Title: The Stories of You & Me
Author: Keir
Rating: (now) M for swearing and sexual situations/explicit scenes
The Gist of Things: AU story with Yuki & Haru as generals in an army at war with Kyou's tribe.
A/N: I listened to a whooooole lot of classical music while writing this one, like Bizet's "Farandole." There are three snippets to what could have/would have been a bigger story that I figure I'll never get around to actually writing, so here it is.
"italics" = foreign language
The hall was crowded as the two men were announced. Everywhere hung the purple banners of the royal house and the light of a thousand candles refracted off handsomely wrought crystal chandeliers. They were fashionably late—yet again—thanks to Hatsuharu. The ball was in full swing, dancers crowding the center. Everywhere they looked was bursting with richly-coloured fabrics and sparkling jewels, and the air was filled with ladies' perfume and the rich aroma of roasted meat and fine wine. This was without a doubt more lavish than the last feast that was held. The eldest of the men sardonically wondered how the crown was paying for such sumptuousness, but then he supposed that was not his concern.
Yuki straightened his formal jacket again, adjusted the golden braiding along his right shoulder which marked him as a ranked officer.
"Stop fussing," Hatsuharu murmured, calm and composed as usual.
"You made us late. If you had been on time like I had asked, there wouldn't be any need for my so-called 'fussing.' Are my pins straight?"
The black and-white haired man glanced over and nodded. "Shall we present ourselves?"
"I suppose we might as well get it out of the way," Yuki said ruefully. They both were not the sort for such munificent entertainment, but it was a celebration of their last successful campaign, after all. Their presence was most assuredly required. Hatsuharu—whom some of the soldiers had nicknamed The Ox for his stolid presence—bore it well while Yuki usually only made a vague appearance if he could get away with it. The duress of planning a military operation were less stressful to him and far more preferable.
Nevertheless, they made their way through the hall and finally arrived at the king's dais. Both bent the knee to show their fealty as was expected. Emperor Akito, first of his name, inclined his head in recognition and bid them rise with a gesture. "It is good to see my finest generals at long last appear before me. I was beginning to worry you would not attend the festivities planned in your honour." The emperor's dark eyes stared down at the men with interest. "Did you lose a button again, Hatsuharu? Or is there some other excuse for your tardiness this time?" he asked, voice smooth and soft.
The Ox made a short bow to his sovereign, face serious and showing no reaction to the jab. "No, Your Majesty. This time my uniform was not properly pressed."
The Stygian man seated on his throne above them made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat at the excuse. "Well then, I suppose it's a good thing I don't keep you around for your punctuality." Dark eyes traveled to the grey-haired man at The Ox's side. "My fair cousin Yuki, it warms my heart to see you returned safely home once more from the battlefield. I trust you were not too overly taxed this season?"
Yuki thought of all they had endured in the summer months; he thought of supply trains gone missing or packed with not enough provisions, of soldiers ill-equipped and looking to him for guidance, of long, miserable hours slogging through rain and mud and death. None of these things showed on his deferential face. "One season of war is much like the last, Your Majesty."
"Is this so?" Akito asked, though he obviously had no true interest in such matters. "I thank you both for your diligent efforts on behalf of the realm. I must say, your endeavours have brought such delightful commodities to our shining capitol." An elegantly slippered foot reached out and nudged a slave at the emperor's feet.
Yuki looked down at the slave for the first time; in honesty, such people were easily ignored as they usually operated in the background and were urged to remain unremarkable. He gauged the man to be around his own age. He could see why his royal cousin would have selected such a slave; he was a distinct, fire-haired man, which placed him as part of the northern hill tribes that they had worked so hard to stamp out rebelliousness in this long season. He sat on the floor, which Yuki thought must be none too comfortable, baleful eyes like garnets staring up at them. The swirling whorls of the hill tribes were tattooed on his exotic tan skin and his finely muscled body indicated he had once been a strong warrior of his people. A fine burnished collar ringed his throat, a single large ruby set in the center marking him as one of the emperor's personal pleasure slaves.
Yes, indeed he could see why Akito would prefer such an individual; his sovereign had always had a predilection for the extremely masculine type. Yuki thought with distaste that he would never want such a savage touching him, but that was neither here nor there. He glanced over at the younger man accompanying him; Hatsuharu was meeting the barbarian's glare calmly.
"Begging Your Majesty's pardon," Yuki said coolly, "but these savages are almost no better than primitive beasts. I would hardly think of them as commodities."
The emperor frowned and Yuki knew that he had shown his aversion too plainly. Akito waved at them, now turned apathetic toward their presence. "You may leave me," he said abruptly.
The two generals bowed and turned on their heels to make their withdrawal. At this point they resolved themselves to making greetings to all the proper heads of state and noteworthy nobles, but as they were mingling Yuki noticed Hatsuharu staring off into space and followed his gaze. The emperor still sat at the head of the hall on his embellished throne, his right-hand man Kureno standing behind him. But Haru's eyes were for the redheaded slave, who looked like some sort of heathen bodyguard.
"Excuse me," the tall man murmured to their party. Yuki hissed at him, tried to pull him back with as much decorum as possible, but The Ox was a headstrong fool. He could only pray that the younger man didn't cause a scene.
Hatsuharu walked with slow, deliberate steps toward the dais, his face placid. When he reached the platform, he bowed deeply once more to his sovereign, but addressed his question to the slave sitting at the emperor's feet. "Will you join me for a dance?" The other man scowled at him, eyes hard.
"You waste your time. He speaks but little of our dialect; he grunts in his barbarian tongue, a most crude form of communication, if one could even call it that," Akito said with disdain.
Hatsuharu nodded his understanding and spoke again. "Will you join me for a dance?"
The slave's eyes widened then narrowed. "Why should I want your filthy hands on me?" the man retorted.
"Because it will take you away from him, for a time at least," Hatsuharu answered guilelessly. Crimson eyes studied him hostilely before the slave shrugged and nodded his consent to the proposition. Grey eyes moved up to meet imperious dark ones. "Your Majesty, with your permission?"
Akito looked away dispassionately. "Dance with the beast if it pleases you."
Hatsuharu made another deep bow then reached out his hand to the slave. It was ignored as the other man rose. True to his race, the slave was shorter and more broad about the shoulders. He stared up at the general balefully. Hatsuharu nodded courteously and motioned the other man to precede him. The milling populace made way for them on the floor, a pocket of space forming around them as they took position.
"I do not know your foreign dances," the orange-haired man said brusquely.
"That does not matter. Do you think you can follow my lead?"
The slave grimaced in distaste. "Does the sun set in the west? I can keep up with whatever oafish fumbling you call dancing."
Instead of being offended, Hatsuharu allowed himself a small smile. The band struck up the opening chorus again and he led his partner into the dance. True to his word, the other man kept up, albeit perhaps a pace behind the beat. The Ox stepped forward with an upraised hand and interlocked fingers with the slave, both of their calloused hands rubbing together as they circled each other in the dance. "You are from the Salassi tribes?"
The slave scowled. "Yes."
"I thought so from your markings." Hatsuharu allowed his thumb to run over the edge of one tattoo on the other man's hand, unimpressed by a warning hiss from his dance partner. "And what are you called?"
"Here I am called 'slave' and 'you' and 'whore,'" the tanned man said scathingly.
Hatsuharu was intrigued by those fiery red eyes, unperturbed by such harsh words; he had heard worse from the soldiers under his command. "I meant your given name passed down to you from your father."
The slave's face turned from openly hostile to cautiously interested at the displayed knowledge of his homeland's ways. "My father passed down to me the name of Kyou."
"Kyou," The Ox repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. "I am called Hatsuharu, but you may call me Haru."
"Why did you ask me to dance?" the slave demanded, annoyed with the pleasantries.
"You intrigue me. You are beautiful, exotic..." Hatsuharu marked the way the other man tensed. He waited until they moved in close again to murmur, "But more importantly, I am wondering what a Salassi warrior is doing masquerading as a pleasure slave."
Kyou caught his breath, heart pounding inside his chest, but he tried to keep his face controlled. "I don't know what you mean," he replied stiffly.
"A Salassi vows to never be taken alive if it can be helped," Hatsuharu said confidently. "You could have taken your life many times by now, I am sure, but why haven't you? That is why I am intrigued." He smiled cockily at the slave.
The orange-haired man stuck out his jaw stubbornly. "I could kill you now if I wished."
Hatsuharu chuckled as he fearlessly pulled the slave in close, their bodies nearly touching."I have no doubt of that," he said softly. The song came to an end and the musicians began the opening to the next. Hatsuharu raised an inquisitive brow. "Another?"
Kyou hesitated a brief moment, eyes flicking over to the dais and the black-haired man staring at them. "All right," he agreed reluctantly and gasped as the tall man pulled him close for the slow, sensual dance.
Yuki watched his comrade with open despair as the black and white-haired man whirled the savage across the dance floor. Nobles around him muttered or guffawed at the spectacle; it was sure to be something for the gossip mill of the court, but the general knew this was a much more serious matter. Hatsuharu rarely showed interest in people, and if he did, it was usually to bed them, and now he was dancing with the one person in the kingdom who was sure to get him in the most trouble for a tumble in the sheets. The Ox was as stubborn and willful as his nickname implied. Yuki feared the worst.
–
The Ox grunted as the orange-haired man shifted on top of him, growling. He laughed in delight as teeth bit into his shoulder, two canines sharpened to points in the Salassi blooded warrior fashion digging into his flesh. The other man snarled and bucked wildly, biting hard enough to bruise the pale skin. Hatsuharu thought the slave was every bit the little wild cat Kyou was named after.
Suddenly the general rocked up, arms clamping like a vise on the tanned warrior as he rode him to the ground. The other man thrashed, arms bound behind him, the collar at his throat winking in the lamplight. He cursed Hatsuharu roundly as the man dove into his body and yet his legs locked around that pale back, urging him on. Kyou bit again and Hatsuharu groaned in pleasure as his hips rutted against the slave. Both were breathing heavily with exertion.
Hatsuharu ground into his lover and the other man grunted in pain. Every facial expression delighted the general; the "kitten's" tattoos seemed to writhe in the dim light. The slave's jaw still hadn't let go of its hold on one pale shoulder. Hatsuharu laughed low and deep as he ducked his head to murmur lewd and sweet words alternately in his hotheaded lover's ear.
Kyou snarled and bit harder, the tang of copper filling his nostrils even as the salty taste of blood hit his tongue. His oafish lover was whispering ludicrous nonsense in his ear again but he was secretly pleased. A hard shove against his rump jolted him. He sometimes thought Haru had received the nickname "The Ox" not for just his stolid nature, but also for what hung between his legs. He finally released his maw's hold on the other man's flesh and just as quickly a pale hand shoved against his cheek, pushing his head down against the ground. The barbarian warrior mock growled at the treatment.
Hatsuharu slammed into the body beneath him as hard as he could, knowing he was causing discomfort by the twist of the other man's mouth. He let himself go as he stared down into threatening crimson eyes glinting just like the ruby at that tanned throat, pumping his seed into the royal slave's ass. The Salassi was panting as Hatsuharu pulled away to survey his handiwork; the other man's hole was gaping wide from the reaming it had received, cum leaking out slowly. The black and white-haired man was thrilled by it.
"Will you continue to stare like a halfwit all night, or will you find the time to finish me?" Kyou complained, looking down the length of his body.
The Ox laughed, his long, pale fingers picking up the end of the leather cord wrapped tightly around his lover's cock. He tugged gently, eliciting groans and grunts from his pleasurable companion. He leaned down and lapped at the precum bright and shining on the red, flushed erection below him. "I will do what I want with you because you are at my mercy." Hatsuharu laughed at the venomous look he received. His tongue swiped over the head of Kyou's need until the man was panting and bucking, fists clenched with nails digging into his own skin. Hatsuharu watched him, grey eyes dark with desire. "You will have cum many times by the time I'm done with you," he informed his lover.
And with that warning, he rose up and mounted the tanned beauty again.
–
"It is not a joke, Haru, to tumble the emperor's own pleasure slave in your bed!" Yuki nearly shouted, his composure fraying. How could his companion be so dense as to not realize the very real danger he was putting himself in!
"There have been many times I have questioned some of your commands as a brother-in-arms, Yuki, but I never voiced my doubt. Please lend me some of your trust," Hatsuharu replied calmly. He lounged in a chair at the table in his room, the remains of his shared breakfast with Kyou around him, little better than scraps now. His lover did have quite the appetite.
"I cannot concede to such a thing when I see you being so foolish!" Violet eyes darted to the naked man who slumbered on the bed, lower half barely covered by the sheets. "I beg you to reconsider this tryst."
Hatsuharu's eyes also traveled to the tanned heathen laid out on his bed; just the night before they had coupled many times, and Kyou had only risen to eat like a starving man before returning to sleep. The younger general rested his head on his open palm with a bemused smile. "It is foolish, but that is the way people act when they are in love, I find."
Yuki stood still, flabbergasted. "In love? Haru, you can't be serious. Even if he were not from a tribe we are at open war with, he is still a slave, the emperor's slave," he emphasized.
The Ox shrugged one shoulder, grey eyes honest and face tranquil. "Then I will take Kyou from him," he replied as if it were the simplest idea on earth.
The older man clenched his fists. "Haru, understand me. Akito will stop at nothing to achieve vengeance when he finds out about what you've done, as he surely will; he is not a kind or forgiving man," Yuki said, voice strained. "He will have your head if he finds out about this treason."
Hatsuharu was about to reply when a throaty laugh cut him off. Both men looked over to the overgenerous bed; one crimson eye slitted open. Kyou's voice was a rough rasp as he declared, "Not if I kill him first."
