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Dec 29, 2007 12:57

Title: Acts of Insurrection (5/20)
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 the first part. We hope you enjoy this one!

Prequel: Acts of Contrition



Acts of Insurrection: One
; Two; Three; Four







Chapter Five

Where last night was comfort and warmth, the morning is a glare of sunlight, burning his skin before he can shift away in his sleep. He can feel it anyway, just as he can feel a strong arm fall on top of his, protecting him even in sleep. It's too hot to cuddle, but he doesn't draw away from the touch, letting it linger as much as it will. Which is to say, until Yoochun shakes him away, grave eyes and set expression. He's a different man.

"'Time is it?" Changmin breathes, trying to extricate himself from the sheets still tangled around his legs.

"Time to get up," the other man replies briskly, then, relenting, "800 hours. You have time to choke something down before we have to head to the docking port and start on repairs." He scrubs a hand over his eyes, a single slight crack in his blank demeanor. "The Empress wants us there in an hour."

Changmin wonders how the other man knows, if he's got some sixth sense poised and honed to the Empress' frequency, hearing her wants and dislikes, her whims and complying before they've had time to reach the rest of them. It's not so much a moral compass as it is a sonar dedicated to one woman's desires. Changmin tells himself he's not jealous even as he makes an effort to drag Yoochun down to the bed.

"Lie down five more minutes," he begs, too used to their lax schedules to remember his Guard training.

"Changmin-ah," Yoochuns sighs, allowing himself to be pulled down part of the way, resting his forehead against Changmin's carefully. "I know you and I know me. Five minutes will turn to ten, then to an hour and we'll end up never leaving this bed." He pulls back, palm resting against the younger man's cheek before standing. "Come on."

Junsu seems to agree, sleepily nodding into his shoulder where he stifles a long yawn, before shifting away and taking Changmin's shade with him.

His last argument dies in his throat, hissing as he shifts out of the glare of sunlight. "Where's Jaejoong?" he asks, sitting up and searching for his clothes, discarded on the floor after a night's passion.

"Still showering," comes the answer, the older man's hair still damp and curling slightly at the edge of his ears. There's something guarded in his gaze that Changmin can't quite make out, and it bothers him. A few short months or no, he's come to recognize when Yoochun is pulling away from them. Has come to understand it almost always centers around Jaejoong. He wishes on occasion that he could stop Yoochun from worrying, but knows it's a lost cause.

Instead, Changmin merely nods. "Yunho?"

"Downstairs." Because even if they've all forgotten the strict discipline of the Imperial Guard, Yunho lives it--would live it even if the world was ending. He's the first to wake and so plugged-in that Changmin sometimes wishes he could stop his mind from running over plans and ideas and tactics. He wishes for a lot of things these days. He can afford to.

Dragging himself out of bed with Yoochun's hand in his, pulling him up, he slaps Junsu's thigh playfully. "Get up. Jaejoong's all alone in the shower."

Junsu can't help but laugh at that, the sound sleepy and thick. "You're insatiable, Min-ah."

Yoochun shakes his head, grabbing Changmin about the waist, a match for the younger man in strength if not height. "Not a chance. Yunho will have my head if you three make us late."

For all his resistance and stern following of the Empress's commands, Yoochun still kisses heatedly and fast, the bruising force as good as any wake-up call. Better, even. Behind them, Junsu makes a tiny sound of protest or desire, sitting up amid soiled sheets.

"Shouldn't we wait for sundown again?" he asks, seeking to persuade even though he knows the decision's been taken. It's been a while since they've had a full twenty-four hours' worth of uninterrupted downtime.

Yoochun pushes Min's hair out of his eyes, sending him none too gently in the direction of clean clothing, crawling over the bed to leave a sucking bite on Junsu's neck. After a moment, he moves back to sit on his heels. "The sooner repairs are finished, the sooner you're off this rock and back in the black, Su-ah. Climate control to your heart’s content."

He knows the other man is exhausted, can see it etched in the lines of Junsu's face, but sacrifices must be made in order to better serve the Empress. In exchange for his concern, he receives a half-smile and a chuckle that doesn't mean either yes or no. Still, Junsu stands, opting for the washbasin rather than the shower. Soaking his arms, he hesitates, looking as if he wants to say something before he shakes his head. Yoochun thinks nothing of it. Junsu is full of contradictions and half-formed thoughts.

Jaejoong always says it's adorable in a voice that would be better suited when talking about some small furry animal or a child. Junsu is neither. Jaejoong isn't deterred.

The door to the washroom opens, Jaejoong emerging through a cloud of steam, a towel knotted low on his hips. Glossy back hair cascades over his shoulders, and Yoochun could swear the other man does it entirely on purpose, even when he knows he isn't. His lover knows he's attractive, knows how to use it to his advantage. But Yoochun believes whole-heartedly that he has no real idea of how striking he is.

"Didn't Yunho say something about waking them up?" he grins, water drying on his skin as he steps around Junsu to get to his scattered clothes.

"We're up!" the younger man protests, making a half-hearted attempt to slap his thighs but catching only air. Jaejoong smirks, moving behind Junsu to wrap his arms around the other man's waist, kissing the nape of his neck.

"Jaejoong," Yoochun protests, "you aren't helping."

His lover arches an eyebrow in his direction. "I'm not under orders to play leader while Yunho's away."

Changmin intervenes, clad only in his pants and still barefoot on the heated wooden floors. "But apparently we're all under orders to hurry. Or Yunho'll do something messy and painful to Yoochun." He smirks, grabbing his tanktop from the back of a chair. Not that he remembers how it got there.

Yoochun wrinkles his nose. "And I won't even enjoy it."

"You always say that," Jaejoong chuckles, pressing his lips to a red mark on Junsu's shoulder. He has a feeling he knows whose lips left it there, but he won't say. It doesn't matter; he belongs to all of them. Disengaging after a long moment, he goes to dress, discarding the towel to the floor. Nudity is second nature when they're together. And it doesn't always have to be sexual. It just often is.

Just as Changmin often averts his eyes rather than stare straight at him, like Yoochun does, shaking his head. "I can't even argue with you!"

He gets a beatific smile in return.

Despite one another's antics and a thwarted attempt by Changmin to crawl back under the sheets, they are dressed and clomping down the tavern stairs not twenty minutes later, just as Yunho starts to climb them. They meet him halfway, a hesitant smile flickering over Yoochun's lips.

"That little trust?" he says lightly, trying to ignore the duality in the words. They're past shades of meaning and double speak now. They have to be.

Yunho smiles, but his jaw is set. "I wasn't sure they didn't drag you back to bed. I know what they're like."

Something dark lingers in his gaze, but Yoochun knows it's not directed at him. It can't be. His heart strangely beating faster than it should, he wraps an arm around Yunho's shoulders. "They tried. Changmin deserves a spanking for being a bad boy."

Unsurprisingly, what he gets for that is a kick in the hip from behind. "Liar."

It startles a small laugh out of Yunho, much to his relief, even as he tightens his hold on the other man incrementally. Just to make sure. Smiling up at Yunho, he pretends to ignore Changmin behind him. "A hard one, too. Maybe with that nice wide belt of yours."

"Or we could just use it for a gag," Junsu chimes in, giggling behind a hand that's all Jaejoong. It's funny how many gestures he's picked up from all of them.

"Well, there was one time..." Jaejoong begins as they slide onto chairs around an empty table, the innkeeper reduced to waiting on his last clients despite the dark circles under his eyes.

"And if you want to live to see breakfast, you'll halt that story right there, Kim," Yoochun threatens, propping his feet up on Junsu's lap.

Changmin's wide eyes are full of interest, but he doesn't press. They're all hungry and too used to rations to even taste fresh food anymore. Devouring it quickly, he's acutely aware of Yunho's steady gaze, straight ahead, as if barely seeing, as if barely there. Jaejoong brushes his knuckles with his own, nodding slightly towards their left, towards the former Captain.

Changmin shrugs slightly but keeps a smile in place. They're safe on Elysia. They're safe now.

Breakfast is light, banter spoken around mouthfuls of food and drink, manners and propriety left by the wayside. Each in their own way, they attempt to keep Yunho focused in the here and now. Jaejoong through light touches, Junsu's bright smiles and Yoochun's obnoxious anecdotes. Changmin just watches him quietly, ignoring the pit of worry settling in his stomach.

It's Junsu who settles their bill, using credits the Empress acquired through means they know nothing about but which can't possibly be legal. An eternity ago, he might have felt some spot of concern for breaking the law. These days, his very existence is against Imperial law. He finds he can't give less of a shit.

Outside, in the shadow of the inn, Junsu pouts until Yoochun dutifully makes room for him at the controls of the landspeeder. He loves to drive and they all know it. They make whatever allowances are possible, when it's possible, while having the courtesy to pretend they're not doing him any favors. It keeps the peace and the illusion of hard edges when between the sheets, when the lights are all out, they're nothing but softness and warmth.

They are halfway to the docking site when a message comes across on the comsys. It's a reassignment order. Junsu frowns as he listens to instructions being rattled off, orders for him to rendezvous with traders for parts at the secondary dock. Yoochun shoots him a questioning look. Junsu shrugs. It's known amongst all of them that he's the most adept at mechanics and engineering--a lifetime of preparation for failed dreams coming in handy.

Yunho doesn't try to interject, to have it out with Jiexi as he so often does, regardless of what the rest of the crew thinks. His silence is more source of concern than the Empress' demands though, so Junsu doesn't linger on the former.

"I'll drop you off," he tells the others, unsurprised to find Jaejoong's hand in the collar of his shirt, drawing out the chain within. It once sported dogtags. Even empty, he still wears it.

He tries not to let the other man's touch distract him. It's one thing to be affectionate; it's another to go headlong into a tree at this speed. The dock looms up ahead of them, the clearing stretching around the massive structure, thick foliage only revealing it seconds before they come up on it.

Here's where Jaejoong was shot. Here's where he and Yunho were locked up. Here's also where they found Changmin.

"Want company?" the younger man asks, hesitating as the others hop out, Yunho ahead of them all, purposeful and intent. Something's up and Junsu doesn't want to know.

He shakes his head. "I'll catch you later."

Junsu waits until he can't see them anymore before turning the small craft around, heading towards the rendezvous point, idly wondering what they can possibly need him for that their mechanics can't handle. Of course, there's as good a chance that he's just being petulant about being cut off from the others. He's always been a bit too dependent.

Dense undergrowth surrounds the now-old secondary dock. The Cerberus won't be there but other ships will. Scavengers and black market dealers sell parts that aren't always reusable. He can bet Jiexi has an eye for the cheap knockoffs and the defects even if she doesn't know jack shit about fixing her boat. That's what she's got him and the others for. Junsu keeps his eyes on the road and his thoughts to himself.

At least until he sees a figure waiting in the shade of the hangar. He slows down expectantly.

"You dealing with the Cerberus?" he calls, that strange, uneasy feeling creeping back through his veins. Shaking it off, he nevertheless lets a hand fall to his holster. Something like recognition sparks when he sees crimson hair glint in the meagre sunlight that makes it through the canopy. The man from the tavern.

"Yes. I’m from the Andromeda," the same melodious voice carries to him on the wind and he can practically feel the lingering sensuality. In another life, Junsu can't help think, Jaejoong and this man could've been brothers. "I'm supposed to be waiting for Her Majesty's man… Hoped it might be you."

The second time he's been referred to as such, and true though it may be, it still irks him. "I'm flattered." And if for nothing else than to get him to drop the title, he hurries to add: "Please, I prefer Junsu." He cuts the engine and jumps to the ground, a cloud of dust rising as he hits the dirt. A hand comes out to drag him into the shade. It's delicate and pale like a woman's. He expected something coarser, for some reason. He's seen Jaejoong's fingers darkened by oil oft enough.

"Junsu," the man repeats with a strange, detached smile. "I like that. Nice name."

It sends shivers down his spine.

An uneasy smile. "I'm not familiar with Outer Rim customs, but I think this is the part where you tell me yours."

"Didn't I tell you last night?" the man asks, genuinely surprised. "I was sure I did. So bad of me..." He shakes his head, but offers no answer. "We should go inside, I hate this heat."

"I hear you," Junsu returns with forced levity, taking his hand back and dropping it to his side. Hovering over his gun without looking like that's what he's in fact doing. Just a precaution. "Just direct me to the parts we have to dig through and I'm in my element."

A soft, delicate nod. "Come on in." And he pushes open the door, still nameless, but Junsu is too fucking hot to care and too desperate to get back to the others as soon as he can. He doesn't wait for his companion to go first.

It's a rookie mistake.

It allows those same, feminine hands to pull a taser from the cloak of long sleeves, jamming the prongs between the shorter man's shoulder blades. The shock is sharp and quick, a high voltage coursing through his limbs like needles and fire and he doesn't know what comes next.

Junsu falls to the ground, his hand burned where it touches the side of a metal wall.

Vision spinning, he feels his body being turned over, cold eyes burning into his own. He tries to speak, tries to reach for his gun but is paralyzed, limp as a dead fish. Lips part in a final attempt at a plea, before the spark jams itself into his ribs, body twitching and jerking helplessly, until at last, he falls into black.
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