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Hwanwoong is bored.
All day, every day, he is tugged this way and that, tossed from tutor to tutor. And while he might be learning new history or new arithmetic, it is still terribly boring. He longs for more active pursuits– horse riding, knight training, combat– and so, when his father finally agreed to hire a swordfighting teacher, he was thrilled.
But now, he’s bored again.
“Again,” his teacher, Keonhee, says, stepping away from him. Hwanwoong adjusts his posture poorly on purpose, so that Keonhee will make a disappointed face and come to correct it, like he knew he would. “Head up,” Keonhee says, putting a hand underneath Hwanwoong’s chin to raise his head. His hands are warm and lightly calloused. Keonhee presses a hand between Hwanwoong’s shoulder blades, forcing him to straighten his back. Keonhee’s hand slides down his arm to adjust his grip around the hilt of his rapier. After a moment’s consideration, Keonhee drops his hands to Hwanwoong’s hips to physically turn him, so that Hwanwoong is facing more to the side.
“There,” Keonhee says, satisfied with Hwanwoong’s posture. It isn’t the first time he has manually adjusted his posture today, and it will not be the last if Hwanwoong has his way about it.
Keonhee draws his own rapier. They’ve graduated from wooden practice swords, to blunt swords, and finally to sharp blades. King Yeo had this rapier forged for Hwanwoong long ago, as a ceremonial kind of thing, and now Hwanwoong actually gets to use it.
It’s still easy to see why Keonhee is the teacher, and not Hwanwoong. He easily disarms Hwanwoong, flicking his rapier to the side carelessly, and then puts the tip of his blade beneath Hwanwoong’s chin. They make eye contact– Keonhee’s gaze is focused, almost cold with it. If Hwanwoong were to lean forward, just a bit, he would surely cut himself on the edge of the blade.
“Again,” Keonhee says.
As Hwanwoong returns to his position, a novel idea occurs to him. Keonhee, outside of these lessons, has never really interacted with him much, but what he has seen of Keonhee is that he is sweet, a kind soul, with a good heart and somewhat goofy humor. Keonhee lives at the palace, as do all of Hwanwoong’s tutors– the accommodations are part of their payment for teaching Hwanwoong’s lazy, stubborn ass– so Hwanwoong has seen him around, seen him chatting with some of the servants, his smile broad and eyes closed in good humor.
Hwanwoong looks at Keonhee, then, his teacher settled into a defensive pose. His eyes trace the long lines of Keonhee’s body, across his broad shoulders and lean legs. Keonhee shifts his weight a little, obviously waiting for Hwanwoong to make the first move. It doesn’t take a genius to recognize that Keonhee is attractive, the curve of his mouth sweet, his cheeks full, eyes round and shining in the sunshine streaming through the archway.
Hwanwoong wants him.
Hwanwoong sheathes his rapier, crossing the distance between them. Keonhee keeps his sword level, and Hwanwoong takes two fingers and pushes his blade to the side. Keonhee is staring at him curiously, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in his confusion.
Hwanwoong is not exactly a shy person. Quite the opposite, if you were to ask anybody around the palace. He places his hands on Keonhee’s shoulders, and Keonhee tenses beneath his hands. “I’m bored,” Hwanwoong whines.
Keonhee looks intensely unsure of himself, looking anywhere but at Hwanwoong’s face. “We– we can stop, for the day.”
Hwanwoong takes another step forward, further pressing into Keonhee’s personal space. Keonhee is forced to take a step back to accommodate Hwanwoong’s body, taking special care to leave room between their bodies. Hwanwoong takes another step, and another, Keonhee continuing to step backwards, until Keonhee’s back hits the wall.
“I think I have another idea of what we could do,” Hwanwoong says, voice sweet as honey. Keonhee is– blushing, already, stammering as Hwanwoong lifts a hand to cup Keonhee’s cheek.
“M-My prince, I’m not sure what you mean,” Keonhee eventually chokes out. Hwanwoong strokes his thumb beneath Keonhee’s eye, feeling the soft skin there.
“You must know that you’re handsome, right, Keonhee?” Hwanwoong asks, tilting his head to the side slightly. Keonhee is definitely blushing now, still desperately looking around the room, as if searching for someone to save him. “And with how freely you put your hands on me, you must be able to guess where this could go.”
“My prince,” Keonhee says, voice still strained. “I would never– that is not my intention–”
“But it is mine,” Hwanwoong says, a more commanding edge to his voice. Keonhee snaps his mouth shut, eyes searching Hwanwoong’s face. He’s beginning to sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. “So what do you say, Keonhee? Will you refuse your prince?”
Hwanwoong knows it is cruel, to leverage his position like this. If Keonhee resists, he will certainly let it go. Keonhee keeps looking at his mouth. “My prince,” Keonhee says, barely a whisper, “what are you suggesting?”
Hwanwoong drops his hands to Keonhee’s hips, pulling them forward away from the wall. He presses their bodies together, and Keonhee yelps, putting his hands on Hwanwoong’s shoulders to maintain some space between them. “I am suggesting that you fuck me,” Hwanwoong says pleasantly, a sweet smile on his face.
Keonhee is shaking his head fervently. “My prince, I could never–”
“What if I am asking for it?” Hwanwoong asks. Keonhee opens his mouth to speak, no doubt more protests, so Hwanwoong continues instead. “Your hands–” he reaches for Keonhee’s hands, putting them onto his hips. “They fit so perfectly on me, don’t they, Keonhee?”
Keonhee’s fingers curl, digging into Hwanwoong’s flesh slightly. He looks at a complete loss for words, but his body speaks for him– Hwanwoong can feel him half-hard in his breeches. Hwanwoong gazes up at Keonhee through his eyelashes, and he sees Keonhee swallow, hard. “My prince…” Keonhee trails off. His breath is coming quicker, the rise and fall of his chest fast.
Hwanwoong grabs hold of Keonhee’s lapels, tugging on them sharply. Keonhee does not resist the movement, bending slightly at the waist like Hwanwoong wants him to. Hwanwoong purposefully puts their faces very close together, the short distance to Keonhee’s mouth enticing. He sees Keonhee squeeze his eyes shut.
“Prince Yeo!” a voice calls from the hallway behind them. Keonhee’s eyes fly open, and Hwanwoong keeps them close for just a moment longer before he innocently steps away from Keonhee, turning just as a servant enters the room. “Ah, my prince,” she curtsies slightly, “your father the King wishes to see you.”
Hwanwoong rolls his eyes openly. “Thank you for letting me know.” The servant scuttles out of the room, and Hwanwoong turns back to Keonhee. Keonhee looks relieved at the distance between them, a hand pressed to his chest as he catches his breath. “I’ll be seeing you, Keonhee.”
“My prince,” Keonhee says, his voice still slightly choked. He bows slightly as Hwanwoong turns to leave.
They see each other once a week. This time, Hwanwoong notices that Keonhee is letting him fight with a poor posture, unwilling to approach him to adjust it manually as he is so used to doing. He keeps looking at Hwanwoong strangely, like he cannot quite believe his eyes, and his distraction means that Hwanwoong is able to disarm him, pinning his sword arm to the ground with the flat of his blade.
Keonhee looks up at him, blinking in almost disbelief. He looks beautiful on his knees.
Hwanwoong tosses his rapier aside carelessly, hearing it clatter to his left as he descends onto Keonhee, pushing his way into his lap. Keonhee makes a noise of surprise, quickly swallowed by Hwanwoong slotting their mouths together. He keeps a hand on Keonhee’s chin, not holding him still but applying a light pressure all the same.
Keonhee’s mouth falls open, and Hwanwoong takes the opportunity to explore, pressing boundaries, seeing how far he can get. Keonhee surprises him by meeting his tongue, licking into Hwanwoong’s mouth as well, brushing over his teeth. Hwanwoong can feel a light presence around his waist, as if Keonhee’s hands are hovering, too scared to touch him.
“Please,” Keonhee says, and Hwanwoong isn’t sure what he’s asking for. “My prince–”
“Come with me?” Hwanwoong says, his voice turning up at the end. He doesn’t want to demand it– he has room to make his demands, while still leaving Keonhee open to say no. He does not wish to coerce.
“Your father will kill me–”
“Not if he knows that I am requesting it,” Hwanwoong says matter-of-factly. “His son gets what he wants, after all.” Keonhee still looks unsure. Hwanwoong places a hand gentle on Keonhee’s cheek. “You are free to say yes, or no. And I will keep you safe, if you say yes.”
Keonhee wets his lips, his eyes darting around Hwanwoong’s face. He must find something in his expression, because he takes a deep breath and nods. Hwanwoong grins at him, delighted.
Hwanwoong rises to his feet, waiting for Keonhee to stand as well before he leads them off to his bedchamber. Their rapiers are still discarded on the floor. He can sense Keonhee’s hesitation, even as he lets Hwanwoong lead him by the hand, their fingers curled together softly.
Hwanwoong pushes open the door to his room, finding that the servants have been in to clean already today. Perfect– this lowers their chances of being disturbed. On the other hand, if anybody needs him they will go to the arena, expecting to find him there. And then things might get a little… harder to explain.
Hwanwoong decides he doesn’t care all that much as he roughly pulls his slippers off before he pushes Keonhee against the wall once more, an echo of last week’s encounter. Keonhee kisses him back with more gusto this time, seeming a smidge more confident now that they are in private. Or perhaps, now that his autonomy has been established. Hwanwoong still has to grab his hands and put them on his body, but once he does Keonhee slides them where he wants them– one on Hwanwoong’s ass, the other in the small of his back.
“If I may, my prince,” Keonhee says breathlessly, “... why me?”
Hwanwoong smiles, the corners of his mouth curling. “You are gorgeous,” he says, meaning every word, loving the way Keonhee’s cheeks color. “And you’ve never been afraid to correct me, like my other tutors. I like that. I like to be treated as a person, rather than as a royal.”
Keonhee nods softly. This time, he is the one to dip down, put their mouths together once again, their lips slick against one another. Keonhee’s fingers dig into the flesh of Hwanwoong’s ass, and he thinks that it would be so easy for Keonhee to pick him up, press him against the wall–
Hwanwoong pulls away so that he can untie Keonhee’s overcoat, Keonhee shrugging it off in turn. He undoes the tie at the top of Keonhee’s blouse, revelling in the sight of the skin at the base of his neck, looking forward to putting his mouth on it later, to digging his teeth in, leaving behind a bruise. He doesn’t just want the sex, he wants Keonhee to be his, wants everyone in the palace to know it.
Hwanwoong takes a step back, Keonhee chasing his mouth, staying close. Hwanwoong leads them to the bed in this manner, letting himself fall back onto it, relishing Keonhee’s weight as Keonhee climbs atop him. Keonhee carefully brushes a hand through Hwanwoong’s hair, giving him a small, genuine smile as he does. Hwanwoong returns the smile, adrenaline thrumming through him as Keonhee kisses him again.
Hwanwoong slides his hands beneath Keonhee’s shirt, feeling the planes of his back, the light muscle across his stomach and chest. Keonhee pulls back slightly to pull his shirt over his head, and Hwanwoong appraises him gratuitously, eyes raking over his body. Keonhee blushes, glancing away.
Hwanwoong lays a hand flat against his lower stomach. “Pretty,” Hwanwoong comments. His hand slides to palm at Keonhee’s obvious erection, and Keonhee’s mouth falls open in a silent moan, his lips so red and plush. Very pretty.
Keonhee seems inclined to keep kissing him forever, so it is up to Hwanwoong to undress himself, undoing various ties and clasps until his chest is bare. Keonhee surprises him again by dipping his head to kiss across his chest, and after a moment his tongue laves over one of Hwanwoong’s nipples. Hwanwoong gives a contented sigh, rewarding Keonhee by pressing the heel of his hand into his clothed cock.
Hwanwoong knows it is wise for Keonhee to not leave any marks, lest his chambermaids notice, but god how Hwanwoong wants it. Keonhee rakes his teeth across Hwanwoong’s collarbone, eventually coming back up to kiss him once again. “If you don’t fuck me, I am going to go mad,” Hwanwoong says, sliding his hand into Keonhee’s hair and twisting. Keonhee moans at the contact, so Hwanwoong does it again, relishing the way Keonhee’s eyes squeeze shut.
“O-Okay, okay,” Keonhee stammers out as Hwanwoong tightens his grip on Keonhee’s hair, baring his throat. Keonhee does him the service of taking his pants off, revealing his thighs to Hwanwoong, his well-endowed cock. Hwanwoong takes him in hand immediately and Keonhee makes a keening noise in his throat, hips twitching forward. Hwanwoong strokes him lazily as Keonhee works on Hwanwoong’s breeches. The chilly air hitting Hwanwoong’s cock makes him hiss slightly, but Keonhee quickly covers him with his body once more, their cocks sliding together. Hwanwoong moans at the contact, rutting upwards against Keonhee’s body, the precome wetting their skin.
Keonhee slides his hands up the back of Hwanwoong’s thighs, and Hwanwoong lets his legs fall open. Keonhee takes his thighs in his large hands and scoots Hwanwoong up the bed, giving Keonhee more room to kneel between his legs.
“Just a moment, I have–” Hwanwoong slides off of the silken sheets to grab the tub of argan oil that his maids use in his hair. He figures this is as good of a use as any for it. He returns to Keonhee, slipping back into their previous positioning and handing over the pot.
Keonhee dips his fingers into the oil, and Hwanwoong’s mouth almost waters at the sight of the thin oil dripping from Keonhee’s fingers as he sets the pot aside. Keonhee pushes Hwanwoong’s legs further apart, one of his hands in the bend of his knee, and he wastes no time in sliding a finger into Hwanwoong.
It is Hwanwoong’s turn to make a high noise in the back of his throat, immediately fucking down onto Keonhee’s finger, desperate for stimulation. Keonhee quickly adds a second finger, and Hwanwoong revels in the stretch, clenching around Keonhee’s fingers. “Have you, ah– have you been thinking about getting your cock inside me this whole time, Keonhee?” Hwanwoong teases, his gaze on Keonhee’s face. Keonhee has the same expression of deep focus on his face that he does when they fight, and the expression falters a bit at Hwanwoong’s words, something more open and soft bleeding through.
“Yes,” Keonhee admits, still eagerly fingering Hwanwoong, thrusting his fingers deeply. “Yes, my prince, I have wanted you for ages.”
Hwanwoong smiles, self-satisfied, and then moans again as Keonhee brushes past his prostate. He arches his back, pushing his hips further down onto Keonhee’s fingers as Keonhee adds a third.
“And,” Keonhee adds, “you are beautiful, my prince.” He drags his free hand across Hwanwoong’s taut stomach, fingers trailing across the soft skin where his thigh meets his body. “More beautiful than I ever could have imagined.”
Hwanwoong preens under the praise, Keonhee pulling another moan out of him as he quickens his pace. Keonhee’s long fingers are perfect for the task, opening Hwanwoong up so deliciously. Hwanwoong’s hips move to meet each thrust of his fingers, and he’s really trying to be quiet, lest the servants moving about the palace overhear, but he’s… failing.
Keonhee puts a hand over Hwanwoong’s mouth as he continues to work him open, muffling Hwanwoong’s repeated cries. Hwanwoong’s entire body shudders with pleasure, and then it is gone, Keonhee’s fingers withdrawing. Hwanwoong opens his eyes to look up at Keonhee, shaking his head free of his grasp.
“Lay down,” he tells Keonhee, watches the way Keonhee’s realization flickers across his face. His face has been adorably pink this entire time, but he seems to blush even deeper as he moves to lay onto his back. His hands come to meet Hwanwoong’s hips as Hwanwoong swings a leg over his hips, straddling him. Hwanwoong immediately grinds down onto his cock, Keonhee’s moan ragged as he does. Hwanwoong feels so slick between the legs, oil no doubt dripping from him and onto Keonhee’s cock. Hwanwoong slides Keonhee’s dick into the cleft of his ass, a small gasp coming from him as his cock brushes past his hole. He reaches back to position Keonhee properly, then sinks back onto him. It burns, a result of Keonhee’s girth, but Hwanwoong settles down onto him fully anyways, groaning at the feeling of fullness encompassing him.
“God,” Keonhee breathes, obviously taking in the sight of his prince about to ride his dick. Hwanwoong smiles at him, a coy little thing, as he rises up and then sits back down, Keonhee’s cock sliding smoothly back into him. Keonhee’s thumbs dig into his hipbones, a signal of bare restraint. Hwanwoong wishes that Keonhee would let himself go, would bruise him. He thinks the purple would look gorgeous against the backdrop of his paleness.
“My prince,” Keonhee says into the open air as Hwanwoong speeds up his pace.
Without really thinking, Hwanwoong’s hand flies to Keonhee’s throat, fingers curling into his flesh. Keonhee gasps, tilting his head back to bare his throat. “Call me by my name,” he demands, though his voice is breathy.
“Hwanwoong,” Keonhee moans readily, as if the word has been sitting on the tip of his tongue the entire time. There is no room for respect here; Hwanwoong wants this man to fucking devastate him. Or, perhaps, he wants to devastate him.
Hwanwoong’s eyebrows knit together as he circles his hips, Keonhee’s cock pressing insistently into his prostate, the rush of pleasure almost too much. Keonhee wraps his still-oiled fingers around Hwanwoong’s cock, the movements slow and careful, and Hwanwoong nearly shouts. Maybe he wants to get caught, deep down. Maybe he wants to show his father that he can, truly, do whatever he wants.
Keonhee begins meeting Hwanwoong’s movements, thrusting up into him, his other hand still firm on his hip. Hwanwoong’s breath comes ragged, his moans incoherent as Keonhee begins stroking him more quickly. Keonhee pauses to drag his fingers up slowly, his thumb pressing into the sensitive underside of the head, and that is enough– Hwanwoong comes with a cry, falling across Keonhee’s stomach. His muscles tighten around Keonhee’s cock, and Keonhee thrusts into him faster, obviously chasing his own orgasm. He comes with a soft moan, and Hwanwoong can’t help but laugh, satisfied, at the feeling of the come flooding him.
Their eyes meet as the sound of their breathing fills the room. Keonhee’s expression breaks into a grin, and Hwanwoong returns the bright smile, darting forward to press their mouths together. The distance means that Keonhee’s cock slides out of him enough to send come cascading out of him, and Hwanwoong can feel Keonhee’s face scrunch up.
“The servants won’t be pleased that we’ve ruined the sheets,” Hwanwoong whispers, and it makes Keonhee laugh. Keonhee’s hands slide up Hwanwoong’s back, landing on his shoulders and holding him close. It is Hwanwoong’s turn to make a face at the feeling of his own cooling come being pressed against his stomach, but he is happy at the contact regardless.
He will never be able to pick up his sword again without thinking of this man. Maybe that was already the case. Either way, Hwanwoong is okay with it.