CW: Explicit language, gore and blood, violence, mentions of substance abuse and addiction, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of self-harm, victim-blaming bullsh*ttery, ableist language.
Vex is an amicable Hound with roguish good looks. He’s quite young compared to the others, around Rin’s age or so, and he has a lively charm that naturally attracts attention. Despite their situation, Rin and Jun feel at ease around the lad, and they follow him as he picks through the junkyard.
“Why you wanna be a Milkfang is beyond me,” Vex chortles, snatching up a grubby plastic doll with empty eye sockets. He shudders and tosses it over his shoulder. “The boss said you were his Marchioness already, so you don’t gotta be a Milkfang.”
Rin hops onto a rusted metal box and sits upon it, lotus style. “Just tell us what we gotta do, Vex.” He raises a palm to shield his eye against the blazing morning sun. “Consider me a Milkfang like Bijan here.”
He jabs a thumb at Jun who is currently staring at the metal box with round eyes. “Bijan? Are you listening?”
“Rinnie, do you know what you are sitting on?” Jun says, excitedly. He crouches down and starts running his hands over the rusted frame. “Oh, look! That must be where the garments were placed. And here, I see where there should be buttons or dials. Ah, I can even make out some writing…”
“…Bijan?”
“Bijan’s a Last Cycle nut, huh?” Vex straightens up and grins at the lord, a bunch of loose wires clasped in both hands. “Yeah, we get a lot of those visiting the junkyard. Trying to salvage shit from the Last Cycle. Like that there, what you’re sitting on, Rat. This woman…I think she was a scholar…she called it a ‘drying mechanism’ or something. Tried to haul it out of the yard with her bare hands but pulled the muscles in her back instead. Princess had to carry her out and dump her at the Clinic…” He laughs and starts untangling the wires, inspecting each strand keenly.
“Yes, that’s it exactly!” Jun exclaims, leaping to his feet. He turns his shimmering goldens to the amicable Hound. “A drying mechanism! People in the Last Cycle used to wash and dry their garments using machines. The entire laundry process was automated! It was utterly ingenious.”
“Who cares how a bunch of dead people washed their clothes?” Rin scoffs, waving his hands at the other two impatiently. “Come on, focus. Vex, tell us what our assignments are. I’m fucking melting here.”
Jun starts and glances at the raven. He sees how the other is sweating and wears an unhealthy flush. Without a thought, he tugs off his shirt, revealing his firm, defined torso that twists and ripples with every minute movement.
“Wh-why the fuck are you stripping–?!” Rin splutters, moreso from shock than prudishness.
He gets his answer when the lord stretches out the fabric over his head in a makeshift canopy, casting a cool shade. Rin blinks up at the man, cheeks burning from more than the heat.
“Is that better, Rinnie?”
“…I suppose it’ll have to do. Don’t blame me if you get burnt to a crisp though.” He settles in the shade with a happy sigh, sneaking glances at that muscular chest every so often.
Vex slings the untangled wires over his shoulder and watches the princess being pampered by his grunt. The Hound chuckles and shakes his head. “The assignment’s simple,” he says, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “You’ll be doing a bit of tax collection to begin with. You know how that goes, don’t you, Rat?”
“Eurgh. Why can’t you give us something fun? Like shopping? I’m really good at shopping.”
“Shopping?” Jun blinks in confusion.
“You know, shopping. Without money.”
Jun grimaces but he doesn’t say anything more, focusing instead on keeping his love shielded from the sun.
“You’re Milkfangs,” Vex reminds them. “You don’t go shopping until you’re Hounds.”
“Rinnie, what does tax collection involve?” Jun asks, innocently.
“Eh…it’s easier to just show you,” Rin says, giving the man’s bare waist an affectionate pat. His hand does linger for a while after however, causing Jun to twitch and blush. Rin suppresses a smirk and glances at Vex. “Anywhere in particular?”
“The usual place. Main street. The more you collect, the faster you get to be a Hound. And then you don’t gotta collect no more.”
Rin groans dramatically and collapses atop the ‘drying mechanism’, limbs strewn every which way. He stares at Solaris through the fabric of Jun’s shirt. It’s but a gauzy ball of light, weakly filtering into his sacred shelter.
He knows that his little lord is going to protest their assignment as soon as he realises what it entails. Rin has no energy to deal with tax collection, let alone trying to convince a moralistic lord to extort money from poverty-stricken Slummers.
Indeed, when they start their rounds on the main street, Jun reacts exactly as he expected.
“You better leave while you have your limbs intact.” The butcher slams his oversized knife into the shank he’s working on and the blade bites into bone. Grisly bits fly into the air and bloated black flies buzz in a frenzy anew.
Jun instinctively raises his arm between Rin and the blade, nudging the raven behind his back.
“It’s okay, Bijan. You can relax, Masa and I are the best of friends, right?” Rin pats the lord’s protective arm before extricating himself and stepping closer to the irascible butcher. “Masa, pet, be reasonable. You know everyone’s gotta pay up. It wouldn’t be fair if I just let you go.”
The burly, fat man narrows his eyes at Rin. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s covered in gristle and gore for most of the day, the Rat might have once tried to wheedle him into bed. Masa has a stoicism that’s present in his stony eyes and strong features, and the way he handles his blade is–
THWACK. Said blade slams down again, chopping the shank in twain.
Rin almost flinches but he maintains his saccharine smile – in fact, he dares to lean his elbows upon the workbench, cupping his face between his palms.
“You know as well as I that this ‘tax’ is nothing more than extortion,” Masa growls, ripping through the stubborn tendons. “Things were perfectly fine before that Marquis took over the Slums. Now those stupid kids come round here every week, hassling honest folk. How are we supposed to make a living like this?”
Rin idly waves the fat flies from his face, feeling sluggish in the midday heat. Though the store is kept cool by what he suspects is magic, in order to preserve the meat through the day.
“Rinnie,” Jun leans down to murmur in his ear. His breath tickles the side of his face. “I think we should leave the good man alone. He seems rather busy–”
“Just keep your pretty mouth shut and let me handle this, Bijan,” Rin mutters, tapping the lord’s clammy cheek with his fingertips. “We have a job to do, remember?”
Jun sighs and moves away, opting to watch from the sidelines albeit with great reluctance.
“Masa,” Rin says, returning his focus to the butcher. “I’ll give you one last chance to pay up. I’m just here to collect the tax, not listen to your complaints. If you keep refusing then whatever happens is on you.”
The butcher drops the shank and picks up his knife, knuckles turning white around the sticky handle. “So this is what you’ve decided to do with your life, is it? After going mad and drinking yourself into a stupor everyday, you’ve decided to become a no good bootlicker. Is this really the best you can do for yourself, Rat?”
“Are we so familiar that you’d be so concerned about me?” Rin raises a brow, casually poking at the exposed bone of the shank. “Ten silvers, Masa. It’s not even that big of an amount.”
“Ten silvers is four meals. Almost half of what I get in a day–”
In a blur of motion, the Rat pulls out one of his tanto blades and stabs it into the workbench – a hair’s breadth from the man’s resting hand. “Ten silvers, Masa,” he monotones, eye hooded. “I like you a lot. So don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
He senses the lord shifting restlessly behind. Should Jun interrupt their exchange, he could potentially neuter his attempts at intimidation. If he can’t stomach this, then he won’t be able to stomach being a Hound. In a way, this is also a test for the little lord.
Masa drops his gaze to the tanto, entirely unmoved. “I see you’ve got yourself a toothpick,” he grunts, aiming his giant blade at Rin’s nose. “Is this supposed to scare me into paying?”
“No. This is.” Rin grabs his second blade and stabs it into the butcher’s resting hand, just between the first and second knuckle. Blood squirts as an ear-shattering shout erupts from Masa. He instinctively tries to rip his pinned hand free, but of course this only worsens his injury, and he bellows again, dropping his butcher’s knife to grip tightly at his wrist.
“You–” Masa seethes, his face blanching and dripping with sweat. “You little shit!”
Jun steps forward instinctually, heart dropping to the pits of his stomach. But he remembers himself in time and bites down on his tongue. To interject here would mean to betray his trust in the raven. Even so, he’s greatly disturbed by the scene, and fearful of escalating violence.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Rin pushes his blade in deeper, inciting another agonised shout. The big man trembles and grits his teeth as he endures the punishment. “This is your fault, you know. All you had to do was pay ten silvers. Is that all your hand is worth to you, hm?”
“I’ll kill you!” Masa howls, veins popping in his dripping forehead. His eyes are wide and maddened as he snatches for Rin’s throat with his free hand.
The raven deftly steps out of reach and pulls both tantos free, releasing the butcher. “You can kill me after you’ve given me the coin,” he says, calmly wiping the bloodied blade on his pants. “Ten silvers and you can have at me all you want. Deal?”
Masa reels, gripping the wrist of his injured hand as he gnashes his teeth. “You scum!” Blood drips steadily from his hand, mingling with the cow’s blood on the bench. “You’re the lowliest of the low. When I thought you couldn’t get any worse, you turn around and exceed my expectations. How could you treat people like this?!”
“What?” Rin barks a laugh. “Do I owe you anything? I’ve seen you treat the stray dogs around here better than you’ve treated me. When I was being attacked outside your store, what was it that you said? Oh, that’s right. You told me to ‘fuck off’ because I was driving away your customers.”
He flashes the man a grin, though no mirth can be seen. “I don’t owe you anything. Know that I treat you as well as you’ve treated me, and I won’t hesitate to repay your kindness ten times over.”
Masa presses his white lips together, trembling. His rage is tainted with a modicum of guilt as he’s reminded of their last encounter. Truthfully, he hadn’t realised that the Rat was being assaulted. He’d simply chalked it up to the lad being too drunk and impatient to get somewhere private. It’s difficult to tell with the Rat, Masa tells himself. The boy’s caustic words and cavalier attitude seems to invite such interactions, so of course he had leapt to the incorrect conclusion.
Whether it’s this revelation or the painful warning given to him via tanto, the butcher reluctantly grabs his coin purse and tosses it to the raven.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“Kjxf la jcv ifjnf,” tf ugbkir, kgjqqlcu j mifjc mibat jgbecv tlr kbecvfv tjcv. “Ccv P jvnlrf sbe ab olcv wbgf tbcfra kbgx.”
Elc mbecar bea fifnfc rlinfgr (lcmievlcu bcf fzagj rlinfg obg vef gfqjgjalbcr) jcv abrrfr atf mblc qegrf bcab atf kbgxyfcmt. Lf qbmxfar atf wbcfs jcv oijrtfr Zjrj j megifv rwlif. “Ktlcx P mbeiv fnfg ufa tbcfra kbgx klat atlr ojmf? Ccv jcskjs, atlr lr kjs wbgf oec. P’ii rff sbe cfza kffx, Zjrj. Dfra ufa ab j tfjifg yfobgf sbeg tjcv ufar lcofmafv.”
When they leave the butchery, the smile drops from Rin’s face. He slips his blades back into their rosewood sayas.
Jun gazes at the raven’s face for a time, his thoughts unreadable.
Eventually, Rin tilts his head to meet the other’s eyes. “What?” he snaps, flaring in irritation. “I got the ten silvers, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Jun says, softly. He averts his eyes to focus instead on the road ahead.
Rin huffs and grabs the lord’s hand, tugging him close. Jun allows him to do so, but he keeps his eyes on the road.
“I warned you about this,” Rin reminds him, expression sour. “Don’t get pissy with me now, just ‘cus you can’t stomach a bit of blood.”
“You should have told me beforehand what you were going to do.”
“Why?”
“I could have tried to convince you otherwise.”
“Do you really think that Masa would’ve given me the coin if I didn’t use violence?” Rin scoffs and twists his lips into a sneer. “The guy’s a stubborn asshole. He’d rather chop me into pieces than give in. And it’s not just him either. Slummers don’t know anything other than blood. That’s the only thing that really shakes them. If we did things your way, we’d never get anything done.”
“I respectfully disagree,” Jun says, stiffly. “I believe that Slummers, much like those in the other districts, can be reasoned with. We must simply be kind and patient–”
“Kind? You think what we’re doing here is kind?” The raven laughs loudly, meanly. “You’re dreaming, little lord. As cute as I think you are, sometimes you got your head so far up your ass–”
“Let me try,” Jun implores. He clasps Rin’s shoulder and they both stop in the middle of the street. Passerbys knock into them and curse them out loudly.
Rin raises a brow at the lord, hand on hip. “Try what?”
“The next person we collect from. Let me try to do it my way. If I am successful, then we know that there is an alternative approach we can use.”
The raven cocks his head in thought. Seeing Jun’s austerity sways him and he gives in with a short sigh. “Fine. But if it doesn’t work, then you gotta stop being squeamish about using violence.”
“I am not squeamish,” Jun says, expression darkening. “I simply disapprove of it.”
“Whatever.” Rin spins on his heels and continues stalking up the road.
He doesn’t get far before the lord catches up. Rin notes with a twist of his lips that he has to take two steps for Jun’s one.
“Does it happen quite often?” Jun suddenly asks, an air of grimness still hanging around his head. “The assault you and Masa spoke of?”
“You know how I get sometimes,” Rin shrugs. “When I lose my head. I like to put myself in stupid situations and people take advantage of that.”
Jun falls silent after that, his dark aura increasing twofold.
The vegetable stall is manned by a kind-faced woman and a grumbly, snot-nosed child of about nine or ten years old. The child packs up the vegetables for customers as his mother carries out the transaction. Occasionally, when they have an unruly customer, he picks up his fists and chases them off or beats them into compliance (or rather, beats their legs until they become fed up and give into his demands).
Rin himself has had to deal with this snot-nosed kid from time to time, especially whenever he’s tried to pilfer a tomato or two to snack on. It’s no wonder then, that both Rat and child wear a similarly ugly expression as the Milkfangs approach the stall.
“We’ve run out of tomatoes!” the boy yells, stomping around the stall to stand before it defensively. “Get outta here, Rat. Or I’ll beat you up like I did last time!”
Rin rolls his eye and folds his arms. “I’m not here for tomatoes. You can relax, alright? And wipe your nose, it’s leaking.”
The kid rubs his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a glistening streak of snot across his cheek. He scowls and raises his small fists higher. “I wiped my nose. Now go away!”
“Kang Dae-ah. You shouldn’t be so rude,” his mother chides him, though her expression is also not very good. She warily eyes the Rat and his handsome companion. “Would you like to buy anything? It is true that we have run out of tomatoes…”
Rin shoves the little lord forward, though the other is so dense in body that he’s only moved a step.
“Good afternoon,” he greets the woman with a dazzling smile, startling her badly. Even the kid is momentarily stunned and his fists sink to his waist. “My name is Bijan Azar and I am here on behalf of the Marquis.”
“Th-the Marquis?” The woman brings a hand to his mouth as she blushes. “You are a Hound?”
“A Milkfang,” Jun confirms, dipping his head politely. “May I ask for your name?”
“…Ga Ram,” she says, guardedly. “And this is my son, Kang Dae.”
“Good afternoon, Kang Dae. It is a pleasure to meet you,” Jun greets the scowling boy kindly, going as far as to bowing as if Kang Dae were his superior. This seems to placate the boy, for he drops his fists entirely.
“You’re here to take coin from my mother, aren’t you?” Kang Dae says, little face wrinkling.
“Ah…I have been asked to collect tax, yes.” Jun rubs his nape, uncertainly. “I must sincerely apologise for the inconvenience–”
“Inconvenience?” Ga Ram grimaces, her clear eyes flashing in anger. “Bijan Azar. Do you know what the value of ten silvers is to me and my family? You are taking food directly from our table. That is more than just an inconvenience.”
“Yes, of course. Please do forgive me.” Jun dips his head, jaw tightening. “I do appreciate that this is not an ideal situation. However, I have been given an assignment that I must complete. Unfortunately, this means indeed, asking for ten silvers.”
“You’re not getting anything from us!” Kang Dae yells, raising his fists again. He even jabs at the lord’s thigh, hoping to intimidate him. Alas, to Jun the blow is nothing more than a mosquito bite.
“Kang Dae,” the woman says, sharply. “Come here.”
The boy flinches and hastens to his mother’s side, sufficiently cowed. He clings onto her skirt and glares at the Milkfang, bottom lip jutting out in upset.
Ga Ram raises her chin, regarding Jun heatedly. “You’re worse than the usual ones that come around.”
“Worse?” Jun raises his brows, confusion rippling across his face. “How so?”
“You are shameless,” Ga Ram says, disgust heavy in her tone. “You dare steal from me with a smile. Acting like you’re a perfect gentleman with not a speck of dirt on your soul when it’s black as night. I’d much rather you upturn my stall and threaten violence like the others do. At least then my stomach won’t curl the way it does in front of you.”
The lord stares at her, stunned, his face burning with shame. He tries to swallow but his mouth is as dry as the desert. “…I-I apologise–”
“If you’re truly sorry, then you will stop stealing from me.” She sighs, softening when she sees the man’s helpless expression. “It’s not too late to return to your mother. You should study and become someone proper. Right the wrongs you have done in your life.” She glances down at her pouting child and rubs his head.
“…My mother is dead,” Jun murmurs, watching the two with a flicker of envy.
Ga Ram gives the lord a pitying look. “I’m sorry.”
Jun pulls in a deep breath. “How about this, Ga Ram. If you give me ten silvers today, I will return tomorrow morning and assist you with your stall. You could consider it a wage for my efforts.”
“…Ten silvers is a large amount,” Ga Ram says, carefully.
“I will work at your stall every day this week.”
“…” The woman furrows her brow as she considers the lord’s offer.
“This is the best I can offer you at this time.”
Ga Ram heaves a sigh and nods. “Very well. I will take your word for it.”
The little lord smiles. “Thank you, Ga Ram. Kang Dae. I appreciate your cooperation.”
After Jun collects the coin, he and Rin continue to the next business. They have only collected from two people thus far and they were already weary.
Jun hands over the coin with a grimace. “There. Ten silvers and not a single act of violence.”
“Yeah. I suppose lying like that is a viable option,” Rin muses, tucking the coin into his pocket. Every step jangles. “Though I’m surprised you have it in you.”
“I was not lying,” Jun says, frowning. “I truly intend to work for Ga Ram to pay off the ten silvers.”
Rin clicks his tongue. “You’re an idiot. How are you supposed to become a Hound when you’re selling vegetables all week? And what are you going to do with everyone else? We got ten more people to collect from today, little lord. Are you gonna work for them too?”
“…I will figure something out,” Jun says, firmly. “Whether I have to sell the clothes on my back or create a contract of repayment, I will find a compromise that works for everyone.”
Rin snatches the front of Jun’s shirt and drags him into a nearby alley. He slams the man against the grimy wall, keeping him pinned with his palm. His breath comes fast, his cheeks dark with blood. The pitch of his eye glints in the murky shade.
“I want to know something, little lord,” he growls, heart pounding loudly in his ears. “When you become Governor, how exactly do you plan on changing things?”
Jun gazes down at Rin, his oaken lashes dropping and casting his goldens in shadow. “With policy and reform,” he says, evenly. “I will redistribute wealth and resources, and ensure that all people have a voice, whether they are Slummers or aristocrats.”
“Sounds lofty enough,” Rin sneers, pushing his palm harder into the lord’s chest. He can feel the other’s heartbeat, slow and steady beneath his palm. “But you’re gonna get pushback. The High District assholes ain’t gonna like that. And there’s gonna be pushback from the People’s District too. What are you gonna do then?”
“I will listen to their complaints and offer a compromise. Much like what I did with Ga Ram and Kang Dae.”
“And what if there is no compromise?”
“There is always a compromise.”
“Fine. Say there is. And say that they’re still not satisfied. What then?”
“Then I will have to find another solution.”
“And what if that doesn’t work? What then?”
“Then they will simply have to be dissatisfied,” Jun frowns, words tinged with uncertainty. In truth, he hadn’t thought about it this far. “Over time they will come to see the benefits of reformation–”
“And if they take action against you?”
“…If they break the law, then they will be judged and punished according to the imperial legislation.”
“You risk them becoming martyrs and pissing off more people. You could create a new rebellion.”
“Rinnie, what is your point?”
“There’s gonna be collateral, no matter how badly you want to satisfy everyone. If you want real change, you’re gonna have to make sacrifices. Whether that’s yourself or other people, do you understand?”
Jun furrows his brow, consternation flickering in his darkened gaze. He brings his hand to Rin’s scarred cheek, brushing his thumb beneath the eye patch. The raven starts, but he doesn’t move away.
“Did you not once tell me that you did not approve of the war? You were worried for the so-called collateral and wished for it to be over.” Jun gently tucks a stray lock of hair behind Rin’s ear. “Why have you changed your mind? What happened?”
The Rat averts his gaze. “…There’s no change without bloodshed. People aren’t convinced by weakness. They only recognise strength.” And if I’m to protect you, protect us, then I have to be strong. Even if I have to use other people as collateral.
“Rinnie. Kindness is not weakness. Trying to preserve the sanctity of life is not weakness. Surely, you know this.”
“Trying to be kind in a world full of assholes is only gonna get you killed,” Rin says, curtly. He drops his palm from the lord’s chest and widens the gap between them. “Same goes for what we’re doing now. If you can’t act the Hound, then you’re gonna get found out. And all our efforts will be for nothing.”
Jun visibly hesitates, his stance wavering. “Even so, I cannot in good faith–”
“Good faith ain’t gonna get rid of the Marquis,” Rin snaps, running the back of his palm over his sweaty brow. The heat is stifling, moreso as his blood pressure rises. “You need to remember why we’re doing this. We may be assholes now, but if we don’t stay strong, Ga Ram’s gonna have to pay up ten silvers every week for as long as the Marquis has control of the Slums.”
“You are asking me to act against my values, Rinnie. Everything I stand against, everything I abhor, you expect me to engage in.”
“Yeah, because this isn’t about you.”
“…” Goldens widen in surprise, as if the thought had never occurred to him before. The little lord raises a hand to his jaw, rubbing it as he ruminates on Rin’s words.
“This was your idea in the first place, remember?” Rin continues, anger ebbing when he sees that his argument is finally taking hold. “Whatever we do, Jun, know that the Marquis will do twice as much. A moment of discomfort is always better than a lifetime of suffering. Don’t you think so?”
Jun pushes out a deep exhale. “…I suppose you do have a point.”
Rin gently takes the man’s hand, interlocking their fingers. “I know acting like an asshole doesn’t come naturally to you. But all you gotta do is just follow my lead. You trust me, right?”
“Yes, I do,” Jun rumbles, staring at their conjoined hands. A faint smile graces his lips.
“Then we do things my way.”
“…Yes.”
“And no sulking!”
Jun huffs amusedly and squeezes his love’s hand. “No sulking.”
“Good,” Rin grins, tugging the lord back into the bustling street. “There may be hope for you yet!”
***
They find the Marquis on the second floor of the Temple in a crumbling room that’s been set up like a rather shoddy office. Everything in this office had been either stolen or salvaged from the junkyard, so there is a bipolar design with both deteriorated and superlative furniture.
The newest Milkfangs pad their way to the Marquis’ desk, the plush carpet clearly taken straight from a High District mansion.
“Bijan Azar! Mon bébé souris!” The Marquis exclaims, swinging idly in his swivel seat as he nurses a glass of liquor. He appears more lucid and lively today, though dark bags hang under his phoenix eyes, accentuating his gauntness. “I take it that you have returned with great success?”
“Only the greatest,” Rin says, dryly, tossing the heavy coin purse onto the man’s desk. “A hundred and twenty silvers, exactly.”
“Formidable,” Korain swirls his drink, not bothering to count the coin. “I knew you would do well.”
“So do we pass probation?” Jun gruffs, hiding his accent behind his rough tone.
“It is only the first day, mon cheri. If you continue your good work, then I may consider your promotion.” The Marquis reaches into the first drawer and pulls out two empty glasses. He indicates the seats before his desk with a genial smile. “Come and join me for a drink to celebrate your first successful day as Milkfangs.”
“No thanks,” Rin clips, impassively. “If there’s nothing else, we have other things to do.”
“It is not a request.”
The Marquis and the Rat stare at each other for a tense moment, neither willing to back down from their stance.
Eventually, Jun steps in and gently ushers the raven into one of the seats. “We would be glad to join you, Marquis,” he says, politely.
Rin scowls and grabs the bottle of Northern whisky from the Marquis’ desk. If he’s forced to drink with his former lover, then he’s going to indulge as much as he can.
“Do you recognise the label?” Korain asks gleefully as Rin splashes a healthy portion into his glass. When he goes to pour for Jun, the lord declines with a shake of the head.
“Egrar single malt, right? Your tastes haven’t changed one bit.” Rin kicks his feet up onto the desk and takes a health sip. The liquor burns his throat and warms his insides.
“Ah, but you enjoy this label as much as I,” Korain sings, crossing his legs elegantly. “Bijar Azar. What drink do you enjoy?”
“I do not drink often,” Jun says, honestly. “So I cannot give you a proper answer.”
“I admire a man who treats his body and health with respect. If it weren’t for my addictions, I would wish to follow in your footsteps one day.”
Rin sneers into his glass as he takes another sip.
“You do not have to be ruled by your addictions, Marquis,” Jun says, clasping his hands politely in his lap. “I have seen many people with similar addictions who have successfully recovered. If you seek the proper treatment and support, you too will be able to overcome your addictions.”
Korain’s eyes glitter amusedly over the rim of his glass. “Is that so? You are the first to offer such kind words to me.”
“If you would like, I can refer you to a Healer who works specially with substance addiction at the Clinic.”
“You have only been here a few months and yet you already have such esteemed connections,” Korain muses, raking his slender fingers through his hair. “You are a very impressive man, Bijan Azar.”
Rin casts a glare at his little lord. Remember your cover!
“Ah…it is purely by coincidence that I know of this Healer…” Jun tugs on his collar and picks up the empty glass as if to take a sip. He stares at it blankly before setting it back down. “But I did have a question, Marquis, if I may.”
“Ask away, mon cheri.”
“This tax we have collected for you. What will you use it for?”
Rin tenses, fingers turning white around his glass. He flits his gaze between the two men, lingering on the Marquis as he tries to gauge his reaction.
“Let me guess…” the Marquis hums. “You presume me to be nothing but a petty criminal, extorting coin from good, hardworking Slummers.”
“…It appears that way to me, yes,” Jun says, bluntly.
Korain laughs behind his hand, eyes arching as his cheeks swell. “Oh, Bijan Azar. I do appreciate your honesty. First and foremost, I must apologise to you both. I threw you into the deep end without so much as an explanation. That, and I also apologise for last night. I understand that I had acted…rather inappropriately for honest company.”
“You were…inebriated,” Jun says, cheeks darkening at the memory. “I understand that you were not fully cognisant.”
“You are most gracious,” Korain says, appearing greatly relieved. “Sometimes when I have partaken, I tend to…act outside of my own control.”
“I understand, Marquis. There is no need to apologise.”
“Speak for yourself,” Rin mutters, refilling his glass with a scowl.
“As for your question,” Korain continues, acting as though he hadn’t heard Rin, “the money you have collected will be redistributed back into the Slums. Whether that be free meals for the hungry, housing for those without shelter, paying off Silverswords to release the wrongly accused, and so on.” He rolls his hand, indicating an ongoing and unspoken list. “It is as it’s called – a tax for the Slums. You see, many Slummers are not considered true citizens of the East. This means that there are no resources being poured into this district. Nothing is being fixed. Nothing is getting better. It is essentially, ungoverned and neglected. And so, I have created a taxation plan to improve the condition of the Slums. With collective effort, we will better the lives of all Slummers.”
Jun listens intently as the man speaks, his surprise evident by the other’s eloquence and convincing assertions.
“But those we have taxed seem rather reluctant,” the lord argues. “In fact, they only paid after the threat of violence.”
“If there is one thing you must know about Slummers, Bijan Azar, it is that we are always in survival mode. This means stepping on others to keep ourselves alive. It is no wonder that you came across such resistance, however that is exactly the kind of attitude I am hoping to change. Out of those you have collected from today, how many gave you the coin without your resorting to violence?”
“I would say there were two people who paid willingly.”
“And that is two more than last week. While I do not like the idea of forcing people to pay, we must do so until this general attitude changes. While some vendors may think of only themselves, that does not mean that they should be exempt from contributing. It is a small price to pay for the betterment of the community.”
“That is a rather heavy handed approach.” Jun glances at the raven, who has resigned himself to drinking his way through the bottle. Rinnie says the same thing. That there must be a sacrifice made to make substantial change. Is there merit in this?
“Heavy handed, yes. But this is also the most equitable approach. If the same approach had been applied to the entire city, including the High District, think how much resource could be poured back into the community? The nobles wouldn’t ever pay the tax willingly, but if we were to exert some force, wouldn’t we eradicate the Slums altogether? Wouldn’t we have enough coin to eradicate poverty and inequity?”
“…You do make a convincing point,” Jun acquiesces, rubbing his jaw. Perhaps he had been too quick to vilify the Marquis. At this moment, he seems quite intelligent and reasonable, espousing similar values that Jun holds in high regard.
“Come off it, Korain,” Rin snorts, slamming the bottle down. It’s about half empty, an impressive effort on the raven’s part. “Think we can’t see through your bullshit? It stinks as bad as your breath.” He turns to Jun and jabs a finger into his arm. “Don’t listen to him. He knows how to use words as well as you do, but that don’t mean that he’s not lying. He’s just trying to get on your good side. Make you lower your defenses.”
Jun rubs his sore arm, unconvinced by the raven’s warning.
“Did you forget what you said?” Rin snaps, baffled that he even has to remind Jun. “’A man who resorts to violence is not a man I would entrust with the Slums.’ That’s what you told me, don’t you remember?”
Now who’s forgotten about their cover? Jun frowns and grabs the drunken youth’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze in warning. “You had misheard me,” he says, quickly. “I said that I was troubled by the excessive violence. Never had I questioned the Marquis’ claim to territory–”
“It is quite alright, Bijan Azar,” Korain says, benevolently. “I understand the kind of man you are. You have after all witnessed much violence in the West, especially after the cruelty enacted against your family. But things are different here in the East. The language of the Slummers is violence, and if you are to be a Hound, you must come to understand this, as you might attempt to understand the local customs, oui?”
“Surely injuring that poor woman last night was not necessary…”
“Pug had acted independently and assaulted two innocents without reason. This is not the first time she has done so. There have been multiple incidents and multiple punishments. She has thus far maimed several people and her actions have even led to the death of an innocent child. I think her punishment last night was more than lenient. By now, she would have been seen by a Healer and she is most likely loitering around the Slums causing mischief as usual. Whether or not she’s learned her lesson is now beyond me, but I have done all I can to the extent of my power. Would you still condemn me after knowing this?”
“Why do you not use the Silverswords?” Jun pushes, though he knows that he has very little ground left to stand on.
“That is a question even you know the answer to, mon cheri,” Korain says, sipping on his drink. “They would have killed her. And while I do not condone her actions, I also do not condone capital punishment.”
“Neither do I,” Jun nods, pinching his chin as his mind ticks fervently. He and the Marquis are remarkably similar in their values and outlook, and their goals align almost perfectly. Though Jun does feel uneasy by the other’s excessive use of violence, he does understand that the Slums work differently to the High District. And hasn’t Rin reiterated this point time and time again? That violence is the language of the Slums. Perhaps, it is Jun that needs to adjust his mindset.
After their meeting with the Marquis, Rin and Jun settle into their new sleeping arrangement, though it is largely uncomfortable and gloomy. As Milkfangs, they had been given one of the countless rooms in the Temple to share as sleeping quarters. Two simple cots have been set up with a wash basin, desk, and rudimentary electrical lighting rigged up.
Rin stretches out in his cot and kicks off the flimsy blanket, his head spinning pleasantly from the drink. “You don’t believe him, do you?” His words are a tad slurred. He doesn’t care to hide his inebriation from the lord.
Jun leans over the basin and washes his face thoroughly. When he comes to sit upon his cot, he’s refreshed and calm. “I think I do,” he says, patting his face dry with a small towel. “I believe he is being honest when he says he wishes to improve the Slums.”
“Of course you do,” Rin sneers, throwing his arm over his forehead. “It was like a circle jerk in there. Only he was jerking you off too and you couldn’t even tell the difference.”
“…” Jun narrows his eyes, uncomprehending the raven’s crude analogy. “I understand why you believe us to be similar,” he says, slowly. “I think we share much in common. Perhaps, the man you thought had gone is in fact still alive and well.”
Rin grimaces and angles his head away from the lord’s scrutiny. He doesn’t want to admit that for a moment, he thought that Korain, the sweet, honest boy from his memories, had actually returned. The earnest words the Marquis uttered over his whisky had almost convinced Rin as well. But then, he just had to remember the darkness.
“No, he’s gone. I know he’s gone.” Rin’s voice cracks midway and he internally cringes.
In quiet contemplation, Jun rises from his cot and collects Rin’s discarded blanket. He flaps the dust from the fabric and gently drapes it over the youth’s prone form. “I believe that people can change,” he says, squatting beside the cot. He picks up his love’s hand and clasps it within his own. Rough thumbs rub comforting circles on the back of his palm. “Perhaps, we should give him a chance. At least, we should not be so dismissive of his efforts.”
“We’re here to get rid of him, not support him,” Rin mutters, though he does relax under the lord’s ministrative touch.
“I think it is wise to keep an eye on him. And if we decide to continue with our plan, then we will do so. Otherwise, if we deem him to be genuine, then we can step away.”
“…This is hard for me, you know. Being back here. Seeing his face.” Rin’s lashes quiver as he gnaws on his bottom lip. “I keep trying to be strong, but I feel so…unstable. Like I’m not in control of myself.” He pauses, breath shivering between his words. “It almost feels like…how I did when I was with Kahin…”
Jun brings Rin’s hand to his lips and he leaves a trail of tender kisses upon his knuckles. They are calloused from fights prior and his heart suddenly aches. “Rinnie…may I ask…what he did to you?”
Rin trembles at those soft kisses, skin tingling in their wake. “…You’re the only one who treats my body like this, you know. No-one’s ever kissed my hand the way you do. Like it’s…precious…or something.”
“It is precious,” Jun husks, his gaze turned penetrating. “You are precious.”
Rin laughs and tugs his hand free. “Sure I am. The most precious commodity in the East.”
“You are not a commodity. You are the most precious person to me. A person whose existence is something to be celebrated and treasured.” Jun raises himself up and hunches over the drunken youth, leaning his hands on either side of Rin’s head. “Your body is sacred, Rinnie. Every inch of you should only be loved.”
Rin’s eye turns misty as he endures the other’s heavy, simmering gaze. His cheeks bloom and his addled head spins wildly. “Jun…will you…show me…?”
“I will.” Jun lowers himself and softly kisses his poor, drunken love, inciting a muffled whimper.
Rin rings his arms around his little lord’s neck and pulls him closer to deepen the kiss, his entire being melting into the warm and gentle sensations of the other’s lips.
And for a time afterwards, Jun tries to convince him how sacred his body is. And eventually, however briefly, Rin comes to believe him.
… now i understand the need for the bullshittery warning. Can’t believe jun is still that naive?? Please!! How can you believe this guy, jun?! I bet you this money is used to buy the bastard’s drugs and alcohol 🤦♀️🤦♀️
Jun is a total himbo!!!! But that’s just in his nature 😅 Thank you for reading <33
The last part tho QAQ
Thank you for the chapter!! ❤️❤️
No matter what happens, there will always be the Gay TTuTT Thank you for reading! <333
I like the Marquis. He’s interesting.
I like the Marquis too!!! He’s really fun to write 😂 Thank you for reading! <33