feeling like a villain, got a hunger inside (2/?) [exo]
feeling like a villian, got a hunger inside (2/?)
ot9, more tba? // pg-15 (might edge into r territory later on) // warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of torture.
notes: monster mv!au. ft some other smtown artists.
← part 1
He’s just snapping the second guard’s neck-a quick violent twist, easy as breathing-when Yixing’s voice breaks over the comms.
“Shit-”
Junmyeon drops the soldier to the ground and cups a hand around his ear. “What’s wrong?”
In his peripheral, the bright red of Chanyeol shoots two guards cleanly through the temple. “Fuck, I-” Yixing says, sounding distracted, “they’ve, I don’t know, installed some kind of new system-it was fine at first but now it’s blocking me out-”
“Can you get back in?”
“I’m trying-”
Junmyeon signals everyone to move and they hurry onwards, Sehun swiping the ID badge off a slumped soldier’s body before following.
“Status, Yixing,” Junmyeon prompts, a little more urgently, as he ducks around a corner. The entrance to the cell blocks should be close.
“Hang on-” Then, a staticky, frustrated exhale and the brush of fabric over the speaker. “I’m locked out. The security feed’s live for anyone to see now.”
There’s the door. Sehun tosses the ID to Junmyeon and Chanyeol boots it open as soon as the card swipes cleanly through the scanner. Light spills into the dark row of cells and illuminates-
“Baekhyun!”
Chanyeol is there first, long arms pushing between the grilles to meet Baekhyun’s outstretching hands. “Yeol, oh my god-”
“We have to get out of here,” Junmyeon says, eyes darting to the small round cameras on the ceiling as he passes the ID to Chanyeol. “Yixing’s been locked out of the servers. We’re under full surveillance now.”
Sehun sucks in a breath. “They’ll pull the alarm any minute-”
“Hang on, this is an electromechanical lock,” Chanyeol interrupts sharply. He twist around, gaze already flitting around the room. “It needs a key, not-”
“The guard with the white hair has key number four.”
Everyone stills.
Baekhyun is the first to move, pressing closer to the bars like it’ll help him see into the cell next to his. “You know the key rotations?”
Junmyeon raises his eyebrows and glances at whoever Baekhyun is addressing. The man in the cell to the right of Baekhyun’s looks back evenly, brown eyes clear.
They don’t have much time. “Hyung, should I-” Jongin starts, and Junmyeon only hesitates for a second.
“Go,” he says, and Jongin bolts back towards the hallway to find the body of the guard.
“Wait!” Jongin stutters to a halt just before the doorway. Baekhyun turns to cell next to his again. “What guard carries your key?”
Junmyeon can see the surprise break across the prisoner’s face. “Wh-that’s not impor-”
“It is important.”
“I...the guard with the face mask.”
Baekhyun looks to Junmyeon. He has that insistent glint in his eyes that only Baekhyun gets, the one that appears when he’s dead-set on doing (or selling) something. Junmyeon sighs. “Fine. Jongin, Sehun, you find a key each. Make it quick.”
As soon as their youngest two disappear down the hallway, Junmyeon turns away towards the wall to speak into the comms. “It’s been-what-five, ten minutes already, Yixing,” he says quietly. “Why hasn’t anybody in the surveillance center pulled the alarm.”
Yixing blows out a long breath. “I don’t-I don’t know. Maybe the system’s still shorting out, or the person monitoring fell asleep, or something. I don’t know.” He sounds just as bewildered as Junmyeon feels.
“I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I.”
Junmyeon turns back to the cells. Chanyeol and Baekhyun are speaking to each other in undertones, fingers still linked through the bars, and he lets them be. He’s considering the man in cell five when Jongin and Sehun skid back into the cell block with keys in hand.
“Let’s get out of here,” Junmyeon says, and with a final glance at the cameras they set to work.
Kyungsoo doesn’t know why he does it.
He’s there when the security feeds-showing nothing but peaceful, empty hallways-abruptly crackle and fizz out. He’s there when they come back up again and suddenly there are people on the screens, breaking into the Penitentiary, snapping the necks of the guards in the hallways and going against everything that the system-that Kyungsoo-is (meant) to stand for.
He’s there when he realizes that the people are trying to free the Resistance member, and he’s there when he also realizes this means he’s supposed to pull the alarm.
He punches his ID number into the control panel and the plastic case over the alarm pops open, yawning back with a squeak of its hinges. He reaches towards the red lever and notices, suddenly, that his hands are shaking.
He’s there when he realizes, with sharp, startling clarity, that he can’t do this.
Baekhyun looks….strangely okay. He looks okay in the way that someone who isn’t actually alright looks.
They aren’t insensitive enough to ask him about it, at least not now, but Yixing, as he cleans the dried blood off Baekhyun’s bruised face, does question-with a gentleness only Yixing can summon-if he’s alright. They all pretend not to pay attention as Baekhyun smiles at him tiredly and tells him not to worry about it.
But nevertheless, they’ve piled onto the few ratty couches they have in the base, and they’re feeling tired and strung-out but things are feeling strangely okay. Baekhyun seems strangely okay. The prisoner they picked up seems strangely okay. The lights strung up along the ceiling pool them all in a warm glow, and things seem….okay.
Junmyeon is the first to break it. (He has to. He knows and hates it that has to.)
He turns to the prisoner who was in cell number five, and says, tone deliberately light, “Your name is….Minseok, right?”
Minseok nods. He’s standing stiffly by the arm of one couches, clearly unsure of what to do with himself and still dressed in prisoner garb that Baekhyun’s short holding was able to forego.
“You’re not with the Resistance.” It’s more of a statement than a question.
“No.”
“Then I have to thank you for helping us any way,” Junmyeon says honestly. “Memorizing the key rotations can’t have been easy.”
“He knew the guard schedule, too,” Baekhyun adds, voice raspy. He settles back against the couch onto Chanyeol’s arm and ignores the half-hearted grumble. “When we talked before you came.”
Jongin looks impressed. “How long did it take you to memorize all that?"
Minseok shifts, a visible tightness starting to coil up at his shoulders. “I was, ah, only at the penitentiary for a few days before Baekhyun was brought in-”
“Only a few days?” Sehun gapes. “How did you even-”
It’s Yixing who cuts in with a laugh. “Alright, let’s not overwhelm Minseok-ssi.” He turns to address Minseok. “We should have some spare clothes here that you can change into. Would that be okay with you?”
Minseok looks surprised. Junmyeon thinks he must be unused to this kind of treatment, whatever it is. “Thank you, that-that would be nice.” A beat of hesitation, then, “And just Minseok is fine. If that’s alright.”
“Of course,” Yixing says, dimple poking into one cheek. “You don't need to speak to us formally either. I’m Zhang Yixing.”
Introductions circulate and end with Junmyeon recommending everyone to rest up. It’s still late afternoon, but after the adrenaline of the morning has worn off everyone’s a little sluggish. The persistent muffled grey of the fog blanket doesn’t help, either.
Yixing offers to bind the obvious electro-rod burn in Minseok’s side before they turn in, and he’s accepted with the same cautious gratitude their newest addition has been exhibiting since they brought him along.
Lights go out at six o’clock.
The morning after, Junmyeon goes to kitchen and finds Yixing waiting at the table with a two mugs of coffee. He accepts one with raised eyebrow and sits down across form him.
“Chanyeol hasn’t been the same,” Yixing says without preamble. Junmyeon blinks.
“Ever since Baekhyun was captured, he’s been very-very reclusive,” Yixing continues. He frowns down at his mug, then back at Junmyeon. “It made sense for the night after. Like you said, they’re usually attached at the hip. But considering we managed to break Baekhyun out just five or six hours later and that he’s here with us now, Chanyeol’s behavior just doesn’t….make sense. He’s barely spoken a word.”
Junmyeon takes a sip of his coffee. (Bitter. It’s hard to get good coffee-good anything-when you’re operating against the law.) “I’ve noticed, I think, but I just assumed he was getting over the scare,” he says slowly. "We’ve been lucky enough to never need to break anyone out of government hands before.”
Yixing taps his fingers against the side of the mug doubtfully, nails clinking on the ceramic. “Maybe.” His tone suggests he thinks otherwise.
“Hey-if you think so, then I believe you,” Junmyeon says, sincere. Yixing has always been better at things involving the metaphysical, even just subtle changes in behavior. “If it helps, I’ll keep an eye on him.”
The furrow between Yixing’s brows smooths out. “That’s all I ask,” he says, and the subject is dropped.
The watery morning light let in by the skylights softens everything into a gentle blue shade. Junmyeon watches steam curl up from the mouth of his cup and realizes that it’s been a while since he was last able to have a quiet morning, unbroken by the clutching feeling of danger or noisy maknaes clamoring for attention.
He takes another sip and can’t keep his nose from wrinkling. “Are we out of sugar?”
“Unfortunately,” Yixing says. His lips twitch. “Sorry. I know Taeyeon-noona and her group are camped out in the base a few streets down; I can go later to see if they have any.”
Junmyeon hums thoughtfully. “We could all go, actually. The maknaes both need haircuts and it would be good to catch up with her group, see if they have any news about the other cities.”
Sehun chooses that moment to burst into the kitchen, a sleepy Jongin in tow, and whine about his too-long hair. Yixing snorts and shakes his head.
He needs to get out of here.
He doesn’t belong with these people, these Resistance members who are horribly kind and not at all what they were supposed to be. He doesn't belong with their ideals and their familiarity and their-their crimes, he reminds himself, their violence and transactions against the law. They are everything that Minseok has been drilled to oppose.
He has to get out of here.
The Resistance members talk about visiting another base and Minseok politely refuses on the basis of tiredness and not wanting to intrude. Junmyeon frowns but allows it. A soon as they’re gone Minseok shoves an extra change of clothes into a bag and starts preparing to leave.
“Minseok-hyung?”
His heart drops into his stomach. Baekhyun stands in the doorway of the room, a thin hand braced on the frame and expression frozen halfway between a surprise and confusion.
“What are you doing?”
Oh, he thinks. Baekhyun. Baekhyun is a lot like how Minseok imagined him when they were speaking to each other a wall apart, only imagination and a voice to go off of in making a mental image: black hair and clear eyes, a persistently tactile nature that’s somehow clung onto Minseok after barely a day.
“Hyung?”
When did Baekhyun start calling him hyung? Minseok finds that he doesn’t mind, for some reason, and that in itself rattles him. He forces words to leave his mouth. “I-um, I was-”
Baekhyun’s eyes drop down to the bag he’s still clutching loosely. “Are you-where are you going?”
“I’m-” He has no idea what to say. Where is he going?
“Do you….not want to be here?” Baekhyun chances, and Minseok’s brain stammers. “I know I didn’t give you much-much choice, when we were at the penitentiary, but I just assumed-”
“I don’t belong here,” he blurts.
Baekhyun blinks. He looks taken off guard, before his face shutters in confusion. “Then where do you belong?”
He won’t be accepted back into the ranks, not after he’s been thrown in prison, Minseok suddenly realizes, but he pushes that thought aside as soon as it comes. He’ll figure something out. “Not here. Anywhere but here.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter, I just-I need to leave, you don’t want me here-”
“I do-we all do,” Baekhyun insists. “That should’ve been clear from the moment we took you with us-”
“No, you don’t-”
“Why?”
“It’s not impo-”
“It is important.”
It’s that: a repeat of their exchange in the penitentiary, a repeat of Baekhyun’s steadfast insistence that Minseok is important, that makes him stop.
Baekhyun watches him, waiting, and Minseok looks away, at the ground, noticing for the first time that he’s still wearing the clothes they let him borrow, still standing there only on their hospitality.
Fuck. He caves.
He swallows, clears his throat. “I’m a soldier,” he says hoarsely. He can’t look Baekhyun in the eye. “I’m just like the guards at Penitentiary 9, or the ones who patrol the city, or the soldiers that go to your Resistance riots and-” Baekhyun makes a breathy sound like he’s about to say something, but Minseok bulldozes on, “-and open fire on the crowd, Baekhyun, and kill people-people like you. Baekhyun, I could have killed you if we met before we did. I could have killed Junmyeon, or Yixing-”
“Hyung-”
“I don’t belong here-you’ve all been so kind and it’s not meant to be this way-”
“Hyung.”
Baekhyun takes a step forward. It’s the first time he’s moved during the entire exchange, and Minseok falls silent without fully knowing why. Baekhyun takes another pace forward and then stops.
He seems to take a moment to consider something. “If that’s the case,” he finally says cautiously, voice tentative, “if that’s what you think, then why did you help me?”
Minseok gapes at him. He should be-why is he even talking to Minseok anymore? He should be throwing him out, or at least alerting someone of the fact that who they saved was a government employed soldier-
Almost as if reading his mind, Baekhyun’s face softens. “We were all part of the system once,” he murmurs. “Being assigned to enforcement wasn’t in your control.”
“I could have been one of the guards that took you to the interrogation room and tortured you,” Minseok tries at length.
“But you weren’t,” Baekhyun says, taking another step forward. “You helped me instead, and-” he pauses, expression shifting suddenly in puzzlement, “-hang on, why were you in Penitentiary 9 in the first place?”
It takes Minseok a second to process. He’s had so little brain space and time to think since he was swept along with Baekhyun that his arrest has been pushed to the very back of his mind. He attempts to scrape his thoughts together. “We caught a Resistance woman who was working undercover in communications,” he finally manages. “I-I let her go, because-I don’t know, she just didn’t look like she deserved….whatever they would sentence her to. They found out that I’d done it and arrested me. I guess they chose the penitentiary to make a statement.”
He stops, because now Baekhyun’s gaping at him. “You-" Baekhyun sputters, and when Minseok looks nonplussed he seems even more baffled. “You-you help a Resistance girl escape, you help me escape, you feel so fucking guilty about the notion of hurting us, and you’re still trying to leave?”
“What-”
“You’re still have a crisis about how we’ve been too nice when you’ve done all that?”
Minseok flounders. This isn’t how he imagined this conversation would play out. He searches desperately for a response, anything, but comes up empty.
Baekhyun seems satisfied with his response, though. He smiles (boxy and rectangular and involving dark eyes curving into dark half-crescents, better than the one that comes across in his voice) and says, “I think you’re not being very honest with yourself. You’ve got a big dumb heart, hyung.”
Minseok still can’t find words. Baekhyun moves forward again and is finally in his space. He places his hands on Minseok’s, which he suddenly realizes are still clutched white-knuckled around the bag, and pushes them down gently, slim fingers dipping underneath his to loosen his grasp. The bag slips out of Minseok’s hands.
“Okay,” Baekhyun says. He steps back. “Now, let me ask this officially: are you okay with being here? If you really, really, still don’t think you belong here, then you can leave. But if not, I think Junmyeon-hyung will let you stay.” He grins again. “He’s nice like that.”
“I can’t believe you,” Minseok croaks finally.
Baekhyun laughs.
When Baekhyun doesn’t come back from his self-proclaimed “Minseok check-up”, Junmyeon isn’t immediately concerned. He does, however, send a raised eyebrow across the room at Yixing, who frowns in acknowledgement, and receive a worried look from Chanyeol.
He returns his attention to the conversation he’s having with Taeyeon, but she’s paused, noticing his brief second of distraction. It only takes her a moment to realize what's up.
“Baekhyun-ah’s not back,” she murmurs. She straightens and gestures for Hyoyeon and Yuri to watch the doors, quick eyes assessing all entrances.
Junmyeon is surprised. “I’m sure-”
Taeyeon shakes her head, running a hand through her pale hair. “Just a few weeks ago they managed to catch Tiffany-we’ve had her stationed undercover in communications for years and years; you remember.” Junmyeon nods. “They’re cracking down on us harder than ever. Something’s happening. We have to be careful, Junmyeon.”
Taeyeon has years of experience under her belt that Junmyeon doesn’t have. He personally holds her in a lot of respect, too-for her tiny stature, she embodies incredible strength and defiance-so if she’s sensing a change in the tides, then he’ll trust her judgement. Something catches his attention, though: “Tiffany was caught? How did she manage to get out?”
Taeyeon follows his puzzled gaze to the girl in question, laughing with Yoona and looking none the worse for wear. “We were lucky with that, like you,” Taeyeon admits. “The commanding officer who took her in when they got tipped off let her go, for some reason.” She purses her lips, thoughtful. “I guess some people are sympathizers. I wouldn’t take it for granted.”
It’s been a few minutes. Chanyeol looks increasingly antsy, and even Jongin and Sehun are glancing around. Yixing shoots Junmyeon a look that can only be read as we should leave, which Taeyeon catches.
She smiles, the grim cut of her eyes softening to curves. “You should go,” she prompts gently. “Baekhyunnie can take care of himself, but who knows what trouble he might get himself into when he’s alone.”
“That’s true,” Junmyeon snorts, standing. A quick wave of his hand rounds everyone up. “It was good seeing you, noona,” he says to Taeyeon, and she rises too, pulling his taller frame down for a quick hug. Her hair smells like shampoo. “Stay safe.”
“Let us know if you need anything,” she says.
Goodbyes are exchanged, and before long they’ve entered the cool air of the tunnels. Junmyeon keeps an eye on Chanyeol-after Yixing’s musings in the morning, he feels high wired to noticing Chanyeol’s behavior-and finds that he is, indeed, silent and twitchy, usual easy grin nowhere to be found. Junmyeon files the observation away for later.
The heavy locks of the entrance whirr and clunk tiredly before finally giving way. They enter and find Baekhyun and Minseok in the main room, arguing quietly in insistent but muted tones. Both jump and spin to the face them.
Junmyeon looks between them with raised brow. “Something you want to discuss?”
Baekhyun nudges Minseok forward subtly. “Yeah.”
Minseok swallows and opens his mouth.
part 3 →
_ _ _ _ _ _
- jongdaebak will be showing up soon, probably ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
- also fyi i'm writing for exomonsterfest so if i take 25 yrs to update this it's bc i'm working on my fic for that! it could also be bc i am a lazy millennial but who knows
- u can talk to me @ my ask.fm !! (i've never used it for anything lmfao)
- i use - a lot. i kno. im sry.
ot9, more tba? // pg-15 (might edge into r territory later on) // warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of torture.
notes: monster mv!au. ft some other smtown artists.
← part 1
He’s just snapping the second guard’s neck-a quick violent twist, easy as breathing-when Yixing’s voice breaks over the comms.
“Shit-”
Junmyeon drops the soldier to the ground and cups a hand around his ear. “What’s wrong?”
In his peripheral, the bright red of Chanyeol shoots two guards cleanly through the temple. “Fuck, I-” Yixing says, sounding distracted, “they’ve, I don’t know, installed some kind of new system-it was fine at first but now it’s blocking me out-”
“Can you get back in?”
“I’m trying-”
Junmyeon signals everyone to move and they hurry onwards, Sehun swiping the ID badge off a slumped soldier’s body before following.
“Status, Yixing,” Junmyeon prompts, a little more urgently, as he ducks around a corner. The entrance to the cell blocks should be close.
“Hang on-” Then, a staticky, frustrated exhale and the brush of fabric over the speaker. “I’m locked out. The security feed’s live for anyone to see now.”
There’s the door. Sehun tosses the ID to Junmyeon and Chanyeol boots it open as soon as the card swipes cleanly through the scanner. Light spills into the dark row of cells and illuminates-
“Baekhyun!”
Chanyeol is there first, long arms pushing between the grilles to meet Baekhyun’s outstretching hands. “Yeol, oh my god-”
“We have to get out of here,” Junmyeon says, eyes darting to the small round cameras on the ceiling as he passes the ID to Chanyeol. “Yixing’s been locked out of the servers. We’re under full surveillance now.”
Sehun sucks in a breath. “They’ll pull the alarm any minute-”
“Hang on, this is an electromechanical lock,” Chanyeol interrupts sharply. He twist around, gaze already flitting around the room. “It needs a key, not-”
“The guard with the white hair has key number four.”
Everyone stills.
Baekhyun is the first to move, pressing closer to the bars like it’ll help him see into the cell next to his. “You know the key rotations?”
Junmyeon raises his eyebrows and glances at whoever Baekhyun is addressing. The man in the cell to the right of Baekhyun’s looks back evenly, brown eyes clear.
They don’t have much time. “Hyung, should I-” Jongin starts, and Junmyeon only hesitates for a second.
“Go,” he says, and Jongin bolts back towards the hallway to find the body of the guard.
“Wait!” Jongin stutters to a halt just before the doorway. Baekhyun turns to cell next to his again. “What guard carries your key?”
Junmyeon can see the surprise break across the prisoner’s face. “Wh-that’s not impor-”
“It is important.”
“I...the guard with the face mask.”
Baekhyun looks to Junmyeon. He has that insistent glint in his eyes that only Baekhyun gets, the one that appears when he’s dead-set on doing (or selling) something. Junmyeon sighs. “Fine. Jongin, Sehun, you find a key each. Make it quick.”
As soon as their youngest two disappear down the hallway, Junmyeon turns away towards the wall to speak into the comms. “It’s been-what-five, ten minutes already, Yixing,” he says quietly. “Why hasn’t anybody in the surveillance center pulled the alarm.”
Yixing blows out a long breath. “I don’t-I don’t know. Maybe the system’s still shorting out, or the person monitoring fell asleep, or something. I don’t know.” He sounds just as bewildered as Junmyeon feels.
“I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I.”
Junmyeon turns back to the cells. Chanyeol and Baekhyun are speaking to each other in undertones, fingers still linked through the bars, and he lets them be. He’s considering the man in cell five when Jongin and Sehun skid back into the cell block with keys in hand.
“Let’s get out of here,” Junmyeon says, and with a final glance at the cameras they set to work.
Kyungsoo doesn’t know why he does it.
He’s there when the security feeds-showing nothing but peaceful, empty hallways-abruptly crackle and fizz out. He’s there when they come back up again and suddenly there are people on the screens, breaking into the Penitentiary, snapping the necks of the guards in the hallways and going against everything that the system-that Kyungsoo-is (meant) to stand for.
He’s there when he realizes that the people are trying to free the Resistance member, and he’s there when he also realizes this means he’s supposed to pull the alarm.
He punches his ID number into the control panel and the plastic case over the alarm pops open, yawning back with a squeak of its hinges. He reaches towards the red lever and notices, suddenly, that his hands are shaking.
He’s there when he realizes, with sharp, startling clarity, that he can’t do this.
Baekhyun looks….strangely okay. He looks okay in the way that someone who isn’t actually alright looks.
They aren’t insensitive enough to ask him about it, at least not now, but Yixing, as he cleans the dried blood off Baekhyun’s bruised face, does question-with a gentleness only Yixing can summon-if he’s alright. They all pretend not to pay attention as Baekhyun smiles at him tiredly and tells him not to worry about it.
But nevertheless, they’ve piled onto the few ratty couches they have in the base, and they’re feeling tired and strung-out but things are feeling strangely okay. Baekhyun seems strangely okay. The prisoner they picked up seems strangely okay. The lights strung up along the ceiling pool them all in a warm glow, and things seem….okay.
Junmyeon is the first to break it. (He has to. He knows and hates it that has to.)
He turns to the prisoner who was in cell number five, and says, tone deliberately light, “Your name is….Minseok, right?”
Minseok nods. He’s standing stiffly by the arm of one couches, clearly unsure of what to do with himself and still dressed in prisoner garb that Baekhyun’s short holding was able to forego.
“You’re not with the Resistance.” It’s more of a statement than a question.
“No.”
“Then I have to thank you for helping us any way,” Junmyeon says honestly. “Memorizing the key rotations can’t have been easy.”
“He knew the guard schedule, too,” Baekhyun adds, voice raspy. He settles back against the couch onto Chanyeol’s arm and ignores the half-hearted grumble. “When we talked before you came.”
Jongin looks impressed. “How long did it take you to memorize all that?"
Minseok shifts, a visible tightness starting to coil up at his shoulders. “I was, ah, only at the penitentiary for a few days before Baekhyun was brought in-”
“Only a few days?” Sehun gapes. “How did you even-”
It’s Yixing who cuts in with a laugh. “Alright, let’s not overwhelm Minseok-ssi.” He turns to address Minseok. “We should have some spare clothes here that you can change into. Would that be okay with you?”
Minseok looks surprised. Junmyeon thinks he must be unused to this kind of treatment, whatever it is. “Thank you, that-that would be nice.” A beat of hesitation, then, “And just Minseok is fine. If that’s alright.”
“Of course,” Yixing says, dimple poking into one cheek. “You don't need to speak to us formally either. I’m Zhang Yixing.”
Introductions circulate and end with Junmyeon recommending everyone to rest up. It’s still late afternoon, but after the adrenaline of the morning has worn off everyone’s a little sluggish. The persistent muffled grey of the fog blanket doesn’t help, either.
Yixing offers to bind the obvious electro-rod burn in Minseok’s side before they turn in, and he’s accepted with the same cautious gratitude their newest addition has been exhibiting since they brought him along.
Lights go out at six o’clock.
The morning after, Junmyeon goes to kitchen and finds Yixing waiting at the table with a two mugs of coffee. He accepts one with raised eyebrow and sits down across form him.
“Chanyeol hasn’t been the same,” Yixing says without preamble. Junmyeon blinks.
“Ever since Baekhyun was captured, he’s been very-very reclusive,” Yixing continues. He frowns down at his mug, then back at Junmyeon. “It made sense for the night after. Like you said, they’re usually attached at the hip. But considering we managed to break Baekhyun out just five or six hours later and that he’s here with us now, Chanyeol’s behavior just doesn’t….make sense. He’s barely spoken a word.”
Junmyeon takes a sip of his coffee. (Bitter. It’s hard to get good coffee-good anything-when you’re operating against the law.) “I’ve noticed, I think, but I just assumed he was getting over the scare,” he says slowly. "We’ve been lucky enough to never need to break anyone out of government hands before.”
Yixing taps his fingers against the side of the mug doubtfully, nails clinking on the ceramic. “Maybe.” His tone suggests he thinks otherwise.
“Hey-if you think so, then I believe you,” Junmyeon says, sincere. Yixing has always been better at things involving the metaphysical, even just subtle changes in behavior. “If it helps, I’ll keep an eye on him.”
The furrow between Yixing’s brows smooths out. “That’s all I ask,” he says, and the subject is dropped.
The watery morning light let in by the skylights softens everything into a gentle blue shade. Junmyeon watches steam curl up from the mouth of his cup and realizes that it’s been a while since he was last able to have a quiet morning, unbroken by the clutching feeling of danger or noisy maknaes clamoring for attention.
He takes another sip and can’t keep his nose from wrinkling. “Are we out of sugar?”
“Unfortunately,” Yixing says. His lips twitch. “Sorry. I know Taeyeon-noona and her group are camped out in the base a few streets down; I can go later to see if they have any.”
Junmyeon hums thoughtfully. “We could all go, actually. The maknaes both need haircuts and it would be good to catch up with her group, see if they have any news about the other cities.”
Sehun chooses that moment to burst into the kitchen, a sleepy Jongin in tow, and whine about his too-long hair. Yixing snorts and shakes his head.
He needs to get out of here.
He doesn’t belong with these people, these Resistance members who are horribly kind and not at all what they were supposed to be. He doesn't belong with their ideals and their familiarity and their-their crimes, he reminds himself, their violence and transactions against the law. They are everything that Minseok has been drilled to oppose.
He has to get out of here.
The Resistance members talk about visiting another base and Minseok politely refuses on the basis of tiredness and not wanting to intrude. Junmyeon frowns but allows it. A soon as they’re gone Minseok shoves an extra change of clothes into a bag and starts preparing to leave.
“Minseok-hyung?”
His heart drops into his stomach. Baekhyun stands in the doorway of the room, a thin hand braced on the frame and expression frozen halfway between a surprise and confusion.
“What are you doing?”
Oh, he thinks. Baekhyun. Baekhyun is a lot like how Minseok imagined him when they were speaking to each other a wall apart, only imagination and a voice to go off of in making a mental image: black hair and clear eyes, a persistently tactile nature that’s somehow clung onto Minseok after barely a day.
“Hyung?”
When did Baekhyun start calling him hyung? Minseok finds that he doesn’t mind, for some reason, and that in itself rattles him. He forces words to leave his mouth. “I-um, I was-”
Baekhyun’s eyes drop down to the bag he’s still clutching loosely. “Are you-where are you going?”
“I’m-” He has no idea what to say. Where is he going?
“Do you….not want to be here?” Baekhyun chances, and Minseok’s brain stammers. “I know I didn’t give you much-much choice, when we were at the penitentiary, but I just assumed-”
“I don’t belong here,” he blurts.
Baekhyun blinks. He looks taken off guard, before his face shutters in confusion. “Then where do you belong?”
He won’t be accepted back into the ranks, not after he’s been thrown in prison, Minseok suddenly realizes, but he pushes that thought aside as soon as it comes. He’ll figure something out. “Not here. Anywhere but here.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter, I just-I need to leave, you don’t want me here-”
“I do-we all do,” Baekhyun insists. “That should’ve been clear from the moment we took you with us-”
“No, you don’t-”
“Why?”
“It’s not impo-”
“It is important.”
It’s that: a repeat of their exchange in the penitentiary, a repeat of Baekhyun’s steadfast insistence that Minseok is important, that makes him stop.
Baekhyun watches him, waiting, and Minseok looks away, at the ground, noticing for the first time that he’s still wearing the clothes they let him borrow, still standing there only on their hospitality.
Fuck. He caves.
He swallows, clears his throat. “I’m a soldier,” he says hoarsely. He can’t look Baekhyun in the eye. “I’m just like the guards at Penitentiary 9, or the ones who patrol the city, or the soldiers that go to your Resistance riots and-” Baekhyun makes a breathy sound like he’s about to say something, but Minseok bulldozes on, “-and open fire on the crowd, Baekhyun, and kill people-people like you. Baekhyun, I could have killed you if we met before we did. I could have killed Junmyeon, or Yixing-”
“Hyung-”
“I don’t belong here-you’ve all been so kind and it’s not meant to be this way-”
“Hyung.”
Baekhyun takes a step forward. It’s the first time he’s moved during the entire exchange, and Minseok falls silent without fully knowing why. Baekhyun takes another pace forward and then stops.
He seems to take a moment to consider something. “If that’s the case,” he finally says cautiously, voice tentative, “if that’s what you think, then why did you help me?”
Minseok gapes at him. He should be-why is he even talking to Minseok anymore? He should be throwing him out, or at least alerting someone of the fact that who they saved was a government employed soldier-
Almost as if reading his mind, Baekhyun’s face softens. “We were all part of the system once,” he murmurs. “Being assigned to enforcement wasn’t in your control.”
“I could have been one of the guards that took you to the interrogation room and tortured you,” Minseok tries at length.
“But you weren’t,” Baekhyun says, taking another step forward. “You helped me instead, and-” he pauses, expression shifting suddenly in puzzlement, “-hang on, why were you in Penitentiary 9 in the first place?”
It takes Minseok a second to process. He’s had so little brain space and time to think since he was swept along with Baekhyun that his arrest has been pushed to the very back of his mind. He attempts to scrape his thoughts together. “We caught a Resistance woman who was working undercover in communications,” he finally manages. “I-I let her go, because-I don’t know, she just didn’t look like she deserved….whatever they would sentence her to. They found out that I’d done it and arrested me. I guess they chose the penitentiary to make a statement.”
He stops, because now Baekhyun’s gaping at him. “You-" Baekhyun sputters, and when Minseok looks nonplussed he seems even more baffled. “You-you help a Resistance girl escape, you help me escape, you feel so fucking guilty about the notion of hurting us, and you’re still trying to leave?”
“What-”
“You’re still have a crisis about how we’ve been too nice when you’ve done all that?”
Minseok flounders. This isn’t how he imagined this conversation would play out. He searches desperately for a response, anything, but comes up empty.
Baekhyun seems satisfied with his response, though. He smiles (boxy and rectangular and involving dark eyes curving into dark half-crescents, better than the one that comes across in his voice) and says, “I think you’re not being very honest with yourself. You’ve got a big dumb heart, hyung.”
Minseok still can’t find words. Baekhyun moves forward again and is finally in his space. He places his hands on Minseok’s, which he suddenly realizes are still clutched white-knuckled around the bag, and pushes them down gently, slim fingers dipping underneath his to loosen his grasp. The bag slips out of Minseok’s hands.
“Okay,” Baekhyun says. He steps back. “Now, let me ask this officially: are you okay with being here? If you really, really, still don’t think you belong here, then you can leave. But if not, I think Junmyeon-hyung will let you stay.” He grins again. “He’s nice like that.”
“I can’t believe you,” Minseok croaks finally.
Baekhyun laughs.
When Baekhyun doesn’t come back from his self-proclaimed “Minseok check-up”, Junmyeon isn’t immediately concerned. He does, however, send a raised eyebrow across the room at Yixing, who frowns in acknowledgement, and receive a worried look from Chanyeol.
He returns his attention to the conversation he’s having with Taeyeon, but she’s paused, noticing his brief second of distraction. It only takes her a moment to realize what's up.
“Baekhyun-ah’s not back,” she murmurs. She straightens and gestures for Hyoyeon and Yuri to watch the doors, quick eyes assessing all entrances.
Junmyeon is surprised. “I’m sure-”
Taeyeon shakes her head, running a hand through her pale hair. “Just a few weeks ago they managed to catch Tiffany-we’ve had her stationed undercover in communications for years and years; you remember.” Junmyeon nods. “They’re cracking down on us harder than ever. Something’s happening. We have to be careful, Junmyeon.”
Taeyeon has years of experience under her belt that Junmyeon doesn’t have. He personally holds her in a lot of respect, too-for her tiny stature, she embodies incredible strength and defiance-so if she’s sensing a change in the tides, then he’ll trust her judgement. Something catches his attention, though: “Tiffany was caught? How did she manage to get out?”
Taeyeon follows his puzzled gaze to the girl in question, laughing with Yoona and looking none the worse for wear. “We were lucky with that, like you,” Taeyeon admits. “The commanding officer who took her in when they got tipped off let her go, for some reason.” She purses her lips, thoughtful. “I guess some people are sympathizers. I wouldn’t take it for granted.”
It’s been a few minutes. Chanyeol looks increasingly antsy, and even Jongin and Sehun are glancing around. Yixing shoots Junmyeon a look that can only be read as we should leave, which Taeyeon catches.
She smiles, the grim cut of her eyes softening to curves. “You should go,” she prompts gently. “Baekhyunnie can take care of himself, but who knows what trouble he might get himself into when he’s alone.”
“That’s true,” Junmyeon snorts, standing. A quick wave of his hand rounds everyone up. “It was good seeing you, noona,” he says to Taeyeon, and she rises too, pulling his taller frame down for a quick hug. Her hair smells like shampoo. “Stay safe.”
“Let us know if you need anything,” she says.
Goodbyes are exchanged, and before long they’ve entered the cool air of the tunnels. Junmyeon keeps an eye on Chanyeol-after Yixing’s musings in the morning, he feels high wired to noticing Chanyeol’s behavior-and finds that he is, indeed, silent and twitchy, usual easy grin nowhere to be found. Junmyeon files the observation away for later.
The heavy locks of the entrance whirr and clunk tiredly before finally giving way. They enter and find Baekhyun and Minseok in the main room, arguing quietly in insistent but muted tones. Both jump and spin to the face them.
Junmyeon looks between them with raised brow. “Something you want to discuss?”
Baekhyun nudges Minseok forward subtly. “Yeah.”
Minseok swallows and opens his mouth.
part 3 →
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- jongdaebak will be showing up soon, probably ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
- also fyi i'm writing for exomonsterfest so if i take 25 yrs to update this it's bc i'm working on my fic for that! it could also be bc i am a lazy millennial but who knows
- u can talk to me @ my ask.fm !! (i've never used it for anything lmfao)
- i use - a lot. i kno. im sry.