(no subject)
Title: Dune (6/8)
Authors:
butterflyweb and
nemesis_cry
Genre: Sci Fi, AU to our "Acts" AU
Rating: R to NC-17
Pairing: Yunho/Yoochun
Summary: Enemies as members of opposing factions, they have to fight to survive as they are landed in unusual circumstances
Warnings: swearing, violence and sexual themes.
AN: Inspired by the premise of Barry B. Longyear's Enemy Mine.
AN2: Not a formal part of our multi-chaptered Acts of Contrition and Acts of Insurrection storyline but using elements of both.
Chapter 1; 2; 3; 4; 5
Waking up is hard, Yoochun finds, curling in on himself slightly, and painful. He takes as deep a breath as he can, pressing his forehead against the reasonably cool floor of the skiff, arms wound miserably around his stomach.
"Gods..." he breathes with a wince, squeezing his eyes shut as a particularly vicious stab of pain makes itself known in his belly. The hard angles of Yunho's elbows dig into his back but it's a momentary distraction as he leans into it, remembering the previous night's awkwardness.
"Yunho," he calls out, trying to roll over but finding he can't. Another cramp twists in his gut, much like a knife and he thinks of all the possible ways to die on a desert planet, of how far down the line this must be. "Wake up, Yunho," he tries again.
The man stirs at his side but there is no response. Hissing in pain and frustration, he tries once again to say the other man's name but all that comes out is a jagged moan, ground from between his teeth.
"Please..."
Movement beside him, and his name on the other man's lips, a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't know... pain, in my stomach," he grits out, curled and tense and too far gone to care about how weak he must look, last night included. "Fuck... hurts."
Yunho presses a hand to his forehead and it's ice. "You're running a fever."
The touch feels soothing against his hot face and he leans into it unwittingly, his own harsh, stilted breaths in his ears. "It hurts," he repeats, uselessly, barely biting back on a plea for him to make it stop. He's not speaking to his mother or lover, just...he's not sure what Yunho is, anymore, but it doesn't matter. He's someone Yoochun has already lost face to so many times and the thought of how he must look makes the heat rising in his face all the warmer.
The other man's eyes are unreadable as he rushes to find the med kit and wrestle it open, purposeful hands pulling his own aside. Yoochun can't help note he seems to know what he's doing. Figures the Guard would prepare them to pose as doctors, if need be. He's heard the stories, he knows they have spies.
He doesn't care anymore.
"Show me," Yunho commands and forces his knees down. He immediately tries to curl back up, can't stand the position he's put into, hurts too much, it--"Stop," he pleads, trying to pull free of the other man's grasp, eyes shut tightly. "Gods, stop, it hurts..."
Something must make the other man listen because he draws back, helping him up half against his will. "Sit up. Can you tell me where it hurts?"
"My stomach," he chokes, and he's going to split his lip biting it this hard but every time he moves, it gets worse and worse...He grabs Yunho's hand, pressing it over the twisting-knife sensation. "There." Yunho's hand replaces his own a moment later, pressing slowly just as the man forces him to lean his back against him. Teeth clenched and groaning in pain, Yoochun hopes there's a point to it all.
"Your stomach's hard as a rock," he hears muttered into his ear, concern too obvious to mistake the comment for a compliment. A canteen is pressed into his hand. "Try to drink this."
"Water's... going to help?"
"No."
But he's in too much pain to try to figure it out and so he simply obeys, raising the canteen to his lips and trying to choke down the warm water against the whimpers and bile rising in his throat. He gets down as much as he can, leaning his head back against Yunho's shoulder dizzily. "You're right," he grits out, something almost like a laugh catching in his chest. "Didn't help."
"You're dehydrated," Yunho points out, sighing but sounding far from put upon. His arms under his pull him to his feet. "You have to purge," comes the dreaded decision, Yunho turning him towards the hole in the cockpit. "Come on, there's no other way."
He pushes him forward and Yoochun grips the side of the craft, wanting to protest, but both the pain in his stomach and Yunho are insistent and so he gives up, taking a couple of deep breaths before sticking his fingers as far as he can down his throat and vomiting. A hand rubs his back soothingly, his fingers clenching the side of the cockpit.
"Come on, again."
He does so even as he feels his legs threaten to give, reduced to following orders and not much else besides. His throat feels raw, bile and tears tasting just as bitter when he finds himself sobbing against the pain and the lightheadedness, the horror of being so weak.
Hands press against his stomach, searching, soothing and he slumps into their grasp. "Okay," he hears. "You're okay."
He feels himself being lowered to the floor gently, the blanket being pulled over him and he closes his eyes, dizzy and exhausted and hurting. A cool hand smooths over his forehead. "You're okay," comes the reassurance once again and Yoochun nods weakly.
"Hate that," he whispers, the words harsh in his abused throat. "Haven't made myself do that in years..."
"No one likes it," Yunho smiles above him, tilting a canteen to his lips with uncharacteristic gentleness--at least Yoochun assumes it's not characteristic. He doesn't know anymore, doesn't know what to expect from this man who's supposed to be trying to kill not save him. "Why did you do it before?" he asks, making conversation as he pours water into his hand and runs it over Yoochun's perspiring cheeks and chest.
The cool water feels nice, the touch more so. He lets his eyes fall closed, trying to focus on the question long enough to answer it. "Didn't like the taste of them. It made me sick still, sometimes, even after I got used to it."
Kind hands hesitate slightly before pulling the blanket over him and pinning it down to still his shivering. "I don't understand... The taste of whom?"
He breathes through chattering teeth, moving into warm arms even when he knows he shouldn't. "Men... in the city. Paid me. Fifty for hand, sixty for mouth. Sometimes they paid extra."
There is silence from the other man, the arms around him tense and unyielding. Yoochun shivers, clenching a hand in the other man's shirt, trying to reassure him.
"It's okay. It's okay now. She saved me."
***
He falls asleep with his arms around the rebel, another day wasted behind them. It's only in his most private thoughts that he dares admit how afraid he is, how much he dreads something happening to Yoochun. Worse still, he's starting to think it's not just because they're alone here and have to survive together.
Bare flesh stirs against his own, waking him easily. They've shed clothes in an effort to let body heat do its worst in warming the younger man, though Yunho's taking pains to be as careful as he can around him. His confession still rings through his mind.
"Men... paid me."
He can still see the other's wide eyes and confused features as he'd tried to return the previous night's ministrations. "This isn't how it's supposed to go."
The thought makes him sick.
"Yoochun?" he murmurs, trying to gauge if the other is awake, but he isn't met with a reply. He wonders if it's cowardly that he's relieved.
There's nothing sexual in being beside him like this, he tells himself. They're just trying to keep warm. He doesn't think he can think of Yoochun as a lover any more than he can think of him as an enemy. Somewhere along the line, things changed.
Yoochun stirs in his arms, shivering as he drags him further on top of his lithe, thin body, the ribs already showing. Yunho lets out a long breath he didn't know he was holding. "I'm not going to hurt you like that," he whispers into the curve of a strong shoulder. "I promise."
The words feel damning to his ears as they seem to echo in the small space, but he can't help them. Letting out a harsh breath, he tries to relax, tries to put the dark circles around the other man's eyes out of his mind as well as the darker past they betray. It's not so easy.
"Yunho... you're crushing me," he hears, soft words pressed into his ear like kisses.
He draws back sheepishly, annoyed with himself and his own treacherous thoughts. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." His smile is poor cover for the worries he carries, all the things he now imagines of Yoochun. It's not belittling the other man, it's giving him a life before they crashed here, a life before they were enemies. "Go back to sleep," he adds, trying to shift his weight away from the other's body.
He doesn't get far, Yoochun's arms winding around him like snakes. "Stay," the other murmurs, sleep thick in his voice, the rest of the words blurring into something intelligible. Yunho hesitates, but nods, settling back down and being careful to avoid putting his full weight on the slighter man.
"Alright. I am. Go to sleep now." The other nods, eyes slipping closed once more as his breathing slowly evens.
Yunho watches him for a long time after that, thinking about losing him, thinking about everything he's come to feel. "I promise," he mouths one final time and settles his ear above the other's heart.
***
Yoochun wakes to the sound of winds shaking the craft, rocking it like a cradle but a thousand times more dangerous than upsetting the baby inside. Dragging the blanket down from his shoulders, he shakes Yunho's shoulder.
"Get up. Get up, Yunho, there's a storm." No sooner are the words out of his mouth that the hole in the cockpit gets flooded with sand.
It wakes the other man instantly, the both of them choking on the rough grains, struggling to block the hole. "Fuck," Yoochun spits, feeling his head spin as he moves too quickly for his weakened body, grasping at the edge of the blanket. "I fucking hate this place."
"Join the club," Yunho grins, amused for some incredible, illogical reason, working the blanket off the ground to fasten it to the roof. "Relax. We're high up from the ground and we're safe. It could be worse."
It startles a laugh out of Yoochun against his will, holding the blanket up as Yunho secures it. Maybe it's the fever. He shakes his head. "You have to knock on something now."
Yunho shoots him a look.
"No, seriously. You have to knock or you'll have just screwed us both by saying that. Do it."
"How old are you?" the other man sighs but dutifully knocks on the side of the craft twice. "That's obviously superstition."
Yoochun shrugs, sitting down as his knees threaten to give out under him. "Twenty-three," he answers on a harsh exhale, ignoring the arm that shoots out to help him for both their sakes. "And don't knock my beliefs."
Calloused palms rise in defense but a smirk curls his lips. "Even if they don't make any sense?"
"Especially then." Yoochun glares weakly at him. "That's why they're beliefs. Logic has nothing to do with it."
Yunho rolls his eyes but lets it go. "Feeling any better?" he asks after a long moment, leaning his back against the wall.
"Still..." he tilts his hand from side to side. "But not like, you know, something burrowed in my stomach and was trying to claw its way out." Yoochun shakes his head, listening to the rage of the storm overhead and drawing small circles in the sand on the floor. Strange how this suddenly feels awkward, behind the uneasiness and lingering sick. "Sorry to make you play nursemaid. Who knew snake eggs don't keep?"
"Don't worry about it," Yunho shrugs, his boot kicking Yoochun's lightly. "I threw away the rest. We'll know for the future."
"You know, this is the most optimistic I've seen you in a month." He leans forward on impulse, pressing a hand to Yunho's forehead. "Feeling alright?"
It's smacked aside with pretend-annoyance, the other man pushing a canteen towards him. "Shut up."
Yoochun can't be sure, but he thinks he spies a smile tugging at the Guard's lips. It fills him with warmth.
***
He can't be certain how it happens. Only that there is the warm of Yoochun's hand on his skin and the roar of the winds outside and then he has him pressed to the side of the cockpit, covering full lips with his own. He tries to be gentle--no matter what the other says, Yoochun looks like he could be knocked over with a feather--but he can't help the twist of his fingers in the other's hair.
Lips meet loudly in the small space, bodies pressed close and heaving with harsh breaths and uneven heart rates. "Want you," Yoochun whispers, biting his neck. "Please." His hands pull at Yunho's shoulders, growing nails leaving red scratches but it's far from painful.
Yunho hisses his accord, knowing how easy it is to get lost in the other man's touch. He covers thin hips with his palms, a buried part of him wanting to know why now? What's changed? He's beginning to realize that he really doesn't understand anything and gradually accepting it.
Strong arms slide around a bare waist, pulling Yoochun flush against him, letting out a low groan as the other man hooks a leg behind his. It brings their hips into sudden, gratifying contact and he has to steady himself with a hand against the cockpit wall.
"Fuck...me..."
Yoochun smirks against his chin, drawing back to meet his gaze. "If you'd like..."
He thinks of protesting but there's a challenge in those soft dark eyes and Yunho never backs down. Least of all when he wants something as much as this. His breath is short and it eludes him, drifting through the rocking craft much too loudly.
"You don't..."
A finger over Yoochun's lips stops the words before they're fully formed. Yunho pulls back, slipping a hand down to undo his trousers. Yoochun's breath is harsh and stilted against the palm of his hand and Yunho shudders, working his pants off of his hips and further down, eyes locked on Yoochun's. "How do you want me?"
"Lie down beside me," he asks, swallowing heavily. "But I don't have... anything." It's going to be painful, he means and Yunho knows it. As with everything else on this planet, they'll have to make do.
He nods, stealing one last kiss before shifting to turn his back to Yoochun, a hand wrapping around his own erection to stave off anxiety. A hand strokes down his side, soft lips pressing against the nape of his neck, sensing his hesitation and trying to soothe.
"I'll go slow," the other man whispers, his breath warm on Yunho's skin. "I won't hurt you like that. I promise."
His own words, parroted back at him and Yunho inhales sharply, closing his eyes as shame heats his face. But Yoochun's soft touches don't cease, the passion between them slowed to a low, burning ache. He finds comfort in it, the tender spell lulling him into placing unusual trust in the other man. He hopes someday it'll be returned. For now, he's content with what he has. Almost, at least.
The hand on his hip slips over his back, rubbing slow, gentle circles and he has to slow down his own movements before he comes from the teasing strokes. "Yoochun," he starts, impatient before he feels a digit press into his opening. "Please..."
A wet, sucking bite at the curve of his shoulder and, "Stay with me," the finger slides deeper inside him, a grimace twisting his features as he tries to get used to the invasion, tensing muscles eased by the spray of kisses that shower his spine. The other man is breathing quickly, too quickly, each pant warm and damp against bare skin.
Yunho exhales loudly, trying to recover his bearings when Yoochun's questing finger presses deep inside, searching and finding the places that make him moan the loudest as if he knows his body well enough already. "Keep..." he trails off, his laughter slightly choked, "keep doing that and I'll stay forever." It's on the level of romantic bullshit, but he can't imagine why he says it. He's not trying to get Yoochun into bed with him, that's already done. Another press of a finger tip and he forgets to care.
The third burns, a muted gasp of pain falling from his lips though he tries to stifle it, Yoochun hooking a leg around his, lips close to his ear and movements stilling. "Sorry, I'm sorry, just relax...I've got you..." It sounds suspiciously like 'I'll take care of you' and he surprises even himself when the thought eases his tension, letting Yoochun move in him, bring his pleasure back and to a peak.
"Need you," he allows himself to gasp out in a moment of weakness, forgetting to be firm and strong. His lover's touch is gentle but relentless, driving him too close before finally stopping. If not for his harsh breaths on Yunho's neck, it would seem he's fine and composed. But his hand shakes when it takes a hold of Yunho's hip, stilling it in preparation.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he's whispering already, fingers digging into the skin as if he's the one in pain. A short thrust later and they're both crying out, connected in the most intimate way possible.
He can taste copper in his mouth, his tongue throbbing distantly but it's all secondary to the feeling of Yoochun inside him. Yunho doesn't consider himself a sentimental man. Just the thought shouldn't do what it does to him. A warm hand strokes the flat of his stomach, curling around his erection. He's softened slightly from the unwelcome pain but Yoochun brings him back to the edge with deep, certain strokes, unmoving inside him even though Yunho knows he must want to.
"I'm not going to last if you keep doing that," he whispers into the curve of Yoochun's jaw, feeling stubble scratch his lips. The hand on his cock doesn't still, but it does slow, its rhythm sharp counterpoint to the bite of Yoochun's lips over his shoulder.
The other's hips shift forward, silencing him with a low gasp. "That makes two of us," he hears whispered into his ear, the words soft if not wholly unaffected. "Gods, Yunho, feels so good."
A sharp, stilted nod, focusing on Yoochun's touch, on the press of the other man along his spine. Until there's another, small thrust forward and Yoochun brushes that place inside him, leaving him groaning with surprise and pleasure.
They move together, Yoochun's arm wrapping around his waist in a half hold that feels entirely too good to be just sex. Yunho fights it for as long as he can, reaching back a hand to lay on Yoochun's hip. "Come inside me... please..."
He hears the sharp exhale of the other's breath, fingers clenching against his hip and as if by his sheer will, Yoochun does, flooding him with warm and wet as the other groans in his ear, a choked noise almost like a sobs as relaxes into Yunho. The hand on his length moves with renewed purpose, liquid syllables spoken into his hair and he'll have to get Yoochun to tell him what they---
Back arching against the other man, he spills his release over rough hands, eyes shut tight.
Later. He'll find time for it later.
***
Weeks later, when the feel of their naked bodies pressed together under the warm blanket has become habit, Yoochun wakes to the sound of ships flying overhead.
Everything changes.
Authors:
butterflyweb and
nemesis_cry
Genre: Sci Fi, AU to our "Acts" AU
Rating: R to NC-17
Pairing: Yunho/Yoochun
Summary: Enemies as members of opposing factions, they have to fight to survive as they are landed in unusual circumstances
Warnings: swearing, violence and sexual themes.
AN: Inspired by the premise of Barry B. Longyear's Enemy Mine.
AN2: Not a formal part of our multi-chaptered Acts of Contrition and Acts of Insurrection storyline but using elements of both.
Chapter 1; 2; 3; 4; 5
Waking up is hard, Yoochun finds, curling in on himself slightly, and painful. He takes as deep a breath as he can, pressing his forehead against the reasonably cool floor of the skiff, arms wound miserably around his stomach.
"Gods..." he breathes with a wince, squeezing his eyes shut as a particularly vicious stab of pain makes itself known in his belly. The hard angles of Yunho's elbows dig into his back but it's a momentary distraction as he leans into it, remembering the previous night's awkwardness.
"Yunho," he calls out, trying to roll over but finding he can't. Another cramp twists in his gut, much like a knife and he thinks of all the possible ways to die on a desert planet, of how far down the line this must be. "Wake up, Yunho," he tries again.
The man stirs at his side but there is no response. Hissing in pain and frustration, he tries once again to say the other man's name but all that comes out is a jagged moan, ground from between his teeth.
"Please..."
Movement beside him, and his name on the other man's lips, a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't know... pain, in my stomach," he grits out, curled and tense and too far gone to care about how weak he must look, last night included. "Fuck... hurts."
Yunho presses a hand to his forehead and it's ice. "You're running a fever."
The touch feels soothing against his hot face and he leans into it unwittingly, his own harsh, stilted breaths in his ears. "It hurts," he repeats, uselessly, barely biting back on a plea for him to make it stop. He's not speaking to his mother or lover, just...he's not sure what Yunho is, anymore, but it doesn't matter. He's someone Yoochun has already lost face to so many times and the thought of how he must look makes the heat rising in his face all the warmer.
The other man's eyes are unreadable as he rushes to find the med kit and wrestle it open, purposeful hands pulling his own aside. Yoochun can't help note he seems to know what he's doing. Figures the Guard would prepare them to pose as doctors, if need be. He's heard the stories, he knows they have spies.
He doesn't care anymore.
"Show me," Yunho commands and forces his knees down. He immediately tries to curl back up, can't stand the position he's put into, hurts too much, it--"Stop," he pleads, trying to pull free of the other man's grasp, eyes shut tightly. "Gods, stop, it hurts..."
Something must make the other man listen because he draws back, helping him up half against his will. "Sit up. Can you tell me where it hurts?"
"My stomach," he chokes, and he's going to split his lip biting it this hard but every time he moves, it gets worse and worse...He grabs Yunho's hand, pressing it over the twisting-knife sensation. "There." Yunho's hand replaces his own a moment later, pressing slowly just as the man forces him to lean his back against him. Teeth clenched and groaning in pain, Yoochun hopes there's a point to it all.
"Your stomach's hard as a rock," he hears muttered into his ear, concern too obvious to mistake the comment for a compliment. A canteen is pressed into his hand. "Try to drink this."
"Water's... going to help?"
"No."
But he's in too much pain to try to figure it out and so he simply obeys, raising the canteen to his lips and trying to choke down the warm water against the whimpers and bile rising in his throat. He gets down as much as he can, leaning his head back against Yunho's shoulder dizzily. "You're right," he grits out, something almost like a laugh catching in his chest. "Didn't help."
"You're dehydrated," Yunho points out, sighing but sounding far from put upon. His arms under his pull him to his feet. "You have to purge," comes the dreaded decision, Yunho turning him towards the hole in the cockpit. "Come on, there's no other way."
He pushes him forward and Yoochun grips the side of the craft, wanting to protest, but both the pain in his stomach and Yunho are insistent and so he gives up, taking a couple of deep breaths before sticking his fingers as far as he can down his throat and vomiting. A hand rubs his back soothingly, his fingers clenching the side of the cockpit.
"Come on, again."
He does so even as he feels his legs threaten to give, reduced to following orders and not much else besides. His throat feels raw, bile and tears tasting just as bitter when he finds himself sobbing against the pain and the lightheadedness, the horror of being so weak.
Hands press against his stomach, searching, soothing and he slumps into their grasp. "Okay," he hears. "You're okay."
He feels himself being lowered to the floor gently, the blanket being pulled over him and he closes his eyes, dizzy and exhausted and hurting. A cool hand smooths over his forehead. "You're okay," comes the reassurance once again and Yoochun nods weakly.
"Hate that," he whispers, the words harsh in his abused throat. "Haven't made myself do that in years..."
"No one likes it," Yunho smiles above him, tilting a canteen to his lips with uncharacteristic gentleness--at least Yoochun assumes it's not characteristic. He doesn't know anymore, doesn't know what to expect from this man who's supposed to be trying to kill not save him. "Why did you do it before?" he asks, making conversation as he pours water into his hand and runs it over Yoochun's perspiring cheeks and chest.
The cool water feels nice, the touch more so. He lets his eyes fall closed, trying to focus on the question long enough to answer it. "Didn't like the taste of them. It made me sick still, sometimes, even after I got used to it."
Kind hands hesitate slightly before pulling the blanket over him and pinning it down to still his shivering. "I don't understand... The taste of whom?"
He breathes through chattering teeth, moving into warm arms even when he knows he shouldn't. "Men... in the city. Paid me. Fifty for hand, sixty for mouth. Sometimes they paid extra."
There is silence from the other man, the arms around him tense and unyielding. Yoochun shivers, clenching a hand in the other man's shirt, trying to reassure him.
"It's okay. It's okay now. She saved me."
***
He falls asleep with his arms around the rebel, another day wasted behind them. It's only in his most private thoughts that he dares admit how afraid he is, how much he dreads something happening to Yoochun. Worse still, he's starting to think it's not just because they're alone here and have to survive together.
Bare flesh stirs against his own, waking him easily. They've shed clothes in an effort to let body heat do its worst in warming the younger man, though Yunho's taking pains to be as careful as he can around him. His confession still rings through his mind.
"Men... paid me."
He can still see the other's wide eyes and confused features as he'd tried to return the previous night's ministrations. "This isn't how it's supposed to go."
The thought makes him sick.
"Yoochun?" he murmurs, trying to gauge if the other is awake, but he isn't met with a reply. He wonders if it's cowardly that he's relieved.
There's nothing sexual in being beside him like this, he tells himself. They're just trying to keep warm. He doesn't think he can think of Yoochun as a lover any more than he can think of him as an enemy. Somewhere along the line, things changed.
Yoochun stirs in his arms, shivering as he drags him further on top of his lithe, thin body, the ribs already showing. Yunho lets out a long breath he didn't know he was holding. "I'm not going to hurt you like that," he whispers into the curve of a strong shoulder. "I promise."
The words feel damning to his ears as they seem to echo in the small space, but he can't help them. Letting out a harsh breath, he tries to relax, tries to put the dark circles around the other man's eyes out of his mind as well as the darker past they betray. It's not so easy.
"Yunho... you're crushing me," he hears, soft words pressed into his ear like kisses.
He draws back sheepishly, annoyed with himself and his own treacherous thoughts. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." His smile is poor cover for the worries he carries, all the things he now imagines of Yoochun. It's not belittling the other man, it's giving him a life before they crashed here, a life before they were enemies. "Go back to sleep," he adds, trying to shift his weight away from the other's body.
He doesn't get far, Yoochun's arms winding around him like snakes. "Stay," the other murmurs, sleep thick in his voice, the rest of the words blurring into something intelligible. Yunho hesitates, but nods, settling back down and being careful to avoid putting his full weight on the slighter man.
"Alright. I am. Go to sleep now." The other nods, eyes slipping closed once more as his breathing slowly evens.
Yunho watches him for a long time after that, thinking about losing him, thinking about everything he's come to feel. "I promise," he mouths one final time and settles his ear above the other's heart.
***
Yoochun wakes to the sound of winds shaking the craft, rocking it like a cradle but a thousand times more dangerous than upsetting the baby inside. Dragging the blanket down from his shoulders, he shakes Yunho's shoulder.
"Get up. Get up, Yunho, there's a storm." No sooner are the words out of his mouth that the hole in the cockpit gets flooded with sand.
It wakes the other man instantly, the both of them choking on the rough grains, struggling to block the hole. "Fuck," Yoochun spits, feeling his head spin as he moves too quickly for his weakened body, grasping at the edge of the blanket. "I fucking hate this place."
"Join the club," Yunho grins, amused for some incredible, illogical reason, working the blanket off the ground to fasten it to the roof. "Relax. We're high up from the ground and we're safe. It could be worse."
It startles a laugh out of Yoochun against his will, holding the blanket up as Yunho secures it. Maybe it's the fever. He shakes his head. "You have to knock on something now."
Yunho shoots him a look.
"No, seriously. You have to knock or you'll have just screwed us both by saying that. Do it."
"How old are you?" the other man sighs but dutifully knocks on the side of the craft twice. "That's obviously superstition."
Yoochun shrugs, sitting down as his knees threaten to give out under him. "Twenty-three," he answers on a harsh exhale, ignoring the arm that shoots out to help him for both their sakes. "And don't knock my beliefs."
Calloused palms rise in defense but a smirk curls his lips. "Even if they don't make any sense?"
"Especially then." Yoochun glares weakly at him. "That's why they're beliefs. Logic has nothing to do with it."
Yunho rolls his eyes but lets it go. "Feeling any better?" he asks after a long moment, leaning his back against the wall.
"Still..." he tilts his hand from side to side. "But not like, you know, something burrowed in my stomach and was trying to claw its way out." Yoochun shakes his head, listening to the rage of the storm overhead and drawing small circles in the sand on the floor. Strange how this suddenly feels awkward, behind the uneasiness and lingering sick. "Sorry to make you play nursemaid. Who knew snake eggs don't keep?"
"Don't worry about it," Yunho shrugs, his boot kicking Yoochun's lightly. "I threw away the rest. We'll know for the future."
"You know, this is the most optimistic I've seen you in a month." He leans forward on impulse, pressing a hand to Yunho's forehead. "Feeling alright?"
It's smacked aside with pretend-annoyance, the other man pushing a canteen towards him. "Shut up."
Yoochun can't be sure, but he thinks he spies a smile tugging at the Guard's lips. It fills him with warmth.
***
He can't be certain how it happens. Only that there is the warm of Yoochun's hand on his skin and the roar of the winds outside and then he has him pressed to the side of the cockpit, covering full lips with his own. He tries to be gentle--no matter what the other says, Yoochun looks like he could be knocked over with a feather--but he can't help the twist of his fingers in the other's hair.
Lips meet loudly in the small space, bodies pressed close and heaving with harsh breaths and uneven heart rates. "Want you," Yoochun whispers, biting his neck. "Please." His hands pull at Yunho's shoulders, growing nails leaving red scratches but it's far from painful.
Yunho hisses his accord, knowing how easy it is to get lost in the other man's touch. He covers thin hips with his palms, a buried part of him wanting to know why now? What's changed? He's beginning to realize that he really doesn't understand anything and gradually accepting it.
Strong arms slide around a bare waist, pulling Yoochun flush against him, letting out a low groan as the other man hooks a leg behind his. It brings their hips into sudden, gratifying contact and he has to steady himself with a hand against the cockpit wall.
"Fuck...me..."
Yoochun smirks against his chin, drawing back to meet his gaze. "If you'd like..."
He thinks of protesting but there's a challenge in those soft dark eyes and Yunho never backs down. Least of all when he wants something as much as this. His breath is short and it eludes him, drifting through the rocking craft much too loudly.
"You don't..."
A finger over Yoochun's lips stops the words before they're fully formed. Yunho pulls back, slipping a hand down to undo his trousers. Yoochun's breath is harsh and stilted against the palm of his hand and Yunho shudders, working his pants off of his hips and further down, eyes locked on Yoochun's. "How do you want me?"
"Lie down beside me," he asks, swallowing heavily. "But I don't have... anything." It's going to be painful, he means and Yunho knows it. As with everything else on this planet, they'll have to make do.
He nods, stealing one last kiss before shifting to turn his back to Yoochun, a hand wrapping around his own erection to stave off anxiety. A hand strokes down his side, soft lips pressing against the nape of his neck, sensing his hesitation and trying to soothe.
"I'll go slow," the other man whispers, his breath warm on Yunho's skin. "I won't hurt you like that. I promise."
His own words, parroted back at him and Yunho inhales sharply, closing his eyes as shame heats his face. But Yoochun's soft touches don't cease, the passion between them slowed to a low, burning ache. He finds comfort in it, the tender spell lulling him into placing unusual trust in the other man. He hopes someday it'll be returned. For now, he's content with what he has. Almost, at least.
The hand on his hip slips over his back, rubbing slow, gentle circles and he has to slow down his own movements before he comes from the teasing strokes. "Yoochun," he starts, impatient before he feels a digit press into his opening. "Please..."
A wet, sucking bite at the curve of his shoulder and, "Stay with me," the finger slides deeper inside him, a grimace twisting his features as he tries to get used to the invasion, tensing muscles eased by the spray of kisses that shower his spine. The other man is breathing quickly, too quickly, each pant warm and damp against bare skin.
Yunho exhales loudly, trying to recover his bearings when Yoochun's questing finger presses deep inside, searching and finding the places that make him moan the loudest as if he knows his body well enough already. "Keep..." he trails off, his laughter slightly choked, "keep doing that and I'll stay forever." It's on the level of romantic bullshit, but he can't imagine why he says it. He's not trying to get Yoochun into bed with him, that's already done. Another press of a finger tip and he forgets to care.
The third burns, a muted gasp of pain falling from his lips though he tries to stifle it, Yoochun hooking a leg around his, lips close to his ear and movements stilling. "Sorry, I'm sorry, just relax...I've got you..." It sounds suspiciously like 'I'll take care of you' and he surprises even himself when the thought eases his tension, letting Yoochun move in him, bring his pleasure back and to a peak.
"Need you," he allows himself to gasp out in a moment of weakness, forgetting to be firm and strong. His lover's touch is gentle but relentless, driving him too close before finally stopping. If not for his harsh breaths on Yunho's neck, it would seem he's fine and composed. But his hand shakes when it takes a hold of Yunho's hip, stilling it in preparation.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he's whispering already, fingers digging into the skin as if he's the one in pain. A short thrust later and they're both crying out, connected in the most intimate way possible.
He can taste copper in his mouth, his tongue throbbing distantly but it's all secondary to the feeling of Yoochun inside him. Yunho doesn't consider himself a sentimental man. Just the thought shouldn't do what it does to him. A warm hand strokes the flat of his stomach, curling around his erection. He's softened slightly from the unwelcome pain but Yoochun brings him back to the edge with deep, certain strokes, unmoving inside him even though Yunho knows he must want to.
"I'm not going to last if you keep doing that," he whispers into the curve of Yoochun's jaw, feeling stubble scratch his lips. The hand on his cock doesn't still, but it does slow, its rhythm sharp counterpoint to the bite of Yoochun's lips over his shoulder.
The other's hips shift forward, silencing him with a low gasp. "That makes two of us," he hears whispered into his ear, the words soft if not wholly unaffected. "Gods, Yunho, feels so good."
A sharp, stilted nod, focusing on Yoochun's touch, on the press of the other man along his spine. Until there's another, small thrust forward and Yoochun brushes that place inside him, leaving him groaning with surprise and pleasure.
They move together, Yoochun's arm wrapping around his waist in a half hold that feels entirely too good to be just sex. Yunho fights it for as long as he can, reaching back a hand to lay on Yoochun's hip. "Come inside me... please..."
He hears the sharp exhale of the other's breath, fingers clenching against his hip and as if by his sheer will, Yoochun does, flooding him with warm and wet as the other groans in his ear, a choked noise almost like a sobs as relaxes into Yunho. The hand on his length moves with renewed purpose, liquid syllables spoken into his hair and he'll have to get Yoochun to tell him what they---
Back arching against the other man, he spills his release over rough hands, eyes shut tight.
Later. He'll find time for it later.
***
Weeks later, when the feel of their naked bodies pressed together under the warm blanket has become habit, Yoochun wakes to the sound of ships flying overhead.
Everything changes.