send a prayer that he will not, if your gods still hear you.”
“But how do I- I know nothing. I was a servant of the temple. I-“
“He knew that when he chose you. Your name means guardian?”
“But I don’t know how to fight.”
“Then guard him all ways you can.”
Sehun’s face held some sympathy, but also resignation, but still Suho asked. “How long have you been a servant?”
“A slave. All my life,” Sehun said. “You will learn.”
“Thank you for- Thank you for helping me. I will try not to add to your burden.”
“I won’t be whipped if you misbehave,” Sehun assured him, which didn’t make Suho feel any better. But he pressed his hand to Sehun’s.
And he Saw with clarity.
“There is a man who cares for you. A man who smiles at you. A cloth merchant?”
Sehun pulled his hand away as though Suho had scalded him.
“You must not do that here. People who have sight, they are sometimes feared. Killed, if they see wrong, or if they see bad omens, as if they draw the bad to them.”
The tickle in the back of his throat was almost hysterical. “But I come from the temple. What else could they have expected?”
“Not all from the temples have power. Tell no one, for your safety, and I will keep your secret.” Sehun looked at his hand again and shook his head. “Stay here until Kai arrives. If you run, you will be whipped. If you run again, you’ll be killed. I’ll be back after the bell for dinner sounds.”
And he left Suho alone, sinking to his knees and staring at the flask of oil. Prepare for something he might not need to prepare for. Sleep in the tent of a man he didn’t know. Serve a man maybe not worth serving. If he ran, he would not be caught, that much he knew. He’d been a slave to the temple.
Perhaps not much had changed.
***
Suho did not serve in Kai’s tent that night. Kai entered the tent and Suho watched him, furtive from the corner he sat in. Some part of his brain told him he should stand, offer his assistance as Kai washed his hands. Perhaps in being proactive, he could win favor. Stubbornness held him back, not a virtue he held by any means. It was beyond hope that anyone from the temple would come to see him freed. They were not warriors, and there had been many tents that he had been led past.
No, there would be no one to save him. Perhaps another temple, one day. He soothed himself with that.
“Stand and come closer,” Kai said, taking a seat in a skin-covered chair made of sturdy pieces of wood.
Suho did, fighting the urge to cower, to hunch. He stood as he had always stood, with his eyes averted.
“Sehun saw to your clothing. That is good. Do you find them acceptable?”
“Yes,” Suho said, and the end of the word trailed away uncomfortably, since Suho did not know how to finish it. To call Kai master seemed appropriate, but the word was not so easy to come.
“This completes it,” Kai said, and took Suho’s arm. Around his wrist, a cuff of metal and leather was wrapped. “This marks you as mine, that you belong to this tent. Do not lose it, or remove it. If you are found out of this tent without it, you will be punished. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” Suho said, staring both at the cuff and Kai’s hand on his arm. A possessive hand.
Sehun saved him from his inspection, as Sehun entered the tent and nodded at Kai before ushering Suho out. He watched with listless mind as Sehun showed him where the food was prepared, how much to take, how to take some for himself. He was to be spared nothing, and for that he could be grateful.
Even if it felt like part of him had been constrained by the addition of the cuff, he would not be withheld food.
Though if he angered Kai, that could change. He acknowledged that as he listened to Sehun, and then carried back Kai’s food - on his own. In the corner, he placed his own plate of food. On the low table, he put the tray - the bowl of thick stew, fried bread, sticky fruit. And from a skin of wine, he poured a goblet full.
“Your meal,” Suho said, and backed away from the table.
Kai hummed as he sank in front of it. “You did well. To your own food. I will let you know if I need anything.”
The food was good, but it did not feel satisfying in his mouth or his belly. Perhaps it was because he gulped it down, afraid of some transgression he had not committed, and how it would hurt him. Perhaps Kai could see his unease, read his mind of yearning to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Unlike the temple, he had no joy or fulfillment in knowing Kai ate because the food had been brought by him. Kai could have fetched his own meal. He was able bodied. And yet, he was born to be obeyed.
Sehun seemed to like Kai, however. In the way he spoke, he was not warning Suho from a cruel master. But if there was one thing that Suho had learned, it was that some slaves did not know there was another alternative. Whatever cruelty they were dealt was a way of life.
Kai stood from the table, and Suho stayed still indecision. When he is done, bring the tray to me.
But Kai ignored him, returning to his chair and his ledger, and leaving Suho to wonder. A word to indicate he was finished would not have been too much. But it was only when Suho stood that Kai’s head rose.
“You can take them.”
Granting him permission. It was not in him then to defy Kai. All he had to do was carry a tray, and walk back to a tent. He was being trusted. Tested. But he walked slowly, feeling the grass against his ankles and breathing as he stared up at the sky.
But Sehun was in motion, urging him in and taking the tray.
“I thought he’d fallen into the bowl,” Sehun said. “But you found your way back. That’s good.”
“When he leaves the table, he is…”
Suho would not say his name aloud. Not yet.
“He is usually finished if he leaves his food,” Sehun agreed. “Unless someone comes in to interrupt him. He will move it aside if he wishes to use the table, or just leave to do something else. You’ll learn. I don’t know his thoughts, but I think you did well.”
“I didn’t spill anything on him.”
“Or refuse to work.”
“Being beaten would not sweeten my position in life,” Suho said, and reached to take the pitcher of water that Sehun offered.
“Thats true. But you shouldn’t linger. If you have a question-“
“I’ll come to you,” Suho said.
He stared down into the water’s shifting surface in the light of the moon outside. He did not need water to call his visions, but it was part of his soul. It would be so easy, if he carried the water to Kai, to put something in his water to make him sleep deeply. And then, he could use the night to sneak away. But he didn’t have the knowledge to. The horses could be guarded, and he knew only how to ride the slow, aged horses that they used to pull their carts. To get away, he would need more than that. One, even two horses, to carry him further than any person following him could catch. He would need provisions, and a knowledge of the layout of the river of tents, more than the short distances between the back of one tent to another. More than only part of a day, and fear, would give him the answer to.
Kai’s goblet was outstretched the moment Suho ducked under the flap of the tent, and with his mouth pressed into a line, Suho poured carefully.
“I led the raid on the temple,” Kai said. “Did you know that?”
Suho shook his head, eyes on the cloth-covered floor.
“Yes. One of my swordsmen claimed some of the temple men for my family’s tents.” Suho inhaled as Kai’s fingers found his cheek. “You were not long in the sun. That is good. Sehun gave you a cloth for your head? You should wear it, or you will burn too easily until your skin adjusts.”
Suho lowered his head. He did not care of his skin, or being burned from the sun.
“Why? Why raid the temple?”
Kai stood, and Suho’s foot slipped back as though preparing to run. It would not help him, perhaps only make Kai angrier.
“Should I not have?”
“It was a holy place,” Suho said.
“A place of whores and scammers. There is nothing left there to return to. No holy men. The pools are emptied. The food, you may have eaten some of it tonight.”
Suho winced when Kai spoke of whores. “Do they live, the others?”
“No one was killed that I know of, but you were the only one brought here to us. The others will be sold.”
“But there were some with the Sight,” Suho said, and it made him sick to think of it. “The temple did good to the poor-“
“It is not your place any longer,” Kai interrupted. “For the sake of the temple, you were called upon to service men and their cocks?”
Suho breathed out through his teeth, but could not think of a way to deny it. “Yes. The temple relied on donations. Sometimes to keep someone happy-“
“Then the money was more important than virgins in the temple.”
“It was food in our mouths,” Suho nearly contradicted him, before lowering his head again. “And it wasn’t often. We fed many with that money and that food.”
“The patrons will see to the poor without the benefit of your body. Your mouth? Or your ass.”
The word shocked him, but he tried not to show it. “Mo-mostly by mouth. The other times-“
The temple oil had been spilled for their patrons to ease their passage and open their purses.
“Good. Then you’ll know what to expect.”
Kai’s fingers ran through his hair. It should have been soothing, but was instead possessive and quite nearly rude.
“This hair made you stand out. Red-haired witch among the others.”
Suho’s mouth parted to say he was no witch, but at least then, he was able to stop the sound.
“You have no further allegiances to that place of worship,” Kai told him. “I am the only temple you will be worshipping at now."
“Yes,” Suho said. And with the word sour in his mouth, he finished, “Master.”
“I should give you time to adjust. But I want your mouth on me tonight. If you are able?”
Suho nodded, and knelt, and kept his eyes closed and his mouth open. He’d done it enough to know what to do, until Kai came over his tongue.
The back of his hand kept anything from spilling from his lips and he stared at the floor.
“Prepare yourself for bed, and turn out the lights,” Kai casually ordered. “It’s been a long day and you should sleep.”
Maybe it was not as bad as Suho had feared, but it had not been everything. He could do that, if he had to. He just didn’t know what else he would have to do.
And the following night proved it, as he slicked his own body with Sehun’s offered oil and his knuckles turned white on the leather trunk he braced against as Kai took him from behind. And the night after that, and after that. It did not pain him as much as it erased him. All he had to do was prepare, and kneel, like an animal. He swallowed any sounds of pain or discomfort, and shuddered as Kai pulled from him. He was learning Kai’s routines, how to serve him, and please his body. And all the while, Suho learned how to clean Kai’s tents, fetch his food, and attend to his clothes.
It could have been worse.
He repeated that to himself almost every hour.
***
Kai’s most intimate concept of owning a slave came from growing up with Sehun. Sehun had been there as his playmate, servant, learning at his side. A boy needed that, his father had said, and it was better if the boy with his son was from inside his tents instead. It made him grow up strong. Together, they had matured. How Sehun treated his father, with deference and quiet, and how Sehun treated Kai was different. In many ways, Kai trusted Sehun more than even his father.
Being almost the same age and full of energy, there had been a number of fights. When Kai had been feeling particularly bratty, he’d pull out the fact that he was the owner’s son and that Sehun was just a slave. One time, that had gotten him a split lip for his trouble, and Sehun in tears. When his father asked, Kai had blamed it on his horse.
Because no matter their fights, or their difference in positions, Sehun was his friend. And if he had told his father that Sehun had lifted a hand to him, Kai could not have even thought of the injury it would have brought. Whipping, most likely, or even being sold. He imagined the betrayal in Sehun’s eyes.
No. He felt Sehun’s loyalty to him, and that loyalty was returned, even as they left boyhood and petty fights behind them. But Suho was different. They had no shared past. Kai could almost see the study on Suho’s face as he held back words or maybe even thoughts. When Suho was finished eating, he was kneeling and silent, waiting for Kai to be done. When Kai spoke to him, at least he had stopped cringing as though Kai would lash out. There had been accusation, not that Suho would lift his eyes to let it be seen. That Suho was there, and not in his temple of sins. Instead of many men urging him to please them, in Kai’s tent there was only one. And Kai felt he had been gentle as he had discovered what Suho’s body was able to take.
Suho’s face was angled and fine, his body fit. To Kai, he was infinitely attractive, and brought him pleasure in every way Kai had asked. But Kai’s experience with the pleasures of the human body were not like those with Suho.
Waking after another night of Suho silent and barely breathing as Kai had taken him, he was dissatisfied. It had had all the added excitement of using his own hand to find pleasure. And there was only one person he could ask.
“You and I have known each other a long time,” Kai said, and Sehun nodded. “Guarantee me this conversation goes no further than your ears.”
“Of course.”
Even with that guarantee, and the fact that he knew he wouldn’t have had to ask for it with how he knew Sehun, it wasn’t easy to speak. It was not a question that Kai could have asked his father. To those he saw around him, slaves were there to be of use. A slave of a man’s own, one that saw to his tent, often served to slake sexual desire, even among those married. He had lived his whole life that way, understanding that a slave would be his to have as he wished. If Kai had asked his father, he would have been given recommendations to beat his slave if he was doing something unsatisfactory. Somehow Kai thought that would not be Sehun’s answer.
“A man who doesn’t react when he is taken. What reasons would there be?”
Sehun frowned, as though it were some kind of trick question. “I suppose if the man didn’t want it. Or if he was in pain. Or if he thinks he should not react.”
None of those reasons being reality pleased Kai. But there was no need to be coy.
“I’ve asked if there is pain, and he said no. He makes no noise at all, only to ask if I need anything else when I am through.” And when Sehun cleared his throat, Kai was exasperated. “Please, speak freely.”
“Does his body…respond? Ah. Rise?”
Kai frowned. “I don’t know.”
“You want him to respond? To react. To… You want him to be vocal?”
“That isn’t something you can ask someone to do,” Kai said, and knew that at least. “I can tell him to moan, but I wouldn’t know if he wished it.”
And Sehun sighed, relaxing. “Then you want him to want your attention, to enjoy what you do to him? You must have care to his needs as well. Not that you have to see to it yourself, but to let him know it’s acceptable? He might not know you wish him to enjoy it, or that you would allow him to see to his own pleasure. Or that making sounds in pleasure or pain is acceptable. He might not know you would like him to seek you out if he is…needing. Or- As a slave, I have only been able to teach him to respond to your orders. To do his duties, to be quiet and respectful and there only when you need. So if he thinks all you want is a body to be quiet, a body to use and walk away from, that is all he would be for you.”
“It is just eerie. He has spoken his mind on other things.”
“Perhaps that is what men before you have wanted from him.”
“Has he told you he desires men?”
“He has not told me he does not,” Sehun could only say. “It is also possible… It is possible he does not know that there is pleasure to be gained from it.”
And Kai felt very stupid indeed.
His father provided slaves to care for him, but none that were truly his. The little skirmishes and raids he had led before had left him with other slaves that tended his horses and saw to his belongings. None like Suho. Kai had first glimpsed him as he had been led out of the temple, defiant against the hands tugging him, until he had been shoved down with the other slaves.
That pride had excited him.
It was not something he had wanted broken. He did not find pleasure in the beating of slaves as others did, nor did he want a talking bird to echo his wishes. Sehun, he trusted, as they had nearly learned to walk together. Sehun, to him, was more brother than slave, and Sehun had been lucky in that Kai’s father had no desire of men. They knew each other’s secrets.
Suho had had opinions, spoken back to him, and questions. And day by day he grew quieter, like a shadow that inhabited Kai’s tents instead of the man Kai had seen. Suho ate, grew no thinner. He rose before Kai woke, kept the tent as neatly as Sehun ever had. Sehun trained him well, and would not have treated him harshly.
Kai ducked under the tent flap, and met Suho’s eyes for only a moment before they were trained upon the floor again. All he saw was the top of Suho’s head, and the instinctive reach of Suho’s hand for the water pitcher, anticipating Kai’s needs. A quiet, obedient servant. It was surely any man’s dream to have that. And yet, Kai had always had Sehun, quick to joke, slow to smile, but warm to him. A home within his home, even if they sat and talked and got drunk together. Suho was like a statuette, a relic of a temple long past, cool to the touch, when he knew there was a living flame inside him. Suho saw to everything he needed.
But there were needs that Suho did not understand of his master. And Kai intended to show him.
***
When Kai knelt behind Suho that night, he could see that he was slick. At his word, Suho had begun to ready himself, putting down his mending. Kai did not go to him immediately, giving him that time - only to say that he wanted Suho’s clothes off, all of them. And that, he watched. The play of shadows on Suho’s back, the line of his hips and thighs as he knelt. Kai knew what he expected. Sehun’s words, that Suho might not even know what pleasure was possible, stole through him.
That somehow he could show Suho made him hard. Oh, he didn’t flatter himself that Suho knew nothing of the joys his body could bring. But there were so many other ways. And he’d been so unable to see - afraid that Suho’s lack of response meant that he hadn’t wanted anything Kai had done to him, would never want it. To know that, it would have soured in his belly.
Kai’s hand was light between Suho’s shoulder blades. He would not be his father. When he thought of Suho’s face, he thought there were things that could not be taken. Suho’s skin was warm and soft, and he squeezed Suho’s hips.
“Have you taken your pleasure with men before? Or women?”
“Neither,” Suho said, his voice quiet. “The temple did not allow it.”
Then Suho was unknowing of what two people together could do.
“The men at the temple, when they took you for your tributes. Did they take you like this?” Kai asked, beginning to press into Suho’s body. And Suho gave and gave. “Did they want you to be quiet so they could spend themselves?”
Suho’s answer was breathy because Kai had just buried himself inside him. “Those were the lucky ones. Others wanted us to scream. They said our prayers would be answered more readily if our suffering was- I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. But you do know pleasure, surely. No man is without knowledge of that.”
Kai watched Suho’s head bob, and closed his eyes for a moment as he enjoyed the heat of Suho’s body.
“Have you brought yourself release in this tent?” Suho made a sound but Kai wasn’t sure if it was agreement or not. He could imagine it. Suho beneath his sheet in the dark, while Kai slept. “Try to do so now, while I’m inside you. If your body will rise, let it. And don’t swallow the sounds of your pleasure.”
“You want me to-“
“Do as you will. But you need not be quiet. I’m not like those men. I want-“
Kai took short slick slides, encouraging Suho just by the motion of their bodies together. He licked his lips, staring as he watched Suho’s arm move.
“If you make yourself slick,” Kai murmured. “For every stroke I take, feel it. Let it find you hard to have a man at your back. There is no pain?”
“No,” Suho said and shook his head, and pleasure flushed down Kai’s body. When Suho spoke of suffering, he needed to know. He’d asked before, but every time was different. Then they could begin in truth.
Suho moaned, strangled quiet at the end, and Kai’s hips jolted forward. “Yes. Don’t quiet yourself. Don’t swallow your sounds.”
He wondered what would make Suho believe him. And he realized, sounds of his own would do. To show Suho he wanted to be echoed, chorused.
“Turn your face,” Kai said, and pushed him forward until Suho rested against the hard leather of the trunk, his face turned, profile bared to Kai’s eyes. But also his mouth. He pressed his face against Suho’s neck and moaned as he stroked into Suho’s body. “Let your fist go faster.”
Suho’s whole face tightened. He didn’t know if it was from pleasure, or embarrassment, but Kai could feel his stroking invigorate. It did two things, making Suho’s breath come harsher, but also his body tighten. It made it harder for Kai to keep control as he became drunk on Suho’s expressions.
And his moans. Kai took a hard thrust, and Suho’s eyes went wide, surprise low in his throat.
“You like that?” he asked, and got a sound nearly the twin of the first. He’d done it. He’d found the way Suho liked to be fucked.
“Let me see you. Come for me. Show me your pleasure while I am taking you.”
Gripping Suho’s hips, Kai took him hard, drawing moans when he went faster. And against Suho’s face, nearly in his ear, he whispered nonsense, encouragements and moans as desire rose in him as well. He could hold on only just, only long enough to see Suho-
Yes, like that. The trembling in his shoulders, the urgent movement of his arm, his closed eyes and gasping mouth. Another time, Kai wanted to see Suho’s eyes when he came. It would mean Suho would face him. He could see everything then.
Suho made a sound like a plea. Like he was so close to completion and he could not find it.
It was simple enough to tilt his hips a little more, short and quick, until Suho’s held breath released on a moan of two parts. But he knew Suho was coming before he heard, because he felt it - when he thought Suho could get no tighter, when he thought he could enjoy Suho’s body no more, he learned what it felt, and sounded like to be inside him at the height of Suho’s pleasure.
He was greedy, and it made him rut with the glory of it. And Suho’s cry when Kai finished in him only served to heighten his pleasure. He’d taken. He’d pleased. Had been pleased.
Suho had moved from him the moment Kai had pulled away, going to the water he kept prepared. Kai stood, his limbs heavy and satisfied, and waited for Suho to return. He watched with satisfaction as Suho knelt and wiped him clean with a warm cloth, just as he’d been taught. But when Suho stood, he looked startled, wary as Kai ran his fingers through Suho’s hair. Perhaps he thought Kai wished to take him again, and the thought wasn’t without want. He glanced at the floor where proof of Suho’s pleasure was drying, and satisfaction coiled in him.
“I will clean it,” Suho said, as though that was what had made Kai stop him.
“The red in your hair is fading,” Kai said, and let his hand drop. “Were there dyes you used at the temple?”
“Yes.”
“Tell Sehun tomorrow. He will get you what you need, or take you into the market to choose. The color suits you.”
“I will tell him,” Suho agreed.
“I’ll sleep now, then,” he said, and yearned for his blankets. The light at his bedside was snuffed out, and he heard Suho moving about - cleaning where they had been, and then himself. But he was asleep before the tent was quiet, too well satisfied to stay awake.
***
And Suho in the dark was throbbing. There wasn’t pain, despite Kai’s enthusiasm. His body had adjusted to that, at least, and the oil served to ease Kai no matter what he chose to do. But what he had felt at the temple - men taking without regard to his wishes or his needs - was so different than that night. Kai had not touched him, but he had spoken to him, urged him. He had never touched himself with a person so close. It was almost as though Kai had enjoyed seeing him lose control, hearing the sounds Kai’s body drove from him. Before, always before he’d been biting his lips, his tongue, to stay as quiet as possible. At the temple, some men would beat him for daring to make noise while they forced their bodies into his. Sometimes the oil hadn’t been enough to stop the pain. Pain that had made him feel like he was drowning. One time there had been blood. Or they would beat him further. But his body had never risen, never needed or wanted to. They had not cared that their vessel was enjoying himself.
Surely there had to be some pleasure found in knowing the human beneath them was losing all sense of control because of them. Kai had made him wonder more, at the savagery he’d displayed as compared to the almost languid strokes he’d taken nights before - at least until he was at the height of his pleasure. It was as though knowing Suho derived pleasure had invigorated him.
So the next morning when he took Kai’s dishes back to the tents after Kai had eaten, he looked for Sehun. Sehun was younger than him, but so much wiser in the ways of people.
“Could I ask you something?” Suho asked, kneeling next to Sehun as he worked to clean. “Something that no one else can know.”
“Yes?”
“It is about…sexual…” He floundered for a word. Acts, perhaps. But Sehun merely looked back down at the bowl he was polishing.
“If I can answer, I will.”
“Is it usual for a man to want his partner to… find enjoyment as well?”
Sehun laughed, and Suho’s face heated. It could not be that ridiculous a question from someone who had never lived in the world.
“I am not laughing at you,” Sehun clarified, when he saw Suho’s face. “Only, that is the second time such a question has passed my ears in the last few days.”
“Oh,” Suho said, trying to get his embarrassment under control.
“Only the first question was different. Because the asker wanted to know if a slave wished to feel pleasure when taken by his master.”
Sehun’s lips were curved, even though he was not looking at Suho, and the jolt was immediate.
“You told him yes?!”
“No. Some slaves would rather their masters take what they wanted as quickly as possible, with no regard to their needs,” Sehun said, thoughtfulness in his voice. “Others might endure pleasure unwillingly because it was urged. Still others might enjoy all of it, even tell their masters when they were wanting, urge him to take more.”
“And those masters want that? No man I have known has wanted anything but to pride himself in the length of his cock taking whoever is beneath him.”
The words said were hushed, but true.
“A man might want to see his bedmate’s pleasure for two reasons,” Sehun said. “Either to stroke his own ego in his skill as a lover, or because watching another in pleasure feeds his own. Though sometimes the two reasons can have part of the others.”
“Then it is not strange.”
“No. It is perhaps not usual, but it is not strange. Did you- Hmm. Would you not want to be asked to enjoy it?”
Suho wondered if his answer would find its way back to Kai’s ears, either way he answered. He wondered if Sehun had encouraged Kai, if that was what had driven Kai to ask him to please himself. He’d never known it was possible to feel that kind of pleasure when a man was inside of him. To answer Sehun no was to say he had not enjoyed it. It had been…not horrifying at first, but uncomfortable. As though he were exposing part of himself, leaving something too personal bare for Kai to command.
But he remembered Kai’s moans against his skin, as he had come after Suho had. And it had almost seemed as though there was a connection, a thread drawing from his pleasure to Kai’s. He’d felt like more than a receptacle, a means to an end.
His pause had Sehun sighing. “Perhaps you should take time to…consider it. Some things take time to learn what is needed.”
“You would tell him if I did not?” Suho asked.
“I could suggest to him,” Sehun said. “That is really all I could do.”
And he felt oddly grateful that Sehun could or would intercede on his behalf.
“But you urged him thus-“
“I answered his question. He made a choice. But you do not know it,” Sehun warned.
“No, I never heard anything,” Suho agreed. “I will think about it as you ask. If I need you to speak to him, I will… Yes.”
“Good,” Sehun said, smiling. “We have to look out for each other, sometimes. But you can tell me the good things, too.”
Suho heard the tease in that, and laughed. Yes, he could share the good things. But until he knew what he wanted, he would keep it to himself. Perhaps Kai had sated his curiosity, and would want to take as usual. Perhaps one taste, one possibility was all he would have.
***