Acts of Insurrection (3/20)
Title: Acts of Insurrection (3/20)
Authors: butterflyweb and nemesis_cry
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: OT5
Warning(s): violence, graphic sex, language
Summary: It's been six months since Changmin crashed on the remote planet known as Elysia. Five months since Yunho and Junsu found him. Four months since Jaejoong was shot by a man he and Yoochun both trusted. Now training as the Empress' men, former soldiers and former rebels have shed past allegiances in service of a common goal. But the tide is turning--and not in their favor.
Banner credit: luvmeanddespair
A/N: Thank you for all your wonderful feedback for chapter one. We hope you enjoy this one!
Prequel: Acts of Contrition
Acts of Insurrection: One; Two
Chapter Three
He wakes in the middle of the night, shivering. It isn't colder than usual; they're on the same fucking ship, with the same recycled air and artificial life-support. And yet Junsu shivers. He burrows down beneath the covers for a while, desperately seeking relief only to find the chill lingering. He thinks of moving, thinks of taking a shower but he can't make his limbs obey. He hasn't felt like this since the Rharian Fields, since the landslide he barely remembers.
Swallowing against the taste of flavorless, proteined grub, he makes a grab for Yunho's arm. It's heavy enough to hide him, but too heavy to move. In the darkness, he makes a sound akin to a sob but that isn't what it is, not really. Soldiers don't cry, especially not because they're suddenly afraid of the dark.
Yoochun hears a noise like a cry worm its way into his dreams, twisting things until they don't make sense anymore, until what's hard and dark takes an even sharper edge and he wakes with a soft exhale, body tense. Changmin slumbers heavy by his side, a rare occurrence and Yoochun wonders if the Gods haven't seen fit to give him the younger man's nightmares. Until he hears the noise again, becomes aware of a shaking form and the sudden coldness along his arm where Junsu usually lies pressed against him.
Yoochun's fingertips brush bare skin, feeling the rise of gooseflesh, of cold sweat.
"Su-ah?" he murmurs, taking Changmin's affectionate name for the younger man. "What is it?"
Junsu feels his stomach tighten at the softly whispered question. "Nothing. Just cold."
He doesn't hesitate anymore. Plaintive, seeking hands twist in the sheets. There's no nightmare to speak of, just cold sweat and sleeplessness. And something beyond that, something that eats away at him like an ulcer.
"Can't sleep," he adds, as if it isn’t evident already. They're all tired and angry and he's keeping Yoochun up when he should be resting. Part of him feels guilt.
Sleepily, Yoochun pulls the sheet up higher on Junsu's waist. "Wake Min up," he murmurs, eyes closing slightly. "He'll tell you a story." There's no sarcasm in the words, just tiredness, dragging him down.
Junsu's cheeks flare. "Go back to sleep," he advises, taking comfort in the gentle touch to his skin. Waking them up is the last thing on his mind.
Yoochun’s arm slides around his waist, something in the words visibly unsettling him, even through anger and exhaustion. "C'mere if you're cold."
It's all the encouragement that's needed. Invisible shackles release agile limbs that wrap around Yoochun's, pulling him as tight as can be. To suffocate in a lover's arms, that's the way he wants to die. Painful clarity accompanies the thought and he only tightens his hold at the underlying truth. What are the odds, right?
Yoochun swallows, eyes closed, fingers between the other man's shoulder blades. "You're shaking."
"Yeah. I know." Junsu doesn't know why or how or what's going on. It doesn't matter. It's dark enough in the room for it not to matter. "I can't seem to stop."
Yoochun dips his head to find his mouth in the darkness, brushing the edge of his upper lip. "I can tell you a story if you like. Or I can just listen."
Junsu shakes his head slightly, but he's not disagreeing. He doesn't know what he's doing. "I like to hear you talk," he admits into soft dark hair, trembling.
Yoochun holds him close, darting the tip of his tongue against Junsu's philtrum, another butterfly kiss to the dark smudge of his eyebrow. Junsu feels so damn small in his arms and it makes something clench in his chest.
"I used to live by the sea," he starts softly, stroking the nape of the other man's neck. "In the north of the Great Continent. Jaejoong and I would watch the waves break on the rocks through the windows during lessons. He was such a dreamer then, still believed that there were people who lived in the corals, small and fey and only visible to those who believed in them. Children's stories, but he didn't doubt them for a moment."
A soft smile graces his features. "He would try to get me to skip lessons to go to the beach. Make up all of these offerings we had to bring them, so they would like us and take us under the sea with them. His schoolbag would be weighed down with rocks and mud dolls and shells he found in the sand. We never saw them, though, no matter how many offerings we threw into the waves. It didn't change his mind."
Junsu smiles into the night. "I wish I'd known you when you were young. I would've followed Jaejoong like an idiot..." A soft grin. "Like you." It's a surprisingly uplifting image, even with the things he's seen and done on Elysia. It's not all bad. Nothing in life is.
Another, foreign hand trails up his back and into his hair. Yunho.
"That wouldn't have been so easy," he whispers and the air ripples over Junsu's nape like the wind he hasn't felt since they left Elysia. "You can't swim."
Yoochun hooks a leg behind Junsu's knee, the other man's voice warm on his skin, even as it raises his hackles. Now isn't the time. Now is about Junsu. "He can sit on the rocks," he murmurs, brushing their lips together. "Or we could teach you. Wade into the shallow pools and find sea snails."
"Always wanted to learn how to swim," Junsu sighs, comfortable with their bodies pressed up against him. "Not much sea on Piraeus..."
"Just a lot of beautiful fields," Yunho finishes, twisting his words. Not that he minds. Yunho knows. He understands. Probably. Straight, chopped nails that are probably in accordance with the annals of Guard regulations, scratch his back gently, too gently for marks. They stop when they hit Yoochun's arm still wrapped around his waist. Junsu holds his breath.
Yoochun doesn't pull away, but he doesn't press closer. Yunho angers him like none of the others. He's not sure he even knows why. "We'll go back," he says softly. "You can see the beauty that's still hidden there. I've missed seeing Jaejoong act like a child." A quiet kiss to a high cheekbone. "The two of you would be so beautiful together."
Another shudder courses through Junsu, unbidden, unjustified. It feels a little like a caress from a ghost and though he can't see Yunho's eyes over his shoulder, he's sure they're focused on Yoochun's, a silent question in them. He's fine. He just can't make them believe it.
Instead of sleep, Yoochun's story has awoken a longing he didn't know he still felt. He kisses Yoochun to forget it again. He kisses roughly, because maybe acting like a man will make him forget what it felt like to be a child and helpless.
Yoochun kisses back evenly, something sinking in his stomach, reaching to brush his fingertips over the firm muscle of Yunho's arm. It's a plea for help and he hates it, but his pride will take a back seat to Junsu's well-being.
There's no nod of understanding, but Yunho moves closer, fitting his body to Junsu's, angling his pelvis so that cold skin may be warmed in the embrace. His fingers are gentle but purposeful when he slips them around the younger man's body, stroking and holding him back. Rash impetus isn't Junsu's usual reaction to arousal and he's still soft now. Whatever is up isn't lust or love. It's reason enough to be concerned.
Yoochun breaks the kiss after a moment, keeping their lips close, clutching his shoulder. "Su-ah. Baby. What's wrong?"
Junsu's smile is so, so painfully absent and the fact sits like lead in his stomach.
"Don't know." He shrugs, but it's not meaningless. "I'm sorry." Yunho would tell him not to be sorry, but to be careful. To be better. To be smarter, next time.
What if there is no next time?
A portside explosion rattles the small craft like an earthquake and flashbacks are numerous for Junsu. But he's a pilot. Pilots don't lose their heads in times of crisis.
"Shit," Yoochun hisses, sitting straight up as Yunho and Junsu scramble out of bed, tugging on clothes. He shakes Changmin awake, the alarms that are beginning to blare startling Jaejoong into consciousness. Yoochun can't help the hand that hovers briefly at the small of Junsu's back, steadying him as he tugs on boots, hurrying towards the deck.
Another hit blocks their door closed for a few unbearable moments. Memories of being trapped flood Junsu's mind, but he doesn't scream or claw at the walls like he might've done years ago. The Guard kicked off all such bad habits. He clutches Yoochun's hand instead.
Yunho manages to open it with patience that no one else seems to possess. Changmin's the first to follow him out. No one begrudges him for it.
"Do you think it's a Guard ship, do you think they've found us?"
Changmin shakes his head quickly. "Not Guard. They'd overwhelm with manpower, follow protocol. This is too quick and dirty." Even as the words leave his mouth, he looks to Yunho for confirmation.
"They wouldn't try to be so precise," comes the decisive reply.
If the Guard knows deserters and rebels were hiding aboard the Cerberus, they wouldn't waste tactical decision-making time on targeting any specific part of the ship. Yunho can't help think they'd just be blasted into oblivion and their names dragged through the mud even more than they've undoubtedly been already.
No. The Cerberus is being hit portside. That means engines, that means someone wants to force them to stick around for pillaging or possibly worse. His men don't need to hear the bad news.
"Whatever it is, it's a chance to practice manning guns and flying at the same time." Yunho smiles, but it's tight, the catwalk shaking under their feet as they run to their crafts. They've trained for this. He'd like to think they're ready.
"You need a hobby," Yoochun forces out with a smirk, giving into the urge to clutch at Jaejoong's wrist. They skid to a stop at the end of the halls, the steel door to the hanger sealed, disgruntled crew members pacing and working at the door controls.
"What's going on?" Jaejoong demands.
"Bridge locked us out," one of the men shrugs. "Probably routing power to engines or something."
If it's that serious, it means their shields are down. It means they're fucked unless Jiexi lets them out.
Yunho snaps his fist into comsys. "You've got..."
Through crackling static that's anything but reassuring, Her Majesty sounds more than a little ruffled. "Negative. You're sitting this one out, Yunho."
"Why?"
Silence, then: "You're that eager to kill your former friends?"
Changmin shakes his head at that, snatching the com from Yunho's hand. "It's not Guard. We'd know if it was. And if you don't let us get to our fighters, it's no going to matter who it is."
Snarling at him for his insolent tone, Yoochun grabs his wrist, speaking into the comm. "Your Majesty, please, we need to get to the ships, mount a counterattack..."
Another hit and the connection is broken, but engines still fire up.
"She's going to run." Junsu's voice is a whisper.
Changmin growls, smacking his fist against the steel door in anger. "Goddammit." He hates being helpless. And stuck on a boat underfire without even the chance to fight back--it's about as helpless as a situation gets.
"Keep trying to open those doors!" Yunho bellows, uselessly, to the rest of the crew. "If they hit us, we'll need to fight." Retreat is the coward's way out, but that's hardly something he can say in front of those who worship the ground Empress Jiexi steps on. He'll never be among them, but he does love two men who are. It's enough to shut him up.
"If it's not Guard," Jaejoong interrupts his thoughts, frowning, accepting that he may know better. "Who'd want to take us out?"
Yunho shrugs. "Criminals, bounty hunters, mercenaries of every kind. We're kidding ourselves if we think we're safe in the black."
They're kidding themselves if they think, even for a moment, that they won't have to fight.
Jiexi wants a war; she's ripe to get one soon.
Authors: butterflyweb and nemesis_cry
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: OT5
Warning(s): violence, graphic sex, language
Summary: It's been six months since Changmin crashed on the remote planet known as Elysia. Five months since Yunho and Junsu found him. Four months since Jaejoong was shot by a man he and Yoochun both trusted. Now training as the Empress' men, former soldiers and former rebels have shed past allegiances in service of a common goal. But the tide is turning--and not in their favor.
Banner credit: luvmeanddespair
A/N: Thank you for all your wonderful feedback for chapter one. We hope you enjoy this one!
Prequel: Acts of Contrition
Acts of Insurrection: One; Two
Chapter Three
He wakes in the middle of the night, shivering. It isn't colder than usual; they're on the same fucking ship, with the same recycled air and artificial life-support. And yet Junsu shivers. He burrows down beneath the covers for a while, desperately seeking relief only to find the chill lingering. He thinks of moving, thinks of taking a shower but he can't make his limbs obey. He hasn't felt like this since the Rharian Fields, since the landslide he barely remembers.
Swallowing against the taste of flavorless, proteined grub, he makes a grab for Yunho's arm. It's heavy enough to hide him, but too heavy to move. In the darkness, he makes a sound akin to a sob but that isn't what it is, not really. Soldiers don't cry, especially not because they're suddenly afraid of the dark.
Yoochun hears a noise like a cry worm its way into his dreams, twisting things until they don't make sense anymore, until what's hard and dark takes an even sharper edge and he wakes with a soft exhale, body tense. Changmin slumbers heavy by his side, a rare occurrence and Yoochun wonders if the Gods haven't seen fit to give him the younger man's nightmares. Until he hears the noise again, becomes aware of a shaking form and the sudden coldness along his arm where Junsu usually lies pressed against him.
Yoochun's fingertips brush bare skin, feeling the rise of gooseflesh, of cold sweat.
"Su-ah?" he murmurs, taking Changmin's affectionate name for the younger man. "What is it?"
Junsu feels his stomach tighten at the softly whispered question. "Nothing. Just cold."
He doesn't hesitate anymore. Plaintive, seeking hands twist in the sheets. There's no nightmare to speak of, just cold sweat and sleeplessness. And something beyond that, something that eats away at him like an ulcer.
"Can't sleep," he adds, as if it isn’t evident already. They're all tired and angry and he's keeping Yoochun up when he should be resting. Part of him feels guilt.
Sleepily, Yoochun pulls the sheet up higher on Junsu's waist. "Wake Min up," he murmurs, eyes closing slightly. "He'll tell you a story." There's no sarcasm in the words, just tiredness, dragging him down.
Junsu's cheeks flare. "Go back to sleep," he advises, taking comfort in the gentle touch to his skin. Waking them up is the last thing on his mind.
Yoochun’s arm slides around his waist, something in the words visibly unsettling him, even through anger and exhaustion. "C'mere if you're cold."
It's all the encouragement that's needed. Invisible shackles release agile limbs that wrap around Yoochun's, pulling him as tight as can be. To suffocate in a lover's arms, that's the way he wants to die. Painful clarity accompanies the thought and he only tightens his hold at the underlying truth. What are the odds, right?
Yoochun swallows, eyes closed, fingers between the other man's shoulder blades. "You're shaking."
"Yeah. I know." Junsu doesn't know why or how or what's going on. It doesn't matter. It's dark enough in the room for it not to matter. "I can't seem to stop."
Yoochun dips his head to find his mouth in the darkness, brushing the edge of his upper lip. "I can tell you a story if you like. Or I can just listen."
Junsu shakes his head slightly, but he's not disagreeing. He doesn't know what he's doing. "I like to hear you talk," he admits into soft dark hair, trembling.
Yoochun holds him close, darting the tip of his tongue against Junsu's philtrum, another butterfly kiss to the dark smudge of his eyebrow. Junsu feels so damn small in his arms and it makes something clench in his chest.
"I used to live by the sea," he starts softly, stroking the nape of the other man's neck. "In the north of the Great Continent. Jaejoong and I would watch the waves break on the rocks through the windows during lessons. He was such a dreamer then, still believed that there were people who lived in the corals, small and fey and only visible to those who believed in them. Children's stories, but he didn't doubt them for a moment."
A soft smile graces his features. "He would try to get me to skip lessons to go to the beach. Make up all of these offerings we had to bring them, so they would like us and take us under the sea with them. His schoolbag would be weighed down with rocks and mud dolls and shells he found in the sand. We never saw them, though, no matter how many offerings we threw into the waves. It didn't change his mind."
Junsu smiles into the night. "I wish I'd known you when you were young. I would've followed Jaejoong like an idiot..." A soft grin. "Like you." It's a surprisingly uplifting image, even with the things he's seen and done on Elysia. It's not all bad. Nothing in life is.
Another, foreign hand trails up his back and into his hair. Yunho.
"That wouldn't have been so easy," he whispers and the air ripples over Junsu's nape like the wind he hasn't felt since they left Elysia. "You can't swim."
Yoochun hooks a leg behind Junsu's knee, the other man's voice warm on his skin, even as it raises his hackles. Now isn't the time. Now is about Junsu. "He can sit on the rocks," he murmurs, brushing their lips together. "Or we could teach you. Wade into the shallow pools and find sea snails."
"Always wanted to learn how to swim," Junsu sighs, comfortable with their bodies pressed up against him. "Not much sea on Piraeus..."
"Just a lot of beautiful fields," Yunho finishes, twisting his words. Not that he minds. Yunho knows. He understands. Probably. Straight, chopped nails that are probably in accordance with the annals of Guard regulations, scratch his back gently, too gently for marks. They stop when they hit Yoochun's arm still wrapped around his waist. Junsu holds his breath.
Yoochun doesn't pull away, but he doesn't press closer. Yunho angers him like none of the others. He's not sure he even knows why. "We'll go back," he says softly. "You can see the beauty that's still hidden there. I've missed seeing Jaejoong act like a child." A quiet kiss to a high cheekbone. "The two of you would be so beautiful together."
Another shudder courses through Junsu, unbidden, unjustified. It feels a little like a caress from a ghost and though he can't see Yunho's eyes over his shoulder, he's sure they're focused on Yoochun's, a silent question in them. He's fine. He just can't make them believe it.
Instead of sleep, Yoochun's story has awoken a longing he didn't know he still felt. He kisses Yoochun to forget it again. He kisses roughly, because maybe acting like a man will make him forget what it felt like to be a child and helpless.
Yoochun kisses back evenly, something sinking in his stomach, reaching to brush his fingertips over the firm muscle of Yunho's arm. It's a plea for help and he hates it, but his pride will take a back seat to Junsu's well-being.
There's no nod of understanding, but Yunho moves closer, fitting his body to Junsu's, angling his pelvis so that cold skin may be warmed in the embrace. His fingers are gentle but purposeful when he slips them around the younger man's body, stroking and holding him back. Rash impetus isn't Junsu's usual reaction to arousal and he's still soft now. Whatever is up isn't lust or love. It's reason enough to be concerned.
Yoochun breaks the kiss after a moment, keeping their lips close, clutching his shoulder. "Su-ah. Baby. What's wrong?"
Junsu's smile is so, so painfully absent and the fact sits like lead in his stomach.
"Don't know." He shrugs, but it's not meaningless. "I'm sorry." Yunho would tell him not to be sorry, but to be careful. To be better. To be smarter, next time.
What if there is no next time?
A portside explosion rattles the small craft like an earthquake and flashbacks are numerous for Junsu. But he's a pilot. Pilots don't lose their heads in times of crisis.
"Shit," Yoochun hisses, sitting straight up as Yunho and Junsu scramble out of bed, tugging on clothes. He shakes Changmin awake, the alarms that are beginning to blare startling Jaejoong into consciousness. Yoochun can't help the hand that hovers briefly at the small of Junsu's back, steadying him as he tugs on boots, hurrying towards the deck.
Another hit blocks their door closed for a few unbearable moments. Memories of being trapped flood Junsu's mind, but he doesn't scream or claw at the walls like he might've done years ago. The Guard kicked off all such bad habits. He clutches Yoochun's hand instead.
Yunho manages to open it with patience that no one else seems to possess. Changmin's the first to follow him out. No one begrudges him for it.
"Do you think it's a Guard ship, do you think they've found us?"
Changmin shakes his head quickly. "Not Guard. They'd overwhelm with manpower, follow protocol. This is too quick and dirty." Even as the words leave his mouth, he looks to Yunho for confirmation.
"They wouldn't try to be so precise," comes the decisive reply.
If the Guard knows deserters and rebels were hiding aboard the Cerberus, they wouldn't waste tactical decision-making time on targeting any specific part of the ship. Yunho can't help think they'd just be blasted into oblivion and their names dragged through the mud even more than they've undoubtedly been already.
No. The Cerberus is being hit portside. That means engines, that means someone wants to force them to stick around for pillaging or possibly worse. His men don't need to hear the bad news.
"Whatever it is, it's a chance to practice manning guns and flying at the same time." Yunho smiles, but it's tight, the catwalk shaking under their feet as they run to their crafts. They've trained for this. He'd like to think they're ready.
"You need a hobby," Yoochun forces out with a smirk, giving into the urge to clutch at Jaejoong's wrist. They skid to a stop at the end of the halls, the steel door to the hanger sealed, disgruntled crew members pacing and working at the door controls.
"What's going on?" Jaejoong demands.
"Bridge locked us out," one of the men shrugs. "Probably routing power to engines or something."
If it's that serious, it means their shields are down. It means they're fucked unless Jiexi lets them out.
Yunho snaps his fist into comsys. "You've got..."
Through crackling static that's anything but reassuring, Her Majesty sounds more than a little ruffled. "Negative. You're sitting this one out, Yunho."
"Why?"
Silence, then: "You're that eager to kill your former friends?"
Changmin shakes his head at that, snatching the com from Yunho's hand. "It's not Guard. We'd know if it was. And if you don't let us get to our fighters, it's no going to matter who it is."
Snarling at him for his insolent tone, Yoochun grabs his wrist, speaking into the comm. "Your Majesty, please, we need to get to the ships, mount a counterattack..."
Another hit and the connection is broken, but engines still fire up.
"She's going to run." Junsu's voice is a whisper.
Changmin growls, smacking his fist against the steel door in anger. "Goddammit." He hates being helpless. And stuck on a boat underfire without even the chance to fight back--it's about as helpless as a situation gets.
"Keep trying to open those doors!" Yunho bellows, uselessly, to the rest of the crew. "If they hit us, we'll need to fight." Retreat is the coward's way out, but that's hardly something he can say in front of those who worship the ground Empress Jiexi steps on. He'll never be among them, but he does love two men who are. It's enough to shut him up.
"If it's not Guard," Jaejoong interrupts his thoughts, frowning, accepting that he may know better. "Who'd want to take us out?"
Yunho shrugs. "Criminals, bounty hunters, mercenaries of every kind. We're kidding ourselves if we think we're safe in the black."
They're kidding themselves if they think, even for a moment, that they won't have to fight.
Jiexi wants a war; she's ripe to get one soon.