Chapter Text
“You know, with the expression you’re wearing, one would think I’d taken you to get tortured.”
“Oh, so you’re telling me that isn’t what this is?” Namjoon said, raising a brow at his best friend. The auctioneer assigned to them gestured for them to follow him, so Namjoon fell into step behind him down a long lit corridor, though all he wanted was to turn on his heels and run away screaming. Or maybe not screaming, but complaining - loudly and rudely - in his head. Jackson just rolled his eyes at him, his features heightened by the shifting artificial light from the screen-walls. He’d long grown immune to Namjoon’s grumbling, which troubled Namjoon greatly. He’d have to find a more efficient way to get him off his case soon.
“Having a quick look around won’t kill you.” Jackson said, swinging an arm around Namjoon’s shoulder and sending him a lewd grin, “hell you might even find something you like.”
He pointed to a picture of a pretty tiger hybrid flashing by on the screen next to them.
Namjoon pushed him off much to Jackson’s delight. The man, though dressed like the rich and powerful CEO that he was, refused to act as anything but a mischievous twenty-something-year-old.
“Why am I still friends with you?” Namjoon wondered, ignoring the pictures mixed in with the colorful lightning on the screen-walls.
God, he already hated this place.
In front of them, their personal auctioneer swiped his key-card, and two rounded glass doors slid open with a breath of cooled air bringing with it the sound of low chatter and old classical music.
“Because I’m one of the few people who doesn't care about your money or your status,” Jackson said matter-of-factly. He clasped hold around Namjoon’s shoulders once again pulling him with him as he walked through the doors and into the enormous auction hall, “and no one else is willing to put up with your moody ass.”
He winked at Namjoon who rolled his eyes at him, but he didn’t bother trying to dispute him. Namjoon let his eyes sweep across the amble space as Jackson dragged him down the glass staircase. It seemed like anyone with even an ounce of power to their name and their sycophants were here, peacocking about flaunting their own inflated idea of self-worth, as they strutted around between the slaves up for sale.
God, how he abhorred the elite.
Which considering his own elite status was a slight conundrum.
Crowds were milling about studying the holographic screens above the seated slaves, discussing their traits and qualifications as they sipped on their alcoholic drinks. The crowds gathered around certain chairs made it easy to see which slaves were the crowd-favorites.
Maybe he should buy all of their favorites right in front of their noses, Namjoon mused feeling petty.
“I can see you plotting something, Joon.” Jackson said the corner of his lips stretched into a smirk, “let’s at least try to play nice with all the rich, powerful people tonight, huh?”
“Oh, Jackson, don’t you know,” Namjoon chuckled, patting his friend on the back, “I always play nice.”
Jackson snorted “that my friend is the grossest lie you’ve ever told me.”
Namjoon just shrugged a devilish grin on his face.
“Now, please, go. Peruse. And for the love of all that is holy, choose a consort. I’m tired of all the rumors about you sticking to me because I bother to be your friend.”
“Your concern is heartwarming, Jackson, really I’m touched.”
“Shut up, and go find a consort. You know how the elite gossip and a man of your position should own at least two consorts to be accepted by these vultures. So please, for once, just stop being stubborn and actually consider the slaves available before you run off?”
“Fine, I’ll choose one. ONE! You hear me?”
“That’s my boy.”
Jackson ruffled up his hair and Namjoon pushed him away with an indignant huff, then he straightened out a few crinkles in his suit before he begrudgingly stepped forward into the crowd letting his eyes flutter across colorful holographic screens and the slaves below them. Jackson fell into step on his left, their auctioneer hovering a few steps behind them, but Namjoon paid them no mind. He walked down the empty spaces between the slaves not bothering to acknowledge the few people who dared approach him. He had no interest in any of their schemes.
Namjoon sighed as he took in the shifting screens. He never understood the need to make such a spectacle out of buying slaves. He wasn't opposed to owning slaves, not in the slightest, he believed in the symbiotic relationship of it. Besides, before the world had initiated the slave system, people had still been slaves to the system just living under the illusion of freedom. At least now they could be honest about it.
He wasn't naive. He knew there were slaves out there who were treated horribly, but that was a symptom of the ugliness of humanity, not the system of slaves. At least with slaves they were registered and depending on their registered category, their masters were required to provide certain living standards and general rights.
He knew a lot of the elite thought his reluctance to acquire a consort stemmed from a dislike of the slave system. That was far from the case. Namjoon didn't see the idea of owning slaves as any worse than a government that kept a whole nation enslaved on wages so low you'd be unable to get by on your own. So really it was just a reflection of the state of the world. It would always be unfair and someone would always draw the shorter end of the stick. No matter the system in place.
No, his reluctance came from the elite and their perverse obsession with out-staging each other and acquiring more slaves than they knew what to do with just to show off in the eyes of the powerful.
Namjoon scuffed.
There was nothing powerful about those peacocking suit-clad monkeys strutting about spending money they never had to work hard to earn.
He had no patience for any of their kind and not acquiring a consort was his way of rebelling. Of refusing to fit in and play their ridiculous games. Owning a consort was about showing off, flaunting how much money you could afford to waste on decadency.
He saw no point in it.
He didn't need their validation.
He'd worked to be on top and he needed no one else to tell him his worth.
Besides he'd never seen a slave he wanted to take as a consort. He didn't just want to acquire a doll to show off. He wanted it to be about more than that.
Namjoon pushed through a rather thick crowd, bits and pieces of whispered conversations brushing against his ears.
“...just look at those lips…”
“...if only I had the money…
“...look so good on his knees…”
Namjoon brows furrowed at the snippets he picked up, and he pushed past the last ring of excited buyers, stopping right below the plateau of the displayed slave that had caused such enthusiastic responses.
What he saw made him stop dead in his tracks, eyes widening in wonder and mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Chained to the display chair on the plateau in front of him sat the most beautiful boy, no, angel. The most ethereal angel Namjoon had ever seen. Wearing white from head to toe, he looked too clean and innocent for a place like this. Soft silver hair framed fearful eyes that darted across the starving masses eyeing him like a piece of meat, tears flowing down full cheeks, and flush pillow lips trembling from stifled cries.
Slightly droopy and puffy silver eyes blown wide in fear and horror, flickered up to meet his, and Namjoon’s heart gave a painful lunge. Almost instinctively his body surged forward, scaling the steps up the plateau with easy, deaf to the audible gasp and scandalized whispers filling the air around him. He sank to his knees in front of the angelic being, who stared at him with eyes filled with apprehension and unbridled fear.
Namjoon released a gentle hum then lifted his hand. When the boy flinched back, he instantly paused, hand hovering in the air.
“I won’t hurt you.” He whispered, watching as those silver eyes flashed with a million thoughts at once. Namjoon let his hand inch forward, and when the boy kept still, he cupped his face gently, thumbing away the tears that still stained his fair skin.
“You shouldn’t be in a place like this, angel.” Namjoon rasped, a soft smile spreading on his face. “Why are you here?”
A soft sniffle, then in a voice soothing like a gentle forest stream, the boy stammered, “my dad, he…” a hiccuping sob ran through him, and Namjoon shushed him gently, “...his debts, he couldn’t pay them, so…” Another sob ran through the boy, and he fell into silent cries unable to continue.
“Shh, angel, it’s alright. It’s going to be alright. I’ll make it alright.”
The boy looked at him with those mesmerizing silver eyes, a glimpse of hope playing in their depths.
“I won’t ever hurt you, and I’ll never force you. You have my word.”
The boy's eyes went impossible wide, and he stared at him in disbelief, his eyes running across his features, no doubts looking for signs of deceit. When he found none, Namjoon continued.
“Let me take you away from here, angel?”
A fresh slew of tears ran down the boy’s cheeks, and as he gave the faintest of nods, Namjoon straightened searching for his auctioneer. The man stood next to him shifting his weight from one foot to the other, clutching his digital board between fingers turned white from the force.
“My Lord please,” the man stammered, “I’ll have to ask you not to touch the merchandise.”
Namjoon narrowed his eyes at the man as he pushed himself onto his feet.
“And why shouldn’t I, he belongs to me!”
Loud gasps and sounds of protest reached him from the assembled crowd, but Namjoon paid them no mind, staring down the increasingly pale auctioneer.
“My lord, this slave ‘Jimin’ is in very high demand.” The man rambled, “not only is he of exceptional beauty, but he is a virgin and renowned as a skillful and graceful dancer.”
“And your point?”
“I… I can’t just sell him, not even to you my Lord, you’ll have to outbid the oth-”
“Name your price.” Namjoon cut him off, crossing his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at the auctioneer.
“My Lord, I-”
“What is the buy-out price?”
The auctioneer almost dropped his board between his shaking fingers as he scrambled to look up the needed information. A soft whine next to him, made him turn towards his angel, his Jimin, and he smiled at him calmly and reassuringly.
“Don’t worry.” He whispered, reaching down and running his fingers through his hair, trying to soothe the fear, worry, and apprehension still so visible on his angel's face.
“Two hundred million my lord,” the auctioneer's voice reached him. Namjoon saw how Jimin’s eyes widened, despair coloring his features. Namjoon understood, were he a normal man, that number would be dizzying. Luckily, nothing about Namjoon could be said to be normal.
He winked at Jimin.
“Three hundred,” Namjoon said, still looking at Jimin chuckling gently at the awestruck look that shifted across his face.
“My... My lord?” The auctioneer stammered.
“I’ll pay three hundred million if you free him from this chair immediately.”
The auctioneer’s eyes widened and an audible gasp ran through the crowd.
“I… I understand my Lord. Of course. What category should we register your slave in?”
“Consort.”
Excited whispers broke out around them, and Namjoon fought his impulse to roll his eyes. Well, at least this should give the gossiping elite enough fodder to stop making up new rumors about him for a short while.
“Understood my Lord.” The auctioneer let his fingers fly across the screen of his board, then seconds later, a red banner appeared over Jimin’s head, the word ‘sold’ written in bold white letters. The man made a strange gesture with his right hand, and two guards appeared next to Jimin, and with a swipe of a key-card, the chains dropped freeing the flabbergasted boy.
They grabbed hold of his biceps pulling him to his feet. Jimin winced when he put weight back onto his legs, and Namjoon narrowed his eyes at the guards who immediately bowed their heads in apology.
Namjoon put a hand against Jimin's soft cheek, sending him a tender smile, “go with them, little angel. I’ll see you later.”
Jimin stared at him in silent wonder, his mouth opening and closing several times, but no sound left him. Namjoon chuckled, running his thumb across Jimin’s cheekbone one last time, before he stepped back, and with a flick of his head motioned for the guards to escort Jimin to the preparation area.
The guards gently pulled the boy with them, and just as they were about to guide him off the plateau, Jimin paused then turned to Namjoon.
“Tha- thank you, Master,” The boy said, his voice wet and shaking, as he dropped into a deep bow. Namjoon wanted to pull him into a tight hug and reassure him that he had nothing to thank him for, but he refrained. He remained in the same spot sending Jimin a gentle smile when he straightened, then followed him with his eyes, as the guards walked him out of the room.
“So,” a voice drawled to his left, and Namjoon barely kept himself from jumping and letting out a highly undignified shriek. “That wasn’t so hard now was it?”
“Shut up, Jackson!” Namjoon growled at his friend who broke into loud cackles next to him.
“No, but I mean, you couldn’t just go around and bid on a couple of slaves here and there, you know, like the rest of us normal people. No no, that would be too boring for THE Kim Namjoon, wouldn’t it?”
Namjoon considered if it was worth it to knock Jackson out just to get him to shut up, but he knew his friend would hold it over him for the next several years, so he quickly pushed the thought aside, suffering in silence as Jackson went on.
“No, you had to not only match the insane buy-out price that no ever, EVER, chose to pay, but you had to add to it, just to make sure that you precious little, what was it, Angel?” Jackson snorted and Namjoon rolled his eyes, “that you little angel didn’t have to sit a second longer in that chair. Such a Prince Charming.”
"You wanted me to choose a consort. And I did. So." Namjoon huffed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers with a petulant pout on his face. He cast a quick glance at the holo screen playing above Jimin’s now empty chair. All his details stod listed, weight, height, preference. Nothing was kept private. Namjoon understood from a business standpoint, but he still disliked putting another human being's whole life on display like that.
A video of Jimin dancing started playing. He was in a white outfit moving across the stage a flowing white fabric billowing around him, movement graceful like a gazelle.
Angel, Namjoon marveled, he'd really gotten an angel as his consort.
"Well," Jackson said, "now that you've ripped the proverbial bandage off, want to go explore a bit more?"
He wiggled his eyebrows at him, his eyes shining with mischief. Namjoon rolled his eyes - he feared they'd get permanently stuck in the back of his head one of these days, but he nevertheless agreed.
Even though he doubted that he'd find anyone else he'd want the same way he'd wanted Jimin, he still let his eyes flutter across the displays around him as he and Jackson made it further into the auction hall.
Wait.
Namjoon did a full stop, digging his heels in, his head whipping to the side, his eyes settling on the majestic creature that had caught his attention.
His eyes widened as he took in the cat hybrid, who sat poised on his chair like it was a throne, looking regal and not at all like a slave chained to an auction chair. His shiny black ears flicked atop his head, and dark slanted eyes glared daggers at any buyer who dared venture near him as if daring them to even think of buying him.
Namjoon glanced to the holo screen.
Yoongi, bastard son of a noble, virgin, suitable for the scribe category.
Interesting.
Namjoon wanted him. He wanted him with an intensity that surprised him. He turned and stalked towards the proud feline. When he noticed his approach Yoongi turned his eyes to him, glaring and scowling at him.
But Namjoon saw it, the slight fear playing in his eyes behind all the bravado.
But he refused to back down, holding his head high and glaring down his nose at him. Inexplicable desire bubbled into life within Namjoon to make this proud creature his. To make him submit to him and only him.
Yoongi followed his every move with attentive eyes, as he walked over until he came to a stop right in front of the plateau the cat was displayed on. Namjoon looked Yoongi dead in the eyes raising a brow at him in a challenge as he said, "he's mine."
Yoongi's eyes widened then his upper lip pulled back in a sneer and he growled, his ears pulling back. A smirk made its way onto Namjoon’s face, as he kept eye contact with the hybrid.
"The buy-out price again, my lord?" his attendant said next to him.
"And whatever is needed on top of it to have him out of his chair immediately."
"Of course, my lord. Which category should I note him as?"
Namjoon sent Yoongi a broad smile as he stated, "consort."
Yoongi's eyes widened in surprise and fear started playing in his eyes as his ears and tail flicked in agitation. Namjoon understood. He'd no doubt thought he'd be bought into the scribe category.
"As you wish, my lord."
Just as with Jimin, a red banner appeared above Yoongi’s head, and two guards showed up to free him from his chair. As the chains fell from him, Yoongi pulled his arms free of the guards’ grip, and sending a last narrowed glare in Namjoon’s direction a fearsome growl vibrating in he depths of his chest, he turned on his heel, walking towards the back area with his head held high.
With a low chuckle, Namjoon turned his eyes away only to spot Jackson who was looking at him with a shit-eating grin.
"And here I thought you didn't even want a single consort."
"Shut up," Namjoon huffed. But even he had to admit that he was surprised. He didn't know what came over him, just that when he saw Yoongi, saw that proud creature sitting there, the idea of making the regal hybrid chose to submit to him, without breaking his spirit, were making Namjoon’s insides boil.
But it did leave him intrigued. What other interesting slaves would he be able to find here?
Deciding that he might as well quell his own curiosity, he truly started to explore. He weaved in and out of the display chairs getting farther and farther away from the entrance. There were fewer people here, and the slaves on display were either of the entertainment class or suspected to sell into that class.
He still hadn't reached the far end though, so most likely the last area where for household slaves. He figured a high-class establishment like this would not display labor or escort slaves.
A video caught his attention. Two hybrids, a dog and a bunny were doing the most impressive acrobatics and synchronized dance moves. He stared at the video completely entranced. The pomeranian's soft light brown curls shifted as he moved, and the bunny's long soft white ears contrasted beautifully against his black hair.
Namjoon couldn't help himself from moving closer to the two hybrids. They sat with their shoulders hunched, keeping their eyes on the floor, not even acknowledging him as he approached.
He stopped in front of the dog hybrid, his soft ears droopy and sad.
Namjoon looked up at the screen above him.
Hoseok, entertainer, branded.
Branded?
"Lift your head Hoseok, let me see you."
The boy’s shoulders tightened, and for a couple of seconds, nothing happened. Then reluctantly he lifted his head and a breathless gasp left Namjoon.
The boy was gorgeous. Warm soft light brown eyes, high full cheekbones, and a soft heart-shaped mouth. That wasn't what made Namjoon gasp. No, what shocked him was the clear black mark stretching from the top of the right side of his forehead down to his jaw.
A branded thief.
Next to Hoseok, the bunny had lifted his head as well, a similar mark stretching down the left side of his face. Not that it took away from the boy’s beauty.
Namjoon glanced up.
Jungkook.
Two branded beauties.
He'd never expected to find marked thieves at a high-scale auction house like this, but then again from what he'd seen, they were good. Really good.
Out the corner of his eyes, he noticed Hoseok watching him, studying him with huge worried eyes. Namjoon turned his attention back on the pretty pup.
"What did you do to get this, little pup?" Namjoon ran the tip of his pointy finger gently down Hoseok's face following the stark marking against his honeyed skin.
"I…" Hoseok swallowed and looked down, his shoulders hunched in again.
"We stole medicine."
Namjoon turned to Jungkook. The bunny was watching him with wide eyes, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.
"Why?"
"The troupe leader, he–"
"Our friend got sick." Hoseok raised his voice, cutting Jungkook off.
"Your friend?" Namjoon turned his attention back on the pup who nodded his head.
"Yes Lord, Ali, she is a cat hybrid. She used to be part of our troupe. But then she got sick." Pain flickered past his eyes. "Really sick."
Jungkook sniffled.
"The troupe leader wouldn't pay for medicine, even though we said he wouldn't have to pay us until the medicine was paid off. So we stole it." Hoseok hung his head, "we knew we would get caught, but we couldn't let Ali die."
Hoseok looked up, tears rimming his eyes, "we didn't get to say goodbye. We don't even know if she got cured."
Namjoon studied him for a second, "so you got branded for stealing medicine to save your friend’s life?"
Hoseok nodded.
"And then sold into slavery to make up for the cost of the stolen meds?"
Again Hoseok nodded.
Namjoon let his eyes flicker across the two hybrid's features, and God Namjoon wanted them.
There was no denying the attraction he felt for the golden-haired puppy and the doe-eyed bunny. On top of that the thought of showing them off at the social gatherings of the elites wearing their thief brands proudly on their cheeks, made him smile.
God, the scandal it would be.
He noticed Hoseok watching him, and turned his attention back to him from where it had been fixed on the mark on Jungkooks face.
"My lord," the pup said eyes wide and pleading, "if… if you are interested in Jungkook I beg you, please, please don't separate us."
Namjoon’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't even considered buying only one of them. He wanted Hoseok just as much as he wanted Jungkook.
Hoseok sniffed, "I… I know I'm not particularly beautiful, my lord, and I know I have next to no value with this brand on my face."
He looked into Namjoon’s eyes, tears slowly trailing down his cheeks, and his voice breaking as he kept going, "but please, my lord, if you let me stay with Jungkook, I'll be so so good for you."
Jungkook watched his friend speak with wide glassy eyes, tears of his own starting to fall.
"I'll… I'll never cause trouble, I'll work tirelessly to please you, and the two of us together are some of the best entertainers out there."
Namjoon was flabbergasted. He wanted to reach out and remove the tears flowing down Hoseok's cheeks, but when he didn't answer him immediately Hoseok continued.
"Please, my lord. He…he's all I have left." Hoseok's voice broke on a sob and he hung his head, his shoulders shaking with his silent cries.
Jungkook was full-on crying now and a softly murmured, "Hoseokie-hyung," escaped him.
Namjoon considered the two of them for a second, the heartbreaking desperation and love shining in their eyes, the loyalty they displayed.
"I'll take the two of them," he finally said a soft smile on his face as he noticed the disbelief on their faces, a smile that only broadened as their faces morphed into happy gratitude.
Through his tears, Hoseok mumbled, "thank you, my lor… Master, thank you Master, thank you so so much."
Namjoon shushed him gently thumping away at his tears, then did the same for Jungkook.
"Should I put them down as entertainers, my lord?" His attendant asked.
Namjoon considered the two of them with a half-smile.
Oh, he was going to start so many rumors.
How marvelous.
"No," Namjoon said with a shake of his head, watching as the two hybrids’ eyes widened with worry and uncertainty. He sent them a reassuring smile, then completely mindless of the crowd around him, he added, "put them down as consorts."
An audible gasp went through the crowd, and Namjoon couldn’t keep a small smirk from showing. The elite would be gossiping about this for days. Both Hoseok’s and Jungkook’s jaws dropped, their expressions showing complete shock.
Namjoon smiled reassuringly at them.
“But my lord,” the attendant protested, “their marks-”
“Are marks of loyalty.” Namjoon interrupted him, letting his voice carry as he rounded on the attendant, “and of love and sacrifice for a friend. In my eyes, they are badges of honor.”
He turned his gaze to Jungkook and Hoseok, watching as their eyes filled with wonder and tears a slight air of disbelief still hanging in the air around them.
“Ve- Very well my lord,” the attendant sighed as he tapped away on the digital clipboard.
“Ma… Master...you…” Hoseok croaked, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.
Namjoon let a gentle smile stretch his lips as he crouched down next to Hoseok, placing a tender hand against his marked cheek, running his thumb softly against his beautiful high cheekbone.
“Don’t sell yourself short pup,” he murmured, “you are plenty beautiful.”
A gorgeous blush crept across Hoseok’s cheeks, just as the chain sprung loose from his wrist and ankles. As the hybrids got helped on their feet by the guards, Namjoon stood, sending them both a warm smile as they were guided down from the platform.
As they were taken away, Jungkook suddenly twisted in his handler’s grip turning towards Namjoon and falling into a deep bow, a loud “thank you, Master,” escaping from him as he straightened, a beautiful buck-toothed smile lighting up his face. Namjoon couldn’t help an endeared smile from emerging as he gently waved him off.
A loud sigh next to him alerted him to Jackson’s presence. “You just had to go and cause a huge scandal didn’t you?”
“But of course,” Namjoon said with a crooked grin, “someone has to give the elite something to gossip about. Otherwise, how would they possibly keep themselves entertained?”
“You’re impossible.” Jackson huffed, “choosing two thieves as consorts just to piss on the elites.”
“Well,” Namjoon shrugged, “not just to piss on them. I actually wanted them.”
“Would you look at that,” Jackson hummed, “you might not be completely hopeless after all.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“Nah, you’d miss me. Anyway, come with me, there’s a slave who’d be perfect for you.” Jackson’s eyes shimmered with giddy excitement, and Namjoon rolled his eyes at him, but never-the-less allowed his friend to drag him further into the labyrinth of displayed slaves.