poppy_sky | The Red Caravan [6 B]

Pairings: YunJae
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: boyxboy, no historical/geographic setting, AU, adult themes.
Summary: It's Spring time in the capital and everybody rejoices when the Red Caravan and its performers arrive, signaling the start of festival season, however, Prince Yunho is also in town, returning after three years battling in the Holy Land. What happens when the Red Caravan's most famous peformer, Kim Jaejoong, and Prince Yunho meet?
A/N: Part B, ladies and gentlemen. If you find something that doesn't make any sense tell me because I wrote a lot of this part half-asleep LOL.

Morning greeted Yunho in the form of glaring light streaming through the big windows in his room. In his haste to get in bed he had forgotten to tell the servants to keep his room as dark as possible because he had no intention of waking up early that day.

He groaned and covered his eyes, rolling under the soft sheets so that the sun would not hit his sleep-ridden eyes. He did not want to get up and close the curtains himself and could not fall asleep again with that amount of light flooding the room. He didn’t have to think too much about it though because a second later his door rattled with vigorous knocking.

The double-doors opened shortly after, a small boy making his way shyly into the room. Taking notice of the prince’s state of undress he blushed, hiding the red of his cheeks by bowing deeply. Yunho almost chuckled at the kid. He must be new, he thought. Rarely did he get servants that would feel uncomfortable with the royals’ nakedness, seeing as a lot of them helped said men and women dress.

“Y-your Highness, the King requests your presence in the King’s studio as soon as possible,” he said quickly enough that Yunho figured it took the kid only one breath to say it all.

The boy could not be older than fourteen. The scrawny frame and the bony limbs could have been of an eight-year-old but Yunho knew better; malnutrition and hard-work sucked the life from the adults but also kept the young ones looking like children a whole lot longer.

“Run a bath for me,” Yunho ordered, stifling a yawn behind his palm.

The boy looked at him confused for a moment and didn’t move until Yunho pointed at the door leading to the adjacent room, his annoyance mitigated by the amusement he got from the boy’s lack of experience.

It could also have been that the boy’s large eyes reminded him of someone.

When the bath was prepared and the kid was back in his room, Yunho crawled from under the covers, letting the sheets peel away from his barely-clothed body, and watched as the boy before him stared with a mix of embarrassment and mortification.

“What’s your name, kid?” Yunho asked, not really looking at the youngster.

“Taemin, sir,” the boy answered, eyes still glued to Yunho’s chest.

“Well then, Taemin, don’t move from there until I’m done,” Yunho said and closed the door to the bathroom behind himself, not waiting for an answer.

He took his time, knowing very well that the boy was standing dutifully where he had last left him. He eased his body into the hot water, the floral-scented steam relaxing his travel-sore muscles but his mind stood in turmoil.

He was bewitched, lost in his own infatuation for a man he barely knew and he wanted to get rid of the feeling. He sighed and wondered if he would ever be free of the curse that had befallen on him ever since meeting the beautiful performer.

He had been a good man before returning to the capital. He did his duty to his kingdom and to God; he fought bravely and treated his knights well. If he ever had a lust-filled thought it implied the warm and soft flesh of a beautiful maiden and not the pale hardness of a certain man’s body that was the vivid image of devilish beauty.

What sin was he paying for then, that he was punished with the devil’s temptation residing in the capital and within his every thought?

Leisurely he got out of the tub, droplets of water crawling down his body and onto the sleek tiles beneath his feet. He dried himself with the large towel lying next to the tub and wrapped a crimson robe over his still damp body before returning to his bedroom, the steam trailing behind him and into the next room like an affection-starved kitten.

The first thing Yunho saw when he entered the large room was a lanky figure standing a few steps from his bed. He smirked to himself, noticing the boy was standing just where he had last left him, stiff as a plank. His bed was made though, and the clothes that were once scattered all over the place were nowhere to be seen. He wanted to point that out, tell the boy he knew he had moved and to watch him squirm, but decided to let it pass.

He casually walked to the bed and sat down, amused at how the boy blushed and bowed upon noticing his presence in the room.

“What are you waiting for? Where are my clothes?” Yunho asked, looking around with a bored expression.

That boy, Taemin, looked completely puzzled and Yunho had to roll his eyes. Don’t they train them before sending them to the palace?

“Do I have to teach you everything…” he muttered, annoyance tinting his voice, and pointed towards a large dresser richly decorated with ivory, “There.”

While the boy picked out his clothes he decided to take a look outside the window. The sky looked clear with barely a hint of clouds in the horizon. The heat was starting to settle in the capital, and even with the windows slightly parted Yunho could feel small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He refused to look onto the main square lest his eyes wandered in search of a familiar mop of golden locks.

Prying himself away from the window he returned his attention to the clothes laid out on top of his bed. Taemin looked shyly at the floor, tapping the heels of his shoes against the other every once in a while.

“Those will do for now,” he mumbled, peeling the robe from his shoulders. “Now, pass me those underpants.”

♥ ♥ ♥

There was a knock on the door to the studio that had the King looking up from the letter he was reading. The page at the door cleared his throat and made way for the doors to be opened completely.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Yunho,” he announced.

The confident, almost martial-sounding steps of his son reached his ears before said man entered the studio. The King took in the proud appearance of his only son and turned away to hide a fond smile; he was going to be a great ruler someday.

Yunho approached the King respectfully and kissed his hand.

“Good Morning Father. You called?”

“What took you so long?” the King grumbled but folded the letter in front of him and put it aside. He motioned towards the sofas and the low table in the middle of the room. “Take a seat, son.”

Yunho complied, waiting for the King to sit down first before mirroring his actions. A maid approached the two men with a tray of tea and pastries but the King waved her away, annoyed.

“The peasants have gone quiet,” the King said somberly.

“What do you mean?” asked Yunho. “They’re as loud as ever.”

“I meant about you. The novelty has worn off,” the King explained, resting his chin on his fingers. “I need you to keep them talking, make them feel familiar with you.”

“Well, I already go to that forsaken festival every day, what else am I supposed to do?” Yunho asked, obviously not happy with the idea.

“That, my dear boy, is up to you. Don’t think I don’t notice you leaving for the summer palace with that good-for-nothing cousin of yours. You’ve had your holiday and it’s time to face your responsibilities again.”

Yunho tried not to frown at the King’s scolding but could not stop his mouth from becoming a thin, tense line on his face.

The King took the letter again and opened it, waving Yunho away in dismissal not unlike he had done with the maid.

“Go on son, kingdoms aren’t built by sitting down and staring at this old king.”

♥ ♥ ♥

Yunho waited until he was a good few meters away from the studio before he started stomping his feet. He knew he was being childish, throwing a tantrum like that, but he could not help being angry with the King.

He was sick of playing peasant and mingling with them. Before long he will become the laughing stock of every single royal house in the world. Not to mention that if his father hadn’t insisted on him going to that cursed festival he would not be in the horrible predicament he was in for he would not have met that Jaejoong fellow. Life would have been as simple as it can be when you’re the heir to the throne not to mention he would be at peace with his thoughts and his desires.

Heading towards the stables intent on going for a ride to blow some steam he almost toppled over when a small figure appeared out of nowhere and stood in front of him.

“Your Highness,” Taemin greeted while bowing.

Yunho pressed his palm against his racing heart. He had been so focused in his anger the boy’s sudden appearance had startled him. If he did not made himself scarce though, he would become subject to Yunho’s frustrations.

“What is it?” Yunho asked, not even bothering to hide his annoyance anymore.

Taemin flinched at Yunho’s harsh tone, but did not move. Instead he pulled a familiar jar from his pocket. “The dog keeper told me he ran out of ointment this morning. If your Highness could tell me where to get more I could go fetch it, sir.”

Yunho was about to tell Taemin where to find the red caravan’s sorcerer but when the face of a certain person flashed behind his eyes and his father’s words ran inside his brain he changed his mind.

Taking the jar out of Taemin’s hands he continued on his way to the stables.
“I’ll go get it myself, don’t worry about it kid.”

♥ ♥ ♥

The dark mantle of night tends to make distances seem longer, thought Yunho as he found the ride to the main square shorter when everything was lit by warm sunlight. He was standing a few steps away from the caravan, already having jumped down from his horse but reluctant to continue. What if Jaejoong was inside? And What if he wasn’t? Yunho made a face, disgusted at his own thoughts and forced himself to walk towards the billowing flap of red canvas.

He knocked on the wooden boards of the caravan before climbing inside. Surprisingly enough there was nobody inside. Yunho marveled at how the temperature inside the caravan felt significantly cooler than outside. He was about to turn around and leave when he heard some shuffling going on outside.

“Oi, lazy bastards, help me out!”
Parting the caravan’s flaps Yunho came face to face with Changmin who was carrying several baskets of unknown herbs on his back and both his arms, seemingly toppling under their weight.

“Oh, it’s the prince,” Changmin said when he spotted Yunho staring dumbfolded at him.

“Well, don’t just stand there, help me with these!” he exclaimed and handed Yunho the baskets hanging from his arms.

Yunho took the baskets and set them down inside the caravan with difficulty. They were really heavy and he could only wonder for how long the young sorcerer had been carrying them. Said man climbed inside as well, dropping his own burden next to where Yunho had left the rest and started going through all of them, hands busy feeling every leaf.

Yunho was about to speak when he was interrupted by Changmin.

“He’s not here, you know? Left early in the morning and he hasn’t returned ever since.”

Yunho’s expression turned into a strange mix of crestfallen and relieved but he arranged it before the sorcerer could turn around and see. “I actually came to see you.”

“What for?” Changmin asked, still not looking up from his herbs.

Yunho pulled out the jar and set it on the wooden floor of the caravan were they were sitting.

“I ran out of medicine for my dog,” he stated.

Changmin hummed but said nothing. The sorcerer was still not looking at him, seemingly more interested in separating leaves by shape and color than looking at the prince in the eye which was starting to annoy Yunho.

“What do you need so many herbs for anyway?”

“These leaves, just like you, young Prince, are made up of mostly water. They become almost nothing once you dry them,” Changmin explained in a tone that hinted how stupid he thought Yunho was.

Finally setting the herbs aside, Changmin took out his cauldron-like pot and set it on top of some lit embers. Water and a handful of carefully picked herbs went into it and before long the liquid started to boil.

“Changmin, have you seen Jiji?” a soft voice seemed to appear out of nowhere.

When Yunho looked around trying to find the source of the melodious sound he spotted the subject of his torment poking his beautiful head through the opening in the canvas flaps. Jaejoong’s eyes did not take long in finding Yunho’s figure sitting inside the enclosure either and they went wide, his rosy lips forming a silent ‘o’ of surprise.

“I haven’t seen your demon cat, and I hope I never have to again,” Changmin replied.

Not one to miss out on anything he noticed the looks exchanged between the prince and his friend and smiled knowingly to himself.

“Why don’t you take Prince Yunho with you? You know I work better when left alone. Now go,” he said and motioned for the Prince to go with the blonde, practically kicking him out of the caravan.

“Come on,” Jaejoong said regaining his composure and waited until Yunho climbed down from the caravan. He started walking not before setting what looked like sardines in a wooden bowl under the caravan.

“Where are we going?” Yunho asked, following behind Jaejoong’s quick strides.

“Just follow me,” the blonde replied.

As they went around the cathedral Yunho felt a sudden shiver creep up his spine. Looking up at the somber building looming over the capital like a omniscient guardian he could not help the guilt from spreading through his body. He could not remember the last time he had gone to mass since he arrived from the Holy Land.

Soon enough they left the asphyxiating shadow of the cathedral and entered the marketplace. From Yunho’s left and right women and men alike shrieked prices at the people passing by, shoving their freshly harvested tomatoes and pieces of ham supposedly “the best meat in the kingdom, sir, our pigs have won the fair for ten consecutive years” into Yunho’s face, confusing him and making him lose sight of Jaejoong.

Standing in the middle of the loud chaos of voices, sights and smells Yunho felt himself start to panic. Where the hell was Jaejoong? How did he get out of that horrible place? The blood pounding in his ears deafened every other sound as his heart beat frantically inside his chest.

Suddenly a warm hand grabbed his and upon seeing who it belonged to his whole body relaxed. The sight of Jaejoong’s concerned face as he pulled him out of the market had him releasing the breath he did not even know he was holding.

“Are you okay? Sorry for taking you through there but going around it would’ve taken us hours,” Jaejoong explained, watching as Yunho’s pale face regained its color.

“I’m fine,” Yunho said, scowling to hide his bruised pride. He could not believe himself, panicking like that inside a marketplace. Being in the middle of battle was a hundred times worse and yet, when he lost sight of Jaejoong…

The hand that was firmly clasped around his released him and he could not help but to feel a small pang of disappointment.

“Let’s continue, we’re almost there,” the blonde said and continued walking.

The buildings reduced in size as they reached the walled limits of the capital. Where in the middle of the city the buildings stood large and close to each other, the buildings around the perimeter of the capital could not even be addressed as such. Shacks made of rotting wood and straw announced the beginning of the slums. Small groups of dirty children played in the filthy mud that gathered on the side of the streets, looking at the two passing men with distrust in their dark eyes. Yunho flinched at the intensity of their stare and looked away, suddenly much more interested in the rays of light bouncing off Jaejoong’s fair locks.

They crossed the city gates, the guards saluting in respect as Yunho walked through. The stone-paved road gave way to a wider one; this one covered was made of dirt and snaked around the many patches of cultivated land around the city and into the woods. It was already noon so it was not surprising to find the fields bare of any farmers, the weather being too hot at that time of the day to get any work done. Yunho felt himself sweating inside the elegant but heavy clothes he wore, feeling slightly jealous of Jaejoong whose loose shirt kept him cool despite the warm day.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” Yunho asked, already fed up with the unbearable temperature.

“It’s not that much farther ahead, hang on,” Jaejoong said reassuringly just as they entered the soothing shade of the woods.

Jaejoong lead Yunho away from the dirt road and into the thickness of trees and shrubs. Walking through that terrain was hard on both of them, having to slow down their pace to avoid tripping over raised tree roots or stepping into any rabbit holes.

Yunho heard the sound of water before spotting the shallow river they seemed to be heading towards. Finding a break through the trees they stepped into the well-lit clearing through which ran the crystalline waters of the river.

“Here we are,” Jaejoong announced with a grin and started peeling his shirt off.

Yunho’s breath caught in his throat upon the sight of the wide expanse of milky skin running from a set of wide shoulders and wrapping around Jaejoong’s thin waist. He had seen many of his men undress in front of him without so much as a blink but as soon as the blond man in front of him started stripping down his pants he felt heat crawl up his cheeks, giving them a pinkish hue.

Jaejoong laughed joyfully as he ran towards the river and jumped in with a splash. When he came out from under the surface, water dripping from his golden hair and running down his chest and around his pink nipples to join the river again, Yunho had to admit he looked downright sinful.

“Well, aren’t you going to come in? I bet you’re cooking like a steamed bun under those clothes,” Jaejoong grinned at Yunho, who stood rooted to his spot.

“It’s not proper,” Yunho deadpanned.

“To hell with proper, nobody is going to see you here,” Jaejoong countered before he disappeared under the surface again.

Yunho cleared his throat and looked around before he started pulling at the many buttons on his embroidered shirt. The thick material fell of his shoulders and onto the leaf-covered ground once the buttons were undone. His undershirt was next, joining the shirt in a haphazardly-made pile of fabric. Yunho hesitated before taking off his pants but the carefree laughter coming from a very wet Jaejoong inside the river made the decision for him.

He was already going to Hell, might as well enjoy himself a little.

He sprinted towards the river and jumped in before he could change his mind. The water was cold, that’s for sure, and the rocks under his feet were slimy and hard to stand on but it was refreshing after walking so much under the sun.

Yunho took a big breath before submerging his head under the surface. Opening his eyes he noticed he could see through the crystalline water thanks to the shallowness of that part of the river and the light filtering through the treetops. He took a small swim close to the rocky bottom before his oxygen-starved lungs forced him to break through the surface.

When he opened his eyes after rubbing the water off them he noticed Jaejoong sitting on what seemed to be a rocky platform next to the riverbank, lost in thought. The water would’ve covered him modestly if it had not been completely see through, proudly baring Jaejoong’s naked form to the world.

“What are you thinking about?” Yunho found himself asking while he swam towards the other man, the slight current of the river pushing him to the side and making his job more difficult.

“Just wondering what was so bad about our play that you didn’t like it,” Jaejoong said just as Yunho reached the platform and sat down next to him. “Why didn’t you like it?”

Yunho sighed. “It’s the standard story; a damsel in distress gets saved by a brave knight, they fall in love and live happily ever after. It’s stupid and unreal.”

“Those are the type of stories people want to listen to, you know?” Jaejoong said.

“Stupid peasants believing stupid stories about fantasies like dragons and love,” Yunho said with a snort.

“You’re saying love doesn’t exist?” Jaejoong asked eyes wide and—Yunho dared to think—a little offended. That’s when Yunho remembered Yoochun’s words. Of course, Jaejoong was a romantic, probably in love with the idea of love itself.

“I’m just saying it’s not as simple,” Yunho tried to explain, not knowing exactly why.

Jaejoong made a non-committal sound and climbed down from the rock he was sitting on, preferring to swim around for a while.

“You wouldn’t know love if it slapped you in the face,” Jaejoong finally said, smugness evident in his voice.

Yunho rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you teach me, oh almighty erudite of love, if you know so much about it?”

Jaejoong was quiet for a moment, the sounds of the forest being the only other source of sound before he approached Yunho. The beautiful man placed strong arms on both sides of Yunho and looked at him death in the eye.

Yunho watched as the once fierce stare softened to a point that it almost portrayed raw insecurity.

“Only if you let me,” Jaejoong whispered softly against Yunho’s lips before closing the small distance altogether.