Work Text:
Their story begins as so:
The summer air is hot but welcoming. Jongseong is leaning back against the tall trunk of their favorite tree, soles of his worn out shoes digging into the grass and dirt that enjoy his presence as much as the birds perched on the branches do. He's art, his flowy white shirt dirtied from the work he was putting into his family's garden earlier, and it hangs off of his shoulders prettily and exposes his sharp collarbones and tanned skin. He's glowing, Heeseung realizes, and he considers staring at him for a bit longer as Jongseong takes long peaceful breaths with his eyes closed.
He's summer in human form.
An apple lands in his lap and Jongseong smiles softly, eyes fluttering open as the half blurry sight of Heeseung's tall, lean frame settles in. His arms are crossed, and the way the sunlight hits him from behind makes his dark eyes somehow stand out even more than usual.
"At last," he grins, grabbing the apple and taking a quick bite out of it. It's difficult to explain, but the snap of his teeth digging into it and taking out a chunk is a nostalgic sound, one that Heeseung embraces dearly. "Took you long enough."
"Let's go now before night falls."
"Always in such a hurry," Jongseong throws his head back slightly to chuckle, "it's like you're in love."
Heeseung clenches his jaw at that, because although he loves and adores his best friend, would do absolutely anything for him, how dare he?
"Nonsense," Heeseung mutters, kicking Jongseong's shoe and ushering him to stand up. The sooner they can move on to a different matter the better. His cheeks burn at the words, but he'll blame it on the summer heat, as he always does.
In love? Never. Infatuated? Perhaps.
Heeseung convinces himself it's very similar to trying a sweet berry for the first time, a kind you've never had before—the taste can only be described as addictive, and you eat it for months, licking the juice off of your dirty fingers and crunching down on the seeds delightfully. It might be an odd comparison, but it helps mask his obsession, even if just barely.
How long would the addiction to the sweet taste last? Heeseung doesn't quite know the answer and he doesn't dwell on it too much either, settling for just until summer ends as he helps Jongseong up and dusts him off quickly.
They've made a habit of this, just the two of them. A dangerous one, but fun nonetheless, rather exciting. A secret shared between best friends.
When the sun is about to hide away, and everyone in town is almost ready to spend the night burrowed in their humble homes, that's when they head to the town square. The fresh items at the bustling market are long gone by the time they arrive, dozens of hands reaching into the large baskets to grab their needs throughout the long days being the cause. You can still find fine and fresh items to buy, and almost everything sells out daily, especially with Sunoo's pretty face at the stands. His father provides almost all of the fresh produce the town craves, and Sunoo is always around to make sure everything gets sold.
"Would you not want to prepare a sweet fruity dessert tonight?" he smiles, and his eyelashes flutter at the young girls that were just passing by to grab some herbs. "I'm sure it would make your mother happy." They giggle amongst themselves and can't help but spend a couple of coins on his last remaining fruit, because he's just that beautiful, bright and sweet—just like the fruit he sells.
The summer weather and Sunoo's face that's as pretty as the flowers in the bushes of Jongseong's garden coupled up with his voice that is as sweet as the Biblical rivers of milk and honey make for every day a great day in terms of sales. However, when presenting himself before the stands Sunoo does such a good job of handling for his father, Heeseung's eyes always linger on the baskets at the back, filled nearly to the brim. Reserved. The produce there is always top notch, best of the best, hand-picked for the royal family. Heeseung finds it impossible not to inquire.
"I want to buy from over there," Heeseung motions towards the baskets sitting on their own at the back, "from that pretty batch."
"Heeseung," Sunoo smiles, and the flash of his alluring smile distracts Heeseung from the task at hand for a second. He's become familiar to both of them, knowing he'll catch their handsome faces around the market every Sunday around this time. He doesn't think much of it, just enjoys their presence instead. "Jongseong."
"Miss me?" Jongseong grins and it is awfully coy, fingers dancing over a few leftover fruit in the baskets up front. Sunoo laughs, dusting his hands off of his apron as he mutters out a "I would dare say you were the one who missed me."
"Can I get something from back there?" Heeseung inquires yet again, wasting no time in entertaining Jongseong's playfulness, squinting his eyes slightly as Sunoo frowns. Jongseong sighs, knowing just where this is going. He tries to push against Heeseung's shoulder to keep him moving but he refuses, as stubborn as ever. He instead crosses his arms over his chest and raises his chin slightly as he waits for a response.
"I would love to," Sunoo rubs the back of his neck nervously, avoiding Heeseung's eyes. "However, those over there are reserved items. Which means they are not for sale right now, unfortunately."
"The day is coming to an end," Heeseung observes, pointing down at the shadows being casted over the town square. "How can that be? Who are you to sell all this to if the people are about to scatter off into their homes?"
He knows the answer, has known it for a long time now. He just wants to hear it.
"The king and his family always come around this time and they pick from the very best we have to offer, you know that," Sunoo sighs, aware that it is unfair that he is unable to sell some of it to Heeseung while also being aware of the fact that it is also entirely out of his control, he just does what his father tells him to. He has always taken pride in being an obedient son. "They take a lot, and, naturally—are always pleased with a wide selection."
Heeseung hums and clenches his jaw. Sometimes he wants to grab the prettiest looking fruit from the bunch, the pieces that look sweet enough to make your teeth rot. Sometimes he does not have enough money to buy any at all, but the royal family can pick and choose to their liking. No limitations, no rationing, no control.
"What do they even need all that for?" Jongseong points towards the baskets, his flowy white shirt dancing with every movement he makes. "They are not that big of a family, as far as I am aware."
Sunoo shrugs, dusting off a few of the best looking pieces with a brush as he wonders, too. As long as his father's business flourishes, he is more than content, and nobody provides for the royal family better than his father does.
"Do not ask me," he lifts his hands up and flashes them another bright smile. Even with dirt under his nails he looks dainty. "I am but a pawn to the royal family, just like the everyone else. I am just here to sell."
Heeseung nods, thinking they have bothered Sunoo for long enough. Truly, it is not Sunoo's fault, and his father is not to blame either. The Sim family is excessively greedy and painfully high maintenance. Only the best of the best is delivered to them—from oils to spices to fabric, pottery, jewelry—the finest items mere commoners could only ever wish to possess. Anything that doesn't meet their quality expectations will not be crossing through their gates.
"We will be around," Heeseung smiles softly, and it is a façade, because he does not wish to smile. It's the least Sunoo deserves for entertaining them throughout the odd questioning, and he bids them off with a slight bow of his head as he turns to help one of the few last customers with a request—she was holding flowers, and he first commented that they're almost as pretty as her—it's obvious why nothing is left to sell by the end of the day.
The town square is still crammed with townsfolk, but the crowds gathering around the market have dissipated. It's always just like this, every Sunday afternoon. Everyone knows they need to make space for the royal family, and they're all just here to bring offerings and gaze in wonder at their wealth and beauty, as nobody would dare interrupt the queen while she picks out new provisions.
Heeseung and Jongseong always sit around the fountain as they let their fingers dip into the cool water most of the time, waiting. Their hearts race and their cheeks are tinted a pretty shade of pink all the while, but when the familiar sound of the crowd starts taking over the square, Jongseong's hand rests on Heeseung's thigh. It means it's finally time.
In seconds they are scurrying to a corner, their corner, and the view from here is perfect. It's the reason they make it to the town square every Sunday around this time, the reason they never miss it, the reason why Sunoo always finds them here even though he never questions them about it, bless his soul.
Jongseong and Heeseung would say "We've come here to see you," hiding their lies behind their pretty teeth, and Sunoo would blush, hopefully, averting his gaze towards his fruit shyly instead of wondering why they can't come visit him on any other day of the week instead.
They need to stand in close proximity, and although they can feel the way they're breathing—erratic due to excitement—they never say anything about it. It's when the queen finally shows herself in a beautiful dress that Jongseong wraps his fingers around Heeseung's wrist, as if he just needs to be held. As if he needs to remind himself that this is real.
The heat emitting from their bodies puts the summer temperature to shame. Hearts hammering against their chest, shoulders rising and falling through heavy breaths, eyes gleaming even in the shade of their private little corner, it's what they expect every single Sunday around this time that keeps them on edge all throughout the day.
Heeseung and Jongseong think Jaeyun is breathtaking. It's wrong, terribly wrong to lust for the prince like this, but they're beyond caring. They jumped over that bridge long ago.
He's dressed lavishly but still moderately casual, as he usually does on Sunday afternoons. His shirt is a light tone of teal that is pleasing to the eye and the fabric resting over his frame appears to be satin. Jongseong can't help but imagine what burying his face into Jaeyun's chest while he's wearing the material feels like as he watches it dance over his slightly toned body with every movement. His hair is styled nicely today again, a clean backswept look that exposes his pretty eyebrows and flawless skin. He looks regal, as always. As he makes his way through the crowds that gasp at his beauty, a young lady offers him a freshly picked flower, and as he presses it to his nose and plump lips Heeseung balls his fists in pure anger. Jealousy.
They're not sure what to do with themselves, but what they do know, which is unequivocally clear, is that this obsession will not fade any time soon.
Heeseung hears Jongseong whine softly when Jaeyun passes by closer to their hidden corner and he tenses up, because although witnessing the effect the prince has on his best friend is always a bit of a shock, he knows he feels the same way. Jongseong sounds pathetic like this, but Heeseung feels like he can't do anything about it, and it hurts. He can't bring Jongseong to his senses, can't strike him across the face and tell him to get a hold of himself, can't tell him it's wrong and that he should cease this—it would be highly hypocritical of him.
Instead, they bask in their sick obsession together and they share this little secret, just as they share everything else. Besides, Heeseung thinks a sweet new berry is always best when savored with a friend.
Tucked away under the shade of their favorite tree they lean against each other and fantasize about Jaeyun. For hours, they talk about how soft the skin on his thighs must be and how his back muscles must look as he shrugs off the expensive fabrics that rest upon his frame.
It started as something highly inoffensive, their infatuation beginning on a fateful Sunday afternoon where they crossed paths with the prince at the town square. He was pretty, unbelievably so, and that was when Jongseong and Heeseung realized he must be close to their age. There was a sort of gleeful bounce to his step, and his hair was a bit longer back then. He flashed them a quick smile, probably feeling joyful at being in close proximity to boys his age as it gets lonely in the castle, and he turned away rapidly. Their only interaction ever, but it's stuck with them ever since, and in a way it's felt like it's their responsibility to free Jaeyun. Jongseong and Heeseung have not seen a prettier sight since, and trying to throw rocks at Jaeyun's window high up in the castle to befriend the young prince and release him from the monotonous shackles of his life of royalty has spiraled out of control in just a few years.
Oh, how innocent and pure their thoughts were even just a handful of months prior. Making Jaeyun laugh, taking him to the creek, putting flowers in his hair, sharing a hearty meal of freshly harvested food. Before they could realize it, it was wrapping their rough hands around his neck, watching him cry, hearing him plead. Would he bleed prettily? Would he scream?
Often times they would mingle around the gates, waiting for the prince to leave with a few guards to ride horses into the forest they frequented so very often. It was like a sick game they enjoyed playing, trailing behind Jaeyun everywhere he went, especially at night. Watching him tread softly into the forest as he searched for wild berries, a much needed escape from the castle walls, hear him hum out a soft melody thinking he was alone, hearing the voice of his guards echo through the trees, warning him not to wander off too far alone. They loved to subliminally let him know he was never alone, stepping on thick branches and watching him turn around and let out a: Who's there, voice trembling, I come with my guards.
"Want to carve my name into his lovely skin," Heeseung had said one time as he peeled the fruit in his hands with a dull knife. "Nobody will try to claim him then. Nobody."
Jongseong froze, astonished, mostly because he would do the same. Heeseung sliced the fruit in half then, and they shared it.
They would never truly acknowledge it for what it has become, much less verbally, but their inoffensive infatuation has grown faster than the pesky weeds in Jeongseong's garden, the ones he pulls out again and again to no avail. It's grown to become dangerous and repulsive, and people would surely call it sick, but they wouldn't really understand. It's evident to both of them, and yet—here they are, feeding into it once again. Growing it, cultivating it, letting themselves be engulfed by brazen desire. The same story repeats itself every week, and with every passing Sunday a new page is added to this sick tale, and their unhealthy infatuation grows.
"It'll kill us one day," Heeseung had chuckled casually as Jongseong expressed his painful wish to dig his teeth deep into Jaeyun's neck and hold him down as he squirms, leave a mark that lasts for days. I feel like I can't control it, Jongseong had muttered, eyes half-lidded as they met with Heeseung's own. "It could get us killed."
"It does not matter," Jongseong smiled through a sigh that sounded lovely, pleased, even after what he had just expressed. That was when Heeseung knew they were beyond help.
"Look at him," Heeseung breathes out, airy and desperate, heart caught in his throat as Jaeyun turns and leans down slightly to let his mother whisper in his ear.
"Beautiful, so beautiful," a pause. One that seemed way longer than it actually was as Jaeyun politely smiles at the words his mother just shared with him. "I despise him."
"From the deepest desires often come the deadliest hate," Jongseong whispers lightly, and Heeseung gulps down hard—he can see Jongseong is palming himself softly over his pants through his peripheral vision, and he begrudgingly comes to realize he is doing the same. "Socrates."
"Those words hold truth," Heeseung whispers back, and when the prince leans over to recover a fallen piece of fruit that tumbled down from its basket, they wish they had a better view of the way his loose shirt falls open to expose his chest. They would think about it for weeks, months even. A beautiful wide expanse of skin to litter with kisses and bruises, small cuts that would sting to the touch and remind the prince that he's human, too. Just in case he had forgotten. Heeseung and Jongseong rub the front of their pants harder now, with more intent, fueled by desperation.
Then, as a refreshing change of pace to their typical Sunday afternoon, it happens. When Heeseung sees it, he audibly gasps.
His hand smashes against Jongseong's chest rapidly and knocks the air right out of him. Jongseong coughs slightly, and Heeseung grabs a hold of the white shirt and pulls him close, closer than before.
"Look," Heeseung whispers, wild eyed with his own chest heaving. Jongseong's cheek is almost pressed entirely to his own. "He dropped something."
Jongseong is squinting, gaze finally landing upon the white cloth thrown on the cobble of the town square, terribly close to the prince's feet. He cannot control the gasp that crawls its way up his own throat either, eyes widening as he realizes what it means for them. A chance, perhaps. An escape, possibly. A token, above all things—a gift. He was not going to let it slip through his fingers, not today. Something is different about today, he can feel it in the air, as warm and suffocating as it may be.
In a split second, Jongseong is using the strength in his left arm to grab and rip Heeseung's arm away from his shirt, being met with a confused expression as Heeseung quickly turns his head to face him. When Heeseung's hand is off him, he hears a desperate "Jongseong, do not—" before he is throwing himself to the opposite side of where they're tucked in their secret lookout spot, scrambling up to his feet and dusting off his white shirt in an attempt to blend in with the crowd.
Heeseung is left with the words in his mouth, fist coming down on the hard cobble of where they were hiding, face pressed as close to the wooden gate as possible. They usually tuck away here because they can stare at Jaeyun without anybody noticing, and this is the first time Jongseong has stepped out while the prince is still roaming around the town square. He's partially surrounded by royal guards, and Heeseung is absolutely mortified at the possibility of Jongseong doing something foolish and getting himself in trouble Heeseung would not be able to help him escape from.
He realizes drops of sweat are rolling down his temples as he watches Jongseong squeeze through the crowds carefully but rapidly, possibly out of fear of not being able to grab the piece of fabric on time. He's making his way through the heaps of townsfolk like he's distressed or suffocated, using his forearms to barge his way through bodies that are too preoccupied with idolizing royalty to care.
"Idiot," Heeseung sighs nervously, brows furrowed in concentration as he sees Jongseong stand behind Sunoo's stands of merchandise. The queen is so close to him that Heeseung does not understand how the guards aren't pressing their elbows against his throat right now. He pretends to be cleaning up, reorganizing the produce in baskets, and the fact that the sun is finally setting certainly helps. Jongseong is leaning against the wall, stealing glances at Jaeyun through hooded eyes whenever he gets the chance to, and Heeseung hates to admit he feels jealous. He has not had the chance to stand that close to the lovely prince in years.
He believes it to be fate that not a single person has picked up on the garment that was dropped by the prince, and in barely the blink of an eye Jongseong is scurrying past some guards and pretending to take a stumble, long fingers hooking onto the white cloth and shoving it into his pocket hurriedly. It seems like all these years of causing trouble and being punished by their mothers has come in handy, as Jeongseong is quickly making his way through the thick crowd again, turning one last time to get a close look at the prince—an opportunity like this might not come around for a very long time.
When Jaeyun looks up from the clump of herbs his mother asked him to hold, he does not expect to meet a pair of coy, sharp dark brown eyes staring right into his own. Nervously, the beautiful man is averting his gaze elsewhere, eyelids fluttering shyly as his head turns, and Jaeyun realizes his black hair and his slightly tanned skin is just as exquisite as his eyes. He seems oddly familiar, and Jaeyun wants to go look for him in the crowd and stop him from scurrying away, but he does not. He stands prettily, holding everything his mother tells him to, scanning over the crowd for the appealing pair of eyes discreetly whenever he has the chance. He feels troubled, because he was just staring into the eyes of a man and feeling his heart beat fast, but he tries not to feel too mortified over it. Maybe the boy was just a figment of his imagination.
Jongseong falls to his knees besides Heeseung, immediately pressing the white cloth to Heeseung's chest and resting his head on Heeseung's shoulder. Heeseung does nothing, stares down at the dirty cobble under their knees as he feels Jongseong pant against him. He was utterly breathless.
"I did it," he gasps out, and Heeseung fails to tell if Jongseong sounds scared, nervous, relieved, aroused, excited—he figures it could very well be a mix of all the previously mentioned emotions. Although he is angry at Jongseong for taking such a risk, he cannot help but feel excited. "We have our own little piece of him now."
Heeseung closes his eyes at those words, and before he knows it Jongseong is pressing the fabric to his nose and lips, and oh.
The smell. It's sweet but savory, smells a bit like vanilla and amber and Heeseung is instantly addicted. He can't hold back the slight moan that leaves his lips, and it's muffled by the fabric but it's clear as day regardless. Jongseong is still panting, but his eyes are now fixed on the way Heeseung's nostrils flare against the fabric and he can only hear the little breathy sounds that are leaving his lips, and suddenly their tight secret corner is more cramped than before.
"For later," Jongseong gulps, his hands shaky as he stuffs the fabric in his pocket once more. Heeseung follows the movement with his nose and lips, as if wanting more, and Jongseong thinks it's so painfully erotic that he lets his free hand rest on Heeseung's thigh to calm both of them down. He tries to ignore the fact that Heeseung is seemingly achingly hard in his pants, and he looks so ashamed, the poor thing. "Let us enjoy him while we can. He is not ours, not yet, and therefore he could be gone in seconds."
He is not ours, not yet. The words ring in Heeseung's ears and ignite a fire deep in his core.
With soft hands he grabs Heeseung's perfectly sculpted jaw and turns his face to prince Jaeyun, all the while Heeseung exhales shakily as he nods. They now at least have a story to tell, and a tangible piece of the story to keep for themselves.
It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon indeed.
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Jongseong is conflicted. Terribly so.
He knows it's far too late for them to still be sitting by their favorite tree, Heeseung's lantern and the moonlight being their only source of light as they sit in a kneeling position, facing each other. Jongseong knows his mother might be wondering where he is, but as he watches the lantern's light bounce off of Heeseng's dark eyes, he realizes he cares not. It's quiet, the sounds of the insects around the grassy area and the occasional gusts of wind providing the only noise to the scene.
"Where is it?" Heeseung asks, and it's hushed, like a secret, even though they are alone. Perhaps all the religion their parents have attempted to shove down their throats is finally catching up to them, and they feel as if the saints above are looking down on them, frowning. Jongseong swallows down the lump in his throat, eyes catching on the way Heeseung's collarbones peek over the low neck of his beige shirt which he untied earlier.
With shy movements, as if he is unsure of what he is doing, he pulls out the cloth from his pocket. A handkerchief, as it turns out, with a cursive J imprinted on the soft white fabric. Little details they missed earlier in their frenzied state.
Heeseung smiles softly, but there's something different in his gaze this time. A troubling need, a burning passion. As he softly bites his bottom lip and leans in closer to Jongseong, he realizes after all these years that Heeseung's beauty can rival Jaeyun's own.
"Let me see," he sighs, leaving his hands at his sides and Jongseong instantly understands what he means. Experimentally, just as he did at the town square, he presses the soft fabric to Heeseung's perfectly sculpted nose and pink lips, watching as his eyes flutter closed. Jongseong understands. This is what Jaeyun smells like, this is the closest they have ever been to trapping the prince between them, to laying everything bare.
"So delightful," Heeseung moans out, and his eyelids open slowly, gaze piercing into Jongseong's face like a sharp blade. "Wouldn't you agree?"
It all happens so fast.
Heeseung is draping his arms over Jongseong's shoulders, pulling him closer and spreading his knees further apart as he almost climbs into Jongseong's lap, who gasps in a confusing mixture of shock and arousal. Heeseung notices this, and in a heartbeat he is leaning in to whisper against Jongseong's ear,
"We are sick, Jongseong. It matters not. We already fantasize about another man."
Jongseong instantly gives in, as if Heeseung's words were the small push he needed, stretching his legs out as he lets Heeseung sit between them, legs spread out on either side of his hips.
"It is all Jaeyun's fault," Jongseong growls, amazed at how his violent desires are back a few hours after engaging in eye contact with the prince that made him want to offer flowers to him on his knees. He hurriedly shrugs his soft white shirt off his shoulders, because even though the night envelops them he feels hot all over. "That bastard. Why must he be so beautiful and get us like th—"
"Just give in," Heeseung interrupts and his words end in a moan, bringing up Jongseong's wrist to hold the handkerchief before both of their faces. They both lean in at the very same time and trap the fabric between their lips, and it is so pathetic of them that it is infuriating. As if on cue, they moan, and suddenly Heeseung is wrapping his long arms around Jongseong's torso, feeling his bare skin. They kiss over the fabric and dampen it, Jongseong still making sure it stays nestled between their faces as they close their eyes and picture it through a mess of pleads and tongue.
Jaeyun would be sitting between them, trapped—pants pulled down below his thighs, cock hard against his abdomen and leaking, pink and red and purple marks adorning his jawline, his neck, his chest while his pretty wrists are bound together—he would not have anywhere to run off to while he's being held by Heeseung and Jongseong, all their years of hard labor paying off in the form of strong arms, but the prince would not wish to run off either. Instead, he would let himself be owned and used, and it would be a necessary change from his lavish lifestyle of owning others and everything he pleases. Getting his face pressed into the dirt might just be what he needs after so long.
Heeseung is pulling back to gasp for air, quickly undoing his pants and Jongseong's in a frenzy of unexplainable arousal. He moves as if he no longer has control over his body. It is quite sickening, the effect the prince has on them. It is like a rope that is tied tight around their necks, unrelenting. That is just how it feels, how it has felt for years at this point. It has been hours since their encounter, but their cocks are jumping in their garments at the mere mention of his name, like they're uncontrollable animals.
"Tell me," Heeseung lets out between pants, gazing into Jongseong's half-lidded eyes lazily. "What would you do to him?"
Jongseong groans and shakes his head slightly, embarrassed. Refusing to talk about it right now, in their compromising and foreign position. Heeseung is his best friend, and the feeling of Heeseung pulling his pants down his thighs has him thinking a million different things all at once. Was this all just a dream?
"Perhaps," Heeseung leans in, letting his teeth dig softly into the side of Jongseong's neck, right where his cute birthmark is. He lets out a soft yelp, and Heeseung holds him in place harder as he speaks against the skin of his neck. "Would Jaeyun bite into your neck like this while you ram into him? While you hurt him?"
Jongseong can't swallow down the loud moan he lets out, head falling back as Heeseung spits into his hand. The handkerchief is still trapped in his fist that is now pressing against the dirty quilt laid under them to keep himself from falling back, grip on it so hard his knuckles are white.
Heeseung experimentally forms a tight hole with his hand, one that will surely have Jongseong thrashing around, imagining it's Jaeyun's tightness instead. As he slowly brings it down Jongseong's hard shaft, his reaction is as if he was being mutilated.
"Fuck," Jongseong swears through pants, feeling his thighs quiver at the strange feeling. He had never been touched like this before by anybody but himself. "That feels so delightful it borders unbearable."
Heeseung nods, pulling out his own cock and making sure he's pressed as close to Jongseong as possible, who brings his head forward to look down, which he regrets instantly. Heeseung is stroking himself in languid wet strokes, the slide of his fist over his cock creating sounds, and their tips are almost touching. Their cheeks burn, because although they are best friends and almost sworn brothers, they cannot deny they look beautiful pressed together like this.
"Maybe I would cradle his head while you spread his knees as far as possible from behind," Jongseong groans out, feeding into Heeseung's sick idea to converse about all the vile things they would do to Jaeyun if he were here, nestled between them. "Perhaps I would keep him quiet as you have your way with him and punish him, fill him up until he feels like he will regurgitate for all the trouble he has caused us."
Heeseung moans then, and the sound is like a splendid melody. Jongseong knows Heeseung would not be able to hold back a smile as he pushes into the prince's tight heat, grip of his virgin hole unrelenting as he spasms through the pain and pleasure of getting his virginity stripped away in the forest by two mere commoners. His guards would not be able to find him here or come to his aid.
"I would do the same for you, you are my best friend," Heeseung pants out, back to staring right into Jongseong's eyes that burn with passion and uncontrollable desire now. "I would hold him for you, maybe wrap my arm around his neck and prevent him from being too loud. Whisper in his ear that he should pray like his Catholic mother taught him to since he is enjoying getting split open by another man."
Jongseong sucks in a sharp breath at that, bringing the handkerchief up to his nose, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he takes a good inhale of the sweet scent.
"We do everything together," Jongseong groans out, extending his arm towards Heeseung's face for him to smell and mouth at the delicious piece of fabric. "Hold us both."
Heeseung gasps softly in surprise but complies, positioning himself in a way that lets his cock slide over Jongseong's, and the moment they touch they both cry out in a mixture of pleasure and shame, loud between the tall trees that surround them. Heeseung's big hand is wrapping around both of their shafts, the sounds coming from their cocks wet and vile, and Jongseong thinks that if he leaves his mouth agape for longer he will start salivating all over both of them like a feral dog. Somehow, the dim light emitting from the lantern makes the scene even more sinful.
"Want to defile him," Jongseong whines out, eyes glossy with tears that threaten to spill as Heeseung picks up the pace. He holds the handkerchief to his face that is scrunched up in pure pleasure, and the next words he mutters out are muffled by the soft fabric. "We must do something about it."
Heeseung knows just what that means, and he had been thinking the same for a long time, too afraid to express his desire verbally.
He rubs them off faster, harder, stronger, the rough yet welcoming skin of his hands worn out after a long day caressing both of their erections and the handkerchief being passed between them as they inhale Jaeyun's scent and images flash behind their tired eyes—Jaeyun would be hogtied, Jaeyun's skin would be tinted red from multiple orgasms and cruel spankings, Jaeyun would squirm as they drip candle wax from the lantern over him to see if he cries and slithers around in pain just like commoners do—and it's all too much, too much for boys like Jongseong and Heeseung who know no self control.
With the moon and the wind being their only witness, they share more of their secret fantasies as they touch each other and hold each other, collecting their sweat, tears, and whines like the best friends they are. They rut and rub against each other and hiss out disgusting words that would get them in serious trouble with the priest until they finish all over their laps, abominable and crude and sticky, Jaeyun's cloth pressed to their lips. In their twenty something years of life, this is by far their biggest secret yet, their biggest adventure.
What would Jongseong and Heeseung do without each other? Nothing, it seems, as while they pant and jitter as they recover from such body numbing orgasms they realize this was officially the catalyst—this week, sometime, somewhere—their situation would have to take a turn.
≿━━༺✦༻━━≾
The first person to notice Jongseong is acting differently, to notice something strange is brewing, is no other than Jungwon. Their relationship is complicated, not necessarily in a bad way, but not necessarily in a way that requires Jongseong to dwell on it, at least for now.
Their mothers are great friends, and every time Jongseong hears a soft knock at his door he expects to swing the door open and find Jungwon holding a dish, a basket, a vase—something from Jungwon's mother to his. Jungwon is younger than him and has always been pretty, free spirited and playful, but after helping his father with woodwork he has developed a slightly muscular and perfectly lean build, and as Jungwon calls out for him and walks over, Jongseong gulps. Jungwon has matured beautifully, even his voice has changed. If Sunoo is pretty in a way that makes you feel at home, Jungwon is pretty in a way that makes you want to seek out adventures with him.
Jongseong recalls then how just a few weeks ago he had abruptly come across the sight of the lower half of Jungwon's body submerged in water, at the deepest part of the creek he and Heeseung often frequent, where water rolls and falls over asymmetrical rocks that create a perfect natural spot to bathe in. His clothes were discarded on the rocks, and his head was tilted back slightly as streams of freshwater washed down his bare skin. His shoulders were wide, surprisingly wider than Jongseong's own, and that stuck with him.
Jongseong watched him for as long as he could, breath hitching whenever Jungwon moved and exposed his lower back further. He felt like a sick pervert as he wondered how Jungwon would react if he joined him, just like he did whenever he and Heeseung would sneak around the castle, praying to the heavens above they would eventually catch prince Jaeyun in a sinful act or a compromising position. Was this what he had become?
"Ah, Jungwon," Jongseong chuckles nervously, wrapping the thick rope around his fist to collect it. It plays a crucial role in his plan with Heeseung, and Jungwon cannot know. Not in a million years. "How have you been?"
He keeps wrapping the rope around his closed fist, faster this time, as casually as his beating heart allows him to.
"Good, slightly better now," Jungwon chuckles softly, and his eyes get caught in the way the veins in Jongseong's arms bulge through his ministrations. "What use will you give this rope?"
An innocent conversation sparker, no doubt about it, but Jongseong feels a sharp wave of cold crawl up his spine.
"Father needs it," he mutters, almost inaudibly, but Jungwon hears him. Jongseong is wrapping it around his fist faster, and as he finishes collecting the last bit of it, he turns to face Jungwon.
His face is a bit dirty, a bit of his shirt is ripped (possibly after getting caught between bushes while foraging), his hair a bit disheveled. Effortlessly charming.
"Hope the work you have ahead is not too tedious," Jungwon smiles, and his dimples greets Jongseong. "I do not wish you get hurt."
Jongseong's heart aches at his words, because he realizes if tomorrow night he gets caught by the royal guards, Jungwon would possibly be the first to cry over his absence.
"I will not, you have my word," Jongseong smiles back and he shoves the bundle of rope into the side of his pants. Jungwon does not look entirely convinced but he smiles back. "Now, go rest, night is almost upon us."
As he walks away from the younger man, he wonders if Jungwon would ever speak to him again if he found out who he truly is.
≿━━༺✦༻━━≾
It is cold out tonight, quiet. Heeseung treads softly around the back of the castle, where crops are grown and clothes are hung to dry. Getting here was troublesome enough, but inquiring around without being noticed even more so. The grass under his shoes crunches softly, and whenever he hears voices he presses his back against the nearest wall, afraid of being caught.
As it turns out, if he and Jongseong are to execute their wicked plan, they need a point of entry. Finding a way in should not be too difficult for Heeseung, years of mischievous activities with Jongseong by his side most certainly aiding him in his task. Being alone for long enough to investigate, however, is a story of its own.
He is a bit tired of trying to count all the doors they could slip through unnoticed, and as he sits on a small cobble patch by a basket of white linen, a leg collides with his shoulder painfully and his eyes widen enormously in the dark. A lantern is suddenly brought down to his level, and a hand rests on his shoulder.
"Goodness, my most sincere apologies," the man sounds young, probably close to Jongseong's age. His voice is unique, and Heeseung cannot deny that he is intrigued. "I did not see you there."
Heeseung is hissing in pain and the man is worried, so he sets his lantern on the floor and kneels besides Heeseung.
"Are you hurt?" he asks, and the genuine worry in his voice causes Heeseung to turn, and he is tremendously glad he did.
The skin on his face was like porcelain and he was most definitely young, although the thick eyebrows and perfectly combed back hair definitely tried to make him look older. What catches Heeseung's attention the most is how two moles sit on his face prettily, one on the side of the bridge of his nose and the other on his cheek. This boy is like a dream, he thinks, and when he looks down and recognizes the uniforms all royal guards wear his heart starts hammering against his chest.
"I'm not hurt," Heeseung whispers, watching the young man's eyebrows furrow in confusion as he notices Heeseung's clothing is not that of those who live and work in the castle for the royal family. "Are you a guard?"
The man chuckles softly, and Heeseung's eyes catch on his teeth that peek out through his lips.
"That is correct," he begins, adjusting his collar. "My father is the head of the guards for the royal family, and I naturally took the same route."
Heeseung gulps, realizing he could not have chosen a more dangerous individual to stumble into on a night like tonight.
"I was on my way to the front gates right now," he continues, mesmerized by the beautiful set of brown eyes in front of him. If he could make this conversation last all night, he most certainly would. "I watch over their chambers, mostly when everyone is sleeping. That reminds me, I do not think I caught your name."
"Heeseung," words are spilling out of his mouth before he can register because the young guard's beauty is rather mesmerizing, although he instantly regrets sharing his real name. Heeseung thinks this young man could get away with anything with a face this lovely. "Yours?"
"Sunghoon."
Heeseung does not think he will be forgetting the name soon as he watches the young man get to his feet, his lantern still sitting by Heeseung's knees. He is tall and perfectly proportionate, enough for Heeseung not to mind feeling small.
"I would ask what you are doing around this area, it is private property," Sunghoon is smoothing down the back of his hair, eyes lowered to meet Heeseung's. "However, I doubt you are up to no good. If you ever see me around, do not be afraid to greet me."
Heeseung nods and smiles, just for good measure. A loud male voice echoes all the way to where they mingle and Sunghoon's eyebrows shoot up.
"I would love to chatter more, but I have duties to fulfill. I would not stay out until too late, and much less here, if I were you. Farewell, Heeseung."
A friendly warning, but Heeseung took it as more of a challenge.
With a stride nothing short of graceful, Sunghoon is using his lantern to lead his way to the front gates and Heeseung watches him go, stomach turning at the fact that it is very likely that if he ever comes face to face with Sunghoon again, it is while he is getting executed for his crimes.
≿━━༺✦༻━━≾
After years of waiting and yearning, when it finally happens, it does not even feel real.
It actually feels like a dream. All of it.
As Jongseong slipped through the dimly lit halls of the royal household with Heeseung by his side, he felt like he could spit out his heart whole—both in fear and excitement.
We're saving him, Jongseong, Heeseung kept whispering, using the images they have seen from outside to lead them to the prince's chamber.
Now, as Heeseung takes a quick look to the left, then the right, fingers of his hand gently pushing on the slightly ajar door to what they assume to be the chamber of prince Jaeyun, Jongseong feels his knees tremble. This was not a dream, not at all. It was real.
The beautifully embellished door creaks very quietly, aiding their entry into his chamber unnoticed. Heeseung turns to Jongseong, eyes wide with excitement and fear, and Jongseong can see a wild array of emotions reflected in them. Wearily, he makes sure the doors are closed behind them softly. There are candles littered all over the young prince's room, and they soon realize this means the prince is awake. Jongseong can't hold back his excitement at the thought of prince Jaeyun getting ravished on his hardwood floors surrounded by candlelight, like a ritual.
Heeseung's feels his pants tighten, because although they were expecting to surprise the prince in his sleep, cornering him while he is awake and fully conscious just sounds like a lot more fun. The room is large, so large it branches out into different sections, and Heeseung and Jongseong are so blinded by their lust they do not know what to do first.
With his heart beating ferociously against his chest, Heeseung clears his throat, softly but loud enough for it to be heard, and with his hand pressed to his mouth he smiles deviously when he hears a loud gasp followed by a "Who's there?"
At first, Jaeyun was terrified, thinking somebody wanted to rob him or hurt him because they had bad blood with his father. He never expected two beautiful boys to face him in the dimly lit environment of his room. They had ill intent in their eyes, Jaeyun could see it, but over everything else they ignited something deep in his stomach he did not know was even there.
"W-what do you want?"
His voice was trembling, and Jongseong thinks he has never heard a more beautiful sound.
Jaeyun was conflicted, because he somehow felt sickeningly aroused by the way he felt vulnerable even as they did not speak a word, unsure where these two handsome young men even came from. He wondered if he was dreaming or if perhaps his demons finally caught up to him and gave him what he secretly craved for so long, and as Jongseong and Heeseung approached him he secretly recited prayers.
Prayers would not be able to save him if he did not wish to be saved deep down, he realizes as he lets Heeseung wrap his long arms around him from behind.
"How kind of you to let us in," Heeseung exhales against Jaeyun's ear, hands playing with his tied robe, threatening to rip it open. Jaeyun struggles against his chest, mostly because he refuses to believe this is a reality and because he can tell his arousal will begin to show dangerously soon. "We thought this would be a lot more difficult, but it seems like you keep secrets, my prince."
"You let yourselves in," Jaeyun grunts out, eyes gleaming as he recognizes the beautiful boy from the town square staring at him with lust-filled eyes. He was real after all. His mouth is slightly agape as he watches Jaeyun thrash against Heeseung's chest where they stand, torn between fear and desire, and if the visible tent in his trousers is anything to go by, he loves what he sees.
"You have not kicked us out," Heeseung chuckles, and his eyes flicker up to meet with Jongseong's, who gulps down his saliva before walking forward to help.
"Were you hoping for something like this?" Jongseong inquires, quietly with a hint of a tremble to his voice, backing the prince and Heeseung into the nearest wall with a thud. Heeseung's back hits the wall and Jaeyun winces, hyperaware of everything happening all at once. Jongseong presses him into Heeseung with his own body further, pressing down hard, holding Heeseung's hips as he crushes him between their bodies. "Did you dream about this before, your highness?"
Jaeyun's cheeks burn at his words and he furrows his eyebrows angrily because how dare he, until his pretty lips are separating in a silent cry as Jongseong rolls his hips, painfully slow and hard. Heeseung bites his lip, feeling the motion with the way he's pressed against the wall, and Jongseong lets out a pleased sounding whine next to Jaeyun's ear.
"Speak, or we will stay here until dawn breaks," he's panting, and Jaeyun feels goosebumps erupt all over his body at his breathlessness. "We will open your windows, rail you bent over the ledge so the town wakes up to your cries and they can watch it happen, too."
Jaeyun feels his eyes swell with tears, because although that would be so humiliating it pains him, he hates feeling like there is nothing he wants more. What kind of sorcery is this, who hates him so much that they would cast this curse upon him?
"I have never dreamed of such things," he lies, hands scrambling behind him to hold on to something until both of his wrists are caught in in Heeseung's brutal grip. He's properly trapped between them, these young men who are essentially strangers, while the rest of the castle and his family sleep.
"No need to be shy," Heeseung growls out, hold on his wrists painful, like he would snap his bones without hesitation. "We are all men here, are we not?"
"Men," Jaeyun gasps out, feeling Heeseung start to gyrate his hips behind him too, and although there's barely enough friction between the three of them, it's already far too much for Jaeyun. The prince who has never been dirtied, never been kissed, never been touched. "Indeed we are."
"Does the Bible not say it is wrong to let other men do this to you?" Jongseong asks, and his fingers are digging into Jaeyun's robe, slipping it off his shoulders. Instantly, his eyes and Heeseung's are glued to the expanse of clean skin, and they feel themselves salivate like wild dogs. "It surely must have something to say about this."
Jaeyun cannot control the sound that escapes his throat, and it sounds too much like a sob, enough for it to pierce through his ego. Heeseung hums pleasurably at the sound, because it's far prettier than what they had fantasized for years. Without warning, he leans forward and digs his teeth into the exposed skin of Jaeyun's shoulder, and the prince thrashes between both of their bodies because it hurts terribly. Heeseung's eyes are rolling back into his head and Jongseong thinks he looks possessed. Jongseong's hand quickly comes up to press against Jaeyun's mouth hard, drowning out his guttural screams of pain while Heeseung licks and bites into his shoulder repeatedly.
"Be quiet now," Jongseong hisses out, and hearing Heeseung moan and whine into Jaeyun's shoulder like he's getting fucked has his cock leaking in his pants. "He had been waiting years to do that."
Jaeyun suddenly feels like prey. Were they waiting for the right time to trap him between them like this, defile him in his own home? How long had this been going on for?
Heeseung pulls back from a particularly hard bite breathless, eyes scanning over all the marks he left over the prince's shoulders, and he presses his nose to the back of his head to smell his soft hair.
"Did I hurt you?" he mutters against the back of his head, and Jaeyun nods rapidly, the poor thing.
"You must not lie," his mother always said, straightening his back and taking care of the stray hairs that fell over his forehead. "We must be honest, true. We must be sincere."
And sincere he was. The way Heeseung dug his teeth into his shoulder hurt more than anything he had ever experienced before, and he does not know if he's bleeding or if the wetness he feels over his shoulders is just the mess of saliva Heeseung left behind.
Heeseung's hands snake around his hips and grab his crotch, feeling Jaeyun's hard cock press against the soft fabric of his robe. How peculiar.
"Are you sure?" Heeseung inquires, still speaking into Jaeyun's hair as he inhales the sweet vanilla scent that drove him wild, and for the first time of the night, Jaeyun's eyes spill tears. "I do not think this happens when you are hurt, young prince."
Jaeyun's chest is heaving now as tears he cannot control roll down his flushed face, and Jongseong is quickly kissing his cheeks, moistening his lips with the salty liquid he had been craving to taste for so long.
"Save these for later," he smiles against Jaeyun's cheek, and the latter feels his legs go weak, unsure of how long of this he will be able to endure. "You are pretty when you cry."
As he is pushed down roughly to his knees against the hardwood floor by Jongseong, Jaeyun really does start to think these are his demons. They know him too well, know just where to push to have him bend over, know how to control him, know how to break him. It took them long enough to catch him.
Jongseong is kneeling at his back and Jaeyun is trembling at the feeling of him shifting around behind him as Heeseung watches them from above, towering over their figures. Suddenly, Jongseong pulls out the rope that was tucked away against his hip. In a quick and unexpected motion, he loops it around Jaeyun's neck and pulls, wicked grin adorning his handsome face.
Jaeyun chokes and coughs, arms flying up to dig his nails into the skin of Jongseong's own in fear.
"Do not make me use this, not yet," Jongseong mutters against his ear, sucking it into his mouth slightly as he pulls back hard once more, hoping that by the end of the night there are pretty rope marks around Jaeyun's neck that his mother will ask about. Jaeyun nods frantically, panicked, and Jongseong lets him go, watching through lidded eyes as Jaeyun falls forward to lay his palms flat against the wood, coughing and drooling as his whole body shivers. It was beautiful.
"Up," he growls out loudly, and with his hand tangled in Jaeyun's hair he pulls him back to sit upright on his knees, more like a castle hound than a prince. He grabs him by the jaw and tilts his head up to look at Heeseung in the eyes. His gaze was nothing short of demonic.
"How does he look?" Jongseong smirks, and Heeseung tilts his head as he takes in Jaeyun's puffy eyes and red nose, he looks so wrecked already and they have barely even started, the night is still fairy young. How pathetic.
"Perfect."
Heeseung is hurriedly pulling down his pants, hands shaking in excitement as Jaeyun watches him through eyes that hide how mesmerized he is by his perfect body. Tall, lean, proportionate. He is gorgeous, Jaeyun thinks, even as he fears the vile acts these two have in store. It will hurt, surely, but it will hurt deliciously—above all, the prince fears he will get addicted.
"You keep crying, your highness," Jongseong coos as they both watch Heeseung strip until he's wearing nothing, and Jongseong cannot help but let his curious eyes rest over Heeseung's big cock, thoughts going to how perfectly he will rip the prince a new hole. " Should we stop?"
Heeseung smirks then, raising an eyebrow at Jaeyun who cannot bring himself to do anything, so he instead lets out a whine even as Jongseong's rough hand has his mouth disfigured with the painfully strong grip he has on him.
Jongseong's chest rumbles with painful laughter. It hurts more than the deep bites Heeseung took into his shoulder earlier.
"The prince seems to not know know what he wants," Jongseong groans out against his ear, and as he lets go of his face to lick a thick wet stripe against his cheek from the side, Jaeyun feels like he is being suffocated, sacrificed at the altar of desire where lust reigns. His vision blurs and his nape sweats.
"To run or to stay," Heeseung continues, extending his arm from where he towers above them and slipping two fingers into Jaeyun's mouth quickly, smiling from ear to ear as he gags violently around thick digits and his face contorts in pain. It sounds beautifully rough and dirty—a work of art only the heavens deserve to witness. "That is the question."
Heeseung lets his fingers thrust in and out of Jaeyun's mouth a few times, Jongseong holding Jaeyun's head still with both hands. Jaeyun squeezes his eyes shut throughout it, the sounds repulsive as he gags again and again and again.
"What did you have for dinner, my prince?" Heeseung asks, and Jongseong watches as Heeseung clenches his jaw while he stares at the way his fingers disappear through Jaeyun's plump lips. "Shall we find out?"
"Stop, we cannot dirty his room like that," Jongseong chuckles, fingers nestled under Jaeyun's jaw to hold him in place as his mouth gets brutalized with just fingers. He leans forward once more to press his wet lips against the shell of the prince's ear to whisper, "is he being too mean?"
Jaeyun tries to speak but he can't, and Heeseung is pumping his fingers into his mouth about six more times before pulling them out entirely, bending over to wipe his hand against the fabric of the prince's robe that is now pooled around his waist, leaving his whole chest and back exposed. Jongseong lets go of Jaeyun's head and it instantly falls forward like he's lifeless. The prince stares at the hardwood floor, trying to recover, strings of saliva dripping down from his mouth onto the floor as it hangs open embarrassingly.
Watching him shiver as he recovers from getting his face fucked by fingers is pleasing to Jongseong and Heeseung, who have been resisting the urge to strike the prince accross the face for being so pretty, for keeping them hooked on him for so long, for being so jittery and sensitive. Maybe his nose or lips would bleed and he would have to just deal with it, even with a mouth full of cock. It's what he deserves.
"My prince," Heeseung coos, and Jaeyun lifts his head softly as he realizes Heeseung's voice is tremendously sensual and sweet, melodious to the point where he sounds more like an angel than a demon, and it is confusing to Jaeyun. "Are you ready for it?"
Jaeyun is feeling dizzy with arousal, eyes fluttering up at Heeseung who strokes himself thrice before he walks up close to where Jaeyun is being kept on his knees by Jongseong.
"Where are your manners?" Jongseong asks angrily, thighs firmly placed on either side of Jaeyun's own. He brings up his hands to run his fingers through the soft hair at the base of his scalp, and for a second the prince swallows back moans as he melts from the pleasurably soft touch, until Jongseong's hands are coming down his back, nails scraping over his sensitive skin painfully, leaving angry red lines on the way down. Jaeyun tries to stay still but he squirms inevitably at the way it burns. Jongseong is hypnotized, thinks red fits the young prince well. "He asked you a question."
"Not to worry," Heeseung interrupts, letting the head of his cock press against Jaeyun's pink lips that are sealed shut. Jaeyun closes his eyes the moment he feels it run against his lips and moisten them, and he refuses to taste it. "By the end of tonight he will be our well mannered pig."
Jaeyun tenses up at Heeseung's words and the feeling of his cock pressing harder against his lips now, rubbing all over his mouth and chin, dirtying him with precum. Seeing as the prince was in no mood to comply, Heeseung looks into Jongseong's eyes in a way that instantly lets him know what he must do. Jongseong reaches around for the discarded rope and takes advantage of the fact that the prince has his eyes closed to wrap it around his neck once again and pull, and the way he gasps in fear is enough for Heeseung to stuff his cock into his mouth in one go.
Jaeyun lets out a dangerously loud sound at the intrusion, garbled and muffled and vile, one that has Jongseong looking behind them in fear, hoping no guards hear.
"Your guards will hear you," Heeseung hisses out, pulling his slicked length out entirely before thrusting back in with his hand above the prince's head, right where his crown would rest. How convenient. "Our fun would have to end."
Jaeyun mutters something around his thick cock, throat constricting as he gags powerfully every time Heeseung pushes it a bit too far back.
Jongseong is humming the tune to a melody and it sounds so demeaning and cruel as his hands snake around Jaeyun's neck, both wrapping around it lightly.
"Come on Heeseung, deeper," he groans, tapping at Jaeyun's Adam's apple with his fingers. "I want to feel it down here. Our fair prince wants to as well."
Jaeyun is frightened, because he can barely take it as it threatens to push too far into his mouth, and he thinks that having his throat violated in a way that is so foreign to him might kill him.
"Will you be able to pray with cock rubbing up against the walls of your throat?" Heeseung inquires, hooking his thumbs into the corners of Jaeyun's mouth and spreading, sucking in a breath through his teeth at how the prince still manages to look dreamy like this. "God will not understand a word you say."
Jongseong ushers Heeseung, feeling needy and restless as he softly ruts against the back of Jaeyun's body where he holds him still, waiting. The wait is near unbearable, Jaeyun's smell and his innocent reactions to everything they do sending him into a frenzy he finds impossible to keep under control.
"Take him," Jongseong begins to leave open mouthed kisses over Jaeyun's naked back and shoulders. "Take him and lose a little bit of your sanity before I get rid of it completely while I take your virginity."
Jaeyun wails with Heeseung in his mouth, and in sick fashion, both of them smile at the lovely sound.
The rhythm Heeseung sets is too much for Jaeyun, cock abusing his throat too hard and too fast. His body lunges forward every time he gags violently, and Jongseong hooks his arms under Jaeyun's own to at least try to keep him upright to allow Heeseung to continue.
"So good," Heeseung groans out, running his fingers through his own ebony hair as he basks in the welcoming warmth of the prince's mouth, even while he's thrashing around and spasming uncontrollably. Jongseong's eyes are glued to the way Heeseung pistons his hips into Jaeyun's face, cock stirring in his pants thinking about how heavenly it must feel. "His mouth feels so good."
Jaeyun groans disgustingly around Heeseung's thick cock, knees attempting to spread out on their own in his current position, and when Heeseung finally pulls all the way out slowly with a pleased sigh, the mess of thickened saliva that leaves Jaeyun's mouth with it is truly vile. Heeseung loves it, scooping up all the gunk with his hand and smearing it over the prince's face. Jaeyun can't help but grimace in disgust at the feeling, his heart beating fast as Jongseong kisses his neck and whispers that it just makes him prettier.
Heeseung rubs his thumb over his lips hard, uncomfortably so, and suddenly he pushes up against the tip of Jaeyun's nose. The young prince looks up at him with one eye closed from when Heeseung got some of the gross saliva in it, eye shimmering with a hint of innocence even after he just got his face and throat destroyed by two men that put together are not worth half as much as he is.
"Pretty little pig, our royal whore."
Jaeyun shivers embarrassingly in Jongseong's grasp as both men chuckle at Heeseung's crude words, because he agrees. He might as well sleep with the pigs tonight considering he likes it.
≿━━༺✦༻━━≾
"Tie him up prettily," Heeseung smirks, watching as Jongseong undresses hurriedly, rope pooled besides his feet. Jaeyun is still kneeling on the floor, sweaty and dirty, and as Heeseung thinks about all the beautiful bruises that will adorn his knees, he can't help but smile. Jaeyun will think of them when he gets dressed and sees how they blossomed over his skin, Jaeyun will think of them when he kneels to pray and feels the pain. He'll surely remember all of it.
Would he cry when he does? Would he smile? Would he touch himself?
"It would be my pleasure," Jongseong chuckles, and with a wicked smirk he bows before the prince, "only if you would allow me to, your highness."
Jaeyun looks up shakily and takes a few deep breaths through his nose, because he believes this is illegal and punishable, their actions so disrespectful and demeaning they could get them killed with a single word. However, after being stuck in these walls for over twenty summers, Jaeyun cannot seem to shy away from such a foreign experience.
"Yes. You may."
His voice sounds so weak already, even before his body gets ripped to shreds, that it fills both Heeseung and Jongseong with pride—an insurmountable amount of it.
"Finally behaving," Jongseong smirks, stretching out the rope between his hands as he looks at Heeseung. You know what to do.
Heeseung looks even taller and it's near intimidating as he towers over Jaeyun and looks down into his tired red eyes. With rough hands, he pulls the prince to his feet and ushers him to get on his large bed, and it's a bed bigger and far more beautiful than any Jongseong and Heeseung have ever seen.
"It feels wrong to think about the terrible things we will do to you on sheets and pillows this lovely," Jongseong observes, hand coming down to rub over the sheets. They're as soft and welcoming as the skin on the young prince, and Jongseong figures dirtying one or the other, perhaps both at the same time, should not really be a problem. "However, my sweet Jaeyun, it will not stop us."
My sweet Jaeyun? The prince clenches his jaw as that, for although he is still hard where his robe barely clings onto his frame and his cheeks are tinted as Heeseung maneuvers his body to lay in a pretty position on his own bed, he still thinks of himself highly.
"Was not expecting it to," he groans out as Heeseung pins him down by the neck to lay face down on the soft sheets. "You two are like dogs, unable to control your sick impulses."
In less than a second, Jongseong rips off the robe that covered his lower body with pure brute force, and the two boys are met with the flesh of Jaeyun's ass laid out bare for them. Hurriedly, with a growl leaving his lips, Jongseong mounts the prince, and his weight makes Jaeyun groan out against the sheets his face rests on. The feeling of Jongseong's erection pressing against the cleft of his ass has him grabbing the sheets so hard his fingers hurt.
"If you want me to be a dog, I certainly can," he leans down to say against the prince's ear, rocking his hips back and forth subtly so Jaeyun can truly feel what is coming his way. Jongseong is big and incredibly thick, and the thought of a cock this large breaking his way into his small hole makes Jaeyun tremor. "You really are tempting me to. Filthy mutt."
Heeseung is incredibly aroused at what he's witnessing, more so than he was before, which he did not even consider a possibility. He finds himself stroking his cock involuntarily as he watches Jongseong rub his painfully erect cock against the helpless prince. In a hurry, knowing he will ejaculate all over the scene without even getting a turn at savoring the prince's untainted body if they do not pick up the pace, he hands Jongseong the rope.
"I think he will move too much while you rip him open."
Jongseong hums, pleased, and begins to loop the rope under the prince's torso. Like an expert, or a pervert who had been practicing it for months, soon there are pretty knots adorning Jaeyun's skin to perfectly tie his arms behind his back. They consider tying his legs or thighs too but quickly decide against it, concluding it would be far more sinister to watch the prince kick his legs out in pain and pleasure. They refuse to pass up the opportunity to watch his thighs quiver as he orgasms from the feeling of getting his prostate stimulated by some filthy commoners.
"How beautiful," Heeseung marvels, fingers running over the knotted rope over Jaeyun's back. "You did an amazing job."
"There are many places to hold," Jongseong points out, tugging at the rope situated right at the middle of his back. He's strong, long days of laboring his father's garden most certainly paying off, and the prince is lifted up from the bed and his back arches uncomfortably as he gasps at the sudden change. Heeseung sucks a sharp breath in through his teeth, cock twitching at how effortless it is to manhandle him while he's in such an utterly vulnerable state. "Tug, bend, rock, twist to your liking."
Jaeyun groans in pain and he's dropped to lay flat on his face against his bed again, and he takes shuddered breaths as he finally realizes how he's entirely at the mercy of the two men who are as rough as they are beautiful.
"Did you bring the oil?"
Heeseung is scrambling to pull a small vial from his discarded pants, and he brings it over with a smirk on his face. Jaeyun instantly knows its purpose and he finds himself trying to bite into the sheets of his bed as he prepares for what's coming.
"Allow me," Heeseung offers, and he's leaking some of the oil onto two of his fingers and rubbing the substance over his digits to coat them to perfection. "Sweet prince, I will stretch you out nicely. Take it like a man."
Jaeyun whines as a response, pained at the fact that he finds himself clenching around nothing, as if he were ready for it, waiting.
The moment Heeseung is leaning over the bed to rub his finger over his tight hole, Jaeyun is audibly praying, because he knows it will hurt. However, the fact that it will be pleasurable after hurts him more, and he begs for forgiveness beforehand.
"Praying already," Jongseong moans out, desperate. "I want to fuck him, want to ruin him so bad, please, hurry."
Heeseung is gulping at how breathless and whiny his best friend sounds, and as he slowly pushes his first finger in, his eyes inevitably roll into the back of his head at how tight the prince is.
"So tight," he groans out, and Jongseong whimpers embarrassingly beside him because he's salivating, wants to feel it too. "Certainly a virgin. Very surprising no guards have had their way with you when you're this pretty."
The moment he says that, Heeseung remembers the pretty guard he met outside, and he smiles. Although he is obsessive and sick towards Jaeyun, he cannot help but wonder if Jaeyun will let pretty guards like him come in and ravage him after tonight.
Jaeyun wails at the foreign feeling, rocking his hips back and forth slightly involuntarily, and he laces in a beg for them not to notice in his prayer.
In just a few minutes, Heeseung is stretching him open with multiple fingers, amazed at how well the prince had been able to take the initial stretch and the burn. However, he smiles diabolically as he realizes the prince will feel Jongseong's thick cock stretch him open next, and that will surely make him scream.
When he pulls out his fingers quickly, the mess of oil makes a loud squelching sound that has Jongseong's hips rocking forward on their own, as if hypnotized by the prince's lubricated fluttering hole. As Heeseung kneels in front of where the prince's head is pressed against the softness of his own bed, he smiles and strokes his hair.
"Want me to sing you a song?" he asks as he watches Jongseong position himself over Jaeyun's ass, biting his lip as he uses the rough palms of his dirty hands to rub his skin and spread his cheeks open. "Will it help you push through?"
The prince shakes his head no because that would be too humiliating, and Heeseung thinks it's adorable. He picks up the fallen robe and balls up a piece of it, reaches for the prince's hair and pulls, earning a pained gasp from Jaeyun who looks right into his eyes. They're glossy with tears.
With a smile, Heeseung asks him to open his mouth and he does. The fabric of his robe is being pushed into his open mouth, and the prince lets out muffled complaints against the fabric as Heeseung smooths down his hair and shushes him. He hears Jongseong spit and he knows. It's time.
"Can't have your mother knowing you enjoy getting defiled by dirty men, can we?"
Jaeyun cries, hard, both at Heeseung's words and at the fact that he pushes his hips back slightly when he feels the moist tip of Jongseong's cock press and prod against his entrance.
It was all too much, too fast. Jongseong was so thick that the initial push through did make the prince scream, and it took all of Heeseung's willpower to just brush the prince's hair and rub his thumb against his cheek as he sobbed. He wanted to masturbate to the sight, ejaculate all over Jaeyun's crying face, but he needed to be patient.
"Heeseung, my God," Jongseong pants out, already breathless after the first initial push. "Incredibly tight even with this mess of oil."
Jaeyun appreciates their words, for once, because it gives him a short respite and time to get used to the incredible girth of Jongseng's hard cock, the way it stretches him open tremendously, the way it burns.
"Mm, is it?" Heeseung inquires, pulling the prince's face up by his hair again. He was too pretty for him to allow him to get fucked with his face pressed to the bed. He holds Jaeyun's face with both hands where he's kneeling against the bed, figures he will hold him like this the whole time. "Take it, my dearest friend, you've been dreaming about it for so long."
Jongseong moans, and in a second he's pulling out entirely and slamming into the prince, who goes cross-eyed at the feeling as Heeseung holds his face between his warm hands. Jongseong does this a few more times, pulling out entirely slowly before ramming into him with such force the bed shakes with them on it. Brutal.
"You're ripping him apart," Heeseung gasps, thumbs wiping away at Jaeyun's tears. "He loves it."
Surely demons, Jaeyun thinks, because the moment Heeseung says that Jaeyun loves it, Jongseong is pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes the young prince see stars. A different prayer spills out of his lips, one that begs for this feeling to never cease.
"Please," he manages to whimper out as he spits out the fabric that was silencing him, and Heeseung raises his eyebrows. "More, please, please, plea—"
"The prince loves your thick cock," Heeseung looks up into Jongseong's eyes, and the fire that burns in them is nothing short of terrifying. "Give it to him hard."
Jongseong growls, twisting his fingers into the rope that adorns the prince's back, and while using that as an anchor he pounds against Jaeyun's ass so brutally the slapping echoes throughout every section of his large room. The prince lets out a wail with every sharp thrust, his whole body on fire as he battles with pain and pleasure, both overbearing and addictive.
The constant slap, slap, slap of Jongseong's hips against Jaeyun's ass coupled up with the sinful sounds they're both letting out has Heeseung's head spinning, and he's not sure how much longer he can take.
Every time he pulls back, the thick head of his cock gets caught on the tight rim, and Jongseong shivers. The prince surely feels as delicious as he looks, and Jongseong would sneak into the castle to burrow his cock deep into this tight heat every single day if he could without being executed.
"My prince, you are like a dream," he says, and his hand comes down with a hard slap against Jaeyun's ass, and the prince writhes around in pain as he cries, harder than before. "Will you forgive me for being so brutal?"
Even without receiving a response, Jongseong presses his hands into Jaeyun's lower back so his ass sticks out better, and it creates a new angle that allows him to thrust in deeper. He's so lost in pleasure he's babbling out nonsense, and Heeseung embarrassingly thinks his best friend would look splendid while getting fucked this hard, too.
"I won't last much longer," he whines in warning, pace at which he is hammering into the prince truly absurd. His arms are shaking and his toned body is covered in a sheer layer of sweat which the light emitting from the surrounding candles catches perfectly.
"We should do it together," Heeseung comments, and soon he is letting the prince's face fall onto the bed to continue his muffled crying and moaning as he moves towards Jongseong. He's hypnotized, body on overdrive as he lets the frenzy of arousal consume him and his hips move on their own. The prince is too fair, too responsive, too soft, too tight. Heeseung finds himself needing to grab on to Jongseong's sweaty hips to make him stop, and he gulps. "Wait for me, please."
Jongseong whimpers painfully as he pulls out because he was so close, and it makes the prince groan out hard against his own bedsheets. Jongseong is taking deep breaths to calm down, teetering over the edge as he shakily watches Heeseung lube himself up. He figures it's only right that they finish over the sweet prince together.
Heeseung flips Jaeyun over, pushing his knees into his chest roughly and watching his already abused hole clench around nothing. Empty.
Jaeyun stares up at the high ceiling of his room, tears still spilling out of the corners of his eyes at how empty he feels and how amazing it felt to get fucked. It hurts him, the fact that he knows he was close to orgasming untouched. How humiliating.
"Not done with you yet, your highness," Heeseung is panting already as he lines up with Jaeyun's hole. This position makes it so much worse for the prince, the fact that Heeseung can look right into his eyes as he rips his ass apart just purely demeaning in nature. Jongseong is scrambling to stand by the edge of the bed, where Jaeyun gets a good view of his hard cock over his face. "Such a pretty prince, such an insatiable little whore."
With his arms bound behind his back and his knees pressed to his chest, Jaeyun watches Heeseung let more oil drip over his entrance and he is in so much pain he finds it hard to breathe. Even so, he finds his legs quivering in excitement, the feeling of Jongseong abusing his prostate earlier too addictive for him to forget it.
When Heeseung pushes through, he lets out a guttural groan. Jongseong stretched him open just enough, but the prince is still unbelievably tight. Heeseung has been on the edge all night, and he knows it won't take long for him to spill all over the prince as he gives his first shaky thrust.
"I would rip you apart every night if I could," Heeseung pants out, picking up the pace to slam his cock into Jaeyun's hole even with his thighs shaking at the pleasure. His hips are moving erratically on their own. "You suck me in like you worship me."
Jaeyun nods desperately, blinking tears away to look up into Jongseong's dark eyes. He's stroking his cock over them, occasionally stopping to edge himself as he waits for his best friend while panting and struggling to breathe. Heeseung is moaning so beautifully, grip on Jaeyun's legs incredibly strong as he holds him down like a breeding hound, that Jongseong feels like he could pass out.
The prince can feel his sanity slip away and he's getting louder, incredibly so, begging Heeseung to fuck him harder, faster, deeper unashamedly like a whore. Jongseong finds himself wrapping his big hands around the prince's throat and squeezing just enough to have his veins bulge and his eyes roll back. He chuckles whenever he loosens his grip and the prince gasps for air through embarrassing whines and moans.
Jongseong leaves his left hand firmly wrapped around Jaeyun's throat, and with his right he starts working his cock with his tight fist as he watches Heeseung pound into Jaeyun like a wild animal, never breaking eye contact with the young prince.
"You brought this upon yourself," he groans down at Jaeyun who stares up at him with eyes that just say please. "Too fucking pretty."
"I'm so close," Heeseung whines out and it's high pitched, beautiful, raw. He's fucking the prince at incredible speed and depth, enough for Jongseong to know he will gape prettily once they're done with him. He thinks they should drag the prince by his hair, tie him up to a tree they can always come back to when they need to. "Cum with me, Jongseong, I beg of you."
Jongseong is nodding rapidly, fist working over his hard shaft and head in time with Heeseung's powerful thrusts, and as he realizes Heeseung is using one of his hands to touch Jaeyun's cock he can't control the crude moan that spills past his lips.
"Prince Jaeyun," Heeseung groans out, enamored by the way he looks so lightheaded from the way Jongseong keeps choking him. "Are you going to cum with us? Spurt your cum all over yourself while we use you to our liking?"
A choked out sound leaves Jaeyun's constricted throat, and it sounds so dirty and raw that it drives Jongseong and Heeseung mad. With approximately ten more strokes, the prince's voice starts to raise in pitch and without warning, he finishes all over himself messily where Heeseung is stroking his cock. The mixture of getting stimulated from both ends is too much for the prince, who tries to thrash around in pleasure but is being held down by strong hands. He lets out garbled noises of pure pleasure with Jongseong's hand still firmly placed over his neck, unrelenting.
"So dirty," Heeseung groans out, and the way the prince's mouth hangs open for so long drool starts to dribble out of it sends him over the edge, moans and curses erupting out of his throat as he hurriedly pulls out to finish all over the prince's torso. It mixes prettily with Jaeyun's own cum, and the way the prince stares into his eyes as he empties himself over his dirty, spent body drives him mad.
Jongseong is following soon after, groans squeezing through his gritted teeth as the veins on both of his arms bulge violently. He fists his cock through his orgasm as he looks down into Jaeyun's eyes, making sure to leak all over his pretty face while he continues to press down on his throat occasionally.
"This was all I wanted," he whines out as he strokes his remaining cum out of his cock over the prince's cheek, some of it landing in his open mouth. "Take it all, every last fucking drop."
Jaeyun finds himself nodding like the obedient pig they said he would be when the night had just begun, and he sobs, both in pain and in pleasure, so spent that everything after that became a blur.
≿━━༺✦༻━━≾
As Heeseung and Jongseong slip out of the bathroom, taking dirty rags they used to clean themselves and the prince with them, Heeseung wonders how they have not stumbled upon guards on their adventure. As they turn the corner, he swears he hears a soft sound, but he quickly slips past the candlelight with Jongseong as they scurry to leave right through where they entered, not knowing the pretty guard with porcelain skin was pressed to the wall, chest heaving with his hand shoved in his pants. Some things are better left unknown.
≿━━༺✦༻━━≾
When Jaeyun wakes to a soft knock on his door, he is clean but still undressed. Terrified of being found in his current state, he scrambles for his robe which is still thrown beside his bed and wraps it around his body as quickly as he can with how sore he is. As he looks down, he realizes his body is littered with marks he must now try to conceal, and as he embarrassingly catches himself smiling at the memory of the night prior, he realizes the two men got exactly what they wanted. Jaeyun's mind and body were broken, and here he is, wanting more.
He would never admit it, but the aftermath arouses him to a degree that should not be allowed, and as he presses on the beautiful bruises that blossomed around his hips and on his knees he realizes he must stop. What is he doing? He does not remember if they ever said their names.
The prince cries uncontrollably that night, mostly because his pride has been broken beyond repair, but also because he is pleasuring himself shamefully at faint memories of the two mysterious boys who should have taken him into the woods with them to never return.