Red Light AU

[commontype]

Inspired by prompt.

Comments

Closed to lednikovyy

[dinerfights]

[The air was hot and sweet. The breeze perfumed with the scent of ripe plums and the faintest hint of rosemary. The former a naturally growing fruit that people of his status weren’t allowed to consume and the latter strewn across cold stone floors as a luxurious touch. The walls of the palace were painted blue and purple, hints of gold placed strategically. With all the sun and sand right outside, the opulence inside was startling. Comforts at ever turn. Laughter and music every night. Food and drink flowing and stacked high on fine wooden tables. Delicate silks draped over his body accentuated by intricate and twisted silver bangles at his wrists. Turquoise at his ears to match his eyes.

He’d soaked in scented waters an hour before. Twice a day he was cleaned. Creams massaged into his skin. Hair combed and styled. Nails trimmed. It was a lengthy and monotonous process that he handles with no complaint and all the grace he could. The music begins, his song, and he smiles as he walks out into the dining hall. His hips sway and his eyes land on the older man sitting in the highest chair, set away and above everyone. His eyes flit down, coy.

Steve climbs up the stairs. One. Two. Three. Four. And then climbs into Alexander’s lap. He balances on a thigh as a strong arm winds around his waist, pulling him close and closer still. Steve relaxes into the contact with a delighted sigh. The night, and every one before it for a year now, is the same. He’ll sit there until the king grows bored and then Steve will kiss or touch him as he’s guided. Then - before they go to his quarters - the king catches his mouth in a deep kiss and holds it until Steve looks to the right, always to the right. Holds it until the king’s Guard makes eye contact. Holds it until Steve giggles and clings more fiercely to the ruler.

A game. Always a game. Always the same.

Then he leaves on a week long trip, in an unplanned rush to meet with the leader of an opposing country and leaves Steve behind. Leaves that guard, the right hand, behind to act as ruler while he’s gone. It’s not unusual but it hasn’t happened while Steve has lived in the palace. Night falls and his heart beats harder and harder and harder until it threatens to explode. He’s lead to the king’s quarters to sleep alone and he wants to cry. It’s harder to feign happiness when the only thing keeping him from going back to the pits wasn’t around to remind him of how fortunate he was. It was harder to feign happiness when that guard was so close and he was forced to tease him every night and never have what he wants.

He startled at a sound behind him, spinning and narrowing his eyes at the shadows.]

Who’s there?

[lednikovyy]

[ It's been three years since the war. Three years since Bucky left a battlefield for the last time to serve in the palace. Three years since his left arm was burned and scarred by their enemies. They had won, but at the cost of many men and the scars on Bucky's body are only a reminder of the losses he'd seen.

A man of lesser birth with his injuries would have been forced to fight for sport, but Bucky's parents, gone though they were, had been noble and Bucky had been cared after with great attention. Once the injuries had faded and the scars had lost some of their redness, Bucky had been given the option to serve as the head guard. It hadn't been much of an option at all, but he'd taken it over wallowing away in his childhood home as what little money his family had dwindled. This would be his life now. It would have to be.

He's good at his job. The King is always safe and he takes Bucky's council when Bucky is careful with his words. Never give too much away. Never let the King see how much he makes Bucky's skin crawl.

It's his fault that the King had noticed Steve and for that, he's eternally sorry. There's very little he can do to protect Steve from the King's expectations and desires and that makes Bucky's skin crawl, too, but he's taken his own vows and he has to uphold them. He is here until the King retires him and only then will he have a life beyond these walls.

So he watches Steve, the way his small frame moves and the way he glances to Bucky sometimes. Bucky can't react, but his own gaze always lingers. When he's sent to retrieve Steve, he can't help the way his hand will rest on Steve's back, guiding him as they walk, even as Bucky knows exactly what he's walking Steve into. The touches are never intimate, but they're always there, whether they're necessary or not. It's the only contact he's allowed.

The King leaving for a week isn't entirely unusual, but him leaving without Bucky is. He'd said something about protecting the palace and the guards coming with him being perfectly loyal and good men, but Bucky has some questions of that. Capable, yes, but Rumlow is hardly a good man in Bucky's book. He's seen the way he runs around with the King's former concubines and cast-offs, as if they aren't still off-limits. As if they aren't trapped and afraid like most of the servants here. ]

It's only me.

[ He moves from the shadows, sword sheathed and armor in place. His left arm is fully covered, as always, and his face neutral.

It had been another guard who had led Steve here tonight, but it's Bucky who had been told to keep an eye on Steve by the King himself. He'd been adamant that no one else even get the chance to touch him. ]

The King wanted me to guard you in his absence.

[dinerfights]

[Steve doesn't move. His arms are folded over his chest and his expression falls to something neutral. Blank. If he was ever in danger of revealing his true thoughts and feelings in front of the King, he would be no better when faced with his heart's desire completely alone. In a different life they could be together. He could run his hands over the guard's scars, touch that strong jaw with his fingertips, know the taste of his lips. In another life Steve would be free.

He wouldn't know what sounds the King made in bed. How he snored and held Steve close even though his wife was a few feet away. He was nothing. No one. A King's prized whore but he wanted. He understood that he'd never have that life, any life other than this, but it didn't keep his dreams away.]

I don't want you here.

[He attempts to say it with some sort of conviction. Demanding. Commanding. He's not higher ranking than Bucky but he was the King's favorite. To be protected and coveted but never touched. It kept Rumlow away but it kept other's away as well.]

They wouldn't dare touch me.

[Which wasn't true at all. Steve knew, with certainty, that if someone thought it would hurt the King that they would harm him. It wouldn't. Alexander enjoyed him in bed. Enjoyed using him to tease and taunt others, but he didn't love him. He wouldn't let himself love a slave. He may or may not seek retribution. It all would depend on his mood on that day.

Steve turns back towards the window. He holds his stiff posture as long as he can but eventually his shoulders slump. He was exhausted. Always tired. He was unhappy in his current position but saw no way out of it. He had no family or friend's in the King's great home. He had no one. The King made sure of it. He made it so that Steve was desperate for his attention, no matter how much he didn't really want any of it.]

Please leave me. I want to be by myself.

[He didn't. He never wanted to be alone. Steve tips his head up. The view from the King's room was beautiful. The stars twinkling brightly. The most beautiful man he'd ever known a few feet behind him. He couldn't think of anything with Bucky so close.]

If you don't go I'll say something we'll both regret.

[lednikovyy]

[ Bucky swallows, contrite. The truth is that a great number of people would touch Steve and not the way Bucky wishes he could. No, they wouldn't trust him with reverence or kindness. They would take things from him and they would see him broken, some to hurt the king and others for sport. Bucky's reputation as a noble man is a very much earned one. That's why he's here instead of anyone else. The King trusts Bucky with this. The King knows Bucky is smart enough not to touch his property and honorable enough not to take something that isn't on offer. ]

You know I can't. I've been ordered to stay.

[ His eyes linger over the curve of Steve's neck where it meets the dip of his shoulder. Bucky longs to touch him in some of the most mundane ways sometime, because everything about him is beautiful to Bucky.

If he's honest, he's happy for this to be his assignment. Keeping Steve safe is the best duty he's been given in a long time. It's definitely a worthy cause. ]

Perhaps if you feel that way, though, you shouldn't say anything at all and I won't, either, and it will be as if you are alone after all.

[ He stays where he is, feet planted firmly. If he takes a step towards Steve, he knows he'll take another and another and then where will they be? He'll keep moving until he can wrap his arms around Steve and look out on the night below. Steve might even let him and that would be the worst part of all, because neither of them are their own people anymore and the man who owns both their lives would sooner kill them both than let them go.

And then, softer: ]

There are men in this palace who wouldn't hesitate to hurt you. I won't let them.

[dinerfights]

[Ordered to stay. Commanded. He had rules to follow just like Steve did. Not here because he truly desired to be. Not standing there because he wants Steve in the same way that Steve wants him. Steve breathes out and his whole body shakes with the effort. Tears threaten to fall but he holds them in. He won't hurt them both that way.]

I'd think you'd know better by now. I always say what I don't mean to. [Because his heart spoke for him. He had gotten better with that around the King, out of necessity, but his loose tongue still often caused him trouble.] Exactly when I know that I shouldn't.

[Steve flinches and whirls around, hands swiping through the air.]

And you think I care what they would do to me?

[He's never been as outspoken with Bucky as he is right now but once he's started, he can't seem to stop. The words, the pain, the longing, it all flows out of him.]

Don't talk to me that softly, in that tone. I can't stand it.

[Steve presses a hand to his chest, trying to get his breathing under control. He was frail and thin, but well-fed and taken care of here. A couple years ago all this yelling would have taken him down. Now it only serves to remind him of his station. Of his place here. He looks at Bucky, the guard and his protector, he looks at him and it hurts. He doesn't know if he'd enjoy Bucky's kisses. If he'd like it when he touched him. There were signs, the feel of his hand against Steve's lower back as they walk or the color of his lips, that fueled his dreams, but he was desperate to convince himself otherwise.]

Please.

[lednikovyy]

[ There's only so much willpower even a man like Bucky can muster and faced with the sight of Steve's hand on his chest, his quiet footfalls bring him closer. His hand goes to Steve's back and the touch isn't intimate, exactly, but it's not the touch of a guard guiding him down the hall. This is closer to the way Bucky used to touch his sister, back before the plague took her away, warm palm rubbing gently at Steve's back near his shoulder blades. ]

Easy. I'm not worth all this upset.

[ He means that, too. He knows his place here. Trusted, but only so much and so far below a man like the King. Now, he bides his time until retirement and prays he'll still be young enough to build something or share the rest of his life with someone. If the job takes his life, at least he knows he'll have died with his honor intact.

They are both replaceable pieces in the machine that is this castle, but he thinks the idea of Steve being replaced and tossed aside is abhorrent. How could anyone toss someone like him aside? ]

You may not care what those men would do to you, but it would do you well to remember that there are other people who might care.

[ His hand is still warm on Steve's back, like he's forgotten it there. ]

[dinerfights]

[Steve would happily disagree.

Bucky, if anything, was worth the upset. He was kind and generous. Noble and Steve didn’t apply that term to very many people. The other slaves and servants all liked him. He’d even heard a few others arguing over who would serve certain meals because Bucky was going to be there. When he wasn’t, the other guards were more rowdy. Unpleasant. And it didn’t hurt that Bucky was handsome.

The contact is worse than he’d imagined it be. If Steve thought he might want Bucky before, he had no doubts now. It wasn’t sexual or even all that intimate but it was sweet. He’d been afraid of that.]

There aren’t.

[He shakes his head and he tells his body to pull away but it doesn’t listen. Steve leans closer to Bucky. He craved touch that didn’t have an unsavory motive behind it. A hand at his back only trying to soothe his strained lungs.]

I have no one. The King has made sure of it. [No close friends or family. He was alone.] I asked you not to speak to me this way. It makes me want what I can’t have.

[lednikovyy]

[ Bucky should move away. Steve is right that they shouldn't talk like this. They shouldn't touch like this, either, because even if it looks innocent, he knows that it isn't. There's nothing innocent about his desire for what he can't have.

The words, though, he can't stop, quiet as they are and much as they violate Steve's request. He can't help it and they spill out against his will, a whisper in the quiet room. ]

I would care. They won't lay a finger on you as long as I'm around.

[ Steve is leaning closer and his body is screaming at him to close the distance and embrace him, but he stays where he is, far too close and far too familiar. If someone walked in now, he could explain it away, but he would be lying.

He wants Steve desperately, but more than that, he wants to take Steve away from this place where men would hurt him and the King would treat him like a plaything. Bucky thinks he would fight to free Steve, even if he couldn't be free with him, but he knows better. There's no life out there for a man with no money or title. It would be worse than the life in here. Bucky's title has saved him from the worst of the world, but even he knows that if he leaves, there will be very little safety or life for him out there. ]

[dinerfights]

[Steve wants to scream, rage against the pain those words cause. He hates them. Himself and Bucky. The King. The life he was born into and how there was no way out of it. He wants the longing to stop and the hurt to be, at the very least, bearable. His breathing picks up again, air straining and pushing at weakened lungs. Dots of bright light prick at his vision and he knows what that means.

He's going to pass out. ]

I tol-told you not to. [Those damn words. They were too much. Not enough.] I hate you.

[It was mean and it wasn't true. Steve turns in Bucky's arms, only reaching out to grip to keep from falling. He pushes at Bucky and stumbles. Ambles forward and pushes again. If, somehow, he were cruel enough he could convince Bucky to turn that cruelty back on him and then he wouldn't feel the way that he did anymore.]

I. Hate. You.

[lednikovyy]

[ Bucky's hold tightens as soon as he notices Steve's breath is off. Steve can be mad and he can hate Bucky, but Bucky's not going to let anything happen to him. That's what matters and he's not doing it for the King, either.

He lets Steve lean on him, lets him shove Bucky back, but he watches to make sure Steve isn't going to faint and hit his head. ]

You can hate me, but I need you to breath.

[ Pushing into Steve's personal space again, he wraps his arms around Steve, this time not letting Steve push him away. Between the two of them, he knows Steve can't best him in a struggle. ]

You have to calm down.