Chapter Text
Jung Messenger announces himself as the night is turning dark and weary, and the jitters of the full moon can be felt right in Yunho’s blood. It simmers and rages beneath the surface of his skin, like throwing oil to a fire.
“Lord Heechul is here to see you,” Jung Messenger says with a bow, waiting for instruction.
Yunho sits up in surprise. “So soon?”
“He said it could not wait.”
Yunho rubs a hand over his skin, knowing neither he nor Heechul will be in their right minds to discuss politics. Though it was never in Heechul’s nature to have good timing. “Very well, bring him to my chambers. Alone. I need not a guard for an old friend.”
“Of course, My King.” Messenger scurries back with Heechul in tow and Yunho cannot help the smile that lights up his face at the sight of him.
Heechul Vecht is beautiful as ever, face ethereal and pretty like a woman’s, eyes wild and clear. His long orange hair lights like a candle, glowing in the bright night. His skin is pale as death and lips as red as ruby. As ever, he presents immaculately, his face drowning in layers of make-up and in fiery red robes that turn his already pale skin to ash.
“My King, Yunho,” Heechul greets, grinning. His teeth are sharp and lips thin.
Yunho stands and dismisses his messenger, stepping towards Heechul. As the door swings shut behind and they are left alone, the Lord takes a step forward into Yunho’s space and kisses him on the cheek with delicacy. Yunho allows it when Heechul puts his hands on his face and studies him over from hair to chin.
“As handsome as ever, you are. You’ve still got those eyes my friend, but you seem…” Heechul backs away and taps a finger to his lip, smearing the lipstick, “different.”
“It’s the full moon as you well know.”
Heechul circles Yunho like a hyena to it’s pray. “No, there’s something else. Something…” Heechul’s eyes light up and a feral grin takes it’s place. “Perhaps the King has found a lady?”
Yunho barks a laugh. “Luna wishes, but no. There hasn’t been a single lady that could keep my interest.”
Heechul takes a seat on Yunho’s bed and crosses his legs, the red garment spreading like wings. “Perhaps since we both know your interests lie in another gender. Though it is high time you found a woman to share your bed at night, regardless of whether you care for her or not. Look at my wife, Kuilahan knows why I married the wench, but she brings me child after child, son after son. We’re expecting our fourth come the next season.”
“And how is your family? It’s been an age since I’ve seen them.”
Heechul gives Yunho a considering look, tilting his head. “Yes, it seems ever since my brother Yolan married Iliyah Shim from the South you’ve become somehow distant. They have born their first child, a daughter. She and mine are inseparable these days—it reminds me of when we were younger. I still think it a shame our families couldn’t be married, your sister after all was due to marry Yolan before she passed—“
“Before she was killed by a Southerner.” Yunho bares his teeth. As much as he loves Heechul as his dearest friend, the tension between them when it came to their relations with the South always hit a sore spot.
Heechul sighs and looks sad, a marring look on his perfect face. “Yes, it was a horrible tragedy.”
“And then you married Yolan off to a Southerner, a Shim of all people.”
The night air blows cold through the window and Yunho steps closer, heat in his veins. Heechul merely stares up at him in invitation.
“Now,” Heechul drawls, “I didn’t come here to fight.”
“You certainly didn’t come here for a fuck.”
They stare each other down, the earlier friendliness frosting over like ice on a lake. Heechul stands and moves closer to Yunho, each step of his bare feet slapping on the stone. He leans close, his lips brushing the shell of Yunho’s ear making him shudder. “No, I did not,” he enunciates. He presses a light kiss to Yunho’s lips and when Yunho doesn’t respond to his invitation, Heechul steps back.
“If I hear correctly, you have yourself a pet. A Shim, of all people.” Heechul’s eyes glow dangerously and Yunho straightens his back.
“A gift from the Southern Lord.”
Heechul’s voice drops from its usual high lilt to a dangerous flat tone he only ever uses when he’s angry. “Tell me, Yunho, does he bite? Does he howl when you fuck him, or does he cry?”
Yunho’s hackles raise and his fists curl. “I do not sleep with the boy. He is only fifteen.”
Heechul quiets and stares into Yunho’s eyes, searching. The sound of drums banging is heard through the window—the eager celebration of the wolves getting louder by the minute. Crickets chirp and wolves amongst howl, the curtains blowing in the singing wind. “Oh,” Heechul says. “Oh, I see.”
“See what?” Yunho seethes in frustration, knowing he’s missing something.
“And I thought there would be nobody since Thelmor and his betrayal, but it seems your heart is softer than I first guessed.” Heechul is smirking and his eyes are alight with interest, eyes open wide—too wide. “See when Thelmor ratted you out to the Southerner’s and sold your information, fucked you then left, I though your heart had frozen over. Time and time again you said to me you would never trust another, but your faiths already in this boy, and in a Southerner no less.”
“What are you trying to say to me, Vecht?”
“Oh, oh, isn’t that just fantastic?” Heechul sings, rubbing the ring on his finger. “You’ve not a clue what’s become of you see,” he pauses and stands close to Yunho, rubbing the lapels of his jacket, “the Yunho I know would’ve executed the boy on the spot. The Yunho I know would never de-collar his prey, and yes, of course I heard about that. I hear about everything that happens in this castle, it just took me seeing you to understand it.”
Yunho grits his teeth together and snarls at the Lord, baring each tooth like a weapon. Heechul only seems amused and it rages on his anger further. “Understand what?”
Heechul touches his cheek and rubs his thumb down his jawline. “You like the boy.”