DBSK FIC: Paper Gangster [Yoochun/Junsu, R]
Title: Paper Gangster
Author: frayen
Rating: R
Pairing: Yoochun/Junsu
Warnings: AU, Violence
Word count: 6,895
Summary: Undercover cop and a Mob Boss's boy toy, it's like neither of them knows who they are anymore.
A/N: hug______ secret santa fic for foliaceous
Paper Gangster
I. Let sleeping dragons lie.
Yoochun heard the quiet chuckle of the Goon behind him but he didn’t look up, he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, feel or breathe passed the pain. He hurt everywhere, it was impossible to distinguish what hurt and just how or where. He heard the Goon laugh again and this time Yoochun was able to move his head just that little bit to the side to look at the source of that laughter. Not that it afforded him a better view of anything, he was lying prone on the damp floor so all he could see was the Laughing Goon’s scuffed but expensive shoes. Yoochun’s face was pressed into a shallow puddle of water mixed with some substance Yoochun didn’t want to contemplate and if he lay like this much longer then he was going to drown in that little pool. He tried, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care about that.
“I think we hit him too hard.” The Laughing Goon said. Yoochun heard the other Goon snort which he took as being some kind of acknowledgement that, yes, they had hit him too hard. Yoochun tried to snort in acknowledgement too, but it came out as more of a gurgle. Laughing Goon laughed again and his scuffed but expensive shoes moved out of his line of vision.
“This is a waste of time.” Snorting Goon said. Or at Least Yoochun thought it was Snorting Goon, they both kind of looked and sounded the same. Like two big and burly clones of each other. Yoochun is sure that they have names, he was sure that at some point during his capture he had heard someone use the names that the Goons had. He is also sure that he didn’t give two shits and that he really, really just wanted this to be over.
“Do we really have to stay and watch this piece of shit? He’s not going anywhere.”
Yoochun tried to snort in acknowledgement of that point too. He really wasn’t going anywhere, except hell. He tried to move his arm but all he managed was a slight twitch of his fingers, which was some sort of progress.
“We have to wait for The Boss.” Laughing Goon said. There was a bored, unimpressed tone to his voice that Yoochun is pretty sure that he had to have practiced.
“I need a smoke.” Snorting Goon said. “I’m going outside.”
“He’s awake. Can’t leave him.” Laughing Goon said and there were footsteps, both Goons came to stand in front of him. Oh this was not going to be good. A foot connected with the side of Yoochun’s head and the dank world around him faded into black and for a small, blissful while nothing hurt at all.
*
When he came to again it was to the steady symphony of impatient noises. He heard whispered, angry sounding voices, someone pacing back and forth with quick authoritative steps, he heard someone else nervously shuffle their feet. He didn’t want to open his eyes, if he didn’t open his eyes then they wouldn’t know he was conscious.
“Wake him up. Now.” A cool voice said. The voice was quiet, but it held an authority that was unquestionable. Great, The Boss was here.
Cold water splashed over him which was just perfect because it wasn’t like he wasn’t already cold and wet and miserable enough already. Though the shock of the ice water did have the effect of clearing his fogged up head. Yoochun coughed and spluttered and tried to push himself up and away from the now considerably large puddle he was lying in, but he had little to no strength left in his body and his arms buckled under the strain and he face planted on the ground again.
“Pathetic.” The Boss Sneered. “Pick him up since he can’t seem to do it himself.”
Strong hand gripped Yoochun’s upper arms and hauled him bodily to his feet. The sudden movement was fast and hard enough to almost rip one of Yoochun’s arms from its socket and Yoochun bit back the cry of pain that threatened to break forth. He hadn’t cried out during any of the previous beatings and he was damned if he was going to give any of these bastards the satisfaction of starting now. They could get there sadistic jollies somewhere else. He couldn’t stand properly, couldn’t support his own weight so he just hung there limply in the Goon’s grip, this non action put pressure on his injured shoulder but he couldn’t do anything about it. One of the Goons holding him was Laughing Goon, he recognized the shoes.
There were more people in this little dungeon with him now, besides The Boss and the two Goons set to guard him. Idly, Yoochun wondered how long he was out this time, night had long since fallen and Yoochun was pretty sure that the last time he was aware of his surroundings it was close to twilight. Coloured lights glowed in through the small window placed high in the wall, the gaudy green and red of Christmas. Somewhere a jaunty jingle tinkled out of a broken down radio, given his situation the tune sounded awful and macabre. The Boss apparently arrived while Yoochun was out cold bringing his entire entourage with him. No wait…Yoochun looked around at the assembled cast of characters and noted that there were quite a few of The Boss’s usual aids missing. Not that this information did Yoochun any good, it didn’t matter that there were less people for him to contend with, he was in no condition to put up a fight. A physical one anyway. Just because he was going down doesn’t mean that he was going to go down quietly. Yoochun looked up at The Boss and offered him what he hoped was a winning smile. When he smiled he tasted blood, but that wasn’t a surprise, he could feel the cut on his lip. The wound seemed to pulse in time with his heart beat.
“Hey,” Yoochun drawled in English. His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears. “This is quite some party.”
The few minions The Boss had brought with him all had their attention focused on him, Yoochun could feel the weight of their collected glares. They were all waiting to take their pound of flesh out of him. The door to his little cell had been left open and someone stood back by the shadows. Yoochun couldn’t get a good look at him, whoever it was they didn’t seem to want to come any further into the room then they had to.
“Cut the crap, Micky.” The Boss said. He walked up to Yoochun, leaned in close. His breath stank of expensive whisky and even more expensive cigars, it made Yoochun want to throw up. The Boss spoke in heavily accented English but then switched back to Korean. “Or should I call you Park Yoochun?” The Boss smiled but that smile didn’t reach his eyes, they remained cold and calculating.
Yoochun tried not to let his smile falter. He guessed already that he was here because his cover had been blown, but there had been that small part of him that had hoped that he was here because The Boss suspected him of fiddling with the take of the delivery business he ran. Either scenario would result in Yoochun’s very slow and very painful death but if Yoochun’s cover had been blown then it wasn’t just Yoochun in the firing line and that thought was enough to make Yoochun’s heart stop all on its own. Yoochun’s eyes flicked back to the person lurking by the door, an involuntary motion. He didn’t want to look there, he didn’t want to see that person’s face. That person had moved a little further into the room and they were still cast in shadows, but the shape of their outline, the way they stood hunched over and unsure, it was so heartbreakingly familiar. Yeah, Yoochun was pretty sure he was going to throw up and hey, if he aimed it just right he might get it all over Laughing Goon’s stupid scuffed shoes. Well, he was going to die horribly soon anyway.
“Park Yoochun,” The Boss said again. “Now I have you.”
“Yes you do.” Yoochun said in Korean. There was no point keeping up the pretence anymore, if they knew his real name then they knew that he wasn’t a Korean-American on the run from the law in the states. Part of that cover had been that ‘Micky’ didn’t speak any Korean, thus ensuring that The Boss’s more idiotic employee’s didn’t keep their fool mouths shut when ‘Micky’ was around. “You’ve got me.” Yoochun tried to keep his voice light and agreeable. Show no sign of fear Yoochun old boy, show no sign of fear. “But have you got a breath mint? Because I would consider that to be more important.”
Yoochun didn’t see the blow coming, The Boss moved quickly despite his ample size. Yoochun braced himself for the hit anyway, it’s a predictable reaction, if you smart mouth the bad guy then you should expect to get socked in the gut. The breath whooshed out of him in a rush and he gasped and fought to be able to breathe again. The Boss laughed and walked away.
“Fucking cockroaches.” The Boss muttered. I get rid of one of you and another one takes its place.
Yoochun glared at The Boss but The Boss didn’t see the baleful expression, he was facing away from Yoochun, he faced toward the open door and the person standing there in the shadows.
“I trusted you Micky.” The boss said. He spoke to Yoochun but his words were directed at the shadow man, Yoochun was fairly certain it was a man. Yoochun felt his gut twist. No, no, no, no. The Boss turned back to him, his gaze steady and intent. “I saw potential in you. I consider myself to be a smart man and I believed in you, this was my failing and your doom.”
Yoochun rolled his eyes. His doom. Right, of course. He bit back his clichéd response and instead he looked away, looked down at the ground and hung his head slightly in that humiliating gesture of subservience that he’d had to adopt once he started this assignment. All The Boss’s employee’s adopted it, Yoochun hated it and he knew it wasn’t going to do him any good now but he couldn’t help it and he hated himself for doing it but he had to keep the boss talking, he had to know how much of his story The Boss knew. No one was coming to save him but there was one person that Yoochun could still save. The Boss knew that Yoochun was a spy and he had to know now that Yoochun was a cop.
But did he know that Yoochun had been working with someone else within the organization? Someone very, very close to The Boss.
Yoochun hoped, almost desperately so, that he didn’t.
II. Stop, rewind.
Yoochun didn’t want this assignment. Dread pooled low in his stomach, cold and ugly, as he looked at the photos spread out on the table in front of him. He’d given most of them only cursory glances, crime scene photos, mug shots of various members of the organization that had already been arrested. He only had eyes for two of the pictures. One was of a body pulled from the Han River two days ago. The body was bloated and deformed from its time in the cold waters, livid bruises and deep clear cuts covered the skin on its arms and torso and face. The face was so badly marred that it wasn’t recognizable as a face at all. DNA tests identified the body - him - as a Police Officer. The undercover agent that Yoochun was set to replace.
The other photo that held Yoochun’s attention so was that of The Boss himself. Boss Chang, head of the organization and the biggest Kingpin in Korea - allegedly. It was a candid shot of The Boss taken as from across the street as he got out of his Limo and walked to his club. Chang was a large man, tall, well built, as his years advanced he packed on a fair few pounds of fat but most of his bulk was muscle. He kept in shape and didn’t look close to being his age, 55, the Police had a copy of his birth certificate. Chang was smart and he kept a legal and above board paper trail, all his public businesses were above reproach, he paid all of his bills and taxes in full and on time. Despite the numerous spies and informers the Police had placed with Chang’s organization they had yet to garner any evidence that would hold up in court about Chang’s not so public businesses.
In this photo The Boss had his arm curled protectively around the waist of his boy toy, a dancer from one of The Boss’s clubs, one of that club’s more popular attractions. He was know as Xiah. Xiah wasn’t looking at the camera but from his closed expression and stiff posture Yoochun could tell that Xiah knew it was there, that he was being watched.
Xiah. Yoochun hated that name, hated this whole situation. Xiah’s real name was Kim Junsu and he wasn’t first undercover agent the KNPD had sent into the organization but he was the longest lasting and he was the one who had managed to get the closest to The Boss himself. He was also the reason that Yoochun hadn’t wanted to take this assignment but he was also the reason that he ultimately had to.
Yoochun looked at the photograph of Chang and Xiah, he looked at the tense expression on Junsu’s face. No, Xiah. He had to think of him as Xiah, one little slip up would mean death for the both of them. Rage roiled inside Yoochun’s gut at the thought of Chang touching him, at the thought of the things Junsu - Xiah dammit - has had to do to get so close to that asshole. Involuntarily Yoochun flashed back to the last time he had seen Junsu. That had been the last time Yoochun had held him, kissed him. It had been a hard, angry kiss that preceded hard, angry sex. Yoochun’s face coloured at the memory of Junsu writhing beneath him, moaning Yoochun’s name. Yoochun closed his eyes, pushed the photo away, he didn’t want to look at it anymore, didn’t want to do this. He stood up from the table, kicked his chair away, the other officers in the room didn’t say anything but there was an uncomfortable cough. Yoochun thought it might have come from his Superintendent.
Yoochun knew that none of the officers assembled here had any idea of his and Junsu’s - Xiah fucking dammit, he’s Xiah and you’re Micky - prior relationship. He knew that is they did then he wouldn’t be allowed within fifty feet of this investigation. He knew that his bigoted Superintendent would be doing everything in his power to get them both struck from the force.
Yoochun opened his eyes, looked at his lieutenant who nodded gravely at him.
“You ready, Micky?” He asked?
Yoochun managed to croak out a yes but that was a lie. Yoochun didn’t think he would ever be ready.
III. Could have waited for you all day.
Yoochun was cold. The bone deep weary kind of cold. His clothes and hair were wet from the bucket of ice water thrown over him, his skin was drenched in a cold sweat. His teeth clattered and he trembled. He exaggerated his teeth chattering slightly because god forbid anyone think he was trembling because he was scared.
He was afraid, yes, but it was that stupid kind of fear where he wasn’t afraid for himself. That ship had sailed and he was adrift on the seas of the ‘soon to be made dead’. No, he was afraid for someone else. So, so, so afraid. He was alone here in this situation, it was just him. That someone he was afraid for wasn’t with him and Yoochun had to blink his eyes and shake his head to clear away the visions of a slit throat and that someone’s body covered in blood.
There was a noise from the doorway, a soft gasp and a quiet scuffling. The person lurking there had edged further out of the door as if they were waiting for The Boss to be completely distracted so they could make a break for it. The Boss turned halfway towards the noise, Yoochun could still see his face in profile so he saw it clearly as The Boss’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. The kind expression looked out of place on The Boss’s face, wrong. Yoochun fought the urge to rip out of his captor’s grip and punch that smile off Chang’s face.
“It’s ok, baby.” Chang said, his voice soft and cajoling. Baby? Yoochun was finding it really, really hard not to vomit. “I’m sorry you have to see this but I do need you with me.” Chang turned completely away from Yoochun and towards the person in the shadows. “Come here.” Chang said and his tone might have been calm and inviting but there was no room for doubt that this was an order. A figure moved out of the shadows, Yoochun could see him clearly now and heart and breath lodged in his throat.
Despite the fact that Yoochun had been working undercover in the organization for the last six months and had been working with Xiah for most of that time, Yoochun hadn’t actually seen him. He hadn’t seen him face to face since Junsu stopped being Junsu and became Xiah, that had been a year and a half ago. The closest Yoochun had come had been just after Yoochun had started work for Chang under his cover of ‘Micky’. Yoochun had stopped by Chang’s main club to pick up a delivery and Xiah had walked passed, or it was more like he swaggered passed, all puffed up with confidence, wearing tight leather pants that hugged the curve of his ass just right. That had been before Yoochun had been able to contact Xiah through the channels that had been set up, it had been before Xiah had even known that his last contact had been murdered. Yoochun had seen a flare of panic in Xiah’s eyes when he saw Yoochun, but it was there for only a minute and then it was gone. Junsu never had a good poker face, Xiah’s however was flawless. Since then they had only communicated through furtive phone calls, Yoochun only got to hear Xiah’s voice for a minute at a time and he savoured every second.
Xiah looked almost the same now as he did all those months ago, except his hair had been dyed a deep red and it - along with his kohl lined eyes - made him look painfully young and hard. When Junsu had been given this assignment, information on Chang’s taste in partners had just been rumours and hearsay. But the department had been willing to take a gamble, if Chang didn’t go for it then they would have pulled Junsu out and tried again with some other bait.
Yoochun hated Chang with a passion that bordered on fanatic.
As Xiah walked unsteadily closer to them Chang reached out an arm and curled it around Xiah’s waist, pulling him into a one armed hug. The gesture was at once both tender and possessive and it made Yoochun see red. He wanted to scream and shout at Chang to get his filthy hands off his Junsu. Yoochun couldn’t help himself, he lunged forward and tried to speak but the words came out as a defiant snarl. The Goons still holding him pulled him back roughly, Yoochun heard a soft ‘pop’, pain - fiery and hot - flared through his arm and over his shoulder and he knew that one of his shoulders had to now be dislocated, but both of them hurt so much that he couldn’t tell which one it was.
Yoochun heard The Boss laugh and he looked up, he tried not to look at Xiah but it was hard. The Boss regarded him with amusement, Xiah just stood there, his expression blank, his face so pale and still that it could have been carved from stone.
“I trust you are finished with the useless escape attempts?” The Boss sneered. Yoochun didn’t bother giving a response, he was too busy trying to calm his rapid breathing. “Now that my most trusted associates have been assembled we can get on with tonight’s main event.”
Yoochun’s heart sped up, it beat a loud jungle rhythm against his chest, it felt like it was trying to beat its way to freedom - to Junsu. Yoochun had to fight to breathe. He’d been sure that if Xiah had been brought to this place then it would have been for some kind of cruel joke. He’d thought that Chang knew everything and that he was going to slit Xiah’s throat right in front of him. Yoochun was afraid that he was going to have to stand and watch his Junsu bleed. Watch him die. He didn’t know what to do with the relief that it was the case, his knees gave out and he sagged again in his captor’s grip.
Junsu was going to be ok.
That was assuming, of course, that Junsu played along the way he was supposed to. He was likely going to have to stand there and watch Yoochun die instead. Xiah would have to watch, but Yoochun hoped that he hadn’t screwed up so badly that Junsu wouldn’t care.
*
“I know who you are, Park Yoochun.” The Boss said and his voice was nothing more than a low rumble of menace. Yoochun met The Boss’s eyes, they were cold and empty of all reason. There was no sign of the kind expression he had graced Xiah with. “I know who you are working for, I just don’t know who you are working with.”
And that right there, Yoochun knew, was the only reason he hadn’t already been fitted for his cement shoes. The Boss might not suspect his little boy toy but he did suspect someone. In the months since Yoochun had be working under the cover of the hapless ‘Micky’ the Human Rights PD had made major head way into disrupting Boss Chang’s businesses - alleged. Chang specialized in human trafficking. Yoochun knew it. The KNPD knew it. But Chang was a smart and slippery fucker, doing all his dealing using proxy’s . Despite information from Yoochun, from Xiah, from the now deceased Lee Jaesun they had yet to get any solid evidence that would not be considered entrapment.
Fucking lawyers.
Even now, the only link the had between Chang and the dead Police Officer was that he had been working for Chang as part of his cover at the time of his death. At least once Chang ordered Yoochun’s death Officer Kim Junsu would be an eye witness. Chang was going to go down for that one.
“Do you expect me to talk?” Yoochun asked in English. He slurred the words in a mangled attempt at a Scottish accent. Chang just stared at him, one evil eyebrow arched in annoyance. Yoochun wasn’t sure how eyebrows could be evil, but Chang’s just were. Everything about him was evil.
There was silence. The silence stretched on for a few tense filled minutes, the only sounds in the room were the drip, drip, drip of a out of sight leaky pipe and Yoochun’s laboured breathing. “Awww come on, work with me here.” Yoochun said once the silence got too much for him to bear. “What’s the point of getting myself caught if I can’t engage in witty banter with the bad guys?”
“Your wit leaves little to be desired.” Chang said calmly. “Let him go.”
That last order was obviously meant for the Goons holding him because no sooner had the words passed Chang’s lips then Yoochun was dropped to the floor. He landed with a surprised ‘oomph’, the palms of his hands scraped on the ground in his belated attempt to brace for impact. Yoochun was aware of the people in the room as the gathered around him, he could feel their malice press down on him like it had a physical form. Oh God, this was really, really going to hurt. Chang walked slowly and deliberately to stand in front of where Yoochun now lay, Yoochun had a good view of his shoes. Lovely. They were also expensive (naturally,) but they weren’t scuffed, they were almost immaculately clean except for a small smudge of something at the tip of one toe. The smudge looked suspiciously like blood and Yoochun had the irrational urge to reach over and wipe it away.
“We’ll be leaving you now, Mr Park. But I am sure that Mr Kim and Mr Bang will take good care of you.”
What? He was leaving?
“But that’s so anti climatic.” Yoochun said and he hated how weak his voice was starting to sound. He coughed and was pretty sure he coughed up blood. “You call an ominous meeting, you’re all gloating and ‘aha now I have you’ and then you just up and leave?”
The Boss chuckled but there was no mirth in it.
“I’ve met many men like you, Mr Park.” Chang said, his voice even, calm, empty. “Men who think they are doing what is right and good. The last spy I had disposed of was very much like that. I tortured him for hours and he never said a word. Righteous idiot.” Chang’s empty tone turned derisive like being a good man was beneath contempt. “I’m a busy man, Mr Park, and I don’t have any more time to waste on you. You will live for a few more hours, we will see if whoever you are working with decided to fight or flight. I have let word of your situation slip through some of my less trust worthy grapevines. If your partner is anything like you then he will rush to your aid. If not then he will run. Either way we will know who he is. I will find out who is undermining my authority even if I have to rip apart my organization from the inside out. I can always rebuild, people, things are replaceable.”
“You kill me now and the whole KNPD will know what you’ve done.” Yoochun said. Chang laughed.
“First they will have to find the body.”
Yoochun tried to push himself up. His right arm wouldn’t work, that’s the one that’s dislocated then, so using his left arm and his legs he managed to work himself into a sitting position. He was not going to meet his end lying down, he just wasn’t. He looked up in time to watch Chang wrap an arm around Xiah’s waist and lead him out of the little room. Watching Junsu - Xiah - leave was the most painful thing he’d experienced so far. Xiah looked back over his shoulder and Yoochun saw pain in his eyes and a flash of anger, defiance and in that moment Yoochun felt a stab of sympathy for Boss Chang and that sympathy left a bitter taste in the back of his throat.
Boss Chang was a dead man walking and he wouldn’t even see it coming.
The rest of Chang’s minions filed out after him and Yoochun was left with only two men standing over him. Goons Laughing and Snorting, AKA Mr Kim and Mr Bang. Just perfect.
“Could I interest either of you in some witty banter?” Yoochun asked dryly. Neither Goon answered him but then he didn’t really expect them to. He braced himself and then the beating started.
He stopped feeling it after a while. These guys were good at inflicting pain but they weren’t masters, relying on punches and kicks to delicate places. There is only so much of this that a body can take before it hurts so much that any more blows are superfluous. Yoochun didn’t even realize when he lost consciousness. It was just that one moment it hurt and the next it didn’t and he was floating into a warm, friendly, familiar dream.
IV. Way back when
Yoochun felt safe, cared for. He felt like he had come home. He was dimly aware that he was dreaming, this was a long forgotten feeling and he had no idea just how much he had missed it until right now. So if this was a dream then he didn’t ever want to wake up from it.
He opened his eyes, blinked a few times to adjust to the almost unnaturally bright light. He thought he heard the steady drip, drip, drip of an out of sight leaky pipe, but that wasn’t so unusual. He recognized the room he found himself in as his old apartment, the one he had shared with Junsu. Well, calling it an apartment was a bit optimistic - it was more like a large room in a run down building. But it had four walls, something that passed for a bathroom, plumbing that sometimes worked and heating that didn’t. And it had Junsu. Back then they had been the next best thing to penniless, just trying to make their mark on the world. Yoochun had played piano at a club styled after the American Jazz clubs of the 1940’s and Junsu taught dance at the local studio. At first they just roomed together, sleeping on separate single bed on opposite ends of the room because the rent - even in this shack of a building - was too much for either of them to manage alone. Yoochun remembers the night their relationship slipped into something more. Their heads had been heavy from too much Soju and their mouths dry from too honest conversation. They’d pushed their beds together into the middle of the room because one bed was just not big enough for the both of them. But afterwards they had both crushed onto Junsu’s side because it was slightly more comfortable.
Yoochun was lying in the middle of that pushed together bed now, he could feel the divide pressing against his back. The door to the little bathroom was closed and Yoochun lay there listening to the thrum of the running shower and the steady drip, drip, drip of that out of sight leaky pipe. How long had it been since he had been here in the real world? Five years? Six? So much had happened since then it made Yoochun feel so old. He thought he heard another noise, a bang. Then another, and then another and then another. The sounds were muffled and distant but still, they sounded a lot like gun shots. Yoochun shrugged, they could have just as easily been someone’s car back firing.
Lying here in this place, it was hard for Yoochun to remember why he had joined the force at all, though he suspected that his reasons weren’t good. And Junsu had followed him because they hadn’t wanted to be apart.
The bathroom door opened and Junsu walked out, his image hazy, partly obscured by the steam coming from the now shut off shower. Junsu’s skin was pink, flushed from the hot water and yes, this was definitely a dream - their water heater had never worked that well. Junsu’s hair was black but when the light hit it as he walked across the room it glowed a deep red. Yoochun didn’t like that colour on him, but he couldn’t figure out why. Junsu knelt down by the bed and reached out a shaking hand, his fingertips were wrinkled from staying in the shower too long. Junsu lightly touched Yoochun’s head, a terribly gentle caress. When Junsu brought his hand back his fingers were coated in blood. Yoochun frowned, he couldn’t decide which one of them was bleeding.
“Please wake up.” Junsu said. His voice was a frantic whisper that seemed at odds with his clam demeanour. Junsu smelled clean, soapy. Yoochun liked it. “Yoochunnie, wake up!”
Yoochun blinked at him. He was awake, wasn’t he? You can’t be asleep in a dream, can you?
“My name is Micky.” Yoochun mumbled blearily. He had no idea why he said that and he knew that is was the wrong thing to say the moment he said it.
Junsu slapped him. Hard.
Yoochun woke up.
V. Safety and other clichés.
The hands shaking him awake were gentle but determined. Yoochun had a scant few seconds of that half asleep feeling where nothing registered and nothing hurt - and then reality set in. His cheek burned like it was on fire and it was strange that out of all his aches and injuries this should be the one that he focused on. Despite the pain it still took him a few minutes to realize that he was conscious, images, memories assaulted his disorientated mind an he didn’t want to open his eyes. If he didn’t open his eyes then he wouldn’t have to look at the four dank walls of his little prison. If he didn’t open his eyes then he wouldn’t have to face up to yet another beating - how much more could he take? If he kept his eyes close them maybe it would hurry up and be over.
He was tired.
Those gentle hands were still shaking him. They touched the exposed skin on his arms, mindful of his cuts and bruises. One hand cupped his cheek, the hand was so soft. So soft. The simple kindness of being touched so made Yoochun want to cry and something inside him snapped. This was too cruel. After all they had done to him, all they had to do to really break him was show him a little kindness. He felt tears leak out from under his eyelids, so hot and unwelcome that they scorched down his cheeks and he blindly kicked out at whoever was touching him. It hurt to move, he was weak and his kick had no real strength behind it. His care giver just calmly reached out and stilled his feeble movements. Yoochun fumed silently and opened his eyes - and his world stopped.
“Are you done flailing around?” Xiah asked him.
Yoochun tried to reach out to him but his arms wouldn’t work and it took him a confused moment to figure out why. Oh yeah, he was lying on his left side, his left arm trapped underneath him. His right arm was fucked - and the rest of him was pretty much fucked too.
“Xiah?” Yoochun said. Or at least he tried to. His throat was raw, his voice was barely croaked whisper like all his vocals had been screamed away.
“I don’t want to hear that name, not from you.” Xiah said. “Can you get up?”
That, Yoochun thought, was a really stupid question and Yoochun didn’t think it deserved an answer but Xiah - no wait, Junsu - seemed to be waiting for one. He shook his head.
Names were confusing, the world was confusing. Yoochun thought it would be best if he just shut his eyes again.
“Don’t you dare!” Junsu said, he sounded far away. Yoochun tried to concentrate on what Junsu was saying, he really did. But everything was fading to black and if he was lucky then maybe he could go back to that dream he was having. And this time he could join Junsu in that hot shower.
Junsu slapped him. Hard. Then he started shaking Yoochun again and this time there was nothing gentle about his touch. The motion made Yoochun’s stomach swirl.
“Wake the fuck up.” Junsu hissed. He enunciated his words slowly and carefully as if he were talking to a small child - or an idiot. “We have to get out of here and I can’t carry you out.”
Yoochun started to say “Well you’re going to have to.” The words came out only vaguely coherent. He opened his eyes and tried to fully focus on Junsu, his rescuer. At least he assumed he was being rescued, it would really suck if he was just imagining all this. It was like he had never really seen Junsu before. This man in front of him was different from the Junsu he remembered and wildly different from Xiah the dancer Junsu pretended to be. Yoochun remembered Junsu when he seemed almost impossibly young, smart but a little goofy with a disarming smile. He’d looked - and was - innocent, trusting. Yoochun remembered when it was those qualities that got Junsu promoted to the special unit, leaving Yoochun behind and propelling Junsu into the arms of Boss Chang. Yoochun had been petty and childish and it was too late now to pretend otherwise.
The Junsu that knelt before him looked older - despite the red hair and kohl rimmed eyes. Junsu’s eyes blazed with the fury of an avenging angel, Yoochun hoped to all hell that he wasn’t the one that Junsu was mad at.
“M’sorry.” Yoochun mumbled as Junsu pulled him to his feet. Yoochun was glad that Junsu was there to support him because there was no way he could support himself. Junsu pulled on Yoochun’s dislocated arm, but Yoochun couldn’t really feel it anymore.
The hallway outside was lined in blood, the shock of the sight was enough to make Yoochun stumble and almost bring the both of them to the floor. He had vague memories of being dragged down their earlier this evening - or yesterday, he didn’t have any real idea what time it was anymore. The labyrinth beneath Chang’s club had been dank and foreboding even then. Now it looked like something out of a horror movie. Bodies were strewn on the course ground, Yoochun recognized two of them as Goons Laughing and Snorting - but just barely.
“What?” Yoochun stammered out, Junsu shushed him.
“Escape now, explain later.”
Yoochun staggered in Junsu’s grip and he thought he heard Junsu growl. It was a strangely erotic sound and of course Yoochun’s libido would kick in now, it never did have a good sense of timing. But all urges become a moot point because he passed out again despite Junsu telling him firmly not to.
*
Light streamed in through curtains so thin they might as well not have been closed at all. The light hurt Yoochun’s eyes and he decided that waking up had been a bad idea and he squashed his face into his pillow. He could hear children joyfully screaming outside and somewhere someone was playing an R and B version of a Christmas Carol. Yoochun opened his eyes again, carefully, looked around. He was alone in the dingy clean blandness of a cheap motel room.
How the hell had he got here? Where was Junsu?
Yoochun felt the space in the bed beside him. The bed was large, the left side - Junsu’s side - was still warm. Someone had slept next to him but they were gone now, they hadn’t been gone for long. Yoochun tried to push himself up and then decided that was a really, really bad idea. He pushed the bed covers down a little, just enough to see the bruises marring his torso - and that he wasn’t wearing pants. The door to the room’s bathroom was open and Yoochun could hear the steady drip, drip, drip of the sink tap, or the shower.
The door to the main room opened and Junsu came in bearing coffee and a paper bag spattered with grease. Yoochun’s stomach roiled and he could decide if he was hungry or not.
“You’re awake.” Junsu said as he set the food down on the table. Yoochun’s first thought was to respond with something sarcastic but he didn’t have the energy and settled for a small nod instead. Junsu came and sat down on the bed, his posture a little awkward. The silence between them stretched on until it became uncomfortable. Yoochun had so many questions that he had trouble deciding which to ask first.
“Where are we?” He asked at last.
Junsu shrugged. “Not far from Chang’s place. You were too heavy for me to get far carrying you by myself. When you are feeling better we’ll move on.”
“What happened?”
Junsu shrugged again and got up and went to the table and picked up one of the coffees. “I quit.” Junsu said simply. Yoochun made a small choking sound and Junsu smile a little sadly. “You never did like my promotion.”
“We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.”
Junsu walked back over to the bed and handed the cup of coffee to Yoochun.
“Later.” Junsu said.
“Chang?”
“Dead.”
Yoochun wanted to ask how, why, but he was afraid to. Junsu smiled his sad little smile again and sat down next to him.
“Remember when you used to play the piano?” Junsu asked and Yoochun nodded.
“And you used to dance.” Yoochun said, and then he added “The non sexual kind.” Junsu made a face.
“Do you think it could ever be like that for us again?”
Yoochun smiled and it felt like it was the first time he had smiled in years and he nodded.
“Yeah, I really do.”
The end.
Author: frayen
Rating: R
Pairing: Yoochun/Junsu
Warnings: AU, Violence
Word count: 6,895
Summary: Undercover cop and a Mob Boss's boy toy, it's like neither of them knows who they are anymore.
A/N: hug______ secret santa fic for foliaceous
Paper Gangster
I. Let sleeping dragons lie.
Yoochun heard the quiet chuckle of the Goon behind him but he didn’t look up, he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, feel or breathe passed the pain. He hurt everywhere, it was impossible to distinguish what hurt and just how or where. He heard the Goon laugh again and this time Yoochun was able to move his head just that little bit to the side to look at the source of that laughter. Not that it afforded him a better view of anything, he was lying prone on the damp floor so all he could see was the Laughing Goon’s scuffed but expensive shoes. Yoochun’s face was pressed into a shallow puddle of water mixed with some substance Yoochun didn’t want to contemplate and if he lay like this much longer then he was going to drown in that little pool. He tried, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care about that.
“I think we hit him too hard.” The Laughing Goon said. Yoochun heard the other Goon snort which he took as being some kind of acknowledgement that, yes, they had hit him too hard. Yoochun tried to snort in acknowledgement too, but it came out as more of a gurgle. Laughing Goon laughed again and his scuffed but expensive shoes moved out of his line of vision.
“This is a waste of time.” Snorting Goon said. Or at Least Yoochun thought it was Snorting Goon, they both kind of looked and sounded the same. Like two big and burly clones of each other. Yoochun is sure that they have names, he was sure that at some point during his capture he had heard someone use the names that the Goons had. He is also sure that he didn’t give two shits and that he really, really just wanted this to be over.
“Do we really have to stay and watch this piece of shit? He’s not going anywhere.”
Yoochun tried to snort in acknowledgement of that point too. He really wasn’t going anywhere, except hell. He tried to move his arm but all he managed was a slight twitch of his fingers, which was some sort of progress.
“We have to wait for The Boss.” Laughing Goon said. There was a bored, unimpressed tone to his voice that Yoochun is pretty sure that he had to have practiced.
“I need a smoke.” Snorting Goon said. “I’m going outside.”
“He’s awake. Can’t leave him.” Laughing Goon said and there were footsteps, both Goons came to stand in front of him. Oh this was not going to be good. A foot connected with the side of Yoochun’s head and the dank world around him faded into black and for a small, blissful while nothing hurt at all.
*
When he came to again it was to the steady symphony of impatient noises. He heard whispered, angry sounding voices, someone pacing back and forth with quick authoritative steps, he heard someone else nervously shuffle their feet. He didn’t want to open his eyes, if he didn’t open his eyes then they wouldn’t know he was conscious.
“Wake him up. Now.” A cool voice said. The voice was quiet, but it held an authority that was unquestionable. Great, The Boss was here.
Cold water splashed over him which was just perfect because it wasn’t like he wasn’t already cold and wet and miserable enough already. Though the shock of the ice water did have the effect of clearing his fogged up head. Yoochun coughed and spluttered and tried to push himself up and away from the now considerably large puddle he was lying in, but he had little to no strength left in his body and his arms buckled under the strain and he face planted on the ground again.
“Pathetic.” The Boss Sneered. “Pick him up since he can’t seem to do it himself.”
Strong hand gripped Yoochun’s upper arms and hauled him bodily to his feet. The sudden movement was fast and hard enough to almost rip one of Yoochun’s arms from its socket and Yoochun bit back the cry of pain that threatened to break forth. He hadn’t cried out during any of the previous beatings and he was damned if he was going to give any of these bastards the satisfaction of starting now. They could get there sadistic jollies somewhere else. He couldn’t stand properly, couldn’t support his own weight so he just hung there limply in the Goon’s grip, this non action put pressure on his injured shoulder but he couldn’t do anything about it. One of the Goons holding him was Laughing Goon, he recognized the shoes.
There were more people in this little dungeon with him now, besides The Boss and the two Goons set to guard him. Idly, Yoochun wondered how long he was out this time, night had long since fallen and Yoochun was pretty sure that the last time he was aware of his surroundings it was close to twilight. Coloured lights glowed in through the small window placed high in the wall, the gaudy green and red of Christmas. Somewhere a jaunty jingle tinkled out of a broken down radio, given his situation the tune sounded awful and macabre. The Boss apparently arrived while Yoochun was out cold bringing his entire entourage with him. No wait…Yoochun looked around at the assembled cast of characters and noted that there were quite a few of The Boss’s usual aids missing. Not that this information did Yoochun any good, it didn’t matter that there were less people for him to contend with, he was in no condition to put up a fight. A physical one anyway. Just because he was going down doesn’t mean that he was going to go down quietly. Yoochun looked up at The Boss and offered him what he hoped was a winning smile. When he smiled he tasted blood, but that wasn’t a surprise, he could feel the cut on his lip. The wound seemed to pulse in time with his heart beat.
“Hey,” Yoochun drawled in English. His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears. “This is quite some party.”
The few minions The Boss had brought with him all had their attention focused on him, Yoochun could feel the weight of their collected glares. They were all waiting to take their pound of flesh out of him. The door to his little cell had been left open and someone stood back by the shadows. Yoochun couldn’t get a good look at him, whoever it was they didn’t seem to want to come any further into the room then they had to.
“Cut the crap, Micky.” The Boss said. He walked up to Yoochun, leaned in close. His breath stank of expensive whisky and even more expensive cigars, it made Yoochun want to throw up. The Boss spoke in heavily accented English but then switched back to Korean. “Or should I call you Park Yoochun?” The Boss smiled but that smile didn’t reach his eyes, they remained cold and calculating.
Yoochun tried not to let his smile falter. He guessed already that he was here because his cover had been blown, but there had been that small part of him that had hoped that he was here because The Boss suspected him of fiddling with the take of the delivery business he ran. Either scenario would result in Yoochun’s very slow and very painful death but if Yoochun’s cover had been blown then it wasn’t just Yoochun in the firing line and that thought was enough to make Yoochun’s heart stop all on its own. Yoochun’s eyes flicked back to the person lurking by the door, an involuntary motion. He didn’t want to look there, he didn’t want to see that person’s face. That person had moved a little further into the room and they were still cast in shadows, but the shape of their outline, the way they stood hunched over and unsure, it was so heartbreakingly familiar. Yeah, Yoochun was pretty sure he was going to throw up and hey, if he aimed it just right he might get it all over Laughing Goon’s stupid scuffed shoes. Well, he was going to die horribly soon anyway.
“Park Yoochun,” The Boss said again. “Now I have you.”
“Yes you do.” Yoochun said in Korean. There was no point keeping up the pretence anymore, if they knew his real name then they knew that he wasn’t a Korean-American on the run from the law in the states. Part of that cover had been that ‘Micky’ didn’t speak any Korean, thus ensuring that The Boss’s more idiotic employee’s didn’t keep their fool mouths shut when ‘Micky’ was around. “You’ve got me.” Yoochun tried to keep his voice light and agreeable. Show no sign of fear Yoochun old boy, show no sign of fear. “But have you got a breath mint? Because I would consider that to be more important.”
Yoochun didn’t see the blow coming, The Boss moved quickly despite his ample size. Yoochun braced himself for the hit anyway, it’s a predictable reaction, if you smart mouth the bad guy then you should expect to get socked in the gut. The breath whooshed out of him in a rush and he gasped and fought to be able to breathe again. The Boss laughed and walked away.
“Fucking cockroaches.” The Boss muttered. I get rid of one of you and another one takes its place.
Yoochun glared at The Boss but The Boss didn’t see the baleful expression, he was facing away from Yoochun, he faced toward the open door and the person standing there in the shadows.
“I trusted you Micky.” The boss said. He spoke to Yoochun but his words were directed at the shadow man, Yoochun was fairly certain it was a man. Yoochun felt his gut twist. No, no, no, no. The Boss turned back to him, his gaze steady and intent. “I saw potential in you. I consider myself to be a smart man and I believed in you, this was my failing and your doom.”
Yoochun rolled his eyes. His doom. Right, of course. He bit back his clichéd response and instead he looked away, looked down at the ground and hung his head slightly in that humiliating gesture of subservience that he’d had to adopt once he started this assignment. All The Boss’s employee’s adopted it, Yoochun hated it and he knew it wasn’t going to do him any good now but he couldn’t help it and he hated himself for doing it but he had to keep the boss talking, he had to know how much of his story The Boss knew. No one was coming to save him but there was one person that Yoochun could still save. The Boss knew that Yoochun was a spy and he had to know now that Yoochun was a cop.
But did he know that Yoochun had been working with someone else within the organization? Someone very, very close to The Boss.
Yoochun hoped, almost desperately so, that he didn’t.
II. Stop, rewind.
Yoochun didn’t want this assignment. Dread pooled low in his stomach, cold and ugly, as he looked at the photos spread out on the table in front of him. He’d given most of them only cursory glances, crime scene photos, mug shots of various members of the organization that had already been arrested. He only had eyes for two of the pictures. One was of a body pulled from the Han River two days ago. The body was bloated and deformed from its time in the cold waters, livid bruises and deep clear cuts covered the skin on its arms and torso and face. The face was so badly marred that it wasn’t recognizable as a face at all. DNA tests identified the body - him - as a Police Officer. The undercover agent that Yoochun was set to replace.
The other photo that held Yoochun’s attention so was that of The Boss himself. Boss Chang, head of the organization and the biggest Kingpin in Korea - allegedly. It was a candid shot of The Boss taken as from across the street as he got out of his Limo and walked to his club. Chang was a large man, tall, well built, as his years advanced he packed on a fair few pounds of fat but most of his bulk was muscle. He kept in shape and didn’t look close to being his age, 55, the Police had a copy of his birth certificate. Chang was smart and he kept a legal and above board paper trail, all his public businesses were above reproach, he paid all of his bills and taxes in full and on time. Despite the numerous spies and informers the Police had placed with Chang’s organization they had yet to garner any evidence that would hold up in court about Chang’s not so public businesses.
In this photo The Boss had his arm curled protectively around the waist of his boy toy, a dancer from one of The Boss’s clubs, one of that club’s more popular attractions. He was know as Xiah. Xiah wasn’t looking at the camera but from his closed expression and stiff posture Yoochun could tell that Xiah knew it was there, that he was being watched.
Xiah. Yoochun hated that name, hated this whole situation. Xiah’s real name was Kim Junsu and he wasn’t first undercover agent the KNPD had sent into the organization but he was the longest lasting and he was the one who had managed to get the closest to The Boss himself. He was also the reason that Yoochun hadn’t wanted to take this assignment but he was also the reason that he ultimately had to.
Yoochun looked at the photograph of Chang and Xiah, he looked at the tense expression on Junsu’s face. No, Xiah. He had to think of him as Xiah, one little slip up would mean death for the both of them. Rage roiled inside Yoochun’s gut at the thought of Chang touching him, at the thought of the things Junsu - Xiah dammit - has had to do to get so close to that asshole. Involuntarily Yoochun flashed back to the last time he had seen Junsu. That had been the last time Yoochun had held him, kissed him. It had been a hard, angry kiss that preceded hard, angry sex. Yoochun’s face coloured at the memory of Junsu writhing beneath him, moaning Yoochun’s name. Yoochun closed his eyes, pushed the photo away, he didn’t want to look at it anymore, didn’t want to do this. He stood up from the table, kicked his chair away, the other officers in the room didn’t say anything but there was an uncomfortable cough. Yoochun thought it might have come from his Superintendent.
Yoochun knew that none of the officers assembled here had any idea of his and Junsu’s - Xiah fucking dammit, he’s Xiah and you’re Micky - prior relationship. He knew that is they did then he wouldn’t be allowed within fifty feet of this investigation. He knew that his bigoted Superintendent would be doing everything in his power to get them both struck from the force.
Yoochun opened his eyes, looked at his lieutenant who nodded gravely at him.
“You ready, Micky?” He asked?
Yoochun managed to croak out a yes but that was a lie. Yoochun didn’t think he would ever be ready.
III. Could have waited for you all day.
Yoochun was cold. The bone deep weary kind of cold. His clothes and hair were wet from the bucket of ice water thrown over him, his skin was drenched in a cold sweat. His teeth clattered and he trembled. He exaggerated his teeth chattering slightly because god forbid anyone think he was trembling because he was scared.
He was afraid, yes, but it was that stupid kind of fear where he wasn’t afraid for himself. That ship had sailed and he was adrift on the seas of the ‘soon to be made dead’. No, he was afraid for someone else. So, so, so afraid. He was alone here in this situation, it was just him. That someone he was afraid for wasn’t with him and Yoochun had to blink his eyes and shake his head to clear away the visions of a slit throat and that someone’s body covered in blood.
There was a noise from the doorway, a soft gasp and a quiet scuffling. The person lurking there had edged further out of the door as if they were waiting for The Boss to be completely distracted so they could make a break for it. The Boss turned halfway towards the noise, Yoochun could still see his face in profile so he saw it clearly as The Boss’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. The kind expression looked out of place on The Boss’s face, wrong. Yoochun fought the urge to rip out of his captor’s grip and punch that smile off Chang’s face.
“It’s ok, baby.” Chang said, his voice soft and cajoling. Baby? Yoochun was finding it really, really hard not to vomit. “I’m sorry you have to see this but I do need you with me.” Chang turned completely away from Yoochun and towards the person in the shadows. “Come here.” Chang said and his tone might have been calm and inviting but there was no room for doubt that this was an order. A figure moved out of the shadows, Yoochun could see him clearly now and heart and breath lodged in his throat.
Despite the fact that Yoochun had been working undercover in the organization for the last six months and had been working with Xiah for most of that time, Yoochun hadn’t actually seen him. He hadn’t seen him face to face since Junsu stopped being Junsu and became Xiah, that had been a year and a half ago. The closest Yoochun had come had been just after Yoochun had started work for Chang under his cover of ‘Micky’. Yoochun had stopped by Chang’s main club to pick up a delivery and Xiah had walked passed, or it was more like he swaggered passed, all puffed up with confidence, wearing tight leather pants that hugged the curve of his ass just right. That had been before Yoochun had been able to contact Xiah through the channels that had been set up, it had been before Xiah had even known that his last contact had been murdered. Yoochun had seen a flare of panic in Xiah’s eyes when he saw Yoochun, but it was there for only a minute and then it was gone. Junsu never had a good poker face, Xiah’s however was flawless. Since then they had only communicated through furtive phone calls, Yoochun only got to hear Xiah’s voice for a minute at a time and he savoured every second.
Xiah looked almost the same now as he did all those months ago, except his hair had been dyed a deep red and it - along with his kohl lined eyes - made him look painfully young and hard. When Junsu had been given this assignment, information on Chang’s taste in partners had just been rumours and hearsay. But the department had been willing to take a gamble, if Chang didn’t go for it then they would have pulled Junsu out and tried again with some other bait.
Yoochun hated Chang with a passion that bordered on fanatic.
As Xiah walked unsteadily closer to them Chang reached out an arm and curled it around Xiah’s waist, pulling him into a one armed hug. The gesture was at once both tender and possessive and it made Yoochun see red. He wanted to scream and shout at Chang to get his filthy hands off his Junsu. Yoochun couldn’t help himself, he lunged forward and tried to speak but the words came out as a defiant snarl. The Goons still holding him pulled him back roughly, Yoochun heard a soft ‘pop’, pain - fiery and hot - flared through his arm and over his shoulder and he knew that one of his shoulders had to now be dislocated, but both of them hurt so much that he couldn’t tell which one it was.
Yoochun heard The Boss laugh and he looked up, he tried not to look at Xiah but it was hard. The Boss regarded him with amusement, Xiah just stood there, his expression blank, his face so pale and still that it could have been carved from stone.
“I trust you are finished with the useless escape attempts?” The Boss sneered. Yoochun didn’t bother giving a response, he was too busy trying to calm his rapid breathing. “Now that my most trusted associates have been assembled we can get on with tonight’s main event.”
Yoochun’s heart sped up, it beat a loud jungle rhythm against his chest, it felt like it was trying to beat its way to freedom - to Junsu. Yoochun had to fight to breathe. He’d been sure that if Xiah had been brought to this place then it would have been for some kind of cruel joke. He’d thought that Chang knew everything and that he was going to slit Xiah’s throat right in front of him. Yoochun was afraid that he was going to have to stand and watch his Junsu bleed. Watch him die. He didn’t know what to do with the relief that it was the case, his knees gave out and he sagged again in his captor’s grip.
Junsu was going to be ok.
That was assuming, of course, that Junsu played along the way he was supposed to. He was likely going to have to stand there and watch Yoochun die instead. Xiah would have to watch, but Yoochun hoped that he hadn’t screwed up so badly that Junsu wouldn’t care.
*
“I know who you are, Park Yoochun.” The Boss said and his voice was nothing more than a low rumble of menace. Yoochun met The Boss’s eyes, they were cold and empty of all reason. There was no sign of the kind expression he had graced Xiah with. “I know who you are working for, I just don’t know who you are working with.”
And that right there, Yoochun knew, was the only reason he hadn’t already been fitted for his cement shoes. The Boss might not suspect his little boy toy but he did suspect someone. In the months since Yoochun had be working under the cover of the hapless ‘Micky’ the Human Rights PD had made major head way into disrupting Boss Chang’s businesses - alleged. Chang specialized in human trafficking. Yoochun knew it. The KNPD knew it. But Chang was a smart and slippery fucker, doing all his dealing using proxy’s . Despite information from Yoochun, from Xiah, from the now deceased Lee Jaesun they had yet to get any solid evidence that would not be considered entrapment.
Fucking lawyers.
Even now, the only link the had between Chang and the dead Police Officer was that he had been working for Chang as part of his cover at the time of his death. At least once Chang ordered Yoochun’s death Officer Kim Junsu would be an eye witness. Chang was going to go down for that one.
“Do you expect me to talk?” Yoochun asked in English. He slurred the words in a mangled attempt at a Scottish accent. Chang just stared at him, one evil eyebrow arched in annoyance. Yoochun wasn’t sure how eyebrows could be evil, but Chang’s just were. Everything about him was evil.
There was silence. The silence stretched on for a few tense filled minutes, the only sounds in the room were the drip, drip, drip of a out of sight leaky pipe and Yoochun’s laboured breathing. “Awww come on, work with me here.” Yoochun said once the silence got too much for him to bear. “What’s the point of getting myself caught if I can’t engage in witty banter with the bad guys?”
“Your wit leaves little to be desired.” Chang said calmly. “Let him go.”
That last order was obviously meant for the Goons holding him because no sooner had the words passed Chang’s lips then Yoochun was dropped to the floor. He landed with a surprised ‘oomph’, the palms of his hands scraped on the ground in his belated attempt to brace for impact. Yoochun was aware of the people in the room as the gathered around him, he could feel their malice press down on him like it had a physical form. Oh God, this was really, really going to hurt. Chang walked slowly and deliberately to stand in front of where Yoochun now lay, Yoochun had a good view of his shoes. Lovely. They were also expensive (naturally,) but they weren’t scuffed, they were almost immaculately clean except for a small smudge of something at the tip of one toe. The smudge looked suspiciously like blood and Yoochun had the irrational urge to reach over and wipe it away.
“We’ll be leaving you now, Mr Park. But I am sure that Mr Kim and Mr Bang will take good care of you.”
What? He was leaving?
“But that’s so anti climatic.” Yoochun said and he hated how weak his voice was starting to sound. He coughed and was pretty sure he coughed up blood. “You call an ominous meeting, you’re all gloating and ‘aha now I have you’ and then you just up and leave?”
The Boss chuckled but there was no mirth in it.
“I’ve met many men like you, Mr Park.” Chang said, his voice even, calm, empty. “Men who think they are doing what is right and good. The last spy I had disposed of was very much like that. I tortured him for hours and he never said a word. Righteous idiot.” Chang’s empty tone turned derisive like being a good man was beneath contempt. “I’m a busy man, Mr Park, and I don’t have any more time to waste on you. You will live for a few more hours, we will see if whoever you are working with decided to fight or flight. I have let word of your situation slip through some of my less trust worthy grapevines. If your partner is anything like you then he will rush to your aid. If not then he will run. Either way we will know who he is. I will find out who is undermining my authority even if I have to rip apart my organization from the inside out. I can always rebuild, people, things are replaceable.”
“You kill me now and the whole KNPD will know what you’ve done.” Yoochun said. Chang laughed.
“First they will have to find the body.”
Yoochun tried to push himself up. His right arm wouldn’t work, that’s the one that’s dislocated then, so using his left arm and his legs he managed to work himself into a sitting position. He was not going to meet his end lying down, he just wasn’t. He looked up in time to watch Chang wrap an arm around Xiah’s waist and lead him out of the little room. Watching Junsu - Xiah - leave was the most painful thing he’d experienced so far. Xiah looked back over his shoulder and Yoochun saw pain in his eyes and a flash of anger, defiance and in that moment Yoochun felt a stab of sympathy for Boss Chang and that sympathy left a bitter taste in the back of his throat.
Boss Chang was a dead man walking and he wouldn’t even see it coming.
The rest of Chang’s minions filed out after him and Yoochun was left with only two men standing over him. Goons Laughing and Snorting, AKA Mr Kim and Mr Bang. Just perfect.
“Could I interest either of you in some witty banter?” Yoochun asked dryly. Neither Goon answered him but then he didn’t really expect them to. He braced himself and then the beating started.
He stopped feeling it after a while. These guys were good at inflicting pain but they weren’t masters, relying on punches and kicks to delicate places. There is only so much of this that a body can take before it hurts so much that any more blows are superfluous. Yoochun didn’t even realize when he lost consciousness. It was just that one moment it hurt and the next it didn’t and he was floating into a warm, friendly, familiar dream.
IV. Way back when
Yoochun felt safe, cared for. He felt like he had come home. He was dimly aware that he was dreaming, this was a long forgotten feeling and he had no idea just how much he had missed it until right now. So if this was a dream then he didn’t ever want to wake up from it.
He opened his eyes, blinked a few times to adjust to the almost unnaturally bright light. He thought he heard the steady drip, drip, drip of an out of sight leaky pipe, but that wasn’t so unusual. He recognized the room he found himself in as his old apartment, the one he had shared with Junsu. Well, calling it an apartment was a bit optimistic - it was more like a large room in a run down building. But it had four walls, something that passed for a bathroom, plumbing that sometimes worked and heating that didn’t. And it had Junsu. Back then they had been the next best thing to penniless, just trying to make their mark on the world. Yoochun had played piano at a club styled after the American Jazz clubs of the 1940’s and Junsu taught dance at the local studio. At first they just roomed together, sleeping on separate single bed on opposite ends of the room because the rent - even in this shack of a building - was too much for either of them to manage alone. Yoochun remembers the night their relationship slipped into something more. Their heads had been heavy from too much Soju and their mouths dry from too honest conversation. They’d pushed their beds together into the middle of the room because one bed was just not big enough for the both of them. But afterwards they had both crushed onto Junsu’s side because it was slightly more comfortable.
Yoochun was lying in the middle of that pushed together bed now, he could feel the divide pressing against his back. The door to the little bathroom was closed and Yoochun lay there listening to the thrum of the running shower and the steady drip, drip, drip of that out of sight leaky pipe. How long had it been since he had been here in the real world? Five years? Six? So much had happened since then it made Yoochun feel so old. He thought he heard another noise, a bang. Then another, and then another and then another. The sounds were muffled and distant but still, they sounded a lot like gun shots. Yoochun shrugged, they could have just as easily been someone’s car back firing.
Lying here in this place, it was hard for Yoochun to remember why he had joined the force at all, though he suspected that his reasons weren’t good. And Junsu had followed him because they hadn’t wanted to be apart.
The bathroom door opened and Junsu walked out, his image hazy, partly obscured by the steam coming from the now shut off shower. Junsu’s skin was pink, flushed from the hot water and yes, this was definitely a dream - their water heater had never worked that well. Junsu’s hair was black but when the light hit it as he walked across the room it glowed a deep red. Yoochun didn’t like that colour on him, but he couldn’t figure out why. Junsu knelt down by the bed and reached out a shaking hand, his fingertips were wrinkled from staying in the shower too long. Junsu lightly touched Yoochun’s head, a terribly gentle caress. When Junsu brought his hand back his fingers were coated in blood. Yoochun frowned, he couldn’t decide which one of them was bleeding.
“Please wake up.” Junsu said. His voice was a frantic whisper that seemed at odds with his clam demeanour. Junsu smelled clean, soapy. Yoochun liked it. “Yoochunnie, wake up!”
Yoochun blinked at him. He was awake, wasn’t he? You can’t be asleep in a dream, can you?
“My name is Micky.” Yoochun mumbled blearily. He had no idea why he said that and he knew that is was the wrong thing to say the moment he said it.
Junsu slapped him. Hard.
Yoochun woke up.
V. Safety and other clichés.
The hands shaking him awake were gentle but determined. Yoochun had a scant few seconds of that half asleep feeling where nothing registered and nothing hurt - and then reality set in. His cheek burned like it was on fire and it was strange that out of all his aches and injuries this should be the one that he focused on. Despite the pain it still took him a few minutes to realize that he was conscious, images, memories assaulted his disorientated mind an he didn’t want to open his eyes. If he didn’t open his eyes then he wouldn’t have to look at the four dank walls of his little prison. If he didn’t open his eyes then he wouldn’t have to face up to yet another beating - how much more could he take? If he kept his eyes close them maybe it would hurry up and be over.
He was tired.
Those gentle hands were still shaking him. They touched the exposed skin on his arms, mindful of his cuts and bruises. One hand cupped his cheek, the hand was so soft. So soft. The simple kindness of being touched so made Yoochun want to cry and something inside him snapped. This was too cruel. After all they had done to him, all they had to do to really break him was show him a little kindness. He felt tears leak out from under his eyelids, so hot and unwelcome that they scorched down his cheeks and he blindly kicked out at whoever was touching him. It hurt to move, he was weak and his kick had no real strength behind it. His care giver just calmly reached out and stilled his feeble movements. Yoochun fumed silently and opened his eyes - and his world stopped.
“Are you done flailing around?” Xiah asked him.
Yoochun tried to reach out to him but his arms wouldn’t work and it took him a confused moment to figure out why. Oh yeah, he was lying on his left side, his left arm trapped underneath him. His right arm was fucked - and the rest of him was pretty much fucked too.
“Xiah?” Yoochun said. Or at least he tried to. His throat was raw, his voice was barely croaked whisper like all his vocals had been screamed away.
“I don’t want to hear that name, not from you.” Xiah said. “Can you get up?”
That, Yoochun thought, was a really stupid question and Yoochun didn’t think it deserved an answer but Xiah - no wait, Junsu - seemed to be waiting for one. He shook his head.
Names were confusing, the world was confusing. Yoochun thought it would be best if he just shut his eyes again.
“Don’t you dare!” Junsu said, he sounded far away. Yoochun tried to concentrate on what Junsu was saying, he really did. But everything was fading to black and if he was lucky then maybe he could go back to that dream he was having. And this time he could join Junsu in that hot shower.
Junsu slapped him. Hard. Then he started shaking Yoochun again and this time there was nothing gentle about his touch. The motion made Yoochun’s stomach swirl.
“Wake the fuck up.” Junsu hissed. He enunciated his words slowly and carefully as if he were talking to a small child - or an idiot. “We have to get out of here and I can’t carry you out.”
Yoochun started to say “Well you’re going to have to.” The words came out only vaguely coherent. He opened his eyes and tried to fully focus on Junsu, his rescuer. At least he assumed he was being rescued, it would really suck if he was just imagining all this. It was like he had never really seen Junsu before. This man in front of him was different from the Junsu he remembered and wildly different from Xiah the dancer Junsu pretended to be. Yoochun remembered Junsu when he seemed almost impossibly young, smart but a little goofy with a disarming smile. He’d looked - and was - innocent, trusting. Yoochun remembered when it was those qualities that got Junsu promoted to the special unit, leaving Yoochun behind and propelling Junsu into the arms of Boss Chang. Yoochun had been petty and childish and it was too late now to pretend otherwise.
The Junsu that knelt before him looked older - despite the red hair and kohl rimmed eyes. Junsu’s eyes blazed with the fury of an avenging angel, Yoochun hoped to all hell that he wasn’t the one that Junsu was mad at.
“M’sorry.” Yoochun mumbled as Junsu pulled him to his feet. Yoochun was glad that Junsu was there to support him because there was no way he could support himself. Junsu pulled on Yoochun’s dislocated arm, but Yoochun couldn’t really feel it anymore.
The hallway outside was lined in blood, the shock of the sight was enough to make Yoochun stumble and almost bring the both of them to the floor. He had vague memories of being dragged down their earlier this evening - or yesterday, he didn’t have any real idea what time it was anymore. The labyrinth beneath Chang’s club had been dank and foreboding even then. Now it looked like something out of a horror movie. Bodies were strewn on the course ground, Yoochun recognized two of them as Goons Laughing and Snorting - but just barely.
“What?” Yoochun stammered out, Junsu shushed him.
“Escape now, explain later.”
Yoochun staggered in Junsu’s grip and he thought he heard Junsu growl. It was a strangely erotic sound and of course Yoochun’s libido would kick in now, it never did have a good sense of timing. But all urges become a moot point because he passed out again despite Junsu telling him firmly not to.
*
Light streamed in through curtains so thin they might as well not have been closed at all. The light hurt Yoochun’s eyes and he decided that waking up had been a bad idea and he squashed his face into his pillow. He could hear children joyfully screaming outside and somewhere someone was playing an R and B version of a Christmas Carol. Yoochun opened his eyes again, carefully, looked around. He was alone in the dingy clean blandness of a cheap motel room.
How the hell had he got here? Where was Junsu?
Yoochun felt the space in the bed beside him. The bed was large, the left side - Junsu’s side - was still warm. Someone had slept next to him but they were gone now, they hadn’t been gone for long. Yoochun tried to push himself up and then decided that was a really, really bad idea. He pushed the bed covers down a little, just enough to see the bruises marring his torso - and that he wasn’t wearing pants. The door to the room’s bathroom was open and Yoochun could hear the steady drip, drip, drip of the sink tap, or the shower.
The door to the main room opened and Junsu came in bearing coffee and a paper bag spattered with grease. Yoochun’s stomach roiled and he could decide if he was hungry or not.
“You’re awake.” Junsu said as he set the food down on the table. Yoochun’s first thought was to respond with something sarcastic but he didn’t have the energy and settled for a small nod instead. Junsu came and sat down on the bed, his posture a little awkward. The silence between them stretched on until it became uncomfortable. Yoochun had so many questions that he had trouble deciding which to ask first.
“Where are we?” He asked at last.
Junsu shrugged. “Not far from Chang’s place. You were too heavy for me to get far carrying you by myself. When you are feeling better we’ll move on.”
“What happened?”
Junsu shrugged again and got up and went to the table and picked up one of the coffees. “I quit.” Junsu said simply. Yoochun made a small choking sound and Junsu smile a little sadly. “You never did like my promotion.”
“We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.”
Junsu walked back over to the bed and handed the cup of coffee to Yoochun.
“Later.” Junsu said.
“Chang?”
“Dead.”
Yoochun wanted to ask how, why, but he was afraid to. Junsu smiled his sad little smile again and sat down next to him.
“Remember when you used to play the piano?” Junsu asked and Yoochun nodded.
“And you used to dance.” Yoochun said, and then he added “The non sexual kind.” Junsu made a face.
“Do you think it could ever be like that for us again?”
Yoochun smiled and it felt like it was the first time he had smiled in years and he nodded.
“Yeah, I really do.”
The end.