FIC: "Shoot to Kill"
Konbanwa, minnasan, I hope everyone out there in Cyberland is doing well! I had to come back from work early today because I got terribly sick with a chest cold. I'm recovering slowly but it's taking a while. (Alas, I couldn't find anyone to come in for me tomorrow so I'm going to try and plow through it.)
Anyhoo, it took me two days to write this sucker, but I want to thank the brilliant March for the inspiration and for letting me wander around in her little !verse she made. I hope you like it, love.
"Shoot to Kill"
By: Miracle Shining
PAIRING: 2U (YunChun), mention of actor Leehom Wang
RATING: NC-17
GENRE: Angst/Violence/Dark Themes/Explicit Sexual Situations
LEGAL JUNK: Don't own the 2U, they belong to each other.
SUMMARY: Yoochun may be an experienced assassin, but his current target far exceeds his skills. (Takes place in March's Mirotic!verse.)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This literally came to me after watching March's (march_kyo) newest fan vid located HERE. All I could see in my head after the video was an alternative world for the 2U involving assassins, intrigue and all the fun dark stuff that goes with it. This is March's vision, she's just letting me wander aimlessly around in it!
*****
Yoochun didn't know how long he had been following the man. He had been keeping to the shadows for almost two hours. He had learned when he started in his field that patience was a virtuous gift. However, he was in no mood to linger for long. His target had come to stop at the end of an abandoned dock. He seemed to be just meandering as if waiting for someone.
Yoochun wondered exactly what the man did that had him assigned to his trail. He rarely did anything that wasn't considered a major undertaking for his employer any more. For him to be left to follow a man and then shoot him in the head seemed a petty chore. He had been rather infuriated when his boss had informed him of his task. He had even argued with him, pointing out there were plenty of lower people in his field that could handle the job.
His employer refused to back down. Yoochun had left the plush office in a huff.
Now he was peeking around a brick building watching the other man. He was tall, with shorter cut hair, a little shaggy around his front. The man paused before peeling off his jacket and lowering it on a nearby shipping crate. Even in the dim lights, Yoochun could make out a distinctive wrap around his torso and curling up around his collar bone.
"He's been wounded." Yoochun muttered to himself.
Fantastic, his employer not only seemed to doubt his skills but had assigned him to a man who was already injured.
"Piece of cake." he mused inwardly.
The young man reached into his pockets and slowly drew out his dual caliber pistols. He had opted to leave the silencers back at his apartment. Even with a loud shot, no one would investigate until morning. It was risky to be out in this particular area alone at night. People kept to themselves in this part of the city.
Yoochun blew his longer bangs out from in front of his eyes and let his fingers caress the triggers. An inherint thrill shot through him at the mere pressure against his weapons. It caused his blood to sing and his heart to beat a little faster. His dual pistols were his prized possession and just handling them made him feel whole.
He once again turned his head just a little to gaze around the corner. The taller man was focused on the waves that were lapping and swirling on the dock. Yoochun almost made his move when the sound of a couple wooden boxes came crashing through the silence. The young man immediately pulled away, holding back at gasp of shock. The very faintest click could be heard and he barely tilted his head around the corner.
The man had a handgun drawn and had it aimed directly at the fallen cargo. A shrieking series of meows could be heard as two cats came out from the destruction, hissing and swatting the whole way. Yoochun watched as the man lowered his weapon.
"So he's armed. No problem, it's a basic handgun, I'll have it out of his hands in no time." he mentally noted.
Once again, Yoochun applied pressure to the triggers of the guns. He could feel the heat behind the bullet cage seem to whisper into his brain. The barrels of his weapons felt warm and it caused a indistinct flush to rise to his cheeks. The adrenaline soared through his veins as he spun silently off the wall and leveled his guns at his target.
He was stunned to see only the debris from the fallen crates and the empty dock. The only sound that greeted his ears was the sloshing of night ocean against the posts. Yoochun blinked for a moment and ventured a single step outward.
Without warning, an incredible amount of pressure met his windpipe. He let out a choked gasp of air as his feet lifted off the ground. He could see little spots in front of his eyes as his lungs continued to tighten. The dual pistols began to slip from his curled fingers as he tried to find purchase against the unseen assailant.
His body suddenly cocked backwards and he could feel his whole form move in reverse. The spots behind his eyes were losing color and he could inwardly sense that his vision was turning black. The few breaths he was able to catch were knocked out of him as his back impacted the brick wall he was positioned near. His throat felt like it was on fire and he could only drag in little trembles of rapidly escaping air.
His dimming eyes turned slowly to the left to see a chiseled, handsome face staring back at him. His expression was like steel, cold and calculated. The man turned the youth's head back and forth before leaning farther forward. He sniffed at Yoochun's hair and then pulled back. The pressure on the smaller man's throat didn't let up and Yoochun could feel his eyes beginning to roll backwards.
Before he slipped into unconciousness, the grip around his neck loosened just enough. The cold breeze from the nearby water flooded his lungs and caused his throat to constrict. He coughed violently as he tried to pull in the clean oxygen. He barely stopped coughing when the hand around his throat tightened again. Though it was still painful, the grip now allowed for him to suck in a serious of steady breaths.
He was ready to turn his eyes to look at the man again when his sharp, soft voice ceased any movement.
"Keep your eyes foreward."
Yoochun could feel his mouth drying. He tried to nod but the hand at his neck kept his head at bay.
"You've been the one following me for a while now, haven't you?" the man questioned.
The smaller had learned early on to never expose why you were there. He started to shake his head when the hand tightened again, making his windpipe feel two sizes smaller.
"I'll ask you again, were you the one who was following me?"
".....yes...." Yoochun barely squeaked out.
"Drop your weapons." the man cooly responded.
Yoochun began to feel the first pangs of panic rising up into his veins. It had been years since he had been in a position that required him to disarm. He tried to raise one of his pistol clad hands when he stopped mid motion.
"You try to fire on me and I'll snap your neck in two, do you understand? Now drop your weapons."
His precious calibers, the virtual extensions of his body, came loose from his curled fingers and clattered to the ground. The sound cut through his near suffocation. It felt as though it was his own bones that had struck the pavement.
"Good boy. Now we can finally talk."
Yoochun felt the man use his hand to turn his head. His blurred vision once again met that same handsome, cool face. Right beside the man's cheek was a gun of exquisite make and model. It seemed to shimmer even in the moonlight. One the sides of the weapon were tiny little marks, one right after another. Somewhere in Yoochun's confused mind, he had remembered hearing a rumor of such a gun.
"....you're him.....you're Ghost....." he managed to sputter out.
The man only gave a slight smile and struck out with the gun clad hand. Yoochun barely felt the impact. The world went from a blurred haze to a pitch black night.
*****
The bare humming of a light stung the very back of his skull. Yoochun moaned softly as he tried to open his eyes. A searing shot of pain flew right up his neck and settled at the base of his head. He grimaced inwardly as he tried to pry open his lids again. Dim light pierced through his clenched lids and the spots that seemed to have become his constant companion danced in front of his vision. He slowly blinked and finally his pupils shrunk as he became adjusted to the quiet illumination.
He was in a rather plain looking room. He barely glanced down to see he was sitting in a wooden chair. There was a bed with a single blanket in front of him, a table covered with a series of papers and a lap top. He could hear the sound of running water. Slowly, he risked turning his head. The pop of his neck caused him to wince. He remembered too clearly the hand around his throat as his bruised skin protested. There was a single light bulb lit up in a makeshift room that seemed to be a kind of bathroom. The water streamed out from a old, chipped sink.
Yoochun moved his head a bit more and then tried to stand. His movements were ceased as he realized his hands were bound behind his back. He tried to shift his legs to find his ankles were bound. He blew out his air and was somewhat relieved to find he wasn't gagged. In least not yet.
The water turned off in the nearby room. The youth's acute hearing captured the noise of someone shifting around. He began to slowly shift back and forth in his chair. He was too good at what he did to be tied to a chair. As he moved, the chair's leg barely lifted and settled with the tiniest of clacks on the cement ground.
A cold barrell was pressed against the temple of his head with an unforseen amount of speed. Yoochun froze in his position.
"Well, I see you're awake." came the man's voice.
Yoochun just swallowed as the pistol was lowered from the side of his head. The man moved from beside Yoochun and crossed to stand in front of him. The darker haired youth looked at him. The man's bandaged torso had come undone and an obvious trickle of red was starting to stain the fallen wrappings.
"What's your name?" his now captor questioned.
Yoochun pressed his lips together. The first thing he had been ever taught when he went into his field was never reveal his identity. It was better to die than have anyone know who you truly were.
The man just sighed and walked over to the bed. Yoochun watched little droplets of blood dribble behind him. His eyes focused on the other's strong back as he bent forward a little. He turned back after a moment and in his free hand were Yoochun's dual pistols. They hung aimlessly from the other's fingertips.
".....my guns...." Yoochun barely whispered.
The taller man spun his own weapon between his fingers. Even in the dim light, Yoochun could still see the glints of the many marks on the man's gun. He had no doubt in his mind now. This man was the one who only exsisted in rumor.
"Your pistols are nice, but their weight is off. You need to lighten up the base design a little. Even a gram or two off could cause some real damage if they don't fire off correctly."
Yoochun looked dumbly at the other as the man simply set the guns on the floor. He saw the barest twitch in his countenance as the bandages fell farther off. There was a sizeable wound becoming more visible as the stranger simply slid the dual pistols across the floor. They came to stop at Yoochun's feet.
"Nice though. He must have been very fond of you."
The younger man gave the other a look of surprise.
"....he?...." Yoochun asked very quietly.
"Wang Leehom. He's the one who sent you, isn't he? Those are his trademark pistols. He only gives them to his specialists he holds in high esteem."
The taller man coughed a little and a bit of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. He wiped it with the back of his hand and settled across from Yoochun on the bed. He pushed the blanket aside and pulled out a small box. Yoochun watched with a mix of bizarre curiosity and repressed fear as the man drew out a long spindle of thread, a rather large, hooked knitting needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a scissors.
"Sorry I had to mess up your neck and crack you on the skull. I wasn't exactly thinking straight when you found me. You would have had a clean shot too. I'm surprised you didn't take it." the man murmured.
The other unravelled a long piece of string from the spindle. He cut off the end and then picked up the sewing needle. He dipped the hooked part and the end into the bottle before stringing the thread through. Yoochun's eyes widened as the man pushed off the remaining bandages around his waist and began to pinch together his torso wound.
"I think I might have a lost a bit more blood than I thought." the taller said idly. "My hands are shaking pretty bad."
The smaller youth watched as the taller pressed the tip of the needle through the very corner of his skin. He let out a deep hiss as the metal slid through his stained flesh. The skin puckered and pulled as the silver came out stained maroon. He pulled the string hard and the flesh meshed against itself. He took a deep breath and then dipped the needle back into his skin, drawing it through to the other side and piercing it back out, pulling the thread taut.
"Not the first wound I've received." the man half growled as the needle bit through his skin again. "Usually it's not in my torso though. I tend to get it in the arms or legs, even had one skim through my neck. These bleed too bad, makes it hard to work with."
The dark haired youth watched for a few more moments as his captor slid the needle through his skin. The area was becoming more reddened and the man's hands were trembling. Though every instinct told him otherwise, Yoochun opened his mouth.
"I could help you."
The specialist wondered where in hell the very idea came from. He was the one at this man's mercy and he was volunteering to help sew him back together. It wasn't just any man either. It was his target and also someone made of urban legend.
The other looked up at Yoochun. He offered the slightest of smiles and slowly stood from the bed. He picked up the scissors and half walked, half limped over to where the other one was tied. He reached behind and snipped through the bindings around Yoochun's wrists. Without thought, the young man's hands flew forward and grabbed at his dual calibers. He quickly raised them upwards, squaring them right at the man's heart.
The man gazed at the youth passively. He let out a soft sigh and simply turned his back and headed toward the stained bed again.
"You paused for too long. I could have plunged this scissors through your juggular and watched you flail for the next ten minutes until you bled out."
Yoochun's mind reeled at the simple admission. Why hadn't he fired? He could have easily done a point blank shot. The weight of his guns felt fine to him, he could still tell they were loaded. Even if they did feel a little lopsided, or that could be his imagination.
"You're going to have to get the binds off your ankles yourself. I'm afraid that my hands are getting pretty slippery."
The smaller man kept his guns held out in front of him. He could feel a kind of nervous ticking sliding up his spine. The taller sat back down on the bed and attempted to return to his work. His hands were shaking so hard he could barely get the needle lowered.
Yoochun saw the barest flicker of excruciating pain flit across the man's face. Slowly, he lowered his weapons, resting them on his thighs for quick retrieval. Without taking his gaze off his bleeding captor, he pulled at the binds around his ankles. The knots gave way easily and Yoochun grabbed his pistols and pushed off the chair.
The room spun just a little as the prior impact caused his head to throb. He waited until the rising wave of nausea subsided. The space stilled and he focused on the man sitting on the bed. His fingers were barely clinging to the coated needle. Blood was still dripping out of the wound.
"If you're going to shoot me, you better do it now. I'm not feeling a whole lot at the moment. Otherwise, make yourself useful and start stitching."
Yoochun wondered if his face was as shocked as he felt inside. Warily, he approached the bed and slowly sat down. The guns were still locked in his fingers.
"If you've got an extra set of arms, you better show them to me." his captor weakly joked. "Because I don't know of anyone who can sew and hold two pistols. Even I'm not that good."
The smaller gingerly lowered his guns to come and rest on his thighs. Hesitantly, he reached out and took the slicked needle from the other. The string was already covered in his red essence, making it smooth to the touch.
"We need to disinfect the string again." Yoochun suggested.
"All yours. Do what you need too." the other responded simply.
Yoochun reached over and grabbed the bottle, keeping his eyes on the other man's hands the whole time. The taller just remained where he was sitting. Yoochun tipped the bottle a little, rinsing off the thread. He applied a bit more alcohol to the needle and then looked at the other.
"Don't worry about how neat it is, it'll come out in a week or so anyways."
The younger nodded a little and gingerly leaned forward. He reached out his hand and applied pressure to the gape, closing it up further. He pulled on the thread and began to press it down into the other's skin. The man made the slightest of noises but remained very still. Yoochun felt a ball of saliva catch in his throat as he pulled the silver through the giving flesh. A little pressure, and the string went taut.
"You're pretty good at this. Must have sewn yourself up a few times."
"Not me, others." Yoochun responded quickly.
"Leehom must have really had it in for me this time."
"How do you know if I even work for him."
"Trust me, I know. You all have a certain signature about you." the other said flatly.
Yoochun scowled a little at that comment as he pushed the needle through again. Every specialist had their own particular style. He had always prided himself on being an individual. How this man knew he was employed to Wang Leehom was the first mystery. How he was able to pick it out was a completely different one. However, he was techinically sewing up a dead man.
"You're him, aren't you?" Yoochun pressed.
"Him?"
"The one they always talk about in whispers. The one called 'Ghost.'"
"Hmph, is that the name I've become known as?"
Yoochun pushed in the needle again. The gape was nothing more than a slender opening. A couple more stitches and it would hold until the other got medical help. If he got any at all.
"So you are him." Yoochun couldn't help but sound a little awed. "I could tell by your pistol. It has the Hundred Mark on it."
"Those little slashes are not something I'm exactly proud of." the other replied.
Yoochun exhaled as the last stitch moved into place, the needle appearing out the skin. He pulled the string tight and looked for the scissors. The taller lifted his hand, handing the sharp object to the younger. The specialist tied the knot with his stained fingers and snipped off the end. The other exhaled slowly as his torso loosened, the sewn area staying in place.
"Thank you." he simply said.
"Um, you're welcome?" Yoochun wasn't sure how to reply.
"Your name?" the taller asked as he began to push the bloodied bandages off his reddened bed.
"Micky."
"No, not your codename. Your real name."
"Park Yoochun." he said and then almost clamped his hands over his mouth.
"Park Yoochun. Nice name. My name is Jung Yunho."
"Jung Yunho?" Yoochun asked quietly.
Why would the man who was known as Ghost and carried the pistol bearing the Hundred Mark give his real name so freely? Why had he just done it himself?
"Thank you for fixing me up, Yoochun. I don't think I could have gotten through this one on my own."
Yoochun nodded and then realized he had completely forgotten about his precious pistols resting against his legs. Without thought, he quickly dropped his hands over them.
"You're pretty attached to them. I can understand that though, I'm still attached to my caliber. Even if it's nothing more than horrible memories. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
The brunette blinked at the red tinted haired man. He relaxed his hold on his weapons.
"A little thirsty, I guess."
"Yeah, sorry about your throat. Mind if I take a look at it?"
Yoochun eyed the other warily. Yunho held up his bloodied hands in open view.
"You can see that Hundred Mark is beside me, don't worry about it. Now let me look at that neck. It's pretty bruised."
Yoochun gave a the barest nod as the strange Yunho turned his chin and surveyed the damage. He picked up one of his bandages still on the bed and doused it with some of the rubbing alcohol. He reached up and pressed it against the tender skin. Yoochun hissed as his bruises protested.
"You're lucky I didn't break your windpipe, Yoochun. I would have had to dump you into the dock then. I'm not exactly feeling like making Hundred Mark a Hundred and One Mark."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Yoochun asked without thought.
He immediately felt his face burn in embarrassment. This was not a question that a specialist asks a would be target. However, the night definitely turned away from his favor.
"Why not? You were about to do me a big favor. I just reacted too quickly."
"Favor?"
"You were going to kill me. It would have been the nicest thing anyone could have done for me at that moment. But the chance has passed, so the least I can do is try and make up for you sewing me back together."
"You're a very strange man, Jung Yunho."
"Just Yunho."
Yunho finished dabbing at the bruises on Yoochun's neck.
"Tilt your head forward, I need to see if I cut the back of your head."
Without thought, Yoochun leaned forward. He felt Yunho's red, sticky fingers glide through his hair. He winced as his nails caught against a bump.
"Looks like I just gave you a good knock on the head, I don't see any blood." Yunho stated as he withdrew his hand.
"How can you handle the fact that I tried to kill you then let me stitch you together so calmly?" Yoochun burst out.
He didn't know why but somehow it made him angry. Some part of his had always dreamt that he would be the one to catch the mysterious Ghost. But here the man was sitting in front of him, he had ample time to shoot him and suddenly couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Don't worry, Chunnie, you haven't lost your nerve." Yunho said as if reading his mind.
"What are you talking about?!" Yoochun demanded.
"You work for Leehom still, you'll be back to your old self in no time."
"I never said I worked for him."
"How much did the Chinese American give you to track me down? Must have been a good sum, he never sends just anyone to try and find me."
"I... He didn't give me anything for this hit."
Yunho raised an eyebrow at that comment.
"He sent you out without any incentive? Either you're very, very good or very, very stupid."
Yoochun glared angrily at the man beside him.
"I took the mission because I wanted to be the one to catch the Ghost and bring back the Hundred Mark to him."
Yunho's face sobered immensely. He heaved a great sigh and laid his hand over his newly sewn torso.
"You and a thousand others." he whispered.
"What are you talking about?" Yoochun asked in suprise.
"You think you're the only one that Leehom has out looking for me? Think again. This little wound in my torso isn't because I randomly got stabbed. I just didn't want to fight at that moment. In fact, I don't really want to fight at all any more." Yunho finished quietly.
Yoochun saw a kind of shadow fall over the man's face. He felt his stomach flip as his appearance took on a whole different demeanor.
"You could still do me the favor, Chunnie." Yunho said wistfully.
The young man immediately grasped his guns as Yunho reached beside him and pressed the barrell of Hundred Mark against the temple of his head. His eyes went wide as the man began to pull the trigger. The cylinder whirled and clicked. Yoochun flinched, waiting for the blood to splatter. Instead, nothing happened. Another pull on the trigger and Yoochun had to bite back a scream of horror. Once again, nothing happened.
For two minutes, Yunho just stared out into the almost empty room, pulling the trigger and letting the hum of cylinder cut through the stillness of the room. Yoochun wondered if the man had completely lost his mind.
"You know, no matter how many times I hold Hundred Mark to my head, she just keeps clicking and clicking and being a tease about the whole thing. She never has bullets in her when I want them. Come to think of it, I don't remember the last time I put any in her." Yunho murmured.
Yoochun felt his heart seem to fall to the very pit of his guts. All he could see was a shell of a man and a terribly haunted face that looked like there was no hope in sight. Almost fearfully, Yoochun reached up and laid his hand over Yunho's gun clad one.
The man rapidly turned and without warning, Yoochun was suddenly pinned to the bed, Hundred Mark pressed directly at his heart.
"You see what I am?! Do you see this?! Is this what you want to become?! Is it?!" Yunho hysterically screamed.
Yoochun's eyes widened as the gun pressed hard underneath his chin. His own dual pistols were useless, Yunho's suprisingly strong knees had them trapped against his thighs. His wrists were held above his head by Yunho's free hand.
Yunho leaned downwards until their faces were almost against each other. His breath was hot and there was still a remnant of dried blood on the corner of his mouth.
"Shoot to kill, Yoochun. It's what we're trained to do. It's the thing that seperates us from mad men. The only difference is we usually get paid. Usually." Yunho's voice was dark and terrifying.
Yoochun felt his dual calibers fall from his shaking form. They somehow found their own way out and he cursed his precious companions for fleeing him. Hundred Mark was still pressed tightly against his chin. He knew there were no bullets inside the chamber but somehow the weapon was still horrible.
"I have killed man, woman, child and never once felt the pangs of guilt. Never once did I flinch when their brains splattered against the walls and painted everything red. But one day, as I etched in my hundreth mark on this little girl, I realized what I had become. I had become everything I hated. Every horrid, disgusting, perverse thing I despised, I now thrived in. I'm a beast, Park Yoochun. A beast that has to be tamed before I tear apart everything around me. Is this going to be your fate too?" Yunho growled.
Yoochun had never felt true fear until that moment. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball like a small boy and hide away from the fury that was blazing in the man's eyes. Instead, something else happened. He managed to get his arms to work and somehow forced his wrist out of Yunho's grasp.
The man saw the movement and instead of grabbing the hand, he let Yoochun move it freely. The younger took his shaking fingers and carefully lowered them, gripping Hundred Mark and moving it slowly out from under his chin.
He watched as Yunho seemed to be distantly observing his actions, almost as if he wasn't even there. Yoochun felt the pressure leave his jawline. He drew in a breath as his hand moved forward again and rested carefully against Yunho's sharp cheekline.
The man barely tilted his head at the action. He still had Yoochun's body trapped but his torso was trembling, the pain from the wound and the stitches starting to override his initial adrenaline shot. Yoochun let his palm frame the skin and he tried his best to hold Yunho's gaze.
"I don't know what you are, Yunho... You really damn scary and you're a killer. But you didn't kill me. Why?" Yoochun questioned as softly as possible.
Yunho's body shook more as the anger leeched out of his nerves. His pistol slipped out of his fingers and clattered to the ground. He still kept Yoochun's other wrist held over his head but the grip had loosened greatly.
".....because I see there is still life in you. There is nothing left in me, Yoochun. Nothing but this shell." Yunho shakily replied.
Yoochun saw the man's gaze go out of focus as he began to push off the other. The pressure around his thighs and arms relented. Yoochun realized that Yunho was freeing his body. Somehow, that idea caused him great distress.
Impetuously, he moved upwards as his upper body was let loose. His other wrist was giving free reign. He quickly grabbed Yunho's head and turned it to face him. Yoochun didn't know what possessed him, but he surged forward and crushed his mouth against Yunho's.
The man's lips tasted like ruby tinted death. They were cracked and a little aged and felt a touch like sand paper to Yoochun's smooth ones. He opened the eyes he hadn't known he closed to see Yunho's looking at him. The fury had left, the cloudiness lingering but a kind of recognition was filtering back into his mind.
Yoochun began to draw back when he felt Yunho's hand curl on the back of his head and bring their lips back together. The kiss became much more active as he could feel the taller man move his mouth over Yoochun's. He distantly wondered when he had lost his mind. He had to have gone crazy to be kissing the man he was supposed to kill.
Yunho drew back this time and he now looked much more like the man Yoochun had begun talking to ealier in the night. Despite Yunho's denial, there was kindness behind those hardened eyes.
"You better get out of here." Yunho said softly.
"Why?"
"Because if you don't leave, I'll probably do something awful to you."
"It's only awful if I say no, isn't it?" Yoochun replied.
Yunho let out a slow breath of air. Yoochun's hands were still around his face. He reached down and pressed his fingers to his wound. It throbbed angrily against his palm. He turned his attention back to the young specialist framing his face.
"It's going to hurt." Yunho stated.
"Yeah, I kind of figured that."
"I have spit and blood."
"It'll do."
Yoochun withdrew his hands and pulled at the jacket he was still wearing. The article tumbled off the bed. It landed over his beloved dual caliber companions. Yoochun paid no heed as he began to unbutton his shirt. Yunho made a slight sound of annoyance and reached out. Yoochun felt the yank and heard the buttons clattering in various places of the room.
"Impatient?" Yoochun half joked.
"Torso wound, remember?" Yunho returned, his tone slightly sarcastic.
The smaller man pulled the shirt off and tossed it over the side of the bed. He hooked the heels of his shoes and pried them off. His socks soon joined the growing pile of fabric. Yoochun went to undo his pants when he felt Yunho's hand rest over his groin.
He sucked in his air when the taller man cupped his bulge and applied pressure. He gasped as Yunho began to rock the palm of his hand back and forth over his fabric covered front. Yoochun tried to push his hands away when Yunho's sharp gaze stopped him.
The taller began to work Yoochun through his pants. The pull of his undergarments were strangely erotic. He tried to keep himself upright but another squeeze from Yunho's larger hands had him falling back on the already blood dripped sheets.
"What... What the hell are you doing?" Yoochun managed to get out.
"Getting you ready."
"Ready?"
Yunho's hand left Yoochun's groin and grabbed the glittering belt buckle. He unsnapped it and yanked it off with ease. The belt went sliding off the other side of bed. Yunho's fingers easily made work of Yoochun's button and zipper. The metal gave way to expose the growing tightness behind white frabic.
Yoochun felt his face flush as Yunho looked at his arousal behind this underwear. The elder continued to apply pressure to his torso with his free hand as he lowered his head downward. Yoochun's groan caught in his throat as Yunho licked at the fabric seperating his flesh from Yunho's tongue.
"I... I thought that..."
"You thought I was going to rush into it? For me, this is rushing. You'll have to excuse the lack of foreplay, Chunnie. It's been a long time for me and I just want to feel that in my mouth."
The youth tried to say something again to the other man when Yunho's free hand hooked his pants and pulled them down to his knees. He leaned back upwards, flinching a bit and yanked them off Yoochun's ankles. The coolness of the room now bit into Yoochun's prickling skin. He started to shiver and then his heels dug into the bed.
Yunho leaned down to mouth the bulge again before grabbing Yoochun's under garment and pulling it free. The white, wetted fabric joined the rest on the cement. Yunho's eyes fell upon the firm flesh. Yoochun craned his head to see Yunho lick his lips once. He collapsed back, his hands tangling in his own hair as Yunho's lips descened over him.
The elder enjoyed the feel of hot flesh moving in and out of his mouth. It had been too long since he had any form of intimate contact. The feel of Yoochun's hips starting to thrust caused Yunho's loose training pants to tighten and constrict. He rubbed himself slightly against the bed, his hand still resting over his new stitched.
Yoochun gasped as Yunho's tongue slid up the bottom, flicking over his tip before descending back downwards again. He had never felt anything so acute or erotic. He vaguely wondered how he he had ended up in this position with this dangerous man and then realized he didn't care. Yunho's mouth was sinful. Yoochun's fingers left his own hair and they slowly came to rest over Yunho's head.
The other almost pulled away, unaccustomed to mutual physical contact. Yoochun's fingers were gentle though and Yunho eased his head back downwards, feeling the press against the back of his throat. Slowly, he slipped upwards and licked his the palm of his hand.
Yoochun saw Yunho's tongue slide over his own hand. He had only kissed the man's lips twice and never once had that been in his mouth. He watched in fascination as Yunho lowered the wetted palm and encircled him again. He began to stroke, firm and fast, and Yoochun squirmed against the wrist motions.
"Y-yunho..."
"Yoochun." Yunho stated in an unusually gentle tone.
Almost as if the other had read the youth's thoughts, he continued to finger and stroke Yoochun's tip and flesh as he carefully leaned forward between his legs. He bent slowly and brought their mouths together.
Yoochun could feel Yunho's tongue slide into his mouth and seem to caress every nuance. He began to lick against Yoochun's tongue as his fist kept in time. Yoochun whimpered against the man's mouth, struggling to keep the rising pleasure at bay. He finally drew back, his face contorted as he tried to push Yunho's hand away.
"...i'll come." he whispered.
"I know." Yunho returned.
Yoochun didn't have time to understand as he suddenly jerked. His stomach flipped and his hips went forward. Liquid pearls spilled over Yunho's hand and dripped onto Yoochun's shivering stomach. The youth shook as he Yunho moved with the sticky hand. His body didn't have time to come down when he jerked against the older's fingers pressing against his opening.
"Ssh, it's going to hurt no matter what. I wanted you to have a little more lubrication is all."
Yoochun whimpered as one finger became two. It stung but his body was so hyper aware, the sting just seemed to add to the other sensations. He bit his lip as Yunho's fingers pushed deeper until they curled. Yoochun's eyes went wide as another shudder went up his spine.
"I wish I could do more for you, Yoochun. This is too fast for me but it's been too long."
Yunho pulled out his fingers and then spit on his already coated hand. He then slowly raised his hand from his torso. It was slicked with little drops of red. He pulled at the tie of his training pants and hooked the elastic. Yoochun watched as the man carefully eased the fabric over his hips and shook them off his legs.
The youth shivered as Yunho took himself into his hands. He began to stroke his flesh, a mix of saliva, Yoochun's essence and his own blood. The man positioned himself on his knees and pulled Yoochun's body toward him. The brunette could feel the blunt pressure against his opening.
"Take a deep breath."
He gave a shaky nod and drew in his air. His eyes clenched tightly and he let out a cry as Yunho pressed forward. It burned right to the base of his spine and had him almost tearing the sheets between his fingers. The burn seared for a moment longer and then his body gave way. The air rushed out of his chest and he tried to catch his breath. He felt incredibly full. An unexpected gentle touch against his face opened his eyes.
Yunho was gazing at him with an expression the young man had never seen in the few hours he had known the man. The older was wiping away the tears of pain from Yoochun's eyes.
"Let this be the only time I ever make you cry."
The words struck something deep inside Yoochun. He forced himself upwards, his arms coming around Yunho's neck, the man keeping himself upright on his knees. Yoochun wondered how this stranger, this deadly assassin, was making him feel something like he had never felt before.
Yunho began to thrust with Yoochun wrapped around his neck. The young man's heat was incredible and he could feel the throb at the base of his own flesh. Yoochun's arms were tight around his neck as Yunho moved the best he could with his damaged body. He could feel the youth's heartbeat against his chest. It was incredible to Yunho. He could feel life against him, instead of the final moments of death fading from his grip.
"Yoochun, look at me."
The specialist moved his head to look at Yunho. He let out little cries of pleasure as Yunho rocked him deeply on his body. But it was Yunho's gaze, so open and almost child like that captured Yoochun.
Yunho swore he could see hope in Yoochun's eyes. The thing that had been lost to him years ago. He pressed harder into the younger, wanting to leave his mark there. Wanting to imprint himself on Yoochun's form. He wanted to be what Yoochun thought of every night, even if just for a fleeting moment.
Yoochun could feel the deep thrusts move quicker into his shaking body. He continued to hold Yunho's gaze even as his fingers dug into the other shoulders. His tip was dripping and he let go of one of Yunho's shoulders to grip himself. It was wildly erotic feeling himself so utterly taken with the basest of needs.
Yunho's desire raised even more as he saw Yoochun take himself into his hand. He let out a deep growl and pressed in deeply, holding Yoochun down onto his knees. The youth's eyes went wide and he cried as Yunho's flesh pressed against that hidden spot. Unexpectedly, he shivered and spilled a little more over his hand.
Yunho watched Yoochun come for a second time. It was all it took for the older man to push hard and fast. His own climax hit him and he felt himself pour out into Yoochun's body. Inwardly, it felt as though some part of his dead soul was returning to life.
Yoochun shivered as he felt Yunho's heat coat his inside. It was incredible and deep from the young man. He didn't understand how it had led to this and part of him didn't want too. But despite the man's seeming insanity, Yoochun had never felt safer.
Slowly, Yunho let his body relax. He opened up his arms and let Yoochun slide down onto the bed. He gripped himself and withdrew. There was a mixture of his essence and their combined blood on the sheet. He barely smiled as Yoochun winced as he sat up.
"Sorry, I did more damage than I thought."
"It's okay, I'll heal. Like you will." Yoochun replied gently.
Yuhno only made a little sound of agreement. He replaced his hand to his torso, the act having been secretly painful but still glorious to the elder.
"Rest now, you'll need your strength."
Yoochun was ready to argue when he felt his body truly relax. Sleep overtook him before he had a chance to say anything to Yunho.
*****
Yoochun slowly opened his eyes. His body ached as he tried to sit up. He failed twice before pushing himself up with his arms. He finally managed to get upright and winced as the ache in his lower half became evident. However, the pang of pain brought a small smile to his face.
He looked behind him to find the bed was completely empty. His eyes widened when he realized how empty it was. There was no medical kit, no bandages, no other clothing. Frantically, Yoochun's head whipped forward. The chair was still sitting across from the bed but the cut rope ties were gone. The adjoining room had no water running.
Yoochun's eyes quickly went to the table. It was virtually clean accept for a single white piece of paper and a very familiar object laying on top of it.
He lowered his legs down to the cement, the ground cold to his bare feet. Grabbing the sheet, he pushed off and steadied his weakened body. He half walked, half stumbled over to the table. He pushed the recognized object to the side and picked up the white piece of paper.
Yoochun,
When you read this, I'll already be gone. Before you start yelling, let me explain myself. Last night you gave me something I haven't had in a long time.
You gave me a glimpse of hope.
I don't know how you did it and I'm not sure why you did it, but thank you. Maybe you were right last night when you told me I'll heal. You were the start of it.
I know you have to back to Leehom, it's just the way it is. I hope that some day you'll be able to turn your back on him like I did. Before you become the way I am.
I want you to keep Hundred Mark and give it to Leehom when you return. In truth, you have accomplished your mission.
You "shot and killed" the old me. Now I have to try and find out who I once was.
Yoochun, I don't know if our paths will cross again. But I want you to know I think I fell in love with you last night. Even when I thought it was impossible.
Be safe and do what you need too. And if what you need to do is find me and kill me, so be it. It will be worth it. Thank you again.
Love,
Yunho
Yoochun looked at Hundred Mark sitting on the table. He picked up the gun and then looked back at the piece of paper.
Carefully he folded the letter and walked back to the bed. He dressed in silence and headed toward the room's door. He reached the entry and looked back at the room that had changed everything.
He would return to Wang Leehom and hand him his obsession. He would then get reassigned to another mission. But he wouldn't let himself forget what happened last night in this room. He would hold it with him until he found Yunho again, no matter what the circumstances.
Yoochun paused only a moment longer before whispering into the room.
"I think I fell in love with you too, Yunho."
With that, Yoochun turned and headed back out into the world.
END
Anyhoo, it took me two days to write this sucker, but I want to thank the brilliant March for the inspiration and for letting me wander around in her little !verse she made. I hope you like it, love.
"Shoot to Kill"
By: Miracle Shining
PAIRING: 2U (YunChun), mention of actor Leehom Wang
RATING: NC-17
GENRE: Angst/Violence/Dark Themes/Explicit Sexual Situations
LEGAL JUNK: Don't own the 2U, they belong to each other.
SUMMARY: Yoochun may be an experienced assassin, but his current target far exceeds his skills. (Takes place in March's Mirotic!verse.)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This literally came to me after watching March's (march_kyo) newest fan vid located HERE. All I could see in my head after the video was an alternative world for the 2U involving assassins, intrigue and all the fun dark stuff that goes with it. This is March's vision, she's just letting me wander aimlessly around in it!
*****
Yoochun didn't know how long he had been following the man. He had been keeping to the shadows for almost two hours. He had learned when he started in his field that patience was a virtuous gift. However, he was in no mood to linger for long. His target had come to stop at the end of an abandoned dock. He seemed to be just meandering as if waiting for someone.
Yoochun wondered exactly what the man did that had him assigned to his trail. He rarely did anything that wasn't considered a major undertaking for his employer any more. For him to be left to follow a man and then shoot him in the head seemed a petty chore. He had been rather infuriated when his boss had informed him of his task. He had even argued with him, pointing out there were plenty of lower people in his field that could handle the job.
His employer refused to back down. Yoochun had left the plush office in a huff.
Now he was peeking around a brick building watching the other man. He was tall, with shorter cut hair, a little shaggy around his front. The man paused before peeling off his jacket and lowering it on a nearby shipping crate. Even in the dim lights, Yoochun could make out a distinctive wrap around his torso and curling up around his collar bone.
"He's been wounded." Yoochun muttered to himself.
Fantastic, his employer not only seemed to doubt his skills but had assigned him to a man who was already injured.
"Piece of cake." he mused inwardly.
The young man reached into his pockets and slowly drew out his dual caliber pistols. He had opted to leave the silencers back at his apartment. Even with a loud shot, no one would investigate until morning. It was risky to be out in this particular area alone at night. People kept to themselves in this part of the city.
Yoochun blew his longer bangs out from in front of his eyes and let his fingers caress the triggers. An inherint thrill shot through him at the mere pressure against his weapons. It caused his blood to sing and his heart to beat a little faster. His dual pistols were his prized possession and just handling them made him feel whole.
He once again turned his head just a little to gaze around the corner. The taller man was focused on the waves that were lapping and swirling on the dock. Yoochun almost made his move when the sound of a couple wooden boxes came crashing through the silence. The young man immediately pulled away, holding back at gasp of shock. The very faintest click could be heard and he barely tilted his head around the corner.
The man had a handgun drawn and had it aimed directly at the fallen cargo. A shrieking series of meows could be heard as two cats came out from the destruction, hissing and swatting the whole way. Yoochun watched as the man lowered his weapon.
"So he's armed. No problem, it's a basic handgun, I'll have it out of his hands in no time." he mentally noted.
Once again, Yoochun applied pressure to the triggers of the guns. He could feel the heat behind the bullet cage seem to whisper into his brain. The barrels of his weapons felt warm and it caused a indistinct flush to rise to his cheeks. The adrenaline soared through his veins as he spun silently off the wall and leveled his guns at his target.
He was stunned to see only the debris from the fallen crates and the empty dock. The only sound that greeted his ears was the sloshing of night ocean against the posts. Yoochun blinked for a moment and ventured a single step outward.
Without warning, an incredible amount of pressure met his windpipe. He let out a choked gasp of air as his feet lifted off the ground. He could see little spots in front of his eyes as his lungs continued to tighten. The dual pistols began to slip from his curled fingers as he tried to find purchase against the unseen assailant.
His body suddenly cocked backwards and he could feel his whole form move in reverse. The spots behind his eyes were losing color and he could inwardly sense that his vision was turning black. The few breaths he was able to catch were knocked out of him as his back impacted the brick wall he was positioned near. His throat felt like it was on fire and he could only drag in little trembles of rapidly escaping air.
His dimming eyes turned slowly to the left to see a chiseled, handsome face staring back at him. His expression was like steel, cold and calculated. The man turned the youth's head back and forth before leaning farther forward. He sniffed at Yoochun's hair and then pulled back. The pressure on the smaller man's throat didn't let up and Yoochun could feel his eyes beginning to roll backwards.
Before he slipped into unconciousness, the grip around his neck loosened just enough. The cold breeze from the nearby water flooded his lungs and caused his throat to constrict. He coughed violently as he tried to pull in the clean oxygen. He barely stopped coughing when the hand around his throat tightened again. Though it was still painful, the grip now allowed for him to suck in a serious of steady breaths.
He was ready to turn his eyes to look at the man again when his sharp, soft voice ceased any movement.
"Keep your eyes foreward."
Yoochun could feel his mouth drying. He tried to nod but the hand at his neck kept his head at bay.
"You've been the one following me for a while now, haven't you?" the man questioned.
The smaller had learned early on to never expose why you were there. He started to shake his head when the hand tightened again, making his windpipe feel two sizes smaller.
"I'll ask you again, were you the one who was following me?"
".....yes...." Yoochun barely squeaked out.
"Drop your weapons." the man cooly responded.
Yoochun began to feel the first pangs of panic rising up into his veins. It had been years since he had been in a position that required him to disarm. He tried to raise one of his pistol clad hands when he stopped mid motion.
"You try to fire on me and I'll snap your neck in two, do you understand? Now drop your weapons."
His precious calibers, the virtual extensions of his body, came loose from his curled fingers and clattered to the ground. The sound cut through his near suffocation. It felt as though it was his own bones that had struck the pavement.
"Good boy. Now we can finally talk."
Yoochun felt the man use his hand to turn his head. His blurred vision once again met that same handsome, cool face. Right beside the man's cheek was a gun of exquisite make and model. It seemed to shimmer even in the moonlight. One the sides of the weapon were tiny little marks, one right after another. Somewhere in Yoochun's confused mind, he had remembered hearing a rumor of such a gun.
"....you're him.....you're Ghost....." he managed to sputter out.
The man only gave a slight smile and struck out with the gun clad hand. Yoochun barely felt the impact. The world went from a blurred haze to a pitch black night.
*****
The bare humming of a light stung the very back of his skull. Yoochun moaned softly as he tried to open his eyes. A searing shot of pain flew right up his neck and settled at the base of his head. He grimaced inwardly as he tried to pry open his lids again. Dim light pierced through his clenched lids and the spots that seemed to have become his constant companion danced in front of his vision. He slowly blinked and finally his pupils shrunk as he became adjusted to the quiet illumination.
He was in a rather plain looking room. He barely glanced down to see he was sitting in a wooden chair. There was a bed with a single blanket in front of him, a table covered with a series of papers and a lap top. He could hear the sound of running water. Slowly, he risked turning his head. The pop of his neck caused him to wince. He remembered too clearly the hand around his throat as his bruised skin protested. There was a single light bulb lit up in a makeshift room that seemed to be a kind of bathroom. The water streamed out from a old, chipped sink.
Yoochun moved his head a bit more and then tried to stand. His movements were ceased as he realized his hands were bound behind his back. He tried to shift his legs to find his ankles were bound. He blew out his air and was somewhat relieved to find he wasn't gagged. In least not yet.
The water turned off in the nearby room. The youth's acute hearing captured the noise of someone shifting around. He began to slowly shift back and forth in his chair. He was too good at what he did to be tied to a chair. As he moved, the chair's leg barely lifted and settled with the tiniest of clacks on the cement ground.
A cold barrell was pressed against the temple of his head with an unforseen amount of speed. Yoochun froze in his position.
"Well, I see you're awake." came the man's voice.
Yoochun just swallowed as the pistol was lowered from the side of his head. The man moved from beside Yoochun and crossed to stand in front of him. The darker haired youth looked at him. The man's bandaged torso had come undone and an obvious trickle of red was starting to stain the fallen wrappings.
"What's your name?" his now captor questioned.
Yoochun pressed his lips together. The first thing he had been ever taught when he went into his field was never reveal his identity. It was better to die than have anyone know who you truly were.
The man just sighed and walked over to the bed. Yoochun watched little droplets of blood dribble behind him. His eyes focused on the other's strong back as he bent forward a little. He turned back after a moment and in his free hand were Yoochun's dual pistols. They hung aimlessly from the other's fingertips.
".....my guns...." Yoochun barely whispered.
The taller man spun his own weapon between his fingers. Even in the dim light, Yoochun could still see the glints of the many marks on the man's gun. He had no doubt in his mind now. This man was the one who only exsisted in rumor.
"Your pistols are nice, but their weight is off. You need to lighten up the base design a little. Even a gram or two off could cause some real damage if they don't fire off correctly."
Yoochun looked dumbly at the other as the man simply set the guns on the floor. He saw the barest twitch in his countenance as the bandages fell farther off. There was a sizeable wound becoming more visible as the stranger simply slid the dual pistols across the floor. They came to stop at Yoochun's feet.
"Nice though. He must have been very fond of you."
The younger man gave the other a look of surprise.
"....he?...." Yoochun asked very quietly.
"Wang Leehom. He's the one who sent you, isn't he? Those are his trademark pistols. He only gives them to his specialists he holds in high esteem."
The taller man coughed a little and a bit of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. He wiped it with the back of his hand and settled across from Yoochun on the bed. He pushed the blanket aside and pulled out a small box. Yoochun watched with a mix of bizarre curiosity and repressed fear as the man drew out a long spindle of thread, a rather large, hooked knitting needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a scissors.
"Sorry I had to mess up your neck and crack you on the skull. I wasn't exactly thinking straight when you found me. You would have had a clean shot too. I'm surprised you didn't take it." the man murmured.
The other unravelled a long piece of string from the spindle. He cut off the end and then picked up the sewing needle. He dipped the hooked part and the end into the bottle before stringing the thread through. Yoochun's eyes widened as the man pushed off the remaining bandages around his waist and began to pinch together his torso wound.
"I think I might have a lost a bit more blood than I thought." the taller said idly. "My hands are shaking pretty bad."
The smaller youth watched as the taller pressed the tip of the needle through the very corner of his skin. He let out a deep hiss as the metal slid through his stained flesh. The skin puckered and pulled as the silver came out stained maroon. He pulled the string hard and the flesh meshed against itself. He took a deep breath and then dipped the needle back into his skin, drawing it through to the other side and piercing it back out, pulling the thread taut.
"Not the first wound I've received." the man half growled as the needle bit through his skin again. "Usually it's not in my torso though. I tend to get it in the arms or legs, even had one skim through my neck. These bleed too bad, makes it hard to work with."
The dark haired youth watched for a few more moments as his captor slid the needle through his skin. The area was becoming more reddened and the man's hands were trembling. Though every instinct told him otherwise, Yoochun opened his mouth.
"I could help you."
The specialist wondered where in hell the very idea came from. He was the one at this man's mercy and he was volunteering to help sew him back together. It wasn't just any man either. It was his target and also someone made of urban legend.
The other looked up at Yoochun. He offered the slightest of smiles and slowly stood from the bed. He picked up the scissors and half walked, half limped over to where the other one was tied. He reached behind and snipped through the bindings around Yoochun's wrists. Without thought, the young man's hands flew forward and grabbed at his dual calibers. He quickly raised them upwards, squaring them right at the man's heart.
The man gazed at the youth passively. He let out a soft sigh and simply turned his back and headed toward the stained bed again.
"You paused for too long. I could have plunged this scissors through your juggular and watched you flail for the next ten minutes until you bled out."
Yoochun's mind reeled at the simple admission. Why hadn't he fired? He could have easily done a point blank shot. The weight of his guns felt fine to him, he could still tell they were loaded. Even if they did feel a little lopsided, or that could be his imagination.
"You're going to have to get the binds off your ankles yourself. I'm afraid that my hands are getting pretty slippery."
The smaller man kept his guns held out in front of him. He could feel a kind of nervous ticking sliding up his spine. The taller sat back down on the bed and attempted to return to his work. His hands were shaking so hard he could barely get the needle lowered.
Yoochun saw the barest flicker of excruciating pain flit across the man's face. Slowly, he lowered his weapons, resting them on his thighs for quick retrieval. Without taking his gaze off his bleeding captor, he pulled at the binds around his ankles. The knots gave way easily and Yoochun grabbed his pistols and pushed off the chair.
The room spun just a little as the prior impact caused his head to throb. He waited until the rising wave of nausea subsided. The space stilled and he focused on the man sitting on the bed. His fingers were barely clinging to the coated needle. Blood was still dripping out of the wound.
"If you're going to shoot me, you better do it now. I'm not feeling a whole lot at the moment. Otherwise, make yourself useful and start stitching."
Yoochun wondered if his face was as shocked as he felt inside. Warily, he approached the bed and slowly sat down. The guns were still locked in his fingers.
"If you've got an extra set of arms, you better show them to me." his captor weakly joked. "Because I don't know of anyone who can sew and hold two pistols. Even I'm not that good."
The smaller gingerly lowered his guns to come and rest on his thighs. Hesitantly, he reached out and took the slicked needle from the other. The string was already covered in his red essence, making it smooth to the touch.
"We need to disinfect the string again." Yoochun suggested.
"All yours. Do what you need too." the other responded simply.
Yoochun reached over and grabbed the bottle, keeping his eyes on the other man's hands the whole time. The taller just remained where he was sitting. Yoochun tipped the bottle a little, rinsing off the thread. He applied a bit more alcohol to the needle and then looked at the other.
"Don't worry about how neat it is, it'll come out in a week or so anyways."
The younger nodded a little and gingerly leaned forward. He reached out his hand and applied pressure to the gape, closing it up further. He pulled on the thread and began to press it down into the other's skin. The man made the slightest of noises but remained very still. Yoochun felt a ball of saliva catch in his throat as he pulled the silver through the giving flesh. A little pressure, and the string went taut.
"You're pretty good at this. Must have sewn yourself up a few times."
"Not me, others." Yoochun responded quickly.
"Leehom must have really had it in for me this time."
"How do you know if I even work for him."
"Trust me, I know. You all have a certain signature about you." the other said flatly.
Yoochun scowled a little at that comment as he pushed the needle through again. Every specialist had their own particular style. He had always prided himself on being an individual. How this man knew he was employed to Wang Leehom was the first mystery. How he was able to pick it out was a completely different one. However, he was techinically sewing up a dead man.
"You're him, aren't you?" Yoochun pressed.
"Him?"
"The one they always talk about in whispers. The one called 'Ghost.'"
"Hmph, is that the name I've become known as?"
Yoochun pushed in the needle again. The gape was nothing more than a slender opening. A couple more stitches and it would hold until the other got medical help. If he got any at all.
"So you are him." Yoochun couldn't help but sound a little awed. "I could tell by your pistol. It has the Hundred Mark on it."
"Those little slashes are not something I'm exactly proud of." the other replied.
Yoochun exhaled as the last stitch moved into place, the needle appearing out the skin. He pulled the string tight and looked for the scissors. The taller lifted his hand, handing the sharp object to the younger. The specialist tied the knot with his stained fingers and snipped off the end. The other exhaled slowly as his torso loosened, the sewn area staying in place.
"Thank you." he simply said.
"Um, you're welcome?" Yoochun wasn't sure how to reply.
"Your name?" the taller asked as he began to push the bloodied bandages off his reddened bed.
"Micky."
"No, not your codename. Your real name."
"Park Yoochun." he said and then almost clamped his hands over his mouth.
"Park Yoochun. Nice name. My name is Jung Yunho."
"Jung Yunho?" Yoochun asked quietly.
Why would the man who was known as Ghost and carried the pistol bearing the Hundred Mark give his real name so freely? Why had he just done it himself?
"Thank you for fixing me up, Yoochun. I don't think I could have gotten through this one on my own."
Yoochun nodded and then realized he had completely forgotten about his precious pistols resting against his legs. Without thought, he quickly dropped his hands over them.
"You're pretty attached to them. I can understand that though, I'm still attached to my caliber. Even if it's nothing more than horrible memories. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
The brunette blinked at the red tinted haired man. He relaxed his hold on his weapons.
"A little thirsty, I guess."
"Yeah, sorry about your throat. Mind if I take a look at it?"
Yoochun eyed the other warily. Yunho held up his bloodied hands in open view.
"You can see that Hundred Mark is beside me, don't worry about it. Now let me look at that neck. It's pretty bruised."
Yoochun gave a the barest nod as the strange Yunho turned his chin and surveyed the damage. He picked up one of his bandages still on the bed and doused it with some of the rubbing alcohol. He reached up and pressed it against the tender skin. Yoochun hissed as his bruises protested.
"You're lucky I didn't break your windpipe, Yoochun. I would have had to dump you into the dock then. I'm not exactly feeling like making Hundred Mark a Hundred and One Mark."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Yoochun asked without thought.
He immediately felt his face burn in embarrassment. This was not a question that a specialist asks a would be target. However, the night definitely turned away from his favor.
"Why not? You were about to do me a big favor. I just reacted too quickly."
"Favor?"
"You were going to kill me. It would have been the nicest thing anyone could have done for me at that moment. But the chance has passed, so the least I can do is try and make up for you sewing me back together."
"You're a very strange man, Jung Yunho."
"Just Yunho."
Yunho finished dabbing at the bruises on Yoochun's neck.
"Tilt your head forward, I need to see if I cut the back of your head."
Without thought, Yoochun leaned forward. He felt Yunho's red, sticky fingers glide through his hair. He winced as his nails caught against a bump.
"Looks like I just gave you a good knock on the head, I don't see any blood." Yunho stated as he withdrew his hand.
"How can you handle the fact that I tried to kill you then let me stitch you together so calmly?" Yoochun burst out.
He didn't know why but somehow it made him angry. Some part of his had always dreamt that he would be the one to catch the mysterious Ghost. But here the man was sitting in front of him, he had ample time to shoot him and suddenly couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Don't worry, Chunnie, you haven't lost your nerve." Yunho said as if reading his mind.
"What are you talking about?!" Yoochun demanded.
"You work for Leehom still, you'll be back to your old self in no time."
"I never said I worked for him."
"How much did the Chinese American give you to track me down? Must have been a good sum, he never sends just anyone to try and find me."
"I... He didn't give me anything for this hit."
Yunho raised an eyebrow at that comment.
"He sent you out without any incentive? Either you're very, very good or very, very stupid."
Yoochun glared angrily at the man beside him.
"I took the mission because I wanted to be the one to catch the Ghost and bring back the Hundred Mark to him."
Yunho's face sobered immensely. He heaved a great sigh and laid his hand over his newly sewn torso.
"You and a thousand others." he whispered.
"What are you talking about?" Yoochun asked in suprise.
"You think you're the only one that Leehom has out looking for me? Think again. This little wound in my torso isn't because I randomly got stabbed. I just didn't want to fight at that moment. In fact, I don't really want to fight at all any more." Yunho finished quietly.
Yoochun saw a kind of shadow fall over the man's face. He felt his stomach flip as his appearance took on a whole different demeanor.
"You could still do me the favor, Chunnie." Yunho said wistfully.
The young man immediately grasped his guns as Yunho reached beside him and pressed the barrell of Hundred Mark against the temple of his head. His eyes went wide as the man began to pull the trigger. The cylinder whirled and clicked. Yoochun flinched, waiting for the blood to splatter. Instead, nothing happened. Another pull on the trigger and Yoochun had to bite back a scream of horror. Once again, nothing happened.
For two minutes, Yunho just stared out into the almost empty room, pulling the trigger and letting the hum of cylinder cut through the stillness of the room. Yoochun wondered if the man had completely lost his mind.
"You know, no matter how many times I hold Hundred Mark to my head, she just keeps clicking and clicking and being a tease about the whole thing. She never has bullets in her when I want them. Come to think of it, I don't remember the last time I put any in her." Yunho murmured.
Yoochun felt his heart seem to fall to the very pit of his guts. All he could see was a shell of a man and a terribly haunted face that looked like there was no hope in sight. Almost fearfully, Yoochun reached up and laid his hand over Yunho's gun clad one.
The man rapidly turned and without warning, Yoochun was suddenly pinned to the bed, Hundred Mark pressed directly at his heart.
"You see what I am?! Do you see this?! Is this what you want to become?! Is it?!" Yunho hysterically screamed.
Yoochun's eyes widened as the gun pressed hard underneath his chin. His own dual pistols were useless, Yunho's suprisingly strong knees had them trapped against his thighs. His wrists were held above his head by Yunho's free hand.
Yunho leaned downwards until their faces were almost against each other. His breath was hot and there was still a remnant of dried blood on the corner of his mouth.
"Shoot to kill, Yoochun. It's what we're trained to do. It's the thing that seperates us from mad men. The only difference is we usually get paid. Usually." Yunho's voice was dark and terrifying.
Yoochun felt his dual calibers fall from his shaking form. They somehow found their own way out and he cursed his precious companions for fleeing him. Hundred Mark was still pressed tightly against his chin. He knew there were no bullets inside the chamber but somehow the weapon was still horrible.
"I have killed man, woman, child and never once felt the pangs of guilt. Never once did I flinch when their brains splattered against the walls and painted everything red. But one day, as I etched in my hundreth mark on this little girl, I realized what I had become. I had become everything I hated. Every horrid, disgusting, perverse thing I despised, I now thrived in. I'm a beast, Park Yoochun. A beast that has to be tamed before I tear apart everything around me. Is this going to be your fate too?" Yunho growled.
Yoochun had never felt true fear until that moment. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball like a small boy and hide away from the fury that was blazing in the man's eyes. Instead, something else happened. He managed to get his arms to work and somehow forced his wrist out of Yunho's grasp.
The man saw the movement and instead of grabbing the hand, he let Yoochun move it freely. The younger took his shaking fingers and carefully lowered them, gripping Hundred Mark and moving it slowly out from under his chin.
He watched as Yunho seemed to be distantly observing his actions, almost as if he wasn't even there. Yoochun felt the pressure leave his jawline. He drew in a breath as his hand moved forward again and rested carefully against Yunho's sharp cheekline.
The man barely tilted his head at the action. He still had Yoochun's body trapped but his torso was trembling, the pain from the wound and the stitches starting to override his initial adrenaline shot. Yoochun let his palm frame the skin and he tried his best to hold Yunho's gaze.
"I don't know what you are, Yunho... You really damn scary and you're a killer. But you didn't kill me. Why?" Yoochun questioned as softly as possible.
Yunho's body shook more as the anger leeched out of his nerves. His pistol slipped out of his fingers and clattered to the ground. He still kept Yoochun's other wrist held over his head but the grip had loosened greatly.
".....because I see there is still life in you. There is nothing left in me, Yoochun. Nothing but this shell." Yunho shakily replied.
Yoochun saw the man's gaze go out of focus as he began to push off the other. The pressure around his thighs and arms relented. Yoochun realized that Yunho was freeing his body. Somehow, that idea caused him great distress.
Impetuously, he moved upwards as his upper body was let loose. His other wrist was giving free reign. He quickly grabbed Yunho's head and turned it to face him. Yoochun didn't know what possessed him, but he surged forward and crushed his mouth against Yunho's.
The man's lips tasted like ruby tinted death. They were cracked and a little aged and felt a touch like sand paper to Yoochun's smooth ones. He opened the eyes he hadn't known he closed to see Yunho's looking at him. The fury had left, the cloudiness lingering but a kind of recognition was filtering back into his mind.
Yoochun began to draw back when he felt Yunho's hand curl on the back of his head and bring their lips back together. The kiss became much more active as he could feel the taller man move his mouth over Yoochun's. He distantly wondered when he had lost his mind. He had to have gone crazy to be kissing the man he was supposed to kill.
Yunho drew back this time and he now looked much more like the man Yoochun had begun talking to ealier in the night. Despite Yunho's denial, there was kindness behind those hardened eyes.
"You better get out of here." Yunho said softly.
"Why?"
"Because if you don't leave, I'll probably do something awful to you."
"It's only awful if I say no, isn't it?" Yoochun replied.
Yunho let out a slow breath of air. Yoochun's hands were still around his face. He reached down and pressed his fingers to his wound. It throbbed angrily against his palm. He turned his attention back to the young specialist framing his face.
"It's going to hurt." Yunho stated.
"Yeah, I kind of figured that."
"I have spit and blood."
"It'll do."
Yoochun withdrew his hands and pulled at the jacket he was still wearing. The article tumbled off the bed. It landed over his beloved dual caliber companions. Yoochun paid no heed as he began to unbutton his shirt. Yunho made a slight sound of annoyance and reached out. Yoochun felt the yank and heard the buttons clattering in various places of the room.
"Impatient?" Yoochun half joked.
"Torso wound, remember?" Yunho returned, his tone slightly sarcastic.
The smaller man pulled the shirt off and tossed it over the side of the bed. He hooked the heels of his shoes and pried them off. His socks soon joined the growing pile of fabric. Yoochun went to undo his pants when he felt Yunho's hand rest over his groin.
He sucked in his air when the taller man cupped his bulge and applied pressure. He gasped as Yunho began to rock the palm of his hand back and forth over his fabric covered front. Yoochun tried to push his hands away when Yunho's sharp gaze stopped him.
The taller began to work Yoochun through his pants. The pull of his undergarments were strangely erotic. He tried to keep himself upright but another squeeze from Yunho's larger hands had him falling back on the already blood dripped sheets.
"What... What the hell are you doing?" Yoochun managed to get out.
"Getting you ready."
"Ready?"
Yunho's hand left Yoochun's groin and grabbed the glittering belt buckle. He unsnapped it and yanked it off with ease. The belt went sliding off the other side of bed. Yunho's fingers easily made work of Yoochun's button and zipper. The metal gave way to expose the growing tightness behind white frabic.
Yoochun felt his face flush as Yunho looked at his arousal behind this underwear. The elder continued to apply pressure to his torso with his free hand as he lowered his head downward. Yoochun's groan caught in his throat as Yunho licked at the fabric seperating his flesh from Yunho's tongue.
"I... I thought that..."
"You thought I was going to rush into it? For me, this is rushing. You'll have to excuse the lack of foreplay, Chunnie. It's been a long time for me and I just want to feel that in my mouth."
The youth tried to say something again to the other man when Yunho's free hand hooked his pants and pulled them down to his knees. He leaned back upwards, flinching a bit and yanked them off Yoochun's ankles. The coolness of the room now bit into Yoochun's prickling skin. He started to shiver and then his heels dug into the bed.
Yunho leaned down to mouth the bulge again before grabbing Yoochun's under garment and pulling it free. The white, wetted fabric joined the rest on the cement. Yunho's eyes fell upon the firm flesh. Yoochun craned his head to see Yunho lick his lips once. He collapsed back, his hands tangling in his own hair as Yunho's lips descened over him.
The elder enjoyed the feel of hot flesh moving in and out of his mouth. It had been too long since he had any form of intimate contact. The feel of Yoochun's hips starting to thrust caused Yunho's loose training pants to tighten and constrict. He rubbed himself slightly against the bed, his hand still resting over his new stitched.
Yoochun gasped as Yunho's tongue slid up the bottom, flicking over his tip before descending back downwards again. He had never felt anything so acute or erotic. He vaguely wondered how he he had ended up in this position with this dangerous man and then realized he didn't care. Yunho's mouth was sinful. Yoochun's fingers left his own hair and they slowly came to rest over Yunho's head.
The other almost pulled away, unaccustomed to mutual physical contact. Yoochun's fingers were gentle though and Yunho eased his head back downwards, feeling the press against the back of his throat. Slowly, he slipped upwards and licked his the palm of his hand.
Yoochun saw Yunho's tongue slide over his own hand. He had only kissed the man's lips twice and never once had that been in his mouth. He watched in fascination as Yunho lowered the wetted palm and encircled him again. He began to stroke, firm and fast, and Yoochun squirmed against the wrist motions.
"Y-yunho..."
"Yoochun." Yunho stated in an unusually gentle tone.
Almost as if the other had read the youth's thoughts, he continued to finger and stroke Yoochun's tip and flesh as he carefully leaned forward between his legs. He bent slowly and brought their mouths together.
Yoochun could feel Yunho's tongue slide into his mouth and seem to caress every nuance. He began to lick against Yoochun's tongue as his fist kept in time. Yoochun whimpered against the man's mouth, struggling to keep the rising pleasure at bay. He finally drew back, his face contorted as he tried to push Yunho's hand away.
"...i'll come." he whispered.
"I know." Yunho returned.
Yoochun didn't have time to understand as he suddenly jerked. His stomach flipped and his hips went forward. Liquid pearls spilled over Yunho's hand and dripped onto Yoochun's shivering stomach. The youth shook as he Yunho moved with the sticky hand. His body didn't have time to come down when he jerked against the older's fingers pressing against his opening.
"Ssh, it's going to hurt no matter what. I wanted you to have a little more lubrication is all."
Yoochun whimpered as one finger became two. It stung but his body was so hyper aware, the sting just seemed to add to the other sensations. He bit his lip as Yunho's fingers pushed deeper until they curled. Yoochun's eyes went wide as another shudder went up his spine.
"I wish I could do more for you, Yoochun. This is too fast for me but it's been too long."
Yunho pulled out his fingers and then spit on his already coated hand. He then slowly raised his hand from his torso. It was slicked with little drops of red. He pulled at the tie of his training pants and hooked the elastic. Yoochun watched as the man carefully eased the fabric over his hips and shook them off his legs.
The youth shivered as Yunho took himself into his hands. He began to stroke his flesh, a mix of saliva, Yoochun's essence and his own blood. The man positioned himself on his knees and pulled Yoochun's body toward him. The brunette could feel the blunt pressure against his opening.
"Take a deep breath."
He gave a shaky nod and drew in his air. His eyes clenched tightly and he let out a cry as Yunho pressed forward. It burned right to the base of his spine and had him almost tearing the sheets between his fingers. The burn seared for a moment longer and then his body gave way. The air rushed out of his chest and he tried to catch his breath. He felt incredibly full. An unexpected gentle touch against his face opened his eyes.
Yunho was gazing at him with an expression the young man had never seen in the few hours he had known the man. The older was wiping away the tears of pain from Yoochun's eyes.
"Let this be the only time I ever make you cry."
The words struck something deep inside Yoochun. He forced himself upwards, his arms coming around Yunho's neck, the man keeping himself upright on his knees. Yoochun wondered how this stranger, this deadly assassin, was making him feel something like he had never felt before.
Yunho began to thrust with Yoochun wrapped around his neck. The young man's heat was incredible and he could feel the throb at the base of his own flesh. Yoochun's arms were tight around his neck as Yunho moved the best he could with his damaged body. He could feel the youth's heartbeat against his chest. It was incredible to Yunho. He could feel life against him, instead of the final moments of death fading from his grip.
"Yoochun, look at me."
The specialist moved his head to look at Yunho. He let out little cries of pleasure as Yunho rocked him deeply on his body. But it was Yunho's gaze, so open and almost child like that captured Yoochun.
Yunho swore he could see hope in Yoochun's eyes. The thing that had been lost to him years ago. He pressed harder into the younger, wanting to leave his mark there. Wanting to imprint himself on Yoochun's form. He wanted to be what Yoochun thought of every night, even if just for a fleeting moment.
Yoochun could feel the deep thrusts move quicker into his shaking body. He continued to hold Yunho's gaze even as his fingers dug into the other shoulders. His tip was dripping and he let go of one of Yunho's shoulders to grip himself. It was wildly erotic feeling himself so utterly taken with the basest of needs.
Yunho's desire raised even more as he saw Yoochun take himself into his hand. He let out a deep growl and pressed in deeply, holding Yoochun down onto his knees. The youth's eyes went wide and he cried as Yunho's flesh pressed against that hidden spot. Unexpectedly, he shivered and spilled a little more over his hand.
Yunho watched Yoochun come for a second time. It was all it took for the older man to push hard and fast. His own climax hit him and he felt himself pour out into Yoochun's body. Inwardly, it felt as though some part of his dead soul was returning to life.
Yoochun shivered as he felt Yunho's heat coat his inside. It was incredible and deep from the young man. He didn't understand how it had led to this and part of him didn't want too. But despite the man's seeming insanity, Yoochun had never felt safer.
Slowly, Yunho let his body relax. He opened up his arms and let Yoochun slide down onto the bed. He gripped himself and withdrew. There was a mixture of his essence and their combined blood on the sheet. He barely smiled as Yoochun winced as he sat up.
"Sorry, I did more damage than I thought."
"It's okay, I'll heal. Like you will." Yoochun replied gently.
Yuhno only made a little sound of agreement. He replaced his hand to his torso, the act having been secretly painful but still glorious to the elder.
"Rest now, you'll need your strength."
Yoochun was ready to argue when he felt his body truly relax. Sleep overtook him before he had a chance to say anything to Yunho.
*****
Yoochun slowly opened his eyes. His body ached as he tried to sit up. He failed twice before pushing himself up with his arms. He finally managed to get upright and winced as the ache in his lower half became evident. However, the pang of pain brought a small smile to his face.
He looked behind him to find the bed was completely empty. His eyes widened when he realized how empty it was. There was no medical kit, no bandages, no other clothing. Frantically, Yoochun's head whipped forward. The chair was still sitting across from the bed but the cut rope ties were gone. The adjoining room had no water running.
Yoochun's eyes quickly went to the table. It was virtually clean accept for a single white piece of paper and a very familiar object laying on top of it.
He lowered his legs down to the cement, the ground cold to his bare feet. Grabbing the sheet, he pushed off and steadied his weakened body. He half walked, half stumbled over to the table. He pushed the recognized object to the side and picked up the white piece of paper.
Yoochun,
When you read this, I'll already be gone. Before you start yelling, let me explain myself. Last night you gave me something I haven't had in a long time.
You gave me a glimpse of hope.
I don't know how you did it and I'm not sure why you did it, but thank you. Maybe you were right last night when you told me I'll heal. You were the start of it.
I know you have to back to Leehom, it's just the way it is. I hope that some day you'll be able to turn your back on him like I did. Before you become the way I am.
I want you to keep Hundred Mark and give it to Leehom when you return. In truth, you have accomplished your mission.
You "shot and killed" the old me. Now I have to try and find out who I once was.
Yoochun, I don't know if our paths will cross again. But I want you to know I think I fell in love with you last night. Even when I thought it was impossible.
Be safe and do what you need too. And if what you need to do is find me and kill me, so be it. It will be worth it. Thank you again.
Love,
Yunho
Yoochun looked at Hundred Mark sitting on the table. He picked up the gun and then looked back at the piece of paper.
Carefully he folded the letter and walked back to the bed. He dressed in silence and headed toward the room's door. He reached the entry and looked back at the room that had changed everything.
He would return to Wang Leehom and hand him his obsession. He would then get reassigned to another mission. But he wouldn't let himself forget what happened last night in this room. He would hold it with him until he found Yunho again, no matter what the circumstances.
Yoochun paused only a moment longer before whispering into the room.
"I think I fell in love with you too, Yunho."
With that, Yoochun turned and headed back out into the world.
END