[Fic] Guardian - 2/8 (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
***
For a while at least, it seemed lucky to Suho that he was kept busy without the chance to sit and think. Kai had been in and out of the tent several times and each, Suho had looked up for a moment, wondering if Kai had a task for him. It was habit in himself to look down, deference, but even more so after because he worried that Kai would see him thinking or worse, see want in him. He was no stranger to his body’s desires, though finding pleasure so close to a man, not once, but again the night before, and again that morning. Suho had eaten breakfast aching and strangely sated, but hungry at the same time. Kai was teaching him, even as he took what he wanted. He moaned against Suho’s skin and murmured his name, and even the thought of it had Suho’s shoulders tensing.
When he noticed Kai watching him, heat flooded his cheeks and he turned, focusing hard on the bucket so that he didn’t have to consider anything else. It squirmed through him, confusion, and there was no one else to talk to about it but Sehun. It felt strange to do that, since Sehun knew Kai so well, and Sehun had been such a help to him when he’d arrived and so many days after that. He wasn’t sure what he’d say, anyway. That he was having strange feelings about liking his master’s touch? It didn’t bring feelings of disgust or guilt to him, though he wondered if it would make him complacent, accepting his slavery because of a few nice feelings. Mostly, he’d decided it was his right. If he wanted to enjoy it, he could, and if he could enjoy it, it was better than hating every moment or feeling himself violated. There would be times, he was sure, that Kai might want something he did not, or when he was tired, or did whatever he wanted without thought to Suho’s body. But he would have the other moments, feeling Kai against him, learning what felt good to himself, what he wanted, what he liked. It would be something he would know for whatever future he would have.
Suho paused, half looked up as Kai stopped beside him.
“The sun will be harsh today,” Kai said. “Make sure you protect your skin from it if you go out.”
“I will,” Suho agreed, and studied the leather belt at Kai’s hips as he left. It had him shaking his head and returning to work. There was no room for thoughts like that.
But harsh, the sun was all of that when he went out of the tent to see what chores Sehun had for them to accomplished. The sun was in his eyes almost immediately, and he felt it beating on both of them and on the cloth they worked with. Long stretches of cloth and clothing were being hung to dry, buckets of water were being carried, and wood for fires was being stacked. He was too busy to think of being out long, ducking into the darker tents and hurrying to bring whatever Sehun needed. They had a lot of laughter that day, catching cloth caught on the wind, flicking water into each other’s faces. For it being work, it had been surprisingly enjoyable.
At least until Sehun had peered at him. “Your face is turning red.”
And it had not been from embarrassment.
Suho stared at himself in the water’s reflection and cursed himself. He’d thought of the cloth that Kai had reminded him of, but he’d pushed that away. Perhaps it had been his way of asserting himself, that he could make decisions for himself. There had been nothing that Sehun could do for him then. His skin had burned, he nearly broke a plate, and ripped the cloth of his tunic on a branch.
Suho’s head bowed when he saw the displeasure on Kai’s face. The whole time there, he could have rebelled, and he had not, instead doing what he was told, moving quickly, learning. He’d spoken back, but from way that Kai took his arm, he knew that Kai saw it as defiance.
***
To Suho’s credit, he had not tried to hide himself, Kai thought. Suho’s face was flushed pink, over his cheekbones, his forehead and the back of his neck. Even in the growing darkness that was easily seen. It looked painful and raw, and he had warned Suho against it. There was anger in him as he pulled Suho closer to see.
“Did you not listen to me earlier when I warned you of the sun?”
“I did not think I would burn that quickly. I didn’t mean to be out that long,” Suho murmured.
“Then you disobeyed me of your own purpose,” Kai said. If Suho had forgotten, or refused of his own choice it did not matter. “That cloth to is to protect you, and your skin.”
“I am sorry,” Suho said, and Kai was sure he was, both from the pain and the clear realization that Kai was unhappy with his choice. You cannot allow a slave to disobey, was the voice of his father nagging in his ear. And Kai saw Sehun on the ground whimpering, ugly stripes across his back for speaking out of turn in the earshot of his father. Kai stiffened at the unbidden memory, scowling at the way Suho stood like he was unsure, scared, like he would beat him, like he would-
“Does it hurt?”
He actually heard Suho swallow. “It does.”
“Then that is a lesson to you. But not the only one. Bend over.” Maybe his father would have been pleased, but the stick he picked up was not meant for beating men. It would do. “How long do you think you were in the sun?”
“Parts of three hours,” Suho said.
“Then these are for the hours,” Kai said, and slapped the stick hard against the backs of Suho’s thighs. Not as hard as he could, but the sting would not fade quickly. Suho made a sound of surprise at the first blow, but was silent at the second but for his harsh breathing. “And this is to remind you that when I give you an order, it is for your own good.”
That strike was lighter, because he saw the tremble in Suho’s shoulders. It was not easy for a grown man to be shamed so, to take punishment. Suho might look on him less favorably after, but there was a tremble in his arm as well. He remembered too many things, and he had no anger left to carry him as he poked Suho’s leg with his foot.
“Go find Sehun, and tell him to give you salve, and bring it back to me immediately.”
Suho rose stiffly, but hurried out of the tent without a word. He hadn’t wanted to harm Suho, only teach him a lesson. It was authority that he was still learning, and he barred his father’s voice from his head, kneading his hands together for a moment. His father would have sent Suho to his pallet without supper, and perhaps breakfast as well. Instead of shame, his father would have seen Suho in pain. That was not his path. He was not his father.
When Suho returned a minute later, Kai watched as he walked, stiff and upright, though with his head lowered.
“Kneel here in front of me,” Kai said, and took the offered pot from Suho’s hand. It smelled rich, and it was cool against his fingers. And Suho startled as Kai took his chin and tipped up his face. “This will take some of the hurt from the burn.”
Suho’s eyes closed as Kai spread the salve across his forehead, down his nose, lips and chin. His cheeks almost looked flushed but Kai soothed those, and Suho’s head tilted forward as he smoothed the cream there as well. He could have had Sehun help Suho, or ordered Suho to do it himself. But there was a line between discipline and care, and he wanted to walk it. If Suho did not truly believe Kai wanted his safety, then he would not listen to Kai in the future.
“My worst burn was when I was ten years,” Kai told him. “I took no covering, was on my horse half the day. They joked that I looked bloody in the light, and I screamed when I was touched. My skin blistered and peeled. You can still see marks on the back of my neck from that. Yours is not nearly so bad.”
Suho nodded, sitting so still and demure in front of him.
“You understand why I hit you?”
“Yes, master. Because I disobeyed you. And didn’t care for myself as you commanded.”
“Good,” Kai said, and felt a strange sort of relief when Suho did not cringe at the hand he put on Suho’s shoulder. “Do your legs hurt?”
Suho paused a moment. “Yes?”
And Kai could not help the laugh. “A wise answer.”
There was misery in the set of Suho’s shoulders that Kai wanted to soothe. He could not, he knew that, lest he mark himself as weak. There was danger in caring too much, and his frustration had passed.
“Make sure you drink water before sleeping. I will not add to your injuries this night. I want nothing from you. Secure the tent, and find your bed.”
Suho rose, and for a time, Kai watched him, until the watching made him want. He’d already promised against that. And the only sounds he was like to get out of Suho that night were of pain, not pleasure. So he slept, and dreamed.
***
The burn healed, as did the sting from the stick Kai had hit him with. It still sat in the tent, that stick. It had not left bruises, even, but just seeing it was reminder. It had taken a day before Kai had asked for his mouth, and another before Suho had uncapped the oil, but Kai had been almost gentle. Each morning and night, he sat for Kai, as Kai rubbed the ointment onto Suho’s skin. Every morning, Kai asked him if it hurt, reminded him to take his cloth if he was going outside.
Five days, until Suho had looked up and nearly met Kai’s eyes, and spoke before Kai could ask. “It no longer hurts. And I will do my best to remember the cloth in the future.”
Kai had spread the ointment, and they had not spoken of it again. But Suho had thought he had seen a smile tilting Kai’s lips before he’d averted his eyes and held still. Perhaps Kai enjoyed the thought that Suho had learned his lesson, or perhaps he enjoyed Suho nearly talking back to him. Strangely after being struck, Suho’s fear had not increased. If anything, he had learned a boundary - and that Kai was capable of care. Maybe he didn’t regret punishing Suho, but it would have been his right to have done more. Burning, bruising, anything.
Suho wondered if Kai would strike him again, if he forgot, if the punishment would double. He wondered if it would take only a word to put him in his place, Kai satisfied. He sat, in the moments he had where he was not moving, and he repeated to himself his age, his name. He had not always been Suho, guardian of the temple. Many had names of their past, secret names in their hearts given to them by their parents or a mentor. His name was Joonmyun, and he did not think there was one living on the earth that knew it besides him. No matter what, though he had had everything taken from him, he had that. And his fingers touched the cuff on his wrist, the metal and age-smoothed leather. It had been on him long enough that he nearly did not notice it. It defined him, a slave of Kai, but it spoke nothing of him, the one who had to wear it. Perhaps that was a blessing in a way, proof that though he belonged to Kai’s tents, he did not belong in them.
But Kai had a habit of touching that cuff as well, sliding his hand along Suho’s arm, humming as though he was pleased with what he found, at the impermanent mark he’d left on Suho’s person. In moments like those, Suho was glad that Kai had not wanted to mark him permanently - with a brand. Sehun had a mark like that, a white-faded scar that had been left on the outside of his shoulder from before he had been weaned. Not Kai’s doing, but someone like him. Suho bore the mark of his Sight, a water drop darkly marked into his inner thigh, but that was all.
“How long have you been in my tent?” Kai asked, letting go of Suho’s arm after Suho had cleared away their dinner.
Secretly Suho had been making marks in a stick kept beneath his blankets, so the details of the days and the way his life had changed were intimate to him. It did not surprise him that Kai did not know.
“Nearly a moon phase. Master.”
Kai hummed, looking up at him. “And what in this tent is yours?”
It took a moment for Suho to find his voice, the question a bit ridiculous to him. “Mine? The clothes I wear are yours, and I could work without them. My bed is yours, since I could sleep on the ground. The work of my hands is yours.”
Suho cautioned himself not to recoil as Kai stood, because he knew that displeased Kai even more than Suho speaking when he should not.
“Suho. I would not take your bed from you. Nor your clothes. Though I very much like you without them.”
Suho cursed his body, that Kai’s breath against his neck made it heat and fill. Each night of Kai’s urging his pleasure had brought him to that. He’d learned that making sounds when he enjoyed something was the surest way to see it repeated - not making sounds when he thought that Kai wanted them. When Kai was stroking his chest and brushed his nipples, his sounds had made Kai not stop until Suho had come all over the floor. Moment by moment he found out what pleased him, what Kai did that he liked. Kai had begun to touch him more, chest and stomach, thighs, shoulders. Kisses across his back and neck that had his stomach going tight. Instead of dreading Kai motioning to him, or telling him to be ready, he began to watch for it. At least, when Kai was against his back he found his pleasure. His mouth was still Kai’s to use as he pleased, without thought to Suho’s want. But it was better. Sometimes Kai would change his mind and tell Suho to prepare, and then take Suho with the taste of Kai still in his mouth.
All the water goddesses forgive him, sometimes he liked that most of all.
Kai’s hand opened in front of him, drawing his attention to the round copper coin in his palm.
“Do you know what this is?”
“A coin to buy with,” Suho said.
“Yes,” Kai said, and he pressed it into Suho’s palm instead. “It is your coin, to do as you wish. Take it to the market. Buy something that pleases you. You have done well. You will always have clothes and food and a place to sleep. But if there is something that moves you, you can have it. We surely have an empty trunk for you to put extra clothes Sehun finds for you, or the dye for your hair.”
It was a measure of trust. Not that Kai could not go through a trunk, but it was a hidden place, a personal place. With the money, Suho could buy a weapon if he so chose. Medicine. Poison. Though perhaps not, with the cuff on his arm that marked him as a slave. The coin was not of much value, more of a token. And still, Suho was thankful.
***
The coin felt peculiar in his hand as he walked, and he kept his hand deep in his pocket so that it could not be seen what he was touching. The last thing he wanted was for it to be taken from him, or stolen. Kai had been right. He had nothing of his own. The clothes, he supposed, in theory were his. But they could be taken away at any time. So could whatever he bought. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted, what the coin he had would buy him. He wanted another comb for his hair, one that wasn’t broken in three pieces. He wanted salve for his hands because they grew rough from washing. But he would ask Sehun about that, because perhaps that would be provided. He could buy cloth to work, or paper. But he had no need of paper, and no one to write to. He could write his own thoughts, but that seemed dangerous if Kai were to find it. What he longed for were scrolls, or bound books. Something he could pass the time between tasks with. True, he was glad to help Sehun when the oppressiveness of the empty tent grew too much, but his mind was hungry. All Kai had were dry ledgers and accounts.
Still, he eyed the fruit stall with interest. A cool piece of fruit on a hot day would be welcome. But he decided to find at least the price of a book. If he did not have enough that day, then perhaps he would be able to save his coin, add to it. At least he would have purpose to work towards.
But he never made it to the tent of the bookseller.
“You, slave. Stop.”
Suho thought at first the man was talking to someone else, until the man pointed at him. He stopped, not knowing what to do. As a slave, he had no way to refuse. Even if the man was not his master, he was a free man and above Suho in status.
Though he remembered Sehun’s warning - if a man tried to order him into his bed, or try to hurt him, he should run.
They were in the middle of the lane leading into the market. He could not be easily dragged away, and he knew there were some men who enjoyed harassing slaves away from their masters. It shamed them as men.
“I thought you were Kai’s slave. Where do you think you are going?”
“The marke-“
“Why are you skulking around with your head covered?” the man asked, throwing back Suho’s hood. “Trying to run away, I think.”
“No!”
“I didn’t give you leave to speak, slave.”
The slap from the back of the man’s hand was startling, and Suho had to scrabble at the cloth to keep from being choked as the man yanked the hood from his head and shoulders.
“Wrapped up like a little bird.”
“By my master’s order-“
“Quiet!”
Suho’s balance gave at the shove, sending him hard to the ground. He was still trying to get his bearings, gather breath, when the man’s foot came down on his stomach. Not hard, just hard enough to startle him and hold him down.
“Slaves don’t know their place any more,” the man said as attention started to be drawn. “Talking back. Running around like they’re free men.”
He’d been answering a question.
Suho looked up, and saw Sehun rounding the tents. He stopped short seeing Suho on the ground and wheeled - running. Running, Suho assumed, for Kai.
“You are not my master,” Suho said. His home was a tent a few minutes walk away. His place was serving Kai. His name was Suho. Maybe he owned not even the clothes on his back, but he owned that. Whether he was a slave for five days or five years, or the rest of his life. He owned that. All the interests he’d had before, the desires of his body, the food he wanted, those were his. They were not, could never be Kai’s. But until he was his own again, he had his place. And his place was with Kai.
“Let me go home.”
Not to the temple and the quiet stone and the pain and the indifference. To Kai’s tent.
“I don’t believe you’d go.”
Suho hissed as the man probed his pockets, not daring to move. Checking for weapons, perhaps. They were attracting a small crowd and his cheeks burned with shame and anger.
“Please. Let me go home.”
“Release my slave.”
Some of the tension left him at the sound of Kai’s voice, the command in it, and then the slimy slither of the man’s voice as he backed away from Suho.
“He was being suspicious. Skulking around with his head covered as though he was trying to hide.”
“His skin is tender from years in shadow, and from being burned. It was my order than had him dressed so. Release him. If he has caused trouble, it is my duty to see to his punishment. But I dare any to say he caused harm.”
Suho scrabbled for his cloth, clutching it to him as Sehun helped him to his feet.
“He speaks back without shame, child,” the man snapped.
“In protecting himself from you, he is protecting himself for me,” Kai said. “Do not touch him again.”
It was only by staring at Kai’s heels from where he and Sehun had drawn back to, did Suho realize that Kai was turning, moving, ignoring the man as he tried to argue back. Sehun grasped his arm and led him until he found his own gait, his own bearings. And then Suho truly began to breathe again, anger sipping at him in a way that he tried to soothe back. The anger felt better than the fear, but as he stared at Kai’s tense back, felt Sehun’s hand on his arm, there was gratefulness rising in him as well.
Kai and Sehun traded a look, and Sehun left them before Suho followed Kai into their tent. When Kai sat on a low stool, Suho knelt by him, fingers still twisting in the dusty cloth.
“Tell me everything that happened,” Kai said. “From the moment you left here.”
Suho swallowed hard, and began. How he had left, how the man had stopped him, and the things he had said.
“I tried to answer his questions, but he would not let me,” Suho admitted. Perhaps he had spoken back at Kai, but nothing close to the insolence that the man had accused him of. Even a child would answer when asked a question. Even a dog would.
Kai did not look less severe but nodded as Suho explained what had happened. “Some men bully slaves because they can. He knew if he had hurt you even a little more, I would have been in my right to ask for compensation. Maybe I should anyway.”
Kai touched Suho’s cheekbone, where the worst of the pain was. Perhaps there was a mark there. He resisted reaching up to touch it himself, though he winced if only to feel it.
“Would it create an enemy for you?”
“Perhaps,” Kai said.
Compensation. The man had held him down, searched him, and in his fear-
Suho put his hands to his pockets in panic. “He took the coin!”
It was blurted without thought, and then shame came after. The coin Kai had given him, trusted him to look after, and Suho had lost it. No, he’d had it taken from him. But the flush was still tinged with shame.
“That’s right, you were going to the market. What were you going to buy?” Kai asked, his voice going bright for the first time. And when Suho was silent, he prodded again. “Suho?”
“I thought fruit at first, but…” Suho exhaled. “A book. If it wasn’t enough, I was going to save it until I could.”
And then he had nothing. There was nothing to save. Just empty pockets. But there would be other coins, or so he hoped. For a moment he worried that Kai would forbid him owning a book, and then realized he could not worry of it. If he had bought one, and Kai had burned it, then nothing would have changed. It was not something he could have secreted away in a bush or under a pot.
“I forget you can read,” Kai said, and Suho dared look up at him. His eyes were thoughtful, and Suho looked down again. He did not seem overly angry about the coin, and Suho did not know what to think of that. Perhaps, the coin was of little account to Kai - he had given it to Suho and was therefore nothing to consider. He could have lectured Suho on letting it be taken. The coin was perhaps nothing to Kai, but it had been so very much to Suho.
“I can do sums as well,” Suho said. “It was required of us. I am lucky.”
“Yes. Not many such slaves can read beyond perhaps the name of their master. Anyway. Do not let it worry you,” Kai said as he stood, his hand briefly on the top of Suho’s head. “If he bothers you again, he will not like the consequences. I’m riding out now.”
Suho nodded, staying knelt as Kai left the tent. And then he went to find Sehun.
Sehun, arms deep in washing, gave a little smile as Suho stepped into the tent.
“You’re well?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
Sehun shook his head. “It was luck, only. I do not usually pass to the market at that time of day.”
“Then perhaps it was more than luck,” Suho offered. “Because you were also able to find Kai, who should have ridden away by then.”
Sehun hummed. “He would not have hurt you there in public. Too many eyes.”
“Men who bluster as he does are weak.”
“If you would have cowered for him, he might have let you go.”
Suho scowled at his hands. “It is not in my nature to fight, but the thought of that brings no satisfaction to me. But I will remember that next time. Pride is not hard to sacrifice when it’s wellbeing on the line.”
Suho stepped forward, helping to steady the rollers to squeeze water from cloth.
“Kai was angry,” Sehun said. “When I found him, told him a man had knocked you down in the market and was threatening you. He cursed and ran.”
The way Sehun was looking at him was so peculiar that it had his cheeks heating.
“He is a good master?”
And Suho wasn’t certain why he had posed it as a question.
“He is,” Sehun agreed. “Help me to hang these to dry, and I will help with what you have to wash also.”
Good. Something to keep his hands busy. He had some clothes of Kai’s, and the clothes he wore that were dirty from being on the ground, as well as the cloth for his head. Not much, and easily accomplished when there were two of them to share the labor. When the cloth was hung, he turned to Sehun who was standing relaxed, his face at rest.
“Thank you,” Suho said again, and wrapped his arm around Sehun. “I just need to tell you again.”
“Sure,” Sehun said, sounded embarrassed. “Suho… Would you…? The first day, you told me something when you touched my hand.”
And Sehun had told him not to again. “Yes? You want me to try?”
Sehun would not look at him, but he nodded. Suho licked his lips, and took Sehun’s broad hand in both of his. With his closed eyes he breathed, and he Saw.
“His lips are pink,” Suho said out loud. “He is sad to see you running away from him. Oh. Sehun. You were going to see him today when you saw me.”
Sehun’s face was turning red as he pulled his hand back from Suho’s. “Yes.”
“He wanted you to see him. He was anticipating you.”
“It can’t be,” Sehun said sternly, as though Suho was suggesting something that was untrue. “I am a slave, and he is not. Even if he came to my master and asked for my services…”
Sehun looked almost ill.
“One day? Could he purchase you?”
Sehun shook his head. “Slaves are usually bartered, fought for, or stolen. He would have nothing to trade for me. I wish I had never seen him.”
Suho could do nothing but watch Sehun move away from their conversation in his mind so that they could continue working. There was nothing he knew he could do, except perhaps help Sehun to see the man he wanted. It could cause trouble, and he knew it, as he ducked back into the tent. Still, being a slave there were things that could be done. He knew that. No one could tell Sehun he could not feel what he felt, even if his way was difficult. Perhaps he could take over some of Sehun’s duties, leave him time. But if the man was a merchant, he would be busy during the day as well. Suho sighed, and resigned himself to waiting.
***
Suho half wished he had reason to go to the market again that day, just to show himself, and perhaps Kai as well, that he could. Maybe it was arrogance, the fact that he found some security in knowing who he was even with the fact that he belonged to someone else. He could own that, own his reaction to Kai’s body, his attention to Kai’s pleasure. He could be Suho the man and not Suho the slave at times, and until that day he had nearly forgotten that.
Instead, he took care of chasing dirt and sand out of the carpets, and fetching Kai food after he’d returned from his ride. He ate too, quickly, anticipating that he would need to bring in the newly-cleaned clothing to store it, and making sure the lamps were adequately full. There were any number of little tasks to keep him occupied, most that he enjoyed. There was a certain joy in the solitude, as much as there was in turning his efforts in tune with Sehun. Kai was in and out of the tent that afternoon, trading few words with Suho except to point out something else for Suho to do.
It would’ve chafed, once. Mostly, it amused him to wonder what Kai would do if left to caring for his own belongings. Though even thinking that had Suho feeling into his pockets, as though the coin would appear again, like he had missed it in a fold of cloth. He could have had something, anything of his own.
The tent was empty when Suho ducked into it, the blanket he had beaten rolled against one hip. Kai had been right, as it had been well full of dust, but it was a dirty chore. He stored it against one wall, where supplies and his pallet were kept. And Suho frowned at the cream-colored cloth that was stark against his dark blanket. There had been nothing there that morning, and nothing before he had left on his chore.
He pulled the cloth off from around his neck, and knelt as though the packet on his bed would bite him.
“You’re being silly,” he told himself.
It wasn’t as though the packet was moving, and the only two people in the tent that day had been Kai and himself. He grasped a corner of the cloth and pulled, eyes eager, but unsure of what mystery would be revealed. More work, was a possibility, but his held breath turned into a gasp at the sight of a corner of folded leather.
The cloth came away with a yank, revealing a book wider than his hand and bound in pale leather. And then it was cradled in his hands, and held against his face so he could breathe in the scent of it. He didn’t know what the title was, what the contents were, but he was holding a book that he assumed not to be full of numbers. The smell was bitter, but it was sweet to him as he opened the book to the neatly-printed pages. It had been hand-copied and bound, a traveler’s collection of tales, and Suho made a low sound. The pages were more than two of his finger’s deep. He could hardly fathom it.
And the sound of horses outside the tent had him scrambling up, putting the book on his trunk and turning as Kai ducked through the entrance.
He bowed, because he didn’t know what to do, what to say, and he knew that Kai saw him.
“I see you found the book.”
“I did,” Suho said, and breathed for a long moment, stepping forward to take a wooden bucket from Kai’s hands.
“No thanks for it?”
“I did not know if-“
If he should, if it had been Kai, if any number of things.
“Yes, it was me,” Kai said, nearly smirking. “You answered my questions truthfully, so it seemed fitting. You’ve done well.”
Suho bowed his head that time. It was more precious than any coin to him, and he looked toward the book. “Thank you.”
He could have said it a dozen times, but the clang of the bell that announced the evening meal was ready had him jerking upright. He wan’t sure what made his face heat as he hurried to fetch the food, or why he found it so hard to look at Kai as he did. Kai had almost certainly chosen than book with his own hand, had it wrapped, and placed it where Suho would find it. Maybe he’d chased Suho out to beat the blanket just for that purpose. It made him want to laugh, and bounce a little, and block out everything except for the book. But there were duties first. The book was not something to see him forget his place. It was just as easily taken away from him as it was given.
He wondered if there was a smirk on Kai’s face as Suho gave Kai his food, and Suho ate eagerly, waiting for Kai to be done before clearing his table and bringing him the ledger he wanted. When the dishes had been cleaned, and Kai’s ledger closed, Suho prepared for their nightly ritual to clean Kai from his day.
“You touched that book with more tenderness than you regard even your food,” Kai observed.
Suho wasn’t sure what to reply, as he helped Kai from his shirt. It came away from his skin sticky with sweat, and Suho went for the basin to fill it with water. Cool enough to refresh without being chilling to the skin. Kai sighed as Suho ran the cloth over his back, wiping away the remains of the day, dust and sweat. The cloth smoothed over Kai’s arms, across his chest.
“That feels nice. It was too hot out there today, too dusty. I think even the horses wanted to find shade or plunge into the water,” Kai said. “I have half a mind to do that soon myself.”
It did sound nice. Even in the shade of the tents, the heat was draining.
“Is it strange to you?” Kai mused. “To clean me this way.”
“No,” Suho replied, and his voice was sure as he knelt and smoothed the cloth along Kai’s calves. “At the temple, it was considered as serving each other. It was a bond of those in servitude to the temple, and to their elders.”
Kai sat then, letting Suho finish cooling his legs, and to begin rinsing the dust from his feet.
“This will let me rest well,” Kai said. “I will have need only of your mouth tonight.”
Suho was both relieved, because he was exhausted, and disappointed. He felt anxious even with his newfound sense of self, and yet he could show Kai with his mouth as well, how much more assured he had become. Kai had given him a book, but Suho had gained more than that.
He did not hesitate, shifting the thin covering from where he had already washed, and stroking Kai with his hand.
“You seem different,” Kai mused. And when Suho did not respond, Kai hummed. “Him hitting you… He said you defied him. I thought it was excuse. Suho?”
He couldn’t even believe his mouth was opening. If Kai beat him again, so be it, but he could not hold it in. If Kai enjoyed another’s pain-
But he had not shown that. He had not, and Suho spoke.
“I belong in this tent. You are my master. I am Suho. It may be all I have, but no one can take that from me.”
“You felt as though you had nothing left before? I can see how you would. If I found myself a slave, I would cling to my name and identity as well. Is this life harder than what you had?”
Suho shook his head, eyes on Kai’s stomach. “In some ways. But not others.”
Even if it had taken him a while to realize that it was only his existence that was owned, not his soul.
“That’s good. At least in my tent you will never go hungry.”
Considering Suho’s lips had just parted around Kai’s cock, the laugh was immediate. Silent, but for a puff of air, but it was there.
“Was that a laugh? Suho, of my tent laughing? Perhaps it was good that you were stopped.” But Kai shook his head, so violently that Suho could feel it. “No. He should not have hit you.”
No, there was that. Perhaps another man would have thought his slave deserved it. It was that fervor, that had him dropping lower than he had ever gone, trying to take Kai deeper, as deep as his mouth would allow without choking. Letting the suction of his lips be tighter, as he dragged his head back, and hearing Kai’s moan.
“Will you be afraid to go to the market again?” Kai asked, and Suho nearly shivered to feel Kai’s hand on his head. But he rocked his head to the side, to indicate no. “Good. Care for that book well. When you are finished, take it to the bookseller and give him my name. You will be able to choose any there in exchange, except for the rarest ones.”
Suho stopped still, his head half lowered and lungs full. He hadn’t heard that right. There was no possible chance that Kai had just said that he could read the book on his trunk, and exchange it for another. And another.
“I thought that would please you,” Kai said. “But I didn’t think it would make you stop.”
There was slight censure there, among the amusement. Suho let his mouth and cradling hand move quicker, until his lips were sore and his tongue tired, but he gained strength from Kai moans. The hand on his head, fingers tight in his hair but not pushing or pulling, merely holding. For some reason it sent tingles down his back, his own body filling with need. There had been stirrings before, such a sexual act of course, but nothing like the throbbing he felt. He needed, craved, Kai’s end. To where he moaned, as Kai’s body shook and Kai came against his tongue and for his sucking mouth. He sucked in time, drawing out Kai’s pleasure, and feeling the flush of accomplishment. But he also knew there would be no release for him that night, but for his own hand under his blanket - after Kai had fallen asleep.
“That is the best you have ever done,” Kai said, his voice just a bit rough. “And all it took was a book.”
It had taken more than that, and he thought they both knew that.
When he pulled away, he felt wet drip down his chin before he could stop it. But Kai was there before he was, running his finger up Suho’s chin and then offering it for Suho to lick clean. He took Kai’s fingertip in his mouth, lathing it with his tongue, and for some reason the sound Kai made surprised him. He’d had fingers in his mouth before, to gag him, and yet, as Suho sucked on Kai’s finger, Kai reacted as though he were sucking on his cock again. It slid from between his lips, wet and clean, he watched as Kai crooked it.
“Much more of that, and I’d have been asking for your mouth again,” Kai said.
It made him feel oddly pleased, that he could accomplish that, and he decided to accept that feeling rather than scold himself. He considered Kai’s chest, his nipples. He wondered if Kai would like his mouth there. Only one other man had touched Suho like that, but the first squeezes that had almost felt good, had turned into painful twists as the man took him.
And remembering that cooled his arousal as Suho stood on stiff legs to take away the basin of water, and rinse it so that it could be used again the next day. As he wiped it clean, set it to dry, he imagined Kai coming after him, kneeling behind him and sliding his hand into Suho’s pants.
“It arouses you to please me?” Kai would ask, seeing how aroused Suho had been when he walked away. “Let me please you.”
Even just with his hand. The thought had him shifting, standing and tossing the cloth into the pile to be washed. But Kai was not watching him, had not come after him to make him throb. Instead, he was in his bed, half under the covers. And fast asleep.
It made him sigh as he carefully shoved Kai’s leg under the blanket, pulling the top up Kai’s chest. It was a strong face, even in sleep. But he looked deceptively young that way, his mouth parted. Suho blew out the hanging light, before he could think any more on Kai’s mouth. No matter his errant fantasies, Kai’s mouth was not for him. He was a slave. He wanted the books that Kai had promised more than he wanted Kai’s attentions to his pleasure.
Or he told himself that, as he crawled into bed and tried not to whimper as his body relaxed. He slept, unfulfilled, with his fingertips touching the book’s spine. There was that, at least.
***
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
***
For a while at least, it seemed lucky to Suho that he was kept busy without the chance to sit and think. Kai had been in and out of the tent several times and each, Suho had looked up for a moment, wondering if Kai had a task for him. It was habit in himself to look down, deference, but even more so after because he worried that Kai would see him thinking or worse, see want in him. He was no stranger to his body’s desires, though finding pleasure so close to a man, not once, but again the night before, and again that morning. Suho had eaten breakfast aching and strangely sated, but hungry at the same time. Kai was teaching him, even as he took what he wanted. He moaned against Suho’s skin and murmured his name, and even the thought of it had Suho’s shoulders tensing.
When he noticed Kai watching him, heat flooded his cheeks and he turned, focusing hard on the bucket so that he didn’t have to consider anything else. It squirmed through him, confusion, and there was no one else to talk to about it but Sehun. It felt strange to do that, since Sehun knew Kai so well, and Sehun had been such a help to him when he’d arrived and so many days after that. He wasn’t sure what he’d say, anyway. That he was having strange feelings about liking his master’s touch? It didn’t bring feelings of disgust or guilt to him, though he wondered if it would make him complacent, accepting his slavery because of a few nice feelings. Mostly, he’d decided it was his right. If he wanted to enjoy it, he could, and if he could enjoy it, it was better than hating every moment or feeling himself violated. There would be times, he was sure, that Kai might want something he did not, or when he was tired, or did whatever he wanted without thought to Suho’s body. But he would have the other moments, feeling Kai against him, learning what felt good to himself, what he wanted, what he liked. It would be something he would know for whatever future he would have.
Suho paused, half looked up as Kai stopped beside him.
“The sun will be harsh today,” Kai said. “Make sure you protect your skin from it if you go out.”
“I will,” Suho agreed, and studied the leather belt at Kai’s hips as he left. It had him shaking his head and returning to work. There was no room for thoughts like that.
But harsh, the sun was all of that when he went out of the tent to see what chores Sehun had for them to accomplished. The sun was in his eyes almost immediately, and he felt it beating on both of them and on the cloth they worked with. Long stretches of cloth and clothing were being hung to dry, buckets of water were being carried, and wood for fires was being stacked. He was too busy to think of being out long, ducking into the darker tents and hurrying to bring whatever Sehun needed. They had a lot of laughter that day, catching cloth caught on the wind, flicking water into each other’s faces. For it being work, it had been surprisingly enjoyable.
At least until Sehun had peered at him. “Your face is turning red.”
And it had not been from embarrassment.
Suho stared at himself in the water’s reflection and cursed himself. He’d thought of the cloth that Kai had reminded him of, but he’d pushed that away. Perhaps it had been his way of asserting himself, that he could make decisions for himself. There had been nothing that Sehun could do for him then. His skin had burned, he nearly broke a plate, and ripped the cloth of his tunic on a branch.
Suho’s head bowed when he saw the displeasure on Kai’s face. The whole time there, he could have rebelled, and he had not, instead doing what he was told, moving quickly, learning. He’d spoken back, but from way that Kai took his arm, he knew that Kai saw it as defiance.
***
To Suho’s credit, he had not tried to hide himself, Kai thought. Suho’s face was flushed pink, over his cheekbones, his forehead and the back of his neck. Even in the growing darkness that was easily seen. It looked painful and raw, and he had warned Suho against it. There was anger in him as he pulled Suho closer to see.
“Did you not listen to me earlier when I warned you of the sun?”
“I did not think I would burn that quickly. I didn’t mean to be out that long,” Suho murmured.
“Then you disobeyed me of your own purpose,” Kai said. If Suho had forgotten, or refused of his own choice it did not matter. “That cloth to is to protect you, and your skin.”
“I am sorry,” Suho said, and Kai was sure he was, both from the pain and the clear realization that Kai was unhappy with his choice. You cannot allow a slave to disobey, was the voice of his father nagging in his ear. And Kai saw Sehun on the ground whimpering, ugly stripes across his back for speaking out of turn in the earshot of his father. Kai stiffened at the unbidden memory, scowling at the way Suho stood like he was unsure, scared, like he would beat him, like he would-
“Does it hurt?”
He actually heard Suho swallow. “It does.”
“Then that is a lesson to you. But not the only one. Bend over.” Maybe his father would have been pleased, but the stick he picked up was not meant for beating men. It would do. “How long do you think you were in the sun?”
“Parts of three hours,” Suho said.
“Then these are for the hours,” Kai said, and slapped the stick hard against the backs of Suho’s thighs. Not as hard as he could, but the sting would not fade quickly. Suho made a sound of surprise at the first blow, but was silent at the second but for his harsh breathing. “And this is to remind you that when I give you an order, it is for your own good.”
That strike was lighter, because he saw the tremble in Suho’s shoulders. It was not easy for a grown man to be shamed so, to take punishment. Suho might look on him less favorably after, but there was a tremble in his arm as well. He remembered too many things, and he had no anger left to carry him as he poked Suho’s leg with his foot.
“Go find Sehun, and tell him to give you salve, and bring it back to me immediately.”
Suho rose stiffly, but hurried out of the tent without a word. He hadn’t wanted to harm Suho, only teach him a lesson. It was authority that he was still learning, and he barred his father’s voice from his head, kneading his hands together for a moment. His father would have sent Suho to his pallet without supper, and perhaps breakfast as well. Instead of shame, his father would have seen Suho in pain. That was not his path. He was not his father.
When Suho returned a minute later, Kai watched as he walked, stiff and upright, though with his head lowered.
“Kneel here in front of me,” Kai said, and took the offered pot from Suho’s hand. It smelled rich, and it was cool against his fingers. And Suho startled as Kai took his chin and tipped up his face. “This will take some of the hurt from the burn.”
Suho’s eyes closed as Kai spread the salve across his forehead, down his nose, lips and chin. His cheeks almost looked flushed but Kai soothed those, and Suho’s head tilted forward as he smoothed the cream there as well. He could have had Sehun help Suho, or ordered Suho to do it himself. But there was a line between discipline and care, and he wanted to walk it. If Suho did not truly believe Kai wanted his safety, then he would not listen to Kai in the future.
“My worst burn was when I was ten years,” Kai told him. “I took no covering, was on my horse half the day. They joked that I looked bloody in the light, and I screamed when I was touched. My skin blistered and peeled. You can still see marks on the back of my neck from that. Yours is not nearly so bad.”
Suho nodded, sitting so still and demure in front of him.
“You understand why I hit you?”
“Yes, master. Because I disobeyed you. And didn’t care for myself as you commanded.”
“Good,” Kai said, and felt a strange sort of relief when Suho did not cringe at the hand he put on Suho’s shoulder. “Do your legs hurt?”
Suho paused a moment. “Yes?”
And Kai could not help the laugh. “A wise answer.”
There was misery in the set of Suho’s shoulders that Kai wanted to soothe. He could not, he knew that, lest he mark himself as weak. There was danger in caring too much, and his frustration had passed.
“Make sure you drink water before sleeping. I will not add to your injuries this night. I want nothing from you. Secure the tent, and find your bed.”
Suho rose, and for a time, Kai watched him, until the watching made him want. He’d already promised against that. And the only sounds he was like to get out of Suho that night were of pain, not pleasure. So he slept, and dreamed.
***
The burn healed, as did the sting from the stick Kai had hit him with. It still sat in the tent, that stick. It had not left bruises, even, but just seeing it was reminder. It had taken a day before Kai had asked for his mouth, and another before Suho had uncapped the oil, but Kai had been almost gentle. Each morning and night, he sat for Kai, as Kai rubbed the ointment onto Suho’s skin. Every morning, Kai asked him if it hurt, reminded him to take his cloth if he was going outside.
Five days, until Suho had looked up and nearly met Kai’s eyes, and spoke before Kai could ask. “It no longer hurts. And I will do my best to remember the cloth in the future.”
Kai had spread the ointment, and they had not spoken of it again. But Suho had thought he had seen a smile tilting Kai’s lips before he’d averted his eyes and held still. Perhaps Kai enjoyed the thought that Suho had learned his lesson, or perhaps he enjoyed Suho nearly talking back to him. Strangely after being struck, Suho’s fear had not increased. If anything, he had learned a boundary - and that Kai was capable of care. Maybe he didn’t regret punishing Suho, but it would have been his right to have done more. Burning, bruising, anything.
Suho wondered if Kai would strike him again, if he forgot, if the punishment would double. He wondered if it would take only a word to put him in his place, Kai satisfied. He sat, in the moments he had where he was not moving, and he repeated to himself his age, his name. He had not always been Suho, guardian of the temple. Many had names of their past, secret names in their hearts given to them by their parents or a mentor. His name was Joonmyun, and he did not think there was one living on the earth that knew it besides him. No matter what, though he had had everything taken from him, he had that. And his fingers touched the cuff on his wrist, the metal and age-smoothed leather. It had been on him long enough that he nearly did not notice it. It defined him, a slave of Kai, but it spoke nothing of him, the one who had to wear it. Perhaps that was a blessing in a way, proof that though he belonged to Kai’s tents, he did not belong in them.
But Kai had a habit of touching that cuff as well, sliding his hand along Suho’s arm, humming as though he was pleased with what he found, at the impermanent mark he’d left on Suho’s person. In moments like those, Suho was glad that Kai had not wanted to mark him permanently - with a brand. Sehun had a mark like that, a white-faded scar that had been left on the outside of his shoulder from before he had been weaned. Not Kai’s doing, but someone like him. Suho bore the mark of his Sight, a water drop darkly marked into his inner thigh, but that was all.
“How long have you been in my tent?” Kai asked, letting go of Suho’s arm after Suho had cleared away their dinner.
Secretly Suho had been making marks in a stick kept beneath his blankets, so the details of the days and the way his life had changed were intimate to him. It did not surprise him that Kai did not know.
“Nearly a moon phase. Master.”
Kai hummed, looking up at him. “And what in this tent is yours?”
It took a moment for Suho to find his voice, the question a bit ridiculous to him. “Mine? The clothes I wear are yours, and I could work without them. My bed is yours, since I could sleep on the ground. The work of my hands is yours.”
Suho cautioned himself not to recoil as Kai stood, because he knew that displeased Kai even more than Suho speaking when he should not.
“Suho. I would not take your bed from you. Nor your clothes. Though I very much like you without them.”
Suho cursed his body, that Kai’s breath against his neck made it heat and fill. Each night of Kai’s urging his pleasure had brought him to that. He’d learned that making sounds when he enjoyed something was the surest way to see it repeated - not making sounds when he thought that Kai wanted them. When Kai was stroking his chest and brushed his nipples, his sounds had made Kai not stop until Suho had come all over the floor. Moment by moment he found out what pleased him, what Kai did that he liked. Kai had begun to touch him more, chest and stomach, thighs, shoulders. Kisses across his back and neck that had his stomach going tight. Instead of dreading Kai motioning to him, or telling him to be ready, he began to watch for it. At least, when Kai was against his back he found his pleasure. His mouth was still Kai’s to use as he pleased, without thought to Suho’s want. But it was better. Sometimes Kai would change his mind and tell Suho to prepare, and then take Suho with the taste of Kai still in his mouth.
All the water goddesses forgive him, sometimes he liked that most of all.
Kai’s hand opened in front of him, drawing his attention to the round copper coin in his palm.
“Do you know what this is?”
“A coin to buy with,” Suho said.
“Yes,” Kai said, and he pressed it into Suho’s palm instead. “It is your coin, to do as you wish. Take it to the market. Buy something that pleases you. You have done well. You will always have clothes and food and a place to sleep. But if there is something that moves you, you can have it. We surely have an empty trunk for you to put extra clothes Sehun finds for you, or the dye for your hair.”
It was a measure of trust. Not that Kai could not go through a trunk, but it was a hidden place, a personal place. With the money, Suho could buy a weapon if he so chose. Medicine. Poison. Though perhaps not, with the cuff on his arm that marked him as a slave. The coin was not of much value, more of a token. And still, Suho was thankful.
***
The coin felt peculiar in his hand as he walked, and he kept his hand deep in his pocket so that it could not be seen what he was touching. The last thing he wanted was for it to be taken from him, or stolen. Kai had been right. He had nothing of his own. The clothes, he supposed, in theory were his. But they could be taken away at any time. So could whatever he bought. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted, what the coin he had would buy him. He wanted another comb for his hair, one that wasn’t broken in three pieces. He wanted salve for his hands because they grew rough from washing. But he would ask Sehun about that, because perhaps that would be provided. He could buy cloth to work, or paper. But he had no need of paper, and no one to write to. He could write his own thoughts, but that seemed dangerous if Kai were to find it. What he longed for were scrolls, or bound books. Something he could pass the time between tasks with. True, he was glad to help Sehun when the oppressiveness of the empty tent grew too much, but his mind was hungry. All Kai had were dry ledgers and accounts.
Still, he eyed the fruit stall with interest. A cool piece of fruit on a hot day would be welcome. But he decided to find at least the price of a book. If he did not have enough that day, then perhaps he would be able to save his coin, add to it. At least he would have purpose to work towards.
But he never made it to the tent of the bookseller.
“You, slave. Stop.”
Suho thought at first the man was talking to someone else, until the man pointed at him. He stopped, not knowing what to do. As a slave, he had no way to refuse. Even if the man was not his master, he was a free man and above Suho in status.
Though he remembered Sehun’s warning - if a man tried to order him into his bed, or try to hurt him, he should run.
They were in the middle of the lane leading into the market. He could not be easily dragged away, and he knew there were some men who enjoyed harassing slaves away from their masters. It shamed them as men.
“I thought you were Kai’s slave. Where do you think you are going?”
“The marke-“
“Why are you skulking around with your head covered?” the man asked, throwing back Suho’s hood. “Trying to run away, I think.”
“No!”
“I didn’t give you leave to speak, slave.”
The slap from the back of the man’s hand was startling, and Suho had to scrabble at the cloth to keep from being choked as the man yanked the hood from his head and shoulders.
“Wrapped up like a little bird.”
“By my master’s order-“
“Quiet!”
Suho’s balance gave at the shove, sending him hard to the ground. He was still trying to get his bearings, gather breath, when the man’s foot came down on his stomach. Not hard, just hard enough to startle him and hold him down.
“Slaves don’t know their place any more,” the man said as attention started to be drawn. “Talking back. Running around like they’re free men.”
He’d been answering a question.
Suho looked up, and saw Sehun rounding the tents. He stopped short seeing Suho on the ground and wheeled - running. Running, Suho assumed, for Kai.
“You are not my master,” Suho said. His home was a tent a few minutes walk away. His place was serving Kai. His name was Suho. Maybe he owned not even the clothes on his back, but he owned that. Whether he was a slave for five days or five years, or the rest of his life. He owned that. All the interests he’d had before, the desires of his body, the food he wanted, those were his. They were not, could never be Kai’s. But until he was his own again, he had his place. And his place was with Kai.
“Let me go home.”
Not to the temple and the quiet stone and the pain and the indifference. To Kai’s tent.
“I don’t believe you’d go.”
Suho hissed as the man probed his pockets, not daring to move. Checking for weapons, perhaps. They were attracting a small crowd and his cheeks burned with shame and anger.
“Please. Let me go home.”
“Release my slave.”
Some of the tension left him at the sound of Kai’s voice, the command in it, and then the slimy slither of the man’s voice as he backed away from Suho.
“He was being suspicious. Skulking around with his head covered as though he was trying to hide.”
“His skin is tender from years in shadow, and from being burned. It was my order than had him dressed so. Release him. If he has caused trouble, it is my duty to see to his punishment. But I dare any to say he caused harm.”
Suho scrabbled for his cloth, clutching it to him as Sehun helped him to his feet.
“He speaks back without shame, child,” the man snapped.
“In protecting himself from you, he is protecting himself for me,” Kai said. “Do not touch him again.”
It was only by staring at Kai’s heels from where he and Sehun had drawn back to, did Suho realize that Kai was turning, moving, ignoring the man as he tried to argue back. Sehun grasped his arm and led him until he found his own gait, his own bearings. And then Suho truly began to breathe again, anger sipping at him in a way that he tried to soothe back. The anger felt better than the fear, but as he stared at Kai’s tense back, felt Sehun’s hand on his arm, there was gratefulness rising in him as well.
Kai and Sehun traded a look, and Sehun left them before Suho followed Kai into their tent. When Kai sat on a low stool, Suho knelt by him, fingers still twisting in the dusty cloth.
“Tell me everything that happened,” Kai said. “From the moment you left here.”
Suho swallowed hard, and began. How he had left, how the man had stopped him, and the things he had said.
“I tried to answer his questions, but he would not let me,” Suho admitted. Perhaps he had spoken back at Kai, but nothing close to the insolence that the man had accused him of. Even a child would answer when asked a question. Even a dog would.
Kai did not look less severe but nodded as Suho explained what had happened. “Some men bully slaves because they can. He knew if he had hurt you even a little more, I would have been in my right to ask for compensation. Maybe I should anyway.”
Kai touched Suho’s cheekbone, where the worst of the pain was. Perhaps there was a mark there. He resisted reaching up to touch it himself, though he winced if only to feel it.
“Would it create an enemy for you?”
“Perhaps,” Kai said.
Compensation. The man had held him down, searched him, and in his fear-
Suho put his hands to his pockets in panic. “He took the coin!”
It was blurted without thought, and then shame came after. The coin Kai had given him, trusted him to look after, and Suho had lost it. No, he’d had it taken from him. But the flush was still tinged with shame.
“That’s right, you were going to the market. What were you going to buy?” Kai asked, his voice going bright for the first time. And when Suho was silent, he prodded again. “Suho?”
“I thought fruit at first, but…” Suho exhaled. “A book. If it wasn’t enough, I was going to save it until I could.”
And then he had nothing. There was nothing to save. Just empty pockets. But there would be other coins, or so he hoped. For a moment he worried that Kai would forbid him owning a book, and then realized he could not worry of it. If he had bought one, and Kai had burned it, then nothing would have changed. It was not something he could have secreted away in a bush or under a pot.
“I forget you can read,” Kai said, and Suho dared look up at him. His eyes were thoughtful, and Suho looked down again. He did not seem overly angry about the coin, and Suho did not know what to think of that. Perhaps, the coin was of little account to Kai - he had given it to Suho and was therefore nothing to consider. He could have lectured Suho on letting it be taken. The coin was perhaps nothing to Kai, but it had been so very much to Suho.
“I can do sums as well,” Suho said. “It was required of us. I am lucky.”
“Yes. Not many such slaves can read beyond perhaps the name of their master. Anyway. Do not let it worry you,” Kai said as he stood, his hand briefly on the top of Suho’s head. “If he bothers you again, he will not like the consequences. I’m riding out now.”
Suho nodded, staying knelt as Kai left the tent. And then he went to find Sehun.
Sehun, arms deep in washing, gave a little smile as Suho stepped into the tent.
“You’re well?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
Sehun shook his head. “It was luck, only. I do not usually pass to the market at that time of day.”
“Then perhaps it was more than luck,” Suho offered. “Because you were also able to find Kai, who should have ridden away by then.”
Sehun hummed. “He would not have hurt you there in public. Too many eyes.”
“Men who bluster as he does are weak.”
“If you would have cowered for him, he might have let you go.”
Suho scowled at his hands. “It is not in my nature to fight, but the thought of that brings no satisfaction to me. But I will remember that next time. Pride is not hard to sacrifice when it’s wellbeing on the line.”
Suho stepped forward, helping to steady the rollers to squeeze water from cloth.
“Kai was angry,” Sehun said. “When I found him, told him a man had knocked you down in the market and was threatening you. He cursed and ran.”
The way Sehun was looking at him was so peculiar that it had his cheeks heating.
“He is a good master?”
And Suho wasn’t certain why he had posed it as a question.
“He is,” Sehun agreed. “Help me to hang these to dry, and I will help with what you have to wash also.”
Good. Something to keep his hands busy. He had some clothes of Kai’s, and the clothes he wore that were dirty from being on the ground, as well as the cloth for his head. Not much, and easily accomplished when there were two of them to share the labor. When the cloth was hung, he turned to Sehun who was standing relaxed, his face at rest.
“Thank you,” Suho said again, and wrapped his arm around Sehun. “I just need to tell you again.”
“Sure,” Sehun said, sounded embarrassed. “Suho… Would you…? The first day, you told me something when you touched my hand.”
And Sehun had told him not to again. “Yes? You want me to try?”
Sehun would not look at him, but he nodded. Suho licked his lips, and took Sehun’s broad hand in both of his. With his closed eyes he breathed, and he Saw.
“His lips are pink,” Suho said out loud. “He is sad to see you running away from him. Oh. Sehun. You were going to see him today when you saw me.”
Sehun’s face was turning red as he pulled his hand back from Suho’s. “Yes.”
“He wanted you to see him. He was anticipating you.”
“It can’t be,” Sehun said sternly, as though Suho was suggesting something that was untrue. “I am a slave, and he is not. Even if he came to my master and asked for my services…”
Sehun looked almost ill.
“One day? Could he purchase you?”
Sehun shook his head. “Slaves are usually bartered, fought for, or stolen. He would have nothing to trade for me. I wish I had never seen him.”
Suho could do nothing but watch Sehun move away from their conversation in his mind so that they could continue working. There was nothing he knew he could do, except perhaps help Sehun to see the man he wanted. It could cause trouble, and he knew it, as he ducked back into the tent. Still, being a slave there were things that could be done. He knew that. No one could tell Sehun he could not feel what he felt, even if his way was difficult. Perhaps he could take over some of Sehun’s duties, leave him time. But if the man was a merchant, he would be busy during the day as well. Suho sighed, and resigned himself to waiting.
***
Suho half wished he had reason to go to the market again that day, just to show himself, and perhaps Kai as well, that he could. Maybe it was arrogance, the fact that he found some security in knowing who he was even with the fact that he belonged to someone else. He could own that, own his reaction to Kai’s body, his attention to Kai’s pleasure. He could be Suho the man and not Suho the slave at times, and until that day he had nearly forgotten that.
Instead, he took care of chasing dirt and sand out of the carpets, and fetching Kai food after he’d returned from his ride. He ate too, quickly, anticipating that he would need to bring in the newly-cleaned clothing to store it, and making sure the lamps were adequately full. There were any number of little tasks to keep him occupied, most that he enjoyed. There was a certain joy in the solitude, as much as there was in turning his efforts in tune with Sehun. Kai was in and out of the tent that afternoon, trading few words with Suho except to point out something else for Suho to do.
It would’ve chafed, once. Mostly, it amused him to wonder what Kai would do if left to caring for his own belongings. Though even thinking that had Suho feeling into his pockets, as though the coin would appear again, like he had missed it in a fold of cloth. He could have had something, anything of his own.
The tent was empty when Suho ducked into it, the blanket he had beaten rolled against one hip. Kai had been right, as it had been well full of dust, but it was a dirty chore. He stored it against one wall, where supplies and his pallet were kept. And Suho frowned at the cream-colored cloth that was stark against his dark blanket. There had been nothing there that morning, and nothing before he had left on his chore.
He pulled the cloth off from around his neck, and knelt as though the packet on his bed would bite him.
“You’re being silly,” he told himself.
It wasn’t as though the packet was moving, and the only two people in the tent that day had been Kai and himself. He grasped a corner of the cloth and pulled, eyes eager, but unsure of what mystery would be revealed. More work, was a possibility, but his held breath turned into a gasp at the sight of a corner of folded leather.
The cloth came away with a yank, revealing a book wider than his hand and bound in pale leather. And then it was cradled in his hands, and held against his face so he could breathe in the scent of it. He didn’t know what the title was, what the contents were, but he was holding a book that he assumed not to be full of numbers. The smell was bitter, but it was sweet to him as he opened the book to the neatly-printed pages. It had been hand-copied and bound, a traveler’s collection of tales, and Suho made a low sound. The pages were more than two of his finger’s deep. He could hardly fathom it.
And the sound of horses outside the tent had him scrambling up, putting the book on his trunk and turning as Kai ducked through the entrance.
He bowed, because he didn’t know what to do, what to say, and he knew that Kai saw him.
“I see you found the book.”
“I did,” Suho said, and breathed for a long moment, stepping forward to take a wooden bucket from Kai’s hands.
“No thanks for it?”
“I did not know if-“
If he should, if it had been Kai, if any number of things.
“Yes, it was me,” Kai said, nearly smirking. “You answered my questions truthfully, so it seemed fitting. You’ve done well.”
Suho bowed his head that time. It was more precious than any coin to him, and he looked toward the book. “Thank you.”
He could have said it a dozen times, but the clang of the bell that announced the evening meal was ready had him jerking upright. He wan’t sure what made his face heat as he hurried to fetch the food, or why he found it so hard to look at Kai as he did. Kai had almost certainly chosen than book with his own hand, had it wrapped, and placed it where Suho would find it. Maybe he’d chased Suho out to beat the blanket just for that purpose. It made him want to laugh, and bounce a little, and block out everything except for the book. But there were duties first. The book was not something to see him forget his place. It was just as easily taken away from him as it was given.
He wondered if there was a smirk on Kai’s face as Suho gave Kai his food, and Suho ate eagerly, waiting for Kai to be done before clearing his table and bringing him the ledger he wanted. When the dishes had been cleaned, and Kai’s ledger closed, Suho prepared for their nightly ritual to clean Kai from his day.
“You touched that book with more tenderness than you regard even your food,” Kai observed.
Suho wasn’t sure what to reply, as he helped Kai from his shirt. It came away from his skin sticky with sweat, and Suho went for the basin to fill it with water. Cool enough to refresh without being chilling to the skin. Kai sighed as Suho ran the cloth over his back, wiping away the remains of the day, dust and sweat. The cloth smoothed over Kai’s arms, across his chest.
“That feels nice. It was too hot out there today, too dusty. I think even the horses wanted to find shade or plunge into the water,” Kai said. “I have half a mind to do that soon myself.”
It did sound nice. Even in the shade of the tents, the heat was draining.
“Is it strange to you?” Kai mused. “To clean me this way.”
“No,” Suho replied, and his voice was sure as he knelt and smoothed the cloth along Kai’s calves. “At the temple, it was considered as serving each other. It was a bond of those in servitude to the temple, and to their elders.”
Kai sat then, letting Suho finish cooling his legs, and to begin rinsing the dust from his feet.
“This will let me rest well,” Kai said. “I will have need only of your mouth tonight.”
Suho was both relieved, because he was exhausted, and disappointed. He felt anxious even with his newfound sense of self, and yet he could show Kai with his mouth as well, how much more assured he had become. Kai had given him a book, but Suho had gained more than that.
He did not hesitate, shifting the thin covering from where he had already washed, and stroking Kai with his hand.
“You seem different,” Kai mused. And when Suho did not respond, Kai hummed. “Him hitting you… He said you defied him. I thought it was excuse. Suho?”
He couldn’t even believe his mouth was opening. If Kai beat him again, so be it, but he could not hold it in. If Kai enjoyed another’s pain-
But he had not shown that. He had not, and Suho spoke.
“I belong in this tent. You are my master. I am Suho. It may be all I have, but no one can take that from me.”
“You felt as though you had nothing left before? I can see how you would. If I found myself a slave, I would cling to my name and identity as well. Is this life harder than what you had?”
Suho shook his head, eyes on Kai’s stomach. “In some ways. But not others.”
Even if it had taken him a while to realize that it was only his existence that was owned, not his soul.
“That’s good. At least in my tent you will never go hungry.”
Considering Suho’s lips had just parted around Kai’s cock, the laugh was immediate. Silent, but for a puff of air, but it was there.
“Was that a laugh? Suho, of my tent laughing? Perhaps it was good that you were stopped.” But Kai shook his head, so violently that Suho could feel it. “No. He should not have hit you.”
No, there was that. Perhaps another man would have thought his slave deserved it. It was that fervor, that had him dropping lower than he had ever gone, trying to take Kai deeper, as deep as his mouth would allow without choking. Letting the suction of his lips be tighter, as he dragged his head back, and hearing Kai’s moan.
“Will you be afraid to go to the market again?” Kai asked, and Suho nearly shivered to feel Kai’s hand on his head. But he rocked his head to the side, to indicate no. “Good. Care for that book well. When you are finished, take it to the bookseller and give him my name. You will be able to choose any there in exchange, except for the rarest ones.”
Suho stopped still, his head half lowered and lungs full. He hadn’t heard that right. There was no possible chance that Kai had just said that he could read the book on his trunk, and exchange it for another. And another.
“I thought that would please you,” Kai said. “But I didn’t think it would make you stop.”
There was slight censure there, among the amusement. Suho let his mouth and cradling hand move quicker, until his lips were sore and his tongue tired, but he gained strength from Kai moans. The hand on his head, fingers tight in his hair but not pushing or pulling, merely holding. For some reason it sent tingles down his back, his own body filling with need. There had been stirrings before, such a sexual act of course, but nothing like the throbbing he felt. He needed, craved, Kai’s end. To where he moaned, as Kai’s body shook and Kai came against his tongue and for his sucking mouth. He sucked in time, drawing out Kai’s pleasure, and feeling the flush of accomplishment. But he also knew there would be no release for him that night, but for his own hand under his blanket - after Kai had fallen asleep.
“That is the best you have ever done,” Kai said, his voice just a bit rough. “And all it took was a book.”
It had taken more than that, and he thought they both knew that.
When he pulled away, he felt wet drip down his chin before he could stop it. But Kai was there before he was, running his finger up Suho’s chin and then offering it for Suho to lick clean. He took Kai’s fingertip in his mouth, lathing it with his tongue, and for some reason the sound Kai made surprised him. He’d had fingers in his mouth before, to gag him, and yet, as Suho sucked on Kai’s finger, Kai reacted as though he were sucking on his cock again. It slid from between his lips, wet and clean, he watched as Kai crooked it.
“Much more of that, and I’d have been asking for your mouth again,” Kai said.
It made him feel oddly pleased, that he could accomplish that, and he decided to accept that feeling rather than scold himself. He considered Kai’s chest, his nipples. He wondered if Kai would like his mouth there. Only one other man had touched Suho like that, but the first squeezes that had almost felt good, had turned into painful twists as the man took him.
And remembering that cooled his arousal as Suho stood on stiff legs to take away the basin of water, and rinse it so that it could be used again the next day. As he wiped it clean, set it to dry, he imagined Kai coming after him, kneeling behind him and sliding his hand into Suho’s pants.
“It arouses you to please me?” Kai would ask, seeing how aroused Suho had been when he walked away. “Let me please you.”
Even just with his hand. The thought had him shifting, standing and tossing the cloth into the pile to be washed. But Kai was not watching him, had not come after him to make him throb. Instead, he was in his bed, half under the covers. And fast asleep.
It made him sigh as he carefully shoved Kai’s leg under the blanket, pulling the top up Kai’s chest. It was a strong face, even in sleep. But he looked deceptively young that way, his mouth parted. Suho blew out the hanging light, before he could think any more on Kai’s mouth. No matter his errant fantasies, Kai’s mouth was not for him. He was a slave. He wanted the books that Kai had promised more than he wanted Kai’s attentions to his pleasure.
Or he told himself that, as he crawled into bed and tried not to whimper as his body relaxed. He slept, unfulfilled, with his fingertips touching the book’s spine. There was that, at least.
***