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Jan 09, 2008 01:01

Title: Acts of Insurrection (8/20)
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; Five; Six; Seven





Chapter Eight

By the time they've separated and gone to search the forest, Junsu has been gone six hours. Jiexi's influence with the rebels comes in handy when trying to organizing a scouting party, but even with half the planet mobilized, the territory is just too great to cover.

Yoochun tastes fear on the tip of his tongue. The same luck that led Yunho to Changmin's craft all those months prior seems to have deserted them by now. Every way he turns, there's only more trees and eerie silence.

His radio crackles with sound from Jaejoong, from the others. They ask his position, they ask for a sit rep. He has nothing to report. The answer is always the same: 'negative'. Negative, as if Junsu vanished into a black hole.

How can someone go missing like that? And on Elysia of all places.

"Chunnie, come in..." Changmin's voice sounds tired, even through interfering static and the miles between them.

He fires up the engines with one hand and answers with the other. Every minute wasted is a minute Junsu doesn't have. He can't say why he's so morbid.

"Yeah? Have you found him?" It's his turn to ask, as if this is a game and Gods, he's ready, ready to have this be Yunho overreacting, ready to turn back and bury his head in Junsu's embrace--

"Negative," Changmin sighs tiredly. "But the Empress pulled out launch records. Nothing broke atmo in the past twenty-four hours. Wherever he is, Junsu is still on the planet."

Good news comes under many guises, this just doesn't happen to be one of them.

"Unless he's in a modified craft..." Yoochun muses out loud. "Doesn't the Guard use spy crafts that can't be traced?"

There's silence on the other end and he's afraid Changmin will agree. He can't handle the possibility that his worst fear is correct. If the Guard took Junsu, there's no hope.

When he finally speaks, Changmin's voice is firm. "No. Their engines would've left fingerprints the size of the Cerberus. Just because our radars can't follow them doesn't mean they don't exist." He seems sure and that's enough for Yoochun. He clings to the words like a dying man.

"Alright... if he's down here, we'll find him," he says decisively, ending the transmission. They need the channels clear, just in case.

Elysia is his home. He knows it like the back of his hand.

They're going to find Junsu and all of this will end.

All of it will go back to normal.

***

His eyes are closed, shaking under gentle hands, muscles tensing and relaxing as he slides against Junsu's body. "Relax," he encourages softly. He wills himself to listen to his own advice, wills his body to relax, a gentle nip to Junsu's collarbone coming a little too hard. He swears softly at the other man's grunt, soothing the mark with gentle swipes of his tongue.

His fists tighten in the sheets, tension lining his shoulders. Junsu strokes his cheek, that soft, perpetual smile curling his lips.

Yoochun can't hear him. All he can focus on is the memory of Jaejoong's tired features, his lover's hair limp with sweat and hanging in his eyes, strain evident in his features. He'd known instantly that he'd failed the sims again. That Changmin had brought him back instead of pushing him harder. It's left him both relieved and furious. Jae has to learn this, will learn it if he has to make his stay in the damn sim all night.

He can't come that close to losing him. Not again.

He's shaking with guilt as he drops his gaze, kissing along the smooth lines of Junsu's torso. He wants to show him his regrets, his reassurance. All he can do is let his hands wander over a smooth stomach, over familiar planes.

"Yoochun," he hears, Junsu's hand slipping from its quest on his stomach, moving to clutch Yoochun's back instead.

His thumbs smooth patterns over Junsu's hips, taking the other man into his mouth, the earthy scent of him as familiar as his taste on Yoochun's tongue. Sliding kiss-swollen lips down the man's length, he listens to the flutter of his heartbeat in his chest, closing his eyes tightly.

How many men has he had in his mouth? Has Jaejoong? How many times has he let his lover be fucked in the name of coercion, how many times have occurred without his knowledge? Which of them put the look in Jae's eyes that comes when he pulls his hair without warning?

Breathing comes a little faster, nearly choking on the other man's length before his regains his rhythm, a dull rushing in his ears.

Junsu's breathing is labored, but he barely hears it.

A low cry sounds, his hackles rising like a cat, fingernails nearly tearing the sheets ragged as he chokes again, pulling back and letting Junsu's length slip from his mouth. He presses his forehead against the man's stomach where he can feel Junsu's erection nudge against his cheek, slick with precum, his eyes closed. Breaths are coming harshly now, even as he feels questioning hands stroke his hair.

"Don't touch me," he hisses against pale skin.

How many? How fucking many has he played whore for and for what?

Junsu's hands stroke his cheek as he pushes himself up to lean on an elbow. He doesn't understand what's happening, torn between need for release and the desire to stop, to listen.

"Yoochun..." he begs, hips thrusting up slightly, desperately, unable to hold back.

His name and come sticky on his cheek, on his lips and it's enough to snap him, jerking away, a fist flying out and catching Junsu in the mouth.

He can't breathe.

They move in tandem. Instead of recoiling in fear and pain, Junsu's hands reach for him, Yoochun's for freedom from the nightmare. "What-what the hell, Chunnie? What... what was that for...?"

"Don't...touch," he gets out furiously, trying to claw the other man's arms away from him, gulping desperately for air. He's dying. He can't breathe and he's dying and tears are hot on his face, too hot.

"What's wrong? Chunnie, what's wrong?" Junsu's frantic, desperate. He reaches for his lover only to find his hands slapped away, to find himself pushed aside. He lets go, lets the other man shake, lets him drag himself away from the bed until he collapses, gasping loudly.

"Dying," he sobs, nails digging into the floor, pressing his forehead against the cool metal, shaking violently.

It's all so wrong. So, so fucked up and it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Junsu covers his hands with his own, grounds him in place. "Breathe, Yoochun. You're safe. You're with me. Breathe."

He doesn't know what this is, can't explain it to himself or the others, but Junsu's tears and the ugly bruise forming on his cheek is sign enough that something is very wrong.

The other man's warmth soothes him, as much as he wishes it wouldn't, as much as he knows he doesn't deserve to be comforted. There's blood on his knuckles and gods, what has he done? What the hell has he done?

"I'm sorry," he chokes, tears falling from his cheeks. For all of it. For everything. For being such a damn fool.

"You didn't mean it," Junsu insists, petting his hair.

Junsu, of all of them. He takes in the swelling of the man's lip, the darkening bruise on his jaw. Junsu, who has never so much as lifted his voice at them, and he struck him.

"We love you," he whispers, as if someone might overhear. "I love you. It's okay... it's okay."

He loves him. He loves him after that. After everything.

***

The landspeeder engine fades to silence before an inconspicuous-looking skiff. Yoochun squares his jaw.

He hasn't apologized enough for that. He thinks he never will.

Teeth sink into his lip. He fucked up once, he let his demons get the better of him. Never again. They love him. He's one of them. They don't need to lose Junsu to realize how much they love him; how much they need him.

Precaution, better judgment and Yunho's voice in his ear before they split up tells him to contact the others, wait for reinforcements. He can't afford to. He needs to know Junsu is safe.

"Jae, I've found him," he radios as he checks the charge on his rifle. Before a torrent of question can be thrown his way, he broadcasts his position and turns off his comlink.

He could be wrong, of course. No need to bring the whole cavalry.

But then, if he were wrong, Junsu's hovercraft wouldn't be neatly parked right there, to the side. There wouldn't be a trail in the dirt as if left by a body being drug away.

Yoochun's fingers itch to fire, to kill, to hurt. Junsu is safe. He has to be.

Loud engines fire up as the skiff rattles to life. It looks like an animal shaking the winter chill, or maybe a bird stretching its wings, but whatever the preferred analogy, Yoochun can't afford to turn a blind eye, can't let it take his lover from him.

He hasn't apologized enough.

A blast makes a small hole in the portside hatch, not enough for a man to pass through, but enough to alert the crew. It's what he wants, Yoochun tells himself. He wants the bastards to know they can't get away.

From a distance, he thinks he hears the sounds of hovercrafts approaching. Jaejoong and the others are coming. He fires again, emboldened by the promise of backup.

The hatch falls open, but he didn't expect retaliation so soon. He thinks Yunho'll never forgive him for that.

Dying isn't like this, he thinks, feeling his vision blur. Laser burns and cuts through you, plasma obliterates. Electric shocks, on the other hand, knock you out.

The last thing he sees before he hits the ground is a redhead smirking.

He thinks he hears him say: "Two for the price of one. Good business."
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