Acts of Contrition (16a/20)

[butterflyweb]

Their fortress was meant as a prison, but it's poorly placed to act as headquarters for the whole rebel movement. He can see its security liabilities, it's faulty defense perimeter. At least there are no chances of an air-strike, he thinks, drawing comfort only to find it replaced by worry. Focused on his work, Yunho remains alert. The rebels around him still make him uneasy, and he suspects the reverse holds true. Standing up, he folds the plan of the facility and pushes it to the edge of his makeshift desk. A shadow in the doorway looms over it menacingly. It's not unexpected.

"What do you want?"

"I need a reason to be in my own base?" Yoochun returns in annoyance, moving to stand in front of Yunho, resting his palms on the desk. "What's that?"

"I thought you'd know," Yunho retorts sharply, without missing a beat. "Plans to the entire facility," he adds, "I'm looking for faults that can be exploited."

"Goddamit, Jaejoong," Yoochun mutters, trying not let paranoia spark at the explanation. Ex-Guard, he reminds himself. Just like Changmin. Just like Junsu.

"Our base consists of abandoned freighters and junked cruisers," he says, glancing up at the other man. "I'm sure there are faults. But we've survived well enough against your lot." A tilt of the head. "If I remember correctly, we sent you running for the hills."

"I also came back," Yunho states evenly, even if there's been no question and thus no reason to indulge in this game. Cracking his knuckles absently, he looks from the map to the other man's face. "You've got anti-aircraft, but you've got little to no ground force. Didn't think your lot was so hell-bent on hiding like rats."

Raising his chin, prideful and stubborn, Yoochun meets his eyes. "When thieves and murderers drive you from your home, sometimes hiding's all you have left." He drops his gaze to the plans, seething quietly, hands unconsciously curling into fists.

An eyebrow arches in question, but Yunho doesn't press. It's not his place or his business. He doesn't need to be told that there are monsters in the world."You can't hide forever, kid, " he suggests instead, standing up. Clichés and Yoochun make him uneasy, like he's about to snap.

Yoochun straightens, tension lining his shoulders, bristling at being called a kid. Like he's any less of a leader than this man, like he hasn't seen his share of fighting and death and blood. Like he hasn't seen more. This pampered, spoiled, arrogant man.

Yunho stands a few inches taller than him, but it doesn't raise him any in Yoochun's esteem, not as he steps closer, glaring and ready for a fight.

"You think I'm afraid of you?"

"I think you think you're not," answers Yunho, making no effort to to hold back his contempt, his fascination. "I don't care if you suffer a summary execution when the Guards figure out a way into your base. And they will. All your posing and posturing won't help you then."

"You self-righteous bastard," Yoochun spits, pushing him back into the door. "Posturing? Come on, you fuck. Trying something with me and we'll see who's posturing."

The shove is a testament to the other man's strength, but Yunho has too much pride to take it under advisement. Instead, he pushes right back, temper flaring as if he's back at the Academy.

"What are you trying to prove?" he snaps, advancing until he's well within the rebel's personal space. "If I kick your ass, then I'm treacherous scum. If I don't, then I'm a self-righteous bastard..." Breath labored, he knows he's moving perilously close, but he can't bring himself to lift his fist.

Another shove snaps Yunho's last measure of restraint. Taking a hold of the other man's arms, he sends him flying into the wall, pining him there with his body.

"I'm not playing your game, you little prick." Irrational and overwhelming, he feels his own strength, his own desire to hurt. It can't be grounded in just a few minutes' dispute.

Yoochun takes in a ragged breath, the wall at his back and Yunho close, too close, in front of him. He grabs the other man's dog tags with one hand, pulling him closer until he's almost speaking against his lips.

"This isn't a fucking game."

"Then what is it?" Yunho growls, swallowing against the tightening line around his neck. In response to the inherent threat, he grabs Yoochun by the throat, not tightening his grip, but just holding him there. "What do you want from me?"

Their bodies are flush together, the roles reversed. Yunho wonders if this is how it was with the others. "You want to talk? Let's talk about Changmin. Let's talk about Junsu."

A flood of fear and lust rushes through Yoochun at the grasp on his throat, leaving him dizzy and hard against the other man's hip. He draws in a breath, feeling metal shift in his hand.

"They have us now," Yoochun hisses. "They don't fucking need you."

"I take care of me and mine," Yunho retorts without missing a beat, without failing to notice how Yoochun's eyes glaze over slightly and his stance seems to relax and tense all at once. "I leave no man behind." His gaze drifts to the other's shaking lips.

Yoochun swallows hard, throat working as he shifts under the other man. But malice is gone from Yunho's grip, he's too captivated to will any strength into his clenched fists. His hips thrust forward more than is necessary to pin Yoochun to the wall, the hand at his throat pressing against his collarbone instead.

For a man so strong, he's very delicate to the touch. Yunho almost jerks back at the thought. It's dangerous and loaded with meanings he can't begin to decipher.

Yoochun makes a small noise in the back of his throat, feeling the other man's growing erection shift against his. The hand at his neck is still a presence, fingertips brushing over the vulnerable skin. Words stick in his chest, gaze not flinching from the other's. Still a challenge.

Another moment passes them by, locked in place. Yunho is the first to break their staring contest, but his loss is punctuated with a brutal kiss. Claiming Yoochun's lips roughly, briefly, he draws back, triumphant.

"Is this how you kiss him?"

His eyes slip closed during the short, brutal kiss, pulse thumping dully in his ears. Ducking his head, Yoochun looks up at the other man through his eyelashes, licking his lips. "You'll have to be more specifc. Jaejoong? Junsu? Changmin?" Getting an undeniable thrill out of reminding the man he's had both of his lovers.

"Jaejoong, you fuck," he bites, pinning Yoochun's arms above his head and driving their hips together once more. It's a sharp reminder that he's in control.

Yoochun chokes at the sudden movements, curling his fingers briefly, flexing his wrists in the other man's iron grip. "No," he gets out breathlessly, leaning forward until their mouths brush. "Not like that."

Taking the other man's lips, he lowers the walls, just enough for that moment, kissing him languidly but deeply, swiping his tongue over a full bottom lip. Pouring all the passion into the kiss that he shares with Jae, before drawing back, breathless and eyes glittering.

Of course, it would be slow, passionate, as if they have all the time in the world. Loving, Yunho might call it, under different circumstances. He grits his teeth at the thought, nudging Yoochun's head to the side.

"Are you thinking about him now?" he whispers, emphasizing his point with another thrust. "Is that it?"

Biting his lip against a moan, Yoochun closes his eyes, rocking his hips forward. "I always think of him."

Jaejoong is in his skin, in him and through him and around him. It's how it's always been. But he has nothing to do with right now, not really. This is something else entirely.

The admission elicits a groan from Yunho. He can feel himself letting go of his inhibitions, of his self-imposed boundaries. This is a slippery slope.

"You get off on pain?" he questions, tightening his hold on the other man's wrists.

The words slither into his ear, a spark of pain in his wrists as Yunho's strong grip closes around them. "Why?" he breaths, arching against him. "Do you want to hurt me?"

Yunho smirks, relenting just a little. "Asks the man who wanted to beat the hell out of me a moment ago."

"You didn't answer the question," Yoochun murmurs, feeling the slide into sexual, moving against the other man, pulling at the grip on his hands. He leans in to kiss him again, bruising like before, drawing back to mouth at his jaw. "Do you want to hurt me?"

Yunho flushes at the temptation in his voice, at the invitation to lower his guard. It's not for nothing that these boys have survived on their own for so long. They're chameleon-like and manipulative, enough to make him forget his training.

"No," he whispers, moving his hands until he can link his fingers with Yoochun's. For all that, he doesn't let go.

And there it is, the chink in the armor. Men like this are so easy to exploit. Hiding his smirk, Yoochun gives a sudden vicious push off the wall, pulling to free his hands and reverse their positions.

The sudden shove knocks Yunho a few steps back but it takes more than confusion to make him release the other man. He stumbles, dragging Yoochun with him until they're in the center of the room and another moment will give the rebel a chance to right himself and try again.

Using their joined hands for leverage, Yunho spins them towards the desk and twists the other's arms behind his back as he returns the favor of a push.

Yoochun's cheek smacks against the surface of the desk, trying still to free his arms and letting out a choked burst of air when he realizes he can't. Yunho has him bent over the desk, keeping him down and standing close, too fucking close. Equal parts lust and panic war in his chest, a soft, pleading noise in the back of his throat.

"Keep this up and I'm going to think you like it," Yunho warns, throat closing when Yoochun's attempts to free himself only lead their hips to connect again. Desire sparks through him, clear and sudden, but it's tinged with shame. He shouldn't be doing this.

It's just to scare the younger man, he tells himself. It's just a tactic, like in any war game. To further his point, he reaches a hand around Yoochun's body to undo his belt. Removing it quickly, he makes to tie it around his wrists.

"You didn't answer either," he whispers, a question, a warning. A threat. Stop me before I go too far.

Yoochun is panting raggedly, heart jumping into his throat as he feels his wrists secured, the leather tight and biting into his skin. Yunho's erection is pressing against him, threat and promise all at the same time and Yoochun grinds helplessly against the surface of the desk.

"Why don't you find out," he chokes, biting his lip.

Yunho feels the situation slip from his hands, and he's afraid, afraid for the first time of what he might do. "You want me to rape you, is that it?" he grunts, thrusting brutally back in response. Hating himself for it.

Fear rushes through Yoochun, stealing his breath. The other man said he wouldn't hurt him, just seconds ago, but since when has a member of the Guard ever been true to his word? Yoochun takes a deep, shaking breath, pressing his forehead against the desk. Letting it happen. Not fighting. Still a gamble, no matter how high the stakes.

The words are bitter and torn from his throat when he speaks. "You have no idea what I want."

It's sick, surreal, like he's stepped into a dream. Instead of speaking, Yunho buries his fingers in thick, dark locks and pulls. Slowly, his free hand travels to Yoochun's hip, caressing over cloth before he tugs down his trousers roughly. Mind games work both ways.

And god, he's so fucking exposed, naked from the waist down and tied, the possibility of being walked in on ridiculously high. The sound of his own harsh breathing is loud in his ears, mouth dry with want and apprehension. The feel of the Yunho's hand in his hair is oddly counterpoint, somehow soothing despite the harshness of the action.

Bent over his form, Yunho closes his eyes, blood rushing through his veins. Yoochun's skin is warm against his cheek, but the younger man can't be comfortable with his hands bound, can't honestly want this. He slips his hand along Yoochun's side and around, pubic hair soft under his fingers. "Are you going to stop me?" he whispers, thumb stroking a path below his navel.

And that's the question, isn't it? Take back the control of the situation, stop him, hurt him, anything but be at his mercy like this. Or submit. Let himself be taken by this man, just like this.

"No," Yoochun murmurs, rocking his hips into the touch.

Yunho's breath catches but his hand resumes its quest. The touch is gentle, careful. He's taken enough already, fear, pain is the last thing he wants even if it disappoints Yoochun. "Why?" he breathes, pressing his lips against inked skin.

"I want to trust you," Yoochun confesses, the words barely audible. He feels dizzy at the touch, the situation so far out of his control. He doesn't know how to get it back, doesn't know if he wants to.

"So do I," Yunho admits quietly. Choking on quick, half-hearted breaths, he moves fingers into Yoochun's palm, trying to offer some semblance of control.

They're suspended like this for a few moments, Yunho's heart pounding in his chest, Yoochun's audible through his ribs, before he slowly pulls his zipper undone. The sound is almost too loud in the small, silent room.

Yoochun tenses up involuntarily, hands clutching at air, the desk flat and cool against his cheek. Almost wanting to remind the man of his words, to go back to the question and answer a flat no. But pride holds his tongue. Pride and a desperate need to discover the other man's nature. Another game, another test, and it's easier to think of it that way. So much easier than this rawness, this electricity between them.

"I said..." Yunho whispers, noting the tension in the other man's limbs. "I said I wasn't going to hurt you."

Half-naked and aroused, he presses his teeth against a shoulder bone, breathing harshly as he strokes muscled hips.

Yoochun groans at the sharp prick of teeth against his skin, at the gentled, soothing touches, pressing back against Yunho's erection. "Gods, just..." he hisses, feeling something in his chest pull and release. "Fuck me."

Yunho groans at the command, hips driving forth as if encouraged by the tremor in Yoochun's voice. Swallowing in a parched throat, he hesitates against his better judgment.

He can't do it.

Shaking with pent-up lust, Yunho hastily undoes the belt, throwing it to the ground and clutching Yoochun's hair in his fist. He drags him backwards, an inch above the desk, breathing harshly. "When I fuck you, it won't be to prove a point."

He releases him, stepping back. "Get out of here."

For a moment, Yoochun doesn't move, head spinning with the blow of the sudden rejection, shame cresting over him in waves. He's painfully aware of his undressed state, bent over by force by some arrogant fuck and even now, even after that, the man still has to drive the knife home. That he still thinks he's better than Yoochun and it infuriates the younger man.

He pushes himself up, straightening on unsteady legs, fastening his trousers with shaking hands. A burning gaze finds Yunho's, silent for a long moment before spitting a venomous 'fuck you' in the other man's direction, shoving past him to the door. He feels sick and dizzy and so angry he can almost taste blood. And hurt and he doesn't fucking understand why. Yoochun takes a deep breath as the door locks behind him, running his hands through his hair.

He needs Jaejoong.

***

Yunho sits alone, the small room a cell more than anything else.

Angrily, bored like a beast in the zoos of ancient times, he stands, paces the room. First, from bed to door, then perpendicularly and again. He's driving himself slowly insane. This whole day has thrown him off balance. He doesn't know what any of it means anymore and he needs the comfort of the familiar--how long will it be until Yoochun recovers his doubts and decides he can't be trusted? He never should've laid a hand on the man.

He stops when he hears the soft sound of footsteps outside his door.

To anyone watching, Jaejoong’s walk would seem anything but purposeful. Pulling the loose sweater tighter around his shoulders, he continues down the hall, bare feet soundless. Yoochun had drifted into sleep an hour ago, and though he'd been loathe to leave him, Jaejoong knew he wouldn't find rest unless some questions were answered in his mind. Starting with why their prisoner had left marks on his lover.

A soft knock, features schooled into a pleasant mask.

Leaning back against the windowsill - amazing, he's a prisoner with a view on the outside world - Yunho shakes himself. "Come in." It's not like he can stop them. These people don't trust him. He has no illusions.

And from the sight of Jaejoong stepping in, he thinks he knows exactly what this is about.

"What do you want?" he asks anyway, folding his arms over his chest in a subconscious gesture of protection. He's guilty and he knows it.

Jaejoong gives him a disarming smile, nodding to the interior of the room. "May I come in?"

Defensive, he notes absently. Afraid to be accused or with something to hide?

He'll find out soon enough.

"It's your base," Yunho shrugs, feeding Yoochun's words to the man's lover. He can't hide his unease, his guilt, his shame. He shouldn't have laid a hand on these men, he's too far gone now to do anything about it.

"If this is a bad time, I can come back later."

His room, their base, his lover. Nothing but claims these days, not that any of them seemed to mean much. Refusing to play this game - any game, only games anymore - Yunho shakes his head, motions for the other man to come in.

Jaejoong smiles, moving to sit on the edge of the other man's cot, pushing heavy bangs out of his eyes. He folds his legs up under himself, trying to look as unassuming and nonthreatening as possible.

Yunho shakes his head, pushing away from the wall, pacing again. "What are you here? It's certainly not to make chitchat." These people all want something. Always. He has a fairly good idea what Jaejoong wants.

Jaejoong watches his agitation with a measure of satisfaction.

"Isn't it? Better I get to know you myself than hear about you second-hand." The veiled meaning's there for Yunho to interpret as he will.

"I've told you all you wanted to know," Yunho snaps. "Isn't that what interrogation was for? What is it with you people trying to get under my skin?" He stops before the door, thumps his head against it wearily. "You can't decide if you'd rather lock me up or put a gun in my hand. Just stop with all your games."

The smile fades, coldness seeping into his expression.

"It's not a game."

And maybe it was, once upon a time, but now...it's his only weapon. He's not playing around.

"We can talk about why there are marks on my lover's wrists that you put there. Or we can be civilized, and you can let me decide whether I'll let you put them there again."

One word sticks in Yunho's chest like a brand. Again. His gaze is full of disgust when he turns to Jaejoong again. "You're insane." He's not denying it, not low enough for that, but neither is he confessing. It's not the first time he's met monsters, though he wouldn't have thought Jaejoong to be one.

"Don't you want him? Or was he an experiment?" His jaw tightens. "Or were you using sex to hurt him?"

"Yoochun came to me looking for a fight." It's not answer enough, not by far. Not for what he's done. "I wouldn't cooperate. That's the end of it." He's not going to give Jaejoong what he wants. He's not going to sign his name on a rape confession. Whatever Yoochun told him, it wasn't that. "It won't happen again. Satisfied?"

Jaejoong sighs, shaking his head once again.

"Yoochun is...very young," he says quietly, laying a hand over his heart. "You need to be careful with him."

A tilt of the head.

"If he's not worth it, then I'll hold you to that."

Yunho frowns.

"You want me to sleep with him?" He's shaking with pent up frustration, losing it in front of those calm, angelic eyes. "Of all things I've heard and seen since coming here... you whoring Yoochun out is the one I believe the least."

A slight lift of the chin is the only betrayal of the anger the words bring. "Is that what you think this is? That I'm treating him like a whore?" Jaejoong's hands curl nto fists at the insinuation. "I am asking you, if you plan to sleep with my lover, to pay attention. To not discard him like trash when you're through."

Yunho mirrors his stance. "Is that what he told you?" He expected nothing less than rage, but what he's gotten in return in worse than jealousy. It's a carte blanche to be with Yoochun again. "I don't know what issues you two have and I don't want to know, but he asked me to fuck him and I refused. I don't hurt the people I take to bed." The image of Yoohun's bound wrists is fleeting before his memory, but poignant.

"Why did you refuse?" Jaejoong asks, holding up a hand to still a heated remark. "Whether you meant to hurt him is not my question." It may seem strange to ask it, and he knows Yunho thinks it is. But there is no jealousy in him for this. Yoochun is his, completely, utterly, and eternally. As is he. There's no need for jealousy between them.

"What do you want me to say?" Yunho slumps against the door, knocks his head against it. The pain is nothing compared to what he feels.

Jaejoong rises from the cot, moving to stand in front of Yunho, at equal eye level due to the man's posture.

"Chunnie is very young," he repeats. "You...unsettled him. He doesn't know where he is with you. He always knows what he is to me, and the others...they let him play his game. You're different."

A sigh.

"If you don't want him, you aren't forced into anything. But if you do...be mindful of that. He's more fragile then he seems."

"You just came here to tell me this?" Yunho asks, arching an eyebrow, utterly unconvinced. They're in a time of war, he's fled the Guard and Jaejoong is asking him to... what? Join their happy menagerie?

A coy smile.

"That. Curiosity." A slight desire to see what about this man was so unsettling.

Yunho regards him quietly, appraisingly. He can't shake the feeling that he's been left out of the loop, that time has taken it upon itself to screw him over. He feels like he's missed days, months, years. Maybe that's how long it'll take him to figure these people out, if he's ever to succeed.

"What you have with the others... that's your business," he sighs. "I can't be part of that. I only came here to find Changmin." That was his goal, his purpose. He doesn't know what he's doing becoming involved with rebels now.

Another step forward, placing a hand on Yunho's chest and looking up at him through his eyelashes.

"That was then," he says softly, moving to press their mouths together. "This is now."