“Is this your daddy?” he asked, gazing down into the old photograph.

“Yeah, it’s my dad,” Mingi said with a nod. “He teaches at Zurich University. Korean language and cultural studies.”

“He’s handsome, as all daddies are.” Yunho rubbed his thumb over the glass.

Though Mingi couldn’t see where he was touching, he had a feeling he had just stroked his thumb over the spot where his dad’s face was. “And your mummy? Where’s she?”

“… Don’t know her, she left when I was a baby.”

At this, Yunho lifted his gaze to look over at him. His eyes were wide, and they shifted from side to side as he tried to process this unexpected information. It took him a few seconds to think of something suitable to say.

“Oh, how dreadful. I’m terribly sorry. You must miss her.”

“Hard to miss someone you have no memories of,” Mingi replied with a shrug. “Wherever she is, I hope she’s happy. God knows my dad is far from it.”

“Daddy is like that too,” Yunho remarked, his thumb once more stroking over the glass. “So melancholic. I can see the life draining from his eyes every time I look into them. All because of me. Have you met him?”

Mingi nodded and explained, “Yeah, but only on video calls. I’ve never met him in person.”

“Meeting my daddy is like meeting God,” Yunho said in the softest whisper. “Big, powerful, filled with wrath which he demonstrates more than his apparent boundless love. I hope you never meet him. He’s … frightening.”

Mingi furrowed his brow and asked, “Frightening how?”

Yunho turned back to the photograph. His hands weren’t quite steady as he stared down at it.

“Does your daddy hit you too?” he asked in that same whisper.

Oh.

Though Yunho was still smiling, his tone was eerily flat when he spoke. “Yes, it sounds … quite beautiful, doesn’t it? To marry a handsome man. Bring him into your home. Make love to him for the first time. Let him ----- you ---- and take your --------- on the soft sheets. Make you scream his name so that everyone hears how much he loves you.”

“Yunho?”

“Yes?”

“We’ve talked about this, remember? What’s appropriate to say to me, and what you should keep to yourself.”

“… I’m sorry, I just think you’re so handsome. I get flustered and say the wrong things.”

“I know, and I’m flattered,” Mingi said, his tone soft and slow. “I think it’s sweet, but you need to be careful. You can’t say things like that around anyone else. I could get in trouble with your parents if they find out about … the things we’ve done in the stables. So please, try and keep the fantasies to yourself.”

“It’s just us,” Yunho pointed out, slowly lowering his hands from his cheeks. “No one has to know. I won’t tell a soul. Not even Roméo, and I tell him everything.”

Mingi sighed and reached up to get his glasses in hand. This allowed him to pinch the bridge of his nose. There was a twinge starting to settle there, which always appeared whenever Yunho started to get on his nerves. After a soothing pinch and rub, he replaced his glasses.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, his tone filled with resignation. “Just us.”

Yunho hummed in delight because he was so happy to have gotten his way.

He was my dreamscape
I never wanted to wake from
My heatwave dressed
In gold chains, flaming hot tattoos, and
Bold macho cologne

I was drenched deep
In explosive love
With his **** *** splashiness
His head-turning, heart-stopping drip
His can’t-even-breath heat

He was a majestic realm
Of flexxxy finesse
I reveled in his extraordinarily
Heavenly masculinity
Infectious, delectable, and treasurable

He was black boy magic
That melted my defenses
My dreadhead delight
My thirst-trap tempting treasure
My smooth *** operator

He smelled like a million-dollar home
His badass boss cologne
Lingered all over my skin
Streamed through my thoughts
Made me never want to wash it off

He held my heart
Had me lip-locked to his
Crash-hot flawless marvelousness
Had me flying sky-high
Gangsta-glued, swagger-stunned
Boy-blitzed off his glistening, sizzling sauce

♱

“You should name the boardings.”

The suggestion dragged Mingi out of his musings. He came around with a hard blink and a soft snort. “I’m sorry?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting enough to lightly crease his forehead.

“What did you say, love?”

“A name, you should give the boardings a name,” Yunho repeated, talking in a slow and steady rhythm as if Mingi was a child. “The larger of the stables is called le Nid des Hirondelles, because–”

“Because the swallows like to nest there,” Mingi finished with a slow nod.

Mingi was aware. He had heard the stable being referred to by this name by Jean-Luc, the head groundskeeper. He was also familiar with the swallows, who liked to nest in the eaves during the spring. They kept away the annoying bugs and spiders, so he was happy to tolerate them.

However, he just thought of it as ‘the stables’ because he had no need to specify mostof the time. Should he need to talk to Seonghwa about one, he would refer to it by the name of whatever mare first came to mind. Seonghwa knew where they were all housed, so he was able to figure out where to go with ease.

At this, Yunho perked up. He stuck his chest out and squared his shoulders, like he always did when he was feeling accomplished and proud. It seemed he liked how he knew such little details about the estate. Mingi didn’t know all that much, but he had learned some things from his years working alongside Seonghwa and Adrien.

“I like to call it les Hirondelles for short. The smaller stable hasn’t been given an official name yet. It’s a more recent addition, and it does take time for a name to settle. I’m still thinking of a suitable choice. As for your boardings…” Yunho paused to think it over, his gaze once more skipping over the interior of the bungalow. “Uh, les Pignons?”

Mingi considered it before shaking his head. “Too obvious. It should have more character, don’t you think?”

After a moment, Yunho’s lips lifted in a pleased smile which showed his teeth.

"La Grange du Cheval?”

Mingi felt his lips curling into a smile too. He didn’t try to hide it by turning away or dropping his head. The Master had earned the right to see it for his wit. “I like that one,” he said, his voice soft. “I might have to steal it from you.”

“You can have it. It’s my gift to you.”

“Alright, thank you. Does your private suite have a name?”

Yunho nodded. “It does, le Coquelicot Bleu. There are little poppies in the stained-glass windows in the parlour. Blue, not red. Have you seen blue poppies before?”

“Yeah, they’re grown in the manor garden. Most of them are blue, but some sprout up yellow and orange.” Mingi knew it was probably a bad idea to suggest it, but he decided to go for it.

“You’ll have to invite me to your suite some time. I’ve never seen the poppies in the windows. I think I’d like to see them.”

“Oh, I would like that very much!” the Master gushed, as he rocked back onto the slight heels of his loafers. “I’ve so many nice things to show you! Um, I’ve plenty of books and maps. Oh, and antique equestrian tools! I’m certain you’ll know how to use them all. You could give me a demonstration. Not on the mares, of course. We wouldn’t want to risk hurting one. You could use me.”

The suggestion was ripe with implication.

Mingi felt a prickling heat spreading up from his neck. It made his cheeks and ears throb, not unlike the soft throbs starting to radiate out from his lower belly.

He hoped the gentle glow from the lamps didn’t expose his flush to the boy. He didn’t want him to know how uncomfortable he was making him.

“I’m a good student,” the Master finished, his voice breathier than it had been moments ago. “And I think you would make the perfect teacher. You’re firm, much firmer than Seonghwa. Though I always try to be a good boy, sometimes I get carried away. I need a firm hand to keep me in line. Punish me when I’m misbehaving. Praise me when I’m being good. You
would be just perfect, I think.”