Acts of Contrition (16b/20)

[rawthorne]

Yunho freezes for a moment, eyes wide with surprise, and then he's pushing back, gently, trying to put some distance between them. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Is this how they moved in on Changmin, he wonders? Come to bed with us and we'll trust you?

Jaejoong sighs, darting in to rest his lip against a pale throat, speaking in low tones. "It hasn't been that long, has it?" he asks with a quiet laugh. "I'm kissing you."

"I can see that," Yunho breathes shakily, swallowing hard against full lips. "Why?" Why now? Why me? Boldly, he moves a hand to the other man's clavicle. One press of his thumb in the right place and this could all be over. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to trust me," Jaejoong replies, licking his way across a small expanse of skin. "I want to trust you." A nip. "If I have to put my life in someone's hands, I'd rather he be a lover than some stranger I know through stony silences and hearsay"

Yunho feels himself slipping, knees locking to keep him propped against the door, against Jaejoong. "Yoochun said the same thing." And maybe there's some truth to it, maybe he can see where they're coming from. Doesn't make the ache in his chest any easier to bear.

"You could always just judge me by my actions," he suggests, but his thumb's come to stroke a gentle rhythm against the hem of Jaejoong's sweater.

"That's what I'm doing," he answers, taking Yunho's earlobe between his teeth, sucking gently. "I want to know what I'm missing."

A moan. Jaejoong somehow knows exactly where to touch him, how to bring him to his knees.

"Not much, I can tell you that myself," he smirks, eyes closed, slowly, unwillingly letting go of his defenses. After all, he's come this far, what's the worst that can happen?

"So modest," Jaejoong purrs, pressing his body against Yunho's, feeling the man's growing erection nestle against his hip."If nothing else, you get to find out what you've missed."

A gasp and then Yunho tightens his free arm around the other man's waist. His lips against Jaejoong's ear, he shakes his head slightly. "Don't try to seduce me."

Ink black eyes glitter as Jaejoong draws back, smiling.

"I don't start things without seeing them through," he murmurs, softness in counterpoint to the edge in Yunho's tone.

Yunho's eyes are guarded but he doesn't give in. Not so easily. "Prove it," he demands, watching, observing, detaching himself from this moment. Or at least trying to.

Jaejoong's thumbs stroke the sharp jut of Yunho's hips, mouthing his jaw, trailing his lips along his neck, collarbone and down, until he's kneeling before him.

"Is this how you want me?" he asks softly, nuzzling the other man's erection through his trousers.

The breath is knocked out of Yunho, who can barely think let alone speak. It's irrational but he can feel need and better judgment conflicting, pent-up tension from feeling Yoochun pressed against his hips making it harder and harder for him to hold to precious moral high ground.

"Didn't your mother teach you not to be a tease?" he grits out, fists tight at his sides. Verbal aggression is his last resort.

"Being dead got in the way," Jaejoong says with a smirk, stroking the back of Yoochun's knuckles, attempting to get him to relax. Coercion so second nature that he can't help himself. "You're allowed to enjoy yourself."

"You think I need your permission?" Yunho retorts, tangling his fingers in thick, dark hair. Brutality didn't stop Yoochun, so why should it stop Jaejoong? He gives up the pretense of it just as soon as the words are formed in his mind. "Please, just..."

"Shh," Jaejoong murmurs, undoing the other man's belt quickly, gently, tugging his trousers down around his knees. The tension lining Yunho's body is enough to tell him that dragging this out would be the wrong way to go, so he simply meets the man's eyes for a long moment before taking him in his mouth, enjoying the feel of Yunho's hand in his hair.

It's heavenly and sinful and contradiction all at once and Yunho leans back against the door, knees shaking.

"Fuck, I-"

But it's also good and Jaejoong is obviously no novice at this. Yunho feels something inside him tremble as the knowledge sets in. He doesn't want to be using these people, but they're using him in their own way already. Still, two wrongs don't make a right and Yunho's fingers slip over the other man's cheeks, over his nose and forehead, almost reverent.

The soft touches are uncharacteristic of a man of power; too soft, too gentle. Jaejoong had expected to be made a possession, for caressing fingers to turn harsh. To pull his hair, force him mouth down further. Yunho is unexpected and Jaejoong files this away, eyelashes fluttering to a close against white skin.

Chest constricting against the beauty of the scene, against the sheer eroticism of those full, pale lips closing around his erection, Yunho pants harshly. He can't look away, can't give himself any reprieve. Shakily, he traces the shell of Jaejoong's ear. What makes this man shiver? What makes him moan in pleasure?

"You want to do this?" he breathes, swallowing in a dry throat.

Jaejoong draws back to speak, panting slightly.

"Yes," he breathes, nothing but sincerity in his tone. And he does, he wants Yunho, wants to see him unraveled and stripped bare. Wants to know him the way Changmin does. The way Junsu does. He darts his tongue out, licking the tip of the man's erection before swallowing once again.

Eyes falling tightly shut at the gesture, Yunho nods, shakily, or thinks he does. If Jaejoong wants this, he'll let him do it, he won't resist. He'll let the younger man lead him for once. The pressure is almost too good, the wet, tight heat of those lips on him undoing him piece by piece until all that's left of him is raw and shaking.

Jaejoong can feel him trembling under his hands, thumbs stroking over a flat stomach, caressing him even as he tries to bring him to completion. Let go, he thinks, raising his eyes to see the man's features, wanting to draw the last bit of tension from this man's body, to feel him break in the sweetest of ways.

Yunho can't--can't hold on, can't hold back and he's coming, breaking, shattering under Jaejoong's skilled ministrations.

"I'm..." His voice cracks like a teenager's, and he can't warn him, can't pull back. He spills with a shout, knees shaking so badly he nearly collapses if it weren't for Jaejoong's hand on his abdomen, holding him in place.

For all that he's taken in the past, Jaejoong still fights not to choke, breathing through his nose until he's taken all Yunho can give, pulling away once the man is spent. Rising, mouth glistening with the remnants of Yunho's release, he presses himself against the other man, kissing his neck and jaw.

Yunho clutches his shirt, hanging on to him for support. It's more than a release between men, huddling in a bunk somewhere and pretending not to feel anything, not to care for anyone. He can feel all that it could represent; it's there in Jaejoong's touch and it scares him.

"Sorry." The apology is foreign on his lips, but heartfelt. "You didn't have to swallow." Tell that to the rookies on the Acheron, he thinks. But he never did.

Jaejoong draws back, meeting the man's gaze, a gentle, satisfied smile coming to his lips. He sees Yunho. And what he sees clears any doubt from his mind. Sparing a thought for Yoochun, Jaejoong sighs, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I don't mind," he replies, nuzzling the man's ear with a sigh. "Next time, just give me some warning, alright?"

Heart pounding a steady rhythm, Yunho cups the back of his head, angles it so the can kiss him better. This isn't some hurried fling, he won't let it be. Tasting himself on Jaejoong's lips, he thinks of the men he's had in the past, of the men he still wants. Of the men they've shared.

It doesn't feel wrong or immoral. It confuses him.

"Come to our room," Jaejoong whispers against Yunho's mouth, running a hand through the taller man's hair.

"Won't..." Yunho trembled. "Won't Yoochun mind?"

Won't Changmin? Won't Junsu? He's stealing something that's theirs and he has no right. It's not modesty that holds him back, but a sense that he's intruding. And he is.

Jaejoong strokes his hip gently, soothingly, kissing him again. "You'll hurt him more if you leave it like that. Come with me."

Still hesitating, Yunho sighs, buries his face in the crook of Jaejoong's neck. The skin is warm against his face, the trembling pulse point revealing the barest hint that he's not alone in feeling like this.

"Lead the way."

Yoochun's drifting in and out of sleep when he hears the door open.

"Jae?" he murmurs, one hand settling on the empty space beside him.

Yunho doesn't speak. With Jaejoong's hand dragging him forward and what feels like lead in his limbs, he steps into the darkened room, the sound of Yoochun's voice making him hesitate.

Jaejoong's eyes are glittering in the darkness, head tilting and Yoochun follows the gesture to Yunho, tension lining his shoulders. For a moment, he feels anger with Jaejoong rise to a crest inside him, because dammit, this isn't his to fix. But those eyes are steady, pinning him there as surely as the smaller man has ensnared Yunho.

It's a second chance being thrust at him and damn Jaejoong for knowing when he's most vulnerable. For cutting him off at the knees in order to carry him.

Yoochun looks up at the taller man, jaw set in challenge,  eyes dark.

"He wouldn't take no for an answer," Yunho offers, a half-smile tugging at his lips before it vanishes into the darkness yet again. Yoochun unnerves him, makes his blood boil and at the same time, he feels the need to apologize somehow.

"He never does," the other man says darkly, and Jaejoong sighs, lacing his fingers with Yunho's, pulling him forward.

"Jae..." Yoochun starts, but he cuts him off, kissing him firmly, letting him taste Yunho on his lips. The other man makes a small noise into the kiss, hand fisting in the sheets.

See what I've done, the kiss challenges, before pulling back, two pair of dark eyes turning to Yunho.

The moment is intimate and Yunho feels himself begin to harden again. His own perversion shocks him, but Jaejoong's sweetly whispered words still ring in his ear. "I am asking you, if you plan to sleep with my lover, to pay attention. To not discard him like trash when you are through."

Releasing Jae's hand, he leans into the wall, the surface cool under his bare arm. He tries not to think about his come on their lips, about how it felt to kiss each of them. He isn't fooled.

Frowning at Yunho, Jaejoong bites back words of frustration. Each of them are determined to make this difficult, and he can honestly see how they fucked it up so badly when left to their own devices. He moves onto the bed, slipping behind Yoochun and wrapping his arms around that slim waist, feeling the tension in his limbs. So damn young, for all they're the same age.

"Yunho," he murmurs. "Come to bed."

"He doesn't want me to," Yunho shakes his head, guarded, calm. It's as if he's been walking through a dream since he got here anyway; why should this be any different? "And I don't blame him."

He can see Yoochun's eyes in the dark, can see Jaejoong's hands on his body. They're beautiful together, alone, like this.

Jaejoong's hands tighten on his waist as he swallows, the taste of the older man still on his lips, mingled with his lover's and it's heady, twisting something in his chest. It's not true. Gods help him, it isn't, but he can't say it. The words won't force themselves from his lips.

"No. I don't. Get out," is what comes out instead, the words fully of hostility and poorly disguised hurt.

"He does," Jaejoong refutes quietly, his silken voice so close to Yoochun's ear. "He wants you so badly," and for a surreal moment, he feels as if he's not even in the room, like he never even spoke.

Something in Jaejoong's voice draws Yunho forward, as if he wants to believe in it, wants to bury himself in their arms and forget all else. It's selfish and human and he wants to rebel against it, but he can't. Because he's pushing away from the wall and he's walking forward until his knees hit the side of the bed.

Does he see fear in Yoochun's eyes? Anger? Resignation? He wants none of those, so he kneels on the floor by their lean, muscled forms and puts out a hand. An olive branch, so to speak.

Yoochun doesn't take it. Doesn't move at all in fact, stony features set into place. The man had his opportunity; he's not going to spread his legs because Jaejoong's managed to fool the soldier into wanting him. A sigh close to his ear and slim fingers fit into Yunho's palm, Jaejoong tugging his hand lightly. "Come to bed," he repeats.

Slowly, cautiously, as if Yoochun is an animal that's easily frightened, Yunho draws himself up to full height and climbs onto the bed beside the other two. The spark of satisfaction in Jaejoong's eyes, maybe even of mirth, but he stays silent and for that Yunho is thankful.

Maybe the frightened animal isn't Yoochun but someone else entirely. He can't quite admit it to himself.

Jaejoong shifts to press his lips to Yunho's neck, hands moving to slide the man's shirt up and off his body. Slipping a hand down to stroke at the firm muscles of the other man's stomach, he leans in to bite at the shell of his ear, murmuring, "Kiss him."

Too used by now to that breathless tremor in Jaejoong's voice, victim to it every time the man speaks, Yunho obeys. His lips meet Yoochun's hesitantly, but this isn't new and it's almost too easy to abandon himself to the kiss, to forget his misgivings. So different than hours before, lacking the tension, the violent edge that threatened.

Yoochun is cold and silent, pliant but unresponsive.

There's a hiss, from him, from Yoochun, from Jaejoong, Yunho can't be sure, but he's moving forward, throwing himself into the kiss, wanting--for the first time, wanting to give himself over to them. Yoochun's skin is warm under his hands and Yunho bites back a sound of pleasure, steeling himself against all his desires. But Yoochun is making it so easy to screw this up that he can't but feel out of step with the man beneath him. Frustrated, he draws back to catch his breath, leans his head against a strong shoulder.

"Shh," Jaejoong soothes, hand finding Yoochun's on the bed, moving to press his lips against Yunho's spine. Both are so breakable, in ways neither will see or admit to, and he needs to guide them in this.

A hand reaches down to brush over the bulge in Yunho's trousers, stroking him gently.

Yunho shivers at the touch, arching into Jaejoong's hand, into Yoochun's arms, and he dares to look up. Yoochun's eyes are dark, guarded, but full of want. He grits his teeth against the instinct to thrust down into the hollow of Yoochun's hip.He doesn't know what they want, what they expect from him, and the answer is logical. Stilling their hands with his own, he turns to look over his shoulder. Jaejoong has got them this far.

"What do I do?"

A soft smile at the question, pressing another kiss to Yunho's spine. He knows what he wants, what they all want. Moving his hands out from under Yunho's, he goes to work at the man's trousers.

"I want you to make love to him," he breathes, seeing the spark in Yoochun's eyes as he says the words.

Taking care of you, Chunnie.

Yunho pretends to be calm, though under the surface, his pulse skips a beat. Are they so connected that one can demand what the other craves? Yoochun's gaze is inscrutable, but he still feels a flicker of doubt.

Doubt, that is neatly pushed aside as Jaejoong undresses him again, hands soft and almost soothing. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Jaejoong murmurs with hesitation, answering for the other man yet again. A hand drifts up to caress Yunho's chest, thumb tracing along his collarbone.

"Don't," Yoochun bites out suddenly, fiercely, as Yunho reaches for him. "Don't touch me if it's just because he tells you." A hard glare at Jaejoong, because goddamn it, he doesn't want to be a sidenote in this. A neccesary hurdle to move over so the man can get to Jae. "You don't want me. You've made that clear."

Yunho stops but doesn't desist. "You have no idea what I want." Not when Yunho barely knows it himself.

His own words, thrown back at him, catching him off guard. Twisting the sheets in his fists, he meets the other man's gaze. Torn.

"Prove it," he whispers, but the words hold none of their former challenge. Jaejoong's hands are tugging his underwear off, stripping away the last barrier between them, sliding down to stroke him with a familiar and practiced touch.

They know each other as if they've been together since the beginnings of time. It's fascinating to watch, but Yunho wants more. On sheer impulse, he bends down low and covers Jaejoong's hand with his own.

Yoochun inhales sharply,  the pressure of a foreign touch making his eyes slide closed, a soft noise falling from his lips before he can bite down against it.

Not a complaint, that, so Yunho sees no reason to stop. But he can feel himself aching with need, pelvis pushing into the sheets desperately as if to get some relief. It's primal and embarrassing but all he can do to keep from taking Yoochun without preparation.

"Let me," Jaejoong murmurs, reaching to take a vial from beside the bed, spreading the oil on his fingers and letting his hand slip between Yoochun's legs, seeking his entrance and pressing a finger inside him. He loves the look on his lover's face when he does this. Parted lips, dark eyelashes on pale cheeks. It's been seemingly countless years, but the man's beauty still strikes him anew. Pride wells in his chest as a groan breaks the silence, dark eyes fixing on Yunho's. "He's beautiful, isn't he?"

Yunho falters, unused to using such words, to witnessing such gentle tenderness between men. He lets Jaejoong prepare their lover, lets him tease and stroke as he best knows how and lets Yoochun enjoy this. Lets himself watch them as if he belongs here.

"You're very careful with him."

"I love him," Jaejoong says simply, withdrawing his fingers from Yoochun's body, stroking his hip as the other man makes a small noise of protest. Oil in his hands again, and he's wrapping his fingers around Yunho's erection, slicking him, preparing him for what's to come. "You're always careful with the people you love."

A gasp and it's as if Jaejoong can see right through him, into the core of his being and Yunho fears, fears what that means, what it could mean for them.

"You're a mind-reader now?" he chokes loudly, propping himself over Yoochun's body, part of him recoiling, part of him giving in.

Jaejoong just gives him a small, knowing smile.

Yoochun ignores his lover as he curls his hand around the nape of Yunho's neck, drawing up his knees and fitting their mouths together. Please, he says through the press of their lips, the touch of their skin. It doesn't matter what it means, not right now. Please.

Yunho doesn't know how it happens, can barely find himself to move, but somehow, probably thanks to Jaejoong again, he feels himself slip into tight, wet warmth.

"Gods, Yoochun," he moans, supporting his weight on his forearms, knowing that he won't last long and hating himself for it.

Yoochun lets out a soft cry as the other man stretches him, fills him, breath coming in short, harsh pants. He mumbles in his own tongue, speaking rapidly, the words falling from hips lips in a tumble of liquid syllables. His legs come up to hook around Yunho's waist, eyes finding Jajoong's in the darkness.

The sudden heat elicits a soft cry from Yunho, hips tightening to hold back an involuntary thrust.

Yoochun presses his forehead to Yunho's shoulder. Arms wrap around the other man's, clenching around him, getting used to the feel of him inside. "Move."

The breath is knocked out of him as Yoochun's body slides against his, the sensations incredible. Jaejoong is somewhere behind him, around him, his hand on his back, in his hair--or is that Yoochun's? He can't tell, doesn't know anymore. Biting back a groan, Yunho draws back, draws out as far as he can before thrusting in, hard and slow, pleasure spiking along every vein.

Breath caught by the beauty of them, Jaejoong touches his chest absently, hand wandering down to stroke himself through his trousers, waning erection from his encounter with Yunho hardening once again, a soft whimper coming from his lips. He wants to touch them, touch them both, but he keeps his hands on his own body, forces himself to watch.

Yunho fills the pliant body beneath him again and again, knees digging into the hard mattress beneath them. His breath is haggard and broken, each thrust dragging a gasp out of him. "Okay?" he whispers, not stopping for all that, not stilling the rhythm of his hips.

Yoochun has no breath to speak, nodding fiercely, clutching Yunho's shoulder, thrusting his hip upward. Catching Jaejoong masturbating to the sight of them out of the corner of his eyes, a groan fills his chest.

Yunho closes his eyes, head thrown back as he arches, the intense heat, the warm pressure driving into him with relentless force. His vision blurs, for a moment, he can barely see Yoochun, but he can feel him. He's there, suspended in time, body taut and strong and inked and bruised and it's too much. Too much and he's back on the Acheron, dreaming, he's got to be. None of it makes sense anymore. None of it...

A hoarse cry is drawn from his lips, rippling around the walls and echoing back like an equally inadequate reply.

Heat rushes through Yoochun's body, Yunho collapsing against him, shaking and sweat slick and he chokes, holding onto him tightly, face buried against his neck, so close, so fucking close, still thrusting against his hip. And somewhere in the darkness, there's Jaejoong's catch of breath, Yunho's weight against him and he's coming, releasing with a groan.

For a moment, there's silence. Yunho doesn't dare disturb it. Trembling in the dark, he slips away, collapsing on the bed beside Yoochun. It's only then he sees Jaejoong, flushed, wanton; beautiful.

He spills between them quietly, for the first time so silent and unassuming and downright fragile that Yunho moans in his place, reaching out a hand. It's clasped tightly, Yoochun's eyes shining with something like mirth as the other man sits up, lips trailing down a pale, flushed neck. Something like an unspoken 'we've got you' lingers in his gaze.

Instead of bristling at the thought, Yunho relaxes.