“Look at that boy, look at his hair-”

The small, hungry boy trembled and flushed completely red as he tried to tuck his head between his shoulders, as he made every step he took as quiet and soft as possible, like he thought by walking silently people would not notice him that much anymore.

Of course that was not going to happen. Not with his bright hair with the same color as the desert dunes, with slightly curly waves that seemed to be shaped exactly like them. A bright yellow, pretty unnatural for the area or for any onlooker.

The color of his hair was so unusual, in that region, and in that kingdom specifically. He looked around, and confirmed that notion right away - everybody’s hair was black, or brown, and he was the only person in the huge, richly decorated hall, to have a bright, blond mane.

He looked down at his wrists, bound together by a strong rope he’d tried to get rid of for the first part of the long journey from his village, but that only resulted in red signs and broken skin, so he had given that up quite soon.

And now he was here, at the Samezuka kingdom’s royal palace, together with other boys and girls that the army had quite literally torn away from their families, just like what happened to him. Highlighted by the yellow halo around his hair as the sun shone in them. Right now, he had no room for anger inside - his main thought was ensuring that he would survive. And then, maybe grant a decent treatment for himself. Maybe get someone important to care for him.

Then he would have time and energies to be angry. Maybe.

So he kept quiet, as his tired legs took him to the throne’s room, and his face was still red from the embarrassment of having to walk in front of a hall full of people while bound and forced to get in.

A hand touched his back and he jolted straight, looking back to see who it was - a tall, muscular man. He looked young, strong, and had a severe look in his eyes. Like any wrong move would make his sword slide right out of his sheath.

“Look to the king,” the man said, with a colorless tone, Nagisa shivered and held his breath before turning his head around.

Sitting on the short throne (although it looked more like a pile of soft cushions) was another young man. The first thing Nagisa noticed about him was his soft features - everything about him looked mean, dangerous, and beautiful. Like a wild feline with an elegant build, the Sultan had all the looks of a ruthless, tricky predator, but Nagisa could not take his eyes off him. He had black hair and golden eyes, and that left an impression on Nagisa - after all, he too had an uncommon color to his eyes: magenta, completely different from the Sultan’s eye color, but similarly odd compared to everyone else’s.

But he did not have much time to look at his details, as the Sultan glanced over the line of captives and stopped his gaze on Nagisa out of all of them, but that did not surprise the boy.

His yellow hair, maybe a curse on him. He had not thought too much about them during his life in his village, where his features were quite normal, but here they were bound to catch people’s attention, and clearly the attention of the scariest person in the room.

“You,” the Sultan said, after confabulating with someone, “what’s your name?”

Nagisa’s breath caught in his lungs, and he swallowed while trembling, but then he took a long breath and forced himself to answer.

“My name is Nagisa… uh, Your Highness?”

“Your Majesty,” the man behind him said, with a tense voice.

“I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Nagisa added quickly, bowing his head.

He received no answer for a few seconds, and a low murmur spread among the other boys, but then the Sultan spoke again.

“Come here, Nagisa.”

Nagisa’s feet felt like they had turned into a ton of clay out of nowhere, and he swayed on the spot, but the man behind him put a hand on his shoulder, and steered him towards the throne, for which… Nagisa found himself being weirdly grateful for.

Up close, the Sultan looked even scarier, if possible, but also even more handsome. Nagisa could see more details of him, like the shape of his muscles under the skin left uncovered by the kaftan the man was wearing, the way his nails were perfectly trimmed and taken care of, but the most peculiar (and terrifying) detail were his sharp, pointy teeth. They looked like something straight out of a nightmare, and Nagisa’s face went pale as he saw them. The Sultan did not seem to pay any attention to that, though, as maybe he was used to it, but he moved closer instead, with his fingers brushing along Nagisa’s cheek and then going straight for his hair, touching them as his face lit up with a sort of childish curiosity.

“I’ve seen a lot of boys,” the Sultan whispered, and Nagisa bit his lip when the other hand slid down his naked chest. “But you might be the sweetest-looking out of all of them.”

Nagisa’s chest froze where those fingers touched him, and he did not realize it but his whole body was trembling - of course the Sultan noticed that immediately.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said in a somewhat harsh tone, but that only made the panic in Nagisa’s heart increase, so much that small tears gathered in his eyes and he shut them tight while a little sob burst out of his lips.

The hand on his shoulder rescued him again, squeezing softly on it, and as simple as that gesture was, it seemed to ground him again and make him regain control on his face, his breathing, the straightness of his legs.

“S-sorry,” he murmured, and brushed the back of his hand on his face to wipe his tears away, “Your Majesty…”

Finally he looked at the royal’s face again, and only spotted concern on it. Then resolution.

“Sousuke, take him to my rooms,” he said, looking over Nagisa’s shoulder, to the man standing behind him.

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” the guard called Sousuke replied, without a discernible emotion in his voice, and steered Nagisa away once again.

Nagisa was in a haze the whole way, and relied only on Sousuke’s guidance to walk the correct way, so much that he did not even notice the beautiful paintings along the walls with golden etchings, the clean walls almost shining against the sunlight, but came back to himself when finally the man spoke.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said, and Nagisa glanced over his shoulder to look at him. Away from that throne room and from the Sultan’s eyes, the man - Sousuke - seemed to have a completely different demeanor. His eyes looked less cold, his lips not as tight, his whole face and stance looked a lot more relaxed.

“I-I can’t help it,” Nagisa mumbled, but then blinked when Sousuke extracted a knife, and his eyes shot wide as he began trembling again. He had seen boys get gutted on the way here, without being able to hear why. As far as he knew, his life could be on the line any moment.

“Please-”

Sousuke shot a look at him, and then grabbed his wrists, cutting the ropes without a word.

Oh, right. The ropes. For a moment, and for no particular reason, Nagisa had all tensed up, but now he let out a deep sigh of relief.

“The Sultan wants you to take a bath,” Sousuke explained, without commenting on what just happened - for which Nagisa was grateful. He sheated his knife again, next to the way longer sword at his side.

“I thought he said… his rooms?” Nagisa asked, with a confused blink of his eyes.

“You are dirty,” Sousuke said, dry, and Nagisa looked at himself, all dusted up and with his clothes torn, several scratches and bruises all over his legs. “I can’t let you in the Sultan’s rooms while you look like this.”

That made sense. Nagisa nodded, and then looked around. They were standing in a wide, circular room filled with lightly-colored paintings portraying half-naked men and women in a oasis, bathing and eating with leisure and relaxation written all over their bodies and faces. The opposite of him.  

“The baths are there,” Sousuke added, pointing the way to a door covered with veils, and Nagisa started going there, but soon enough he realized the guard was going with him.

“What…? I can take a bath on my own,” Nagisa protested, with a frown, and Sousuke looked at him.

“You were picked by the Sultan to be his new concubine. I have orders to follow you and deliver you to him.”

Nagisa’s eyes went wide, and he tried to swallow a new knot in his throat.

“... Concubine?”

Sousuke’s eyes softened a little as he looked down at the Sultan’s shiny new toy.

“What did you think he picked you for?” He asked.

Nagisa hugged his own arms now, shivering, and looked around again. All those relaxed figures on the wall looked like they were in heaven, and they did not look like something he could ever be like again. Free.

“I don’t know,” he finally replied, and then turned to the chief guard again, with big pleading eyes.

“Please, don’t make me… don’t make me,” he whined, with his heart beating fast.

Sousuke clenched his teeth. He hated this. He hated having to look at the new boys and girls’ meltdowns, and then report to the king that everything was fine. He hated having to see them die inside, just for the Sultan’s pleasure.

“It will be alright,” he said, and ruffled the boy’s golden strands, something he, unfortunately, got too used to doing. “You will have food here. Water, and after your nights with the Sultan you’ll be able to do as you please.”

That was a very small consolation. Yes, the idea of food granted for him was good and not something he could spit on, but… he would have to earn his life with his body being used? And he would have to stay here, he would definitely not be able to see home again...

When he got in front of the big basin of warm water, the presence of Sousuke behind him became a pressing weigh, and he tensed up with ice cold blood now running in his veins, his heart thumping so loud maybe Sousuke was hearing it too, and at the same time his face and ears turned completely red.

“Could you… turn around until I’m in?”

Sousuke drew in a long sigh, and turned his head slightly the other way, but while the boy let his clothes fall and dipped in, he could not help picturing him anyway with the sound of the water moving. He really did look like something that could be delicious, once he’d cleaned up and the bath handler would clean his cuts and heal his chapped lips....

“I’m here.”

Talking about the devil...

Sousuke jumped a little with surprise at the voice echoing in the room, and turned around with an irritated frown while another man looked at him, with soft amusement in his eyes. Nagisa turned his head too, curious.

“Oh, there you are,” Sousuke said, with annoyance in his voice. Nagisa looked at the new person - slender, but still muscly, a bit like the boy himself. Except he was quite bigger (definitely not as big as Sousuke, though) and lean, with short black hair and especially beautiful, slightly unnerving blue eyes. For a moment, Nagisa thought he was a vision, or a god, but then he saw those eyes turn to him and concluded that it couldn’t be. A god would never once look at him, at least not in this life.

“Dry him up when he’s done,” Sousuke said, tilting his head towards Nagisa. “I need to take care of all the others.” And then he left, just like that.

Haruka kept silent until he was gone, and then he walked towards the short table, grabbing a sponge and soap before approaching the basin and just starting to rub the sponge on Nagisa’s shoulders, without a word. Nagisa tensed up, not really knowing what was customary to say or do here, but he sat there silently while the awkward silence only crackled a little with the water’s sounds and their breathing… until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you mute?” He could not help asking, glancing over his shoulder, and the other man looked in his eye, but did not have much of a reaction.

“No.”

“Oh!” Nagisa squeaked, and swallowed, blushing. “Sorry.”

The man behind him kept rubbing the dirt from him, with a very tiny smile playing on his lips.

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

That must have been another captive. He looked like one of the islanders, in the kingdom next to the continent, all built on bamboo houses and where everyone moved by boats. For the kingdom of Samezuka, conquering such a place must have been a joke, given how the islanders of Iwatobi were mostly fishers and artisans, living off the land and the sea and trading with other kingdoms and villages. All they’d needed to do was probably build enough boats.

“Who are you?” Nagisa asked, finally relaxing and letting the sponge rub his back.

“I’m someone like you.”

That confirmed Nagisa’s theory, and he sighed with understanding.

“What’s your name?” He asked again, and glanced over his shoulder. He received a long gaze, before the other boy took another smaller basin and carefully poured it over Nagisa’s head to wash his hair.

“Haruka,” he finally replied, and Nagisa smiled a little, finding that person weirdly soothing to be around. It was not his looks, nor his words. But his hands were light and gentle on his scalp, as the motions of his other hand rubbing the dirt from Nagisa’s skin.

Eventually Haruka pulled him from the water, and turned around right away, grabbed a towel and threw it over to Nagisa before beginning to empty and clean up the basin.

“Haruka,” Nagisa called with a thin voice. “Is the Sultan going to hurt me?”

The other didn’t look at him, and weirdly kept quiet for a long time before finally speaking again.

“If you do what he says you’ll be fine.”

There was clearly a lot Haruka was not going to say, and that made Nagisa’s nerves tense up again, but he didn’t ask for more answers.

“There’s your new clothes, over there,” Haruka added, pointing to a stool where light and smooth clothes were folded neatly. Nagisa hadn’t noticed them before, and didn’t know who had brought them, but he figured it was someone else serving at palace, that he hadn’t seen since he’d spent a lot of time with his eyes closed, listening to the water’s sounds.

After wearing them, he shivered not knowing how he looked, but they were completely different from what he was used to. It was a green, thin silky veil with golden strands embroidered elegantly all over the borders, long to his feet, draped over his shoulders and leaving his chest almost bare, with nothing but a light golden strip tied around his waist. And he had received no underwear, which was both embarrassing and uncomfortable, but he still took a few steps towards Haruka, with his cheeks flaming red.

“How do I look?” He asked, and Haruka looked him head to toe before walking closer and grabbing his shoulders.

“Stand up straight,” he said, pushing them back a little, and then looked at Nagisa’s body again. “The Sultan will like you.”

It was said without any particular inflection, but Nagisa could still sense something in Haruka’s voice, but he could not really understand what it was. It didn’t sound all that encouraging, but Nagisa figured that at this point there was no reason to linger on bad thoughts. It would be alright, he thought. He would have to get used to a new life, and once he’d get used he would not suffer as much anymore. He just needed to adapt - that was all he could do anyway.

Sousuke came back a while later, after Nagisa was done drying his hair up and after a pretty lady combed it and spread some drops of perfumed oil on his neck. As soon as Nagisa saw him a sensation of both relief and dread washed over him at the same time. Sousuke slowed down upon seeing him all cleaned up and dressed in a completely different way, with surprise lighting his face for a moment, but then it went back to the usual stern expression as he looked him up and down and nodded.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, getting behind him and pushing him gently towards the Sultan’s bedroom, both silent, but with Nagisa growing tenser and tenser by the second.

The bedroom was a big room with lots of empty space, on the other hand it was draped all over with silky tents of every color and gold seemed to be embroidered in every detail wherever Nagisa looked. It surely did fit the bill for a Sultan’s quarters, and despite the fear he could not help being in awe, looking at it from the outside.

But he still would not step in - he stared at the figure on the bed, barely hidden by a curtain. Sousuke looked down at Nagisa, whispering, “go on.”

He was still not the most reassuring person, but… Nagisa felt his face grow hotter and he hesitated rocking on his heels, before taking a deep breath and stepping in.

From the inside, the room looked even bigger, somehow. Along the wall he noticed two tables filled up with books and long rolls of paper written in small, elegant letters. The walls were painted with a shiny white and polished, decorated with soft curls, effigies and intricated lines sliding and meeting and forming perfect symmetries. And then, in front of him, was the big bed with fine silk curtains all around it. Nagisa figured at least three people could comfortably sleep on it, but at the moment he could only focus on the figure moving behind the thin veil.

“Come here,” the Sultan’s voice said from behind it, and Nagisa froze for a few moments before timidly taking a few steps forward, and pulled the veil to the side.

The Sultan was wearing simple clothes - or as simple as clothes could be, on a royal body - and was holding an enormous book in his hands.

“You… wish for me, Your Majesty?” Nagisa asked awkwardly, still on his feet in front of the bed. The Sultan glanced at him, and Nagisa saw a tired shadow under his otherwise beautiful eyes.

“Don’t call me that,” he replied, and patted a spot next to him, on the bed, inviting him to sit before looking back to the book. Nagisa fidgeted with the border of his kaftan, but eventually he crawled on the bed and quietly moved closer, until he sat exactly next to Rin’s hand, silently.

the Sultan looked at him again after a minute or two, and slid a tiny string of fabric in it before closing the book, and left it on a small table next to the bed, then turned around to look at Nagisa.

“You definitely look cleaner, now,” he said, with his eyes tired. “But you didn’t have to dress up. I’m too tired to do anything to you tonight.”

Those words came as a huge relief on Nagisa, but on his face nothing showed. He just nodded, and asked, “What am I doing here, then?”

the Sultan moved closer, and moved an arm around Nagisa’s body. He went tense again, but indeed nothing much happened. He’d expected to be corrected again, but it seemed the way he’d called the Sultan was acceptable. the Sultan just pushed him down on the bed, and Nagisa followed with fear and… a bit of curiosity.

“I just want to sleep with someone,” the Sultan finally explained, and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy’s frame, holding him and sighing. “I’m tired, but I can’t sleep alone.”

After the first few moments of doubt and confusion, Nagisa’s body ended up relaxing, even though the Sultan’s golden eyes were still looking at him, and he slid his hands up the royal’s arm. It seemed to be something correct, as the Sultan’s eyes drooped and he sighed, blinking slowly.

Nagisa barely knew this man. He had never slept with anyone aside from his parents and sisters, and now he was being held in the arms of another man, someone he only knew the name of and had all the power to end his life any moment. His muscles tensed up, and he was nervously waiting for something to happen to him, but in the end he realized he’d waited uselessly when the yellow eyes fell shut little by little, and a little bit after he heard some light snoring.

The fatigue caught up with him when his body began relaxing with relief, and for a moment he was able to look at the Sultan’s face, relaxed. He was able to observe his body, only covered by thin fabric and completely vulnerable. It puzzled him, and he wondered whether that was because the Sultan trusted him not to bear any weapon, or because guards were all around anyway and especially Nagisa had guessed how scary Sousuke specifically could be.

Right now, though, his thoughts were being pushed out. His eyes closed too, gradually, despite how this was an unfamiliar room, an unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar warm body next to his own.

He’d always been a boy who tried to look to the bright, hopeful side - so even though he had figured he would never see home again, at least he would get one more peaceful night.

The next few nights were spent similarly after days where Nagisa would explore the palace and walk around the city, meeting the people and quietly befriending the servants and guards until he knew he had no enemies there. He was told he could do as he pleased as long as he would spend the nights with the Sultan, but the Sultan would only pay attention to Nagisa when the time to sleep would come, and only to sleep. After a few nights, Nagisa began wondering whether this was what actually happened to all the concubines until, one night, the Sultan’s mouth pressed on his neck and his teeth began grazing on his skin, quite out of nowhere. The Sultan’s arms tightened up around him and he felt his breaths quicken against his nape. The urge to break free took over him, but the royal’s arms were clearly too strong, and he growled on his skin, “quiet.”

That one word chilled him to the bone, and his body stilled while the Sultan’s grip softened, then his teeth began nibbling his ear while he pressed his body against Nagisa’s. And Nagisa sensed a hardness against his back - he knew what it meant. So this was finally it - his eyes squeezed shut and he held his breath as the Sultan handled him not too gently, until he was lying on his back.

“Don’t hate me,” the Sultan said, while sliding his hand under the silk of Nagisa’s light, yellow kaftan, touching his skin and placing his lips against Nagisa’s neck until he found his pulse, then smiled against his skin.

Nagisa found himself unable to say anything, shivers kept running under his skin and at the same it seemed to become more and more sensitive to each touch gliding on its surface, his eyes shut tightly until colors popped behind his eyelids floating in a field of black.

And then the hand on his skin went from teasing to shifting down his body, it left shivers in its wake and he could feel, he could sense his stomach tighten, warming up to the contact until the tension focused between his legs - he opened his eyes, and saw a lump where the Sultan was touching him, softly, slowly. He looked at the Sultan, confused, and gained a sharp smile back.

“It’s your first time being touched, is it not?”

He bit down on his lip, red in the face, and covered his eyes in shame as he let out little squeals, but a shiver broke his laments when the Sultan’s hand lowered further, fondling him.

It was indeed the first time he felt anything like this, anything this intense - surely he had touched himself before, but… this was so much different. He was being touched in a way nobody else had, he was being watched in a state nobody had seen him in before, surely not the villagers back home that would always compliment him on being such a nice, good boy.

“Are you feeling good?” the Sultan asked again, brushing his fingers along Nagisa’s inner thigh, and moving away from his cock. A sharp whine of frustration almost snapped out of his lips, but Nagisa simply let out a crackling groan as his hands instinctively reached down to pull the hand back where it was, and finally his eyes turned, liquid, to the Sultan’s.

“Don’t stop, Your Majesty,” he whined, and received a smile in response.

“As you wish,” the other replied, with an oddly sweet smile. “I like it the most when my companions enjoy themselves.”

Kisses began raining on Nagisa’s skin and his shivers became hotter and hotter with each touch, until his body began heating up so much he was sweating and his mind emptied from any thought.

And then the older male rolled on top of him, robbing kisses out of him, pressing his body down on him and grinding his hips down until he began breathing hard, letting out hot moans as he ravaged the smaller body under his. He grasped on Nagisa’s blond curls and pulled on them, observing the dark yellow almost fade into a light brown, and he sighed with the pressure also building up inside of him.

“Mmmh, you’re pretty,” the Sultan hummed, as with each touch the heat within both bodies increased, and Nagisa’s hips began rolling against the body on him. “You are so pretty,” he added, “I think I’m going to eat you up.”

And right away, a sharp pain stabbed Nagisa’s neck - before he could realize what was happening, his body froze completely and he seemed to be completely restrained every though, to be fair, there were no chains or ropes on him. And yet everything about his body began aching, his blood turned into fire and at the same time all his lust multiplied to the point where he began wailing with the pressure and need for release, disregarding how quickly his body was turning into a weak slab of meat, how fast his heart was starting to throb. The Sultan smiled while sucking his blood, and began sliding his hand around Nagisa’s cock until he held all that tension in his fist, and then he let it explode in his hand as Nagisa yelled out with a pleasure he’d never even imagined he could experience. His blood seemed to turn into fire, and a fleeting sense of euphoria washed through him before he was left alone shaking and whining for a few moments.

And then the Sultan came back, looking at him, and through the daze Nagisa noticed how his eyes had turned from a bright yellow to a quieter shade of brown, almost. The Sultan began pressing a clean piece of cloth on his neck, and smiled down at him with a pleased hum, licking his lips.

“This is what you’re here for,” he finally chirped, in delight. “Your blood might be the best I’ve ever tasted. It’s delicious.”

Nagisa’s eyes drooped, with a sense of tiredness dawning on him all of a sudden, and with each moment the need to sleep became stronger.

“I’m going to keep you for a while, my love,” the Sultan whispered, before beginning to sing a lullaby, taking care of his new prey until he saw him doze off.