taemin stared at the board & wished he were a better player. his comparably poor strategy when it came to the game reflected his failure to defeat minho in life. the war at play between his pieces & minho’s was a mirror image of the one they waged daily & in both cases minho was victorious.

he moved his rook & groaned as his bishop was captured. he was left with a handful of pawns, his king, a knight, & the rook he’d just held in his fingers. three moves later & it was over. the oddest part of playing chess with minho was that his master insisted on saying “good game” at the end of every match & shaking his hand, as though they were equals who played because they enjoyed each other’s company & the rhythm of the game. the first time he had hesitated because he wasn’t sure if it was a trick but he’d soon learned that not only was he expected to take the proffered hand but he was to repeat the words back verbatim.

minho didn’t have a lot of free time, but he truly seemed to enjoy the game despite the clear evidence that taemin was not a worthy opponent. it wasn’t taemin’s place to point such a truth out so instead he sat down whenever he was instructed & made his best attempt to prove his mettle on the wooden battlefield. now that he had lost again, he set the pieces back in their starting position as minho moved to sit behind his desk.

“you do not lose on purpose, do you?”

“no, my lord,” taemin replied, not looking up, “i do not.”

“you are getting better.” he peered over the board, a knight in his hand.

“am i, my lord?”

“yes.” he went back to arranging the pieces.

“it does not feel like it, my lord.”

“are you questioning me?” he looked up, eyes wide.

“no!” minho raised an eyebrow as taemin caught his solecism. “no, my lord.”

“come.” taemin placed the piece in his hand down on the table, the board only half-finished & walked over to where his master reclined in his sturdy leather chair. he spread his legs & taemin knelt before him, watching minho with vacant eyes who watched him back. he suddenly felt self-conscious, the urge to fidget held at bay by only the thinnest thread of self-control. there was usually a command swiftly given, no time to imagine what would be expected of him, but now he merely sat in silence, his knees pressing into the cold marble floor.

minho leaned forward & hooked his fingers beneath taemin’s chin, keeping their eyes level.

“you will improve.” taemin nodded, his chin gently tapping the fingers beneath.

“yes, my lord.”

“prepare yourself.” he nodded & rolled back onto the balls of his feet, making his way toward the small table near the massive bed where minho kept the oil he liked.

“do it slowly.” he glanced back over at minho & nodded. he’d begun dressing in clothing that tied around the waist rather than those without bindings: pulling tops over his head didn’t seem to appeal to his master nearly as much as having them slide off of taemin’s shoulders. he untied the knot at his hip & let the blouse fall open, the laces hanging against his thighs. he tucked his fingers beneath the fabric just below his collarbones & let it slip off onto the floor, never breaking eye contact with his master. his pants were tied loosely at the waist & slipped softly to the floor when the knot was undone. taemin stood & a bit chilled, turning only long enough to pull the jar out & carry it to the bed with him, climbing atop the little divots with familiarity.

“would you like me to face you or turn away, my lord?” taemin had no preference to what part of his body would be on display, minho would hear him either way.

“keep your eyes on me.” taemin nodded.

“yes, my lord.” he shifted his body so that he faced minho, his knees bent & thighs spread as he coated his finger & began to press in. it wouldn’t take long, it never did. minho had him too frequently for it to be much of a necessity. but he liked it when taemin was already slick & he enjoyed watching his slave break a little at the pleasure induced by his own hand. a second finger quickly joined.

his legs spread a little wider as he pressed in deep, against the flesh that brought him the most pleasure, staring at minho as he did. his breaths grew shallow as he grew hard & his hand began to wave in the air, desperate to bring the satisfaction of friction to his aching . a brusque “no” from minho forced his hand to drop to his thigh, digging his nails into the tender flesh in a desperate attempt at distraction.

it was becoming unbearable, to be this aroused without being satisfied; neither allowed by his own hand nor by any movement on minho’s part. he squeezed his eyes shut. he was almost angry with how aroused he was, riding his fingers as best he could, feeling the build of pleasure at the stimulation. he was hard & leaking & bruises were beginning to form beneath his nails, his wrist cramping.

“come.” he opened his eyes & looked at his master in confusion. a quirk of minho’s finger brought clarity and he slipped his fingers out, moving carefully off the bed, the marks against his thigh vivid as he took shaky steps. minho gave him a soft cloth that he wiped his fingers on as he knelt down, leaning in when minho’s firm hand pressed against the back of his head. his master was already quite hard as taemin’s shaky fingers pulled apart the buttons that held his trousers together. pressing his hands to minho’s thighs, he leaned in & took it all into his mouth in desperation, minho hissing at his enthusiasm. he wanted his master’s , he wanted it inside him, he wanted to be ed: he wanted relief. a bit of panic at the thought of minho in his mouth slowed him down only slightly, opening his eyes to look up at his master with a pleading gaze. minho was watching him intently, a look that taemin had learned meant that he was enjoying himself but that he was still in control. it was a look he was familiar with.

“enough.” taemin pulled back immediately & sat on his heels, swallowing in anticipation. minho adjusted himself in the chair. “come.” his pants were still on, though halfway off, & he was still draped in his blouse. taemin placed a knee against minho’s thigh on either side, his legs pressing into the arms of the chair, bracing a hand against the back & taking minho in the other. he turned his head to watch, looking back as he sank down, keeping his eyes on the other man. minho’s hands were at his waist as he moved to brace his other hand against the side of the chair near minho’s face & slowly began moving his hips, a small rhythm that minho had yet to join him in, the rough texture of the trousers not wholly unfamiliar to his skin as his movements caused them to rub together.

he began to move faster, desire overwhelming & after what felt to be an eternity, minho began ing up, deep rough with his hands tight against taemin’s hips, pulling him down with each. his knuckles turned white as he gripped the leather beneath his fingers, closing his eyes & losing control over his voice, minho’s rhythmic grunting a melodious duet to his own wanton moans. he kept his hands braced as one of minho’s hands rose up to his neck to pull him in close. his open mouth was captured between minho’s lips & he willingly, desperately acquiesced to his master’s demands & allowed his tongue into his waiting mouth. it was a heavenly dance of taste & novelty: minho had only begun kissing him recently.

the first time had been a surprise & taemin had the taste of his master’s lips on his mouth before he had a chance to register what was happening. he had been on his back, fingers gripping the sheets when minho had suddenly leaned forward, never stalling, & captured his lips with his own. it was neither gentle nor chaste & taemin had found himself with his fingers tangled in his master’s hair, pulling him into his mouth as minho continued to into him. it was also the first time they had moved into the position taemin found himself in now: sat up in minho’s lap with their lips pressed together.

he cried out into minho’s mouth when he came, already so close when minho had called him over. he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut, as his splattered against his waist. minho continued to up into him. he kept his eyes closed & let his body shake, his nerves burning until minho’s familiar breaths shifted & he felt the warmth of the other man’s release inside him.

he opened his eyes, catching his breath, watching minho in this moment of vulnerability, the soldier’s hand still at his neck, a bit painful as he’d gripped him through his .

a sudden urge to kiss him again caught him by surprise. he wasn’t sure if he was allowed the privilege of engaging in contact he had not been directly commanded. but it seemed worth the risk & so he leaned in & brushed his lips against his master’s. minho’s eyes opened & they watched each other in surprise. minho was still inside him, still had his hand at taemin’s neck & taemin was still & sweaty, fingers digging into the leather of the chair, barely holding himself up by quickly weakening arms.

as the silence dragged on, punctuated only by their breaths, his eyes slowly widened as the full depth of what he had done began dawning on him.

“apologies, my lord. i forgot my place.” the silence continued to tick by & he began to shake with trepidation & from the chill of the air as his damp body began to cool. to his surprise, minho leaned up & repeated the action taemin had taken moments ago, a soft brushing of lips that was too tender for their relationship, too chaste but that felt right in the moment.

“up.”, came his soft order & taemin lifted himself off of minho’s lap, rising onto his knees & pressing one unsteady foot after the other onto the cold marble. he remained before his master, waiting for another command, hoping that he wouldn’t be sent away, dismissed as though nothing had happened. he watched as minho buttoned his pants back up & slipped his soiled blouse over his head, his abdominal muscles flexing with the movement. he wanted to feel those muscles beneath his fingers.

he took the cloth that taemin had wiped his fingers on, folded it in half, & wiped the mess off of taemin’s chest with his own hand, taemin’s heart fluttering at the touch. when minho looked up there was a softness to his gaze that taemin had never seen before.

“get dressed. we will start again.” he gestured to the chess board in disarray, the briefest of smiles flittering across his lips & taemin nodded before turning to cross the room, smiling as he bound himself up again in fabric.

“the king’s son has returned. there will be a feast tonight. you will come.” taemin turned back, his eyes wide. the look on minho’s face brokered no argument so he only nodded as the sudden threat of detection made him dizzy.