Jikook smut

Show me what you've got (and more)

Written by: GaufreKerry

Summary:

In a world of magic and luxury, desire is what fills most places. Desire, greed, and longing for pleasure, they're what motivates most interactions between folks of all places and social castes, what brings together beings from all around the country in rich men and women's harems - birds, as they are called, living delicacies trained to bring pleasure and satisfaction to their masters. They don't always get satisfaction themselves though, so it's up to them to find relief wherever they can.

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"Little boy, who you think you're talkin' to?
Please don't think that the sex is gonna cloud my view"

Little Boy - Ashnikko

People say big cities host the most wonders, and anyone could wager they're not wrong. One can find everything they can dream of in the twists and turns of a capital, in the dark recess of an alley, or at a rich man's table, among his fragrant flowers and exotic dishes from each corner of the country.

Wonders, that is what man's dreams are made of, and these dreams, they're sold in places like this like candy to the gullible traveler. Dreams of riches, success and beauty beyond imagination, the novice would see them at every corner in the vivid hues of a merchant's clothes, in a colorful trinket hidden in the darkness of a sea-colored shop, and in the enticing gleam of a gaze, only displayed through the folds of a garment of vaporous fabric.

Dreams. They float above the city like smoke, coat houses and minds, mingle among the population, and sway to the thrumming sound of millions of hearts beating along, together in the swarming darkness. Dreams, they are but beacons of light in the night, plumes of smoke swirling around wrists and ankles before plunging into the depths of lungs, and sparking desire in the throes of minds.

No man is safe from the power of dreams when the streets are full of them, but is there anywhere to hide when desire seeps into the mere stone of houses? In a poor man's house, desire turns into envy, jealousy for the riches of others, and resentment for those who seem to have touched pleasure and luxury. In a rich man's house, however, desire sleeps in a feather bed covered in silk sheets, and bathes in the rose-scented water of a tiled bathroom. It takes many shapes, many colors, and has as many voices as there are birds in a royal aviary.

In the house of a nobleman, on the east side of the city, the night has fallen, and most birds are asleep. The master of the house is known for owning several, from the pale steppes of the north to the scorching dunes of the south. He's renowned for the colors of his birds, and even more for their diverse flavors. Few get to enjoy what they have to offer, for they are the privilege of him and his wife, who herself particularly enjoys birds from the east and their wide, innocent eyes.

Nobody can stay innocent in houses like this, though, and the birds, as beautiful and delicate as they look, hide the harsh truth of the city world.

In the nobleman's house, the birds sleep, therefore, and the wife does too. The house's bathroom, however, still glows with the orange glow of a flame filtering through the punctures of lanterns' iron, and the water that never cools ripples around two slender figures. Tonight was their turn, but none of them is ready to sleep yet.

"How long did he last, this time?" one asks, delicate features relaxed as they rest on his crossed arms, themselves resting on the beautiful earth-red tiles of the edge of a pool. Further in the water, among the rose petals floating on the surface, another boy stands, water at his waist and droplets trickling down his toned back as he runs a hand through his drenched hair.