Quick as a whip, Yunho jumped to his feet and raced across the floor to go inside the massive closet. Mingi heard him rifling through drawers and hanging clothes, the little sounds he made under his breath as he searched for what he was looking for.

After several minutes, the Master emerged in a whole new outfit. He was wearing a Ralph Lauren jumper. It was baby blue cotton, with ribbed cuffs, neckline and hem. On the chest was a stitched image of a brown teddy bear. It was wearing a baseball cap with casual clothes and sneakers.

Beneath the jumper was a white shirt with an exaggerated collar. The top button was open to expose a hint of his neck. He had paired the jumper and shirt with little white shorts and light blue socks.

Finally, he had slipped into his black horsebit loafers with the thick heels. Yunho skipped out of the closet and spun on his heel to show off the outfit. The Roméo charm was hanging from his phone case. It bounced from the movement. He let out a breathy giggle and smiled wide enough to show off his teeth.

Seonghwa moved to retrieve a hat from a drawer. It was a twill nautical cap, with a navy brim and band and a white top. Little brass buttons on the band matched well with the brass details on the lamb bag. He neatened the Master’s hair with his fingers and then tugged it on for him.

“There, now you look perfect, my darling boy.”

Yunho gushed and leaned against his fingers. “What do you think?” he asked, glancing at him with his big, sparkling eyes. “Do I look beautiful?”

Mingi had gotten used to the Master’s little uniforms and layered suits. He no longer furrowed his brow when he came skipping into the stable, his shoes clip-clopping and his hands swinging at his sides. He didn’t even see it as childlike anymore, because he had spoken to him enough to understand that he was an intelligent young man beneath the princeling costumes. However, now he could see him dressed in a preppy, casual outfit, he found he liked it a lot. Yunho still looked boyish, but he was handsome rather than cute.

Mingi gave him a slow smile. “You look very handsome, Yunho.”

Oh, Yunho had to turn away from him because he was so overcome with joy. His ears turned a shade of deep pink from beneath the brim of his cap. The flush even crept down the back of his neck above his shirt collar. He cupped his face in his hands and let out a series of flustered noises.

This made Seonghwa beam at him. “Mingi’s right; you look very handsome. Now, you must behave when you’re with him. Yes? Don’t wander off, stay by his side. Remember to be patient with him, especially if he comes over quiet. And most importantly …”

Seonghwa took hold of his shoulders to turn him around so he could look into his eyes. Yunho wasn’t quite able to hold his gaze because he was still so flustered. “Enjoy yourself,” Seonghwa finished, giving the boy another soft stroke beneath the chin.

“No more pouting, no more sadness. Today is your special day, and you must enjoy it whilst it lasts. Yes?”

Yunho nodded and skipped across the room towards Mingi. He held his hand out in silent request. Mingi studied it and then glanced at Seonghwa, just to see how the other man reacted to the gesture. It looked familiar, like they had held hands before. He saw no concern or confusion on the other man’s expression, so he took hold of his hand. It was as moist and warm as always as the boy entwined their fingers.

“Alright,” Mingi sighed out, his shoulders lifting and falling in a soft wave. “Let’s see what’s happening in town …”

As he got it ready, he glanced up to watch the Master and the horse.

Yunho was standing just to the side of Lucie’s head. He held out the sugar cube with a fond smile. Unlike with the apple, Lucie didn’t need encouragement. She saw the delicious treat and turned her head to pluck it off his palm with her moist lips. The ticklish sensation made him giggle. His voice was whisper-soft as she nuzzled against his palm and twitching fingers.

“Un pour toi, un pour moi.”

Mingi silently observed the boy as he stuck his hand in his pocket. He pulled it out and uncurled his fingers to reveal a second sugar cube. He brought it to his lips. His fingers were wet from the mare’s slobbering drool as they slipped inside his mouth to place the little treat on his tongue. When he pulled them free, a strand of commingled spit stretched from his fingertips and then snapped down onto his chin.

As the hard cube dissolved, Yunho scrunched up his face with a giddy sound. His lips parted to show almost every single tooth, and his eyes narrowed into slits. The intense sweetness made his fingers twitch and curl at his sides.

The noise he made caught the attention of Lucie. She turned her head again to bump her muzzle against his cheek. Yunho lifted his hands to hold her face.

He pressed his round cheek against the strong wing of her hollow cheek as his fingers scratched and stroked around her ears and down her neck.

Mingi thought he was about the sweetest foal he had ever laid eyes on. The thought made him snort under his breath and drop his head to focus back on the machine.

Yunho spoke around his dangling cigarette. It bobbed from every slight twitch of his pretty lips. “Mmm, my body hurts.”

“Your body hurts?” Seonghwa repeated in that same sweet tone, like a mother talking to her toddler. His rubbing hand slid down his back, focusing more on the potential source of the pain. “How come?”

“Riding the horses,” he explained, his gaze still burning into Mingi’s skull.

“They can be rough. But it feels so good, doesn’t it?”

At this, Seonghwa clicked his tongue and started rigorously rubbing the dip of the Master’s curved spine. His warm palm would soothe away the lingering discomfort.

Only, it wasn’t really what he needed, and they both knew it.

No, what Yunho needed was a nice soak in a warm bath, and maybe a soothing after-care balm to take down the sting.

Knowing Seonghwa, he would probably slather it on for him with a series of gentle coos and head strokes.

“Oh, dear! No one enjoys a rough ride, least of all the horses. Which one was rough with you? I’ll have to ride them myself and see if they need some more balance and gait training.”

Mingi managed to not choke on his next pull, but only just. He coughed into his fist, tried his ******* hardest to disguise it as a little tickle. It worked, for the other man didn’t give him so much as a glance. He was much too busy babying the little darling on his knee.

“That’s quite alright,” Yunho replied, his lips lifting in a hollow smile around his cigarette. “I have to learn how to train it myself. I’ll put plenty of work into it.”

“Good boy,” Seonghwa praised, reaching up with his free hand to give him a gentle stroke under the chin.

Yunho turned his head to look at him and suddenly asked, “Do you think I could ride a stallion?”

“Hmm, the question isn’t if you could, rather if you should,” came Seonghwa’s earnest and soft-spoken response. “I’ve no doubt that you could handle one. Not all stallions are temperamental. Some are calm, good-natured. But they’re just too unpredictable, love. They can’t help it. It’s their hormones, their drive to reproduce and protect their herd. So, it would need to be a well-trained stallion, and it would have to be once breeding season is over.”

“What about you?” Yunho reached up to get his cigarette between his fingers. As he exhaled smoke out the corner of his pursed lips, he turned his attention back to Mingi. His gaze shifted to look down at the soft rise in his sweatpants before lifting to his face again. “Do you think I could handle a stallion?”

The Master wasn’t talking about horses.

The stallion he longed to handle had stormy eyes and calloused hands, and it couldn’t be held down with ropes and ties. And the field he wanted to break it in was more like a sea of wrinkled cotton, with down pillow hillocks and wooden headboard mountains.

“… Yeah, you could do it,” Mingi said, his voice low and soft in the quiet of the courtyard. “We’ll have to reach out to the stud farms in a few weeks. Maybe they’ll have a suitable stallion for you to ride?”

“You promise?” Yunho asked, his chest puffing up in excitement.

Mingi nodded because he suddenly found it hard to speak. He dropped his gaze to the sound of Yunho excitedly giggling and rapidly clenching his fists, and Seonghwa softly chuckling as he watched him with a fond smile on his lips.

Yunho nodded because he was too busy chewing something to speak.

The soft and wet sounds coming from his mouth were loud, obscene to Mingi’s keen ears.

“What are you eating?” he asked.

Yunho plucked something from the bowl to hold it up. In the dim moonlight, he could just about make out the shape of a strawberry. It was small and looked like it would be so delightfully sweet. “Would you like one?”

Mingi shook his head and filled his mouth with more smoke instead.

Yunho considered this, his fingers stroking and teasing the strawberry. Then he cocked his wrist to toss it down into the courtyard.

Seonghwa had such precise reflexes he was a sight to see. He tracked the curved descent of the tossed berry, his feet skipping over the cobblestones until he had gotten into the perfect position. He jumped to catch it right between his teeth, bearing down just enough to dimple the skin without biting clean through the strawberry.

The little act was met with applause and giggles from Yunho. The sound was airy and sweet because it was genuine. After all, Seonghwa was one of the only people on the entire estate whom the Master didn’t mask around. His smiles were never forced, they just sometimes lacked animation because it was something he clearly struggled with.

Seonghwa folded an arm over his stomach and gave the deep bow of a Commedia dell’arte performer. It made his loose hair bounce around his handsome face. As he straightened up, he ****** the strawberry into his mouth. It must have been sweet because his smile grew as he reached up to fix his messy hair.

Yunho plucked another strawberry from the bowl resting on the balcony wall.

He brought it up to his lips, only he didn’t bite it. He pressed a kiss against it and then shifted to lean over the railing. The movement made his robe slip off one of his shoulders to expose even more of his bare skin. “Now, Mingi! You too!” he called out, his wrist cocked and ready to toss the berry down at him.

Mingi felt his heart stop beating in his chest from a mixture of lust and dread.

For a second, it seemed like every single bruise and bite was on display for them all to see. He anticipated the gasp of shock Seonghwa would let out, followed by a string of panicked questions about what had happened to him.

But the light coming through the lace curtains was too dull to fully illuminate his body. It threw him into darkness, nothing more than an aureole of warm orange behind him.

A saintly halo for a devilish boy.

Mingi swallowed down the moan that so desperately wanted to escape his clenched teeth. He dropped his eyes to see that Seonghwa was still smiling up at the boy, his expression one of delight and not horror.

“I’m afraid Mingi isn’t the kind to play such games,” Seonghwa remarked with a soft chuckle. “Try as I might, I just can’t get him to play nice with the other horses.”

Yunho was quick to argue, “It’s because you’re too gentle with him. I think a firm hand would work better.”

For a moment, a fleeting look of uncertainty came over Seonghwa’s expression. Mingi saw the twitch in his strong eyebrows, the falter at the upturned corners of his lips.

Memories of the crop cast on the stable floor, still warm from the Master’s hand. The sound of his wailing echoing through the dusty sunbeams casting through the doorway. The creeping sense of dread floating up towards the old timber beams where the swallows liked to nest.

When Seonghwa spoke, the dazzling smile appeared once more. Like the sun disappearing behind a tiny cloud but for a second, returning more vibrant than before. “No, Mingi needs a gentle hand. Believe me, I know him better than anyone else.”

“Is this your daddy?” he asked, gazing down into the old photograph.

“Yeah, it’s my dad,” Mingi said with a nod. “He teaches at Zurich University. Korean language and cultural studies.”

“He’s handsome, as all daddies are.” Yunho rubbed his thumb over the glass.

Though Mingi couldn’t see where he was touching, he had a feeling he had just stroked his thumb over the spot where his dad’s face was. “And your mummy? Where’s she?”

“… Don’t know her, she left when I was a baby.”

At this, Yunho lifted his gaze to look over at him. His eyes were wide, and they shifted from side to side as he tried to process this unexpected information. It took him a few seconds to think of something suitable to say.

“Oh, how dreadful. I’m terribly sorry. You must miss her.”

“Hard to miss someone you have no memories of,” Mingi replied with a shrug. “Wherever she is, I hope she’s happy. God knows my dad is far from it.”

“Daddy is like that too,” Yunho remarked, his thumb once more stroking over the glass. “So melancholic. I can see the life draining from his eyes every time I look into them. All because of me. Have you met him?”

Mingi nodded and explained, “Yeah, but only on video calls. I’ve never met him in person.”

“Meeting my daddy is like meeting God,” Yunho said in the softest whisper. “Big, powerful, filled with wrath which he demonstrates more than his apparent boundless love. I hope you never meet him. He’s … frightening.”

Mingi furrowed his brow and asked, “Frightening how?”

Yunho turned back to the photograph. His hands weren’t quite steady as he stared down at it.

“Does your daddy hit you too?” he asked in that same whisper.

Oh.

Though Yunho was still smiling, his tone was eerily flat when he spoke. “Yes, it sounds … quite beautiful, doesn’t it? To marry a handsome man. Bring him into your home. Make love to him for the first time. Let him ----- you ---- and take your --------- on the soft sheets. Make you scream his name so that everyone hears how much he loves you.”

“Yunho?”

“Yes?”

“We’ve talked about this, remember? What’s appropriate to say to me, and what you should keep to yourself.”

“… I’m sorry, I just think you’re so handsome. I get flustered and say the wrong things.”

“I know, and I’m flattered,” Mingi said, his tone soft and slow. “I think it’s sweet, but you need to be careful. You can’t say things like that around anyone else. I could get in trouble with your parents if they find out about … the things we’ve done in the stables. So please, try and keep the fantasies to yourself.”

“It’s just us,” Yunho pointed out, slowly lowering his hands from his cheeks. “No one has to know. I won’t tell a soul. Not even Roméo, and I tell him everything.”

Mingi sighed and reached up to get his glasses in hand. This allowed him to pinch the bridge of his nose. There was a twinge starting to settle there, which always appeared whenever Yunho started to get on his nerves. After a soothing pinch and rub, he replaced his glasses.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, his tone filled with resignation. “Just us.”

Yunho hummed in delight because he was so happy to have gotten his way.

♱

“You should name the boardings.”

The suggestion dragged Mingi out of his musings. He came around with a hard blink and a soft snort. “I’m sorry?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting enough to lightly crease his forehead.

“What did you say, love?”

“A name, you should give the boardings a name,” Yunho repeated, talking in a slow and steady rhythm as if Mingi was a child. “The larger of the stables is called le Nid des Hirondelles, because–”

“Because the swallows like to nest there,” Mingi finished with a slow nod.

Mingi was aware. He had heard the stable being referred to by this name by Jean-Luc, the head groundskeeper. He was also familiar with the swallows, who liked to nest in the eaves during the spring. They kept away the annoying bugs and spiders, so he was happy to tolerate them.

However, he just thought of it as ‘the stables’ because he had no need to specify mostof the time. Should he need to talk to Seonghwa about one, he would refer to it by the name of whatever mare first came to mind. Seonghwa knew where they were all housed, so he was able to figure out where to go with ease.

At this, Yunho perked up. He stuck his chest out and squared his shoulders, like he always did when he was feeling accomplished and proud. It seemed he liked how he knew such little details about the estate. Mingi didn’t know all that much, but he had learned some things from his years working alongside Seonghwa and Adrien.

“I like to call it les Hirondelles for short. The smaller stable hasn’t been given an official name yet. It’s a more recent addition, and it does take time for a name to settle. I’m still thinking of a suitable choice. As for your boardings…” Yunho paused to think it over, his gaze once more skipping over the interior of the bungalow. “Uh, les Pignons?”

Mingi considered it before shaking his head. “Too obvious. It should have more character, don’t you think?”

After a moment, Yunho’s lips lifted in a pleased smile which showed his teeth.

"La Grange du Cheval?”

Mingi felt his lips curling into a smile too. He didn’t try to hide it by turning away or dropping his head. The Master had earned the right to see it for his wit. “I like that one,” he said, his voice soft. “I might have to steal it from you.”

“You can have it. It’s my gift to you.”

“Alright, thank you. Does your private suite have a name?”

Yunho nodded. “It does, le Coquelicot Bleu. There are little poppies in the stained-glass windows in the parlour. Blue, not red. Have you seen blue poppies before?”

“Yeah, they’re grown in the manor garden. Most of them are blue, but some sprout up yellow and orange.” Mingi knew it was probably a bad idea to suggest it, but he decided to go for it.

“You’ll have to invite me to your suite some time. I’ve never seen the poppies in the windows. I think I’d like to see them.”

“Oh, I would like that very much!” the Master gushed, as he rocked back onto the slight heels of his loafers. “I’ve so many nice things to show you! Um, I’ve plenty of books and maps. Oh, and antique equestrian tools! I’m certain you’ll know how to use them all. You could give me a demonstration. Not on the mares, of course. We wouldn’t want to risk hurting one. You could use me.”

The suggestion was ripe with implication.

Mingi felt a prickling heat spreading up from his neck. It made his cheeks and ears throb, not unlike the soft throbs starting to radiate out from his lower belly.

He hoped the gentle glow from the lamps didn’t expose his flush to the boy. He didn’t want him to know how uncomfortable he was making him.

“I’m a good student,” the Master finished, his voice breathier than it had been moments ago. “And I think you would make the perfect teacher. You’re firm, much firmer than Seonghwa. Though I always try to be a good boy, sometimes I get carried away. I need a firm hand to keep me in line. Punish me when I’m misbehaving. Praise me when I’m being good. You
would be just perfect, I think.”

you call him your baby, so he might as well act like one
yunho's always been one to bite the hand that holds the milk bottle
you wanna see him act out so you have a brat to punish
but you ain't seen nothing yet.

we wanna knock you into next week with what we could tell you
darling boy throws a temper tantrum,
but maybe that's cause they don't listen to what baby wants

if i gotta get hit to earn my hit
then i'll do it.
he just wants your attention, and he wants them to see it.
cause all they see now is god in the eyes of a boy in the stable stalls

darling boy gets a sugar cube if he behaves well
he knows just what to do
but he wants you to crack that whip over his yielding spine to make it hurt

so don't speak to him in that precious mother tongue
he wants to hear the low, sensual note of your sweet 'enchante' rolling off
or maybe he wants to hear you nicker like a horse
since you're his friesian, such a beautiful stallion

give him what he wants
a mass of bruises and scars and they spill out all over the sheets
not too hard, just raise your fist and let it fall with the same impact of their words

stick it and twist it
see how much i writhe for you
darling boy loves it much
can you see it in his dead eyes ?

he misses the soft 'sweetheart' of his daddy
especially as he sees birthday wishes which read like death notes
give him something good to remember

call us the master and pupil
the stallion and the foal
his eyes glimmer at sight,
because the stud and the syringe are one and the same

we don't like the disrespect, dongwook, look me in the face
darling boy has black eyes and both cold hands
on the barrel of the--

The family portraits hanging at the top of the staircases added a note of gothic, however. The large oil paintings were set into gilded frames, and they were several feet in height and width.

Each member had their own personal portraits, which were overlooking the foyer to see the guests coming and going. The older generations were placed along the sides of the mezzanine. Out of sight, but certainly not forgotten.

Dongwook and Hana were hanging pride of place on either side of the family portrait. The husband was classically handsome, dressed in a fine suit with an ascot tie, his dark hair swept back off his brow. The wife was beautiful, but she had the strong jaw and cheeks of a well-bred lady which were considered less feminine. Equine, much like Yunho.

Yunho’s portrait was hanging beside Hana, and his little brother, Keeho, was hanging beside Dongwook. Both of the boys were wearing matching navy suits. Only Yunho had a flamboyant and ruffled blouse, which contrasted against the more formal and masculine wingtip collared shirt Keeho was wearing.

They both had big and dark eyes and little pouted
mouths, but the older son had a sharp and hooked nose rather than the soft and round button his brother possessed. Mingi was so used to the sunburn on his nose and cheeks it seemed strange how it wasn’t present in his portrait.

The largest portrait contained the family. It looked to have been completed several years ago, on account of Yunho appearing younger. A boy of 16 years, perhaps? He looked the same, just softer because his face had yet to widen with masculine growth. He was standing behind his father, who was seated on the right side of the portrait. His little brother would be 10 if so.

Keeho looked around that age; he still appeared to be a child, seated between his parents and yet so small he could easily be rocked on their knee.

Mingi knew other rooms in the manor were more ostentatious, more gothic. Especially the ballroom, which was a popular venue for wedding receptions. He had never seen the Master’s private suite, but he had a feeling it would be dark, moody, and luxurious. Just like the aura which radiated from his portrait, the black cloud of dread that had settled in the corner where
it hung.