[Fic] Before You Go - Chapter 26
Title: Before You Go
Pairing(s): Jaemin, Yoosu
Length: Chaptered 26/27
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: (gang) violence, language, abduction
Genre: AU, drama, angst
Summary: Jaejoong and his cousin have been swept up into the world of violence and gangs. The struggle and fight for his sanity is complicated greatly by the addition of a certain Shim Changmin into the mix. Will he be able to protect those he loves as well as save himself?
A/N: ooo..mg.. cant believe im finally updating this ! T^T i cant apologize enough for the wait, and i hope this part doesnt suck TOO much, cuz it was sooo hard to get it out... ㅠㅂㅠ HUHUHU !!
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 - part 1 - part 2 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25
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Junsu knew that no one was coming to save him that time. He’d finally had his chance to prove himself, to deal with things on his own. Finally he’d succeeded at driving Yoochun away for good, and ensured that Jaejoong wouldn’t come do it for him this time either.
But for what? All to just now lay brokenly on the dirty cold cement, face ground into the floor, body limp and useless.
Yes, he finally got what was long coming to him. The men who’d interrogated him didn’t even watch him anymore, sitting over at a makeshift table gambling away their meager wages with a deck of dirty cards. He was obviously not a threat, never had been, and his fate was already sealed. He wouldn’t be leaving the place alive.
As of now, he was nothing more than a failed attempt at a lure. Useless to them in every way as he even failed to provide them with a connection or contact with the undercover. Yoochun wouldn’t answer his phone, and it was just one more stinging jab to his thoroughly bruised heart since he knew the man must be avoiding it on purpose. They had forced him to leave a few voicemails on Yoochun’s phone after finding out which number was his, though the calls were nothing more than the pathetic disgusting sounds of his own cries and pleas.
He wondered blearily if Yoochun had even checked the messages and heard it. He doubted it as he was sure the man had given up on him for Junsu had made it quite clear he wanted nothing to do with him. It really was pathetic the way he now regretted it all, but it didn’t make a difference now.
Either way Yoochun wouldn’t come, and even if he somehow miraculously showed up before Junsu was beaten to death Junsu was sure he’d be met with scorn if not be ignored completely.
He could remember only too clearly the last time he saw Yoochun, the look in his eyes was so defeated… and that night he’d pushed him away seemed to really be the very last time. He laughed at himself degradingly. That this would be his punishment… it really was too ironic and cruel.
It was really too late to even think it, but he couldn’t help but think that if Yoochun had just tried one more time, shown him that sparkle of determination, that enveloping warmth one more time…the same things that had made Junsu’s heart ache and knees go weak even as his mind told himself not to fall for the other man’s charms, just one more time would have been enough to if not convince him at least make him give in to his own desires.
As much as he’d struggled to resist, rejecting his own feelings and brusquely driving Yoochun away, he resolutely held to the fact that he couldn’t trust a double agent. Not someone who’s job was lying and playing people just to get them to do what he wanted to fulfill his own ends, just using them like disposable puppets. Just as he was using Jaejoong now, and what rankled the most was the way Jaejoong let him.
Junsu was still so angry at Yoochun for using his hyung, for making Jaejoong choose, and angry and terrified because when presented with that choice, Jaejoong had not chosen him.
Finally he was on his own like he always thought he wanted, and he could hardly admit to himself that he didn’t actually want it, that he never had, because he really had no idea what he wanted. If anything, he just wished things were back the way they always were.
But as much as he tried, laying there alone and forgotten, he couldn’t seem to stop the images of everything gone wrong from flooding his head. He couldn’t forget that dead look in Jaejoong’s eyes ever since he’d come back, nor could he forget the heartbreaking sobs of a broken man whom he’d idolized and thought of as invincible.
Most of all he was deeply shaken and scared that the one person who was his closest family had
changed into someone unrecognizable. And he thought he could never get him back.
Everything precious to him…every hope or dream…every regret…none of it mattered anymore. A hollow emptiness far greater than any sadness seemed to slowly seep through him. Faced now with the end, he found he couldn’t even feel anymore much less cry.
Until they decided to kill him, he was a prisoner to his own father. Unable to follow through with his mission to lure Yoochun to Kim’s base, they seemed to just be waiting for the last order to get rid of him.
Although he was foolish to not have seen it coming, he’d still been shocked and struck dumb as his own personal guards turned on him, no doubt on his father’s orders. The uncaring dismissal of his father didn’t hurt as much as the lack of even disappointment or anger. Just nothing. As if his father had not expected anything from him in the first place, as if he was just waiting for some sort of excuse to get rid of him.
And it didn’t just mean kicking him out. It meant killing him. He couldn’t deny he was scared, but he also knew there was no hope. No one was on his side, no one would come for him. He didn’t even want Jaejoong to come. He didn’t want Jaejoong to be hurt because of him anymore. He just wished it would be over with faster.
The only thing he could do, the only way his death would be important, was that it would set Jaejoong free. Once Junsu was gone, Jaejoong had no reason to stay. He could finally leave and live the life that he’d always wanted before Junsu held him back. No longer bound by a helpless cousin who never deserved his care and protection.
He was sure Jaejoong would secretly be relieved to finally be rid of his burden even if he would never admit it. Junsu would give him that selfish desire because Jaejoong would never ask it of him. After all, Junsu knew now that Jaejoong would rather give his everything to Changmin…would probably even die for Changmin.
Staring blankly at the dirty cement just before him seemed even too hard of a task. One eye was already half swollen-shut and he blearily closed the other eye in defeat.
Closing his eyes to the world only made him more highly aware of his injuries. One of his arms was throbbing and broken, the other shoulder torn painfully from the socket. A few of his ribs felt seriously bruised if not cracked, and Junsu knew it would be nothing but pain until the end. The men hadn’t held back, and it was the worst he’d ever been beaten in his life.
Ever since Changmin had called, which seemed like days ago, he could only replay the same thoughts in his pain-shocked brain. Jaejoong was following Yoochun’s orders on some pointlessly dangerous task, while Changmin also seemed to be in trouble, and no one would even know that Junsu was dying alone on the dirty ground.
He tried to lie to himself and say that they wouldn’t care, but it hurt even more to recall Changmin’s distraught voice calling for him through the phone. Both Changmin and Jaejoong would blame themselves…though it was only all Junsu’s fault. This whole thing was.
If he hadn’t fallen under Yoochun’s spell…those hypnotic chocolate eyes full of promises. Yoochun…who was intoxicating warmth and strength, drawing him helplessly in, enveloping all his senses with sweet giddy happiness. As if they were normal and this was all okay.
He really had felt so indescribably happy for those few short days. Meeting the most strikingly handsome charming man he’d ever laid eyes on, someone who honestly seemed to have liked him too, then getting both Jaejoong and Changmin back alive. It had almost been perfect.
Until he’d found out it was all just part of a larger scheme, and that he, Junsu, was merely a means to an end. His heart was broken more painfully than his body, and he didn’t want to live with it piercing through his chest so insistently every waking moment.
With a small broken sigh bordering on a sob, Junsu tried to force himself to succumb to the swirling black pit that had continually been wavering at the edges of his mind.
He didn’t want to think or feel anymore. He didn’t want to hear the shouting thugs, their grating voices or their dirty curses. He didn’t want to be awake when they came back over to hurt him more.
But although the sounds didn’t come closer, neither did they stop. And with each loud crash and each new pair of running feet, the hazy clouds Junsu longed for so desperately thinned and retreated, a last cruel denial of the saving bliss of unconsciousness.
He really wished he could cry. If tears could take the pain away.
Not before long, he realized that something really was going on around him. He couldn’t block it out as much as he tried, and finally he let his eyes peel open as much as he could manage.
It seemed all of Kim’s men were mobilizing in the large space because they apparently had visitors. And it must be important and big, because Junsu clearly heard his father’s voice, loud and commanding above the commotion.
If this was going to turn to bloodshed Junsu silently pleaded that someone be merciful enough to give him the quickest and easiest departure with a bullet. He didn’t want to live if it meant more physical torture.
His eyes flitted slowly between the gathering forms throughout the room. There was jeering and spitting, and someone was talking steadily from the far door. A ripple went through the crowd followed by renewed shouting.
All it took was a brief moment where the men shifted just so, just enough so Junsu could see the group of men who had entered the space. And he wished he hadn’t seen, wished he could even just close his eyes because his heart lay heavy and dead in his body.
Yoochun was there. Leading the large group of sinister looking men, their faces lit with malice and ready for blood. They churned behind him with barely concealed restraint, a wave of violent energy that quickly diffused through Kim’s men as well.
And Yoochun fit in with them perfectly. The cold flash in his eyes, the cruel turn of his mouth. He was nothing but dark and terrifying, his hand openly laid upon his unconcealed weapon, and he, along with those behind him, looked only too willing to use it. They had obviously come to fight, not to deal, and Junsu blinked slowly. His only functioning eye was blurry and everything seemed oddly shadowed.
He couldn’t really see anything except for that stone-cold face, the impassive expression and the sharp terrifying glint in those eyes. He didn’t know who that person was, and the small bubble of hope that had formed in his chest slowly grew into a suffocating pressure, choking him with regret and fear as the only person who might have helped him, who had spoken and looked at him so lovingly, now looked ready to kill.
It must be his true image. Junsu knew it deep down, and he let the pang of betrayal flow freely through him. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted him at all, he had been right…but it didn’t hurt any less admitting it.
Men were surrounding the incoming group, threats and curses flying through the air as the men finally came to a stop, bristling and snarling at the jeering thugs around them. Junsu couldn’t understand the words flying through the air, the demands from Kim’s men met with rude gestures and guffawing laughter.
It seemed harmless enough, a battle of words, and the clash of blood-hungry eyes.
His vision slid sideways and unfocused further as hands slipped under his shoulders. He was hauled to his feet but couldn’t even support himself. His stomach churned and his whole body protested with searing streaks of fire, and he wished for nothing more than the cold hard safety of the ground.
He saw black as suddenly he was shoved forward, falling heavily to the floor as he was helpless to protect himself or even attempt to slow his fall. His consciousness flickered in and out, loud voices, laughter, swearing, and he knew they were talking about him, could hear his father’s voice clearly through the rest of the noise.
It didn’t matter. He just felt so tired…beyond humiliated at being beaten to death before all these men who thought nothing of him, a pathetic excuse for the boss’s son. And even more so now in front of the one man he wished he had never met. Because he couldn’t deny the tug on his heart when he looked up through swimming eyes to see Yoochun’s face above his.
He was standing completely frozen, only a few paces away, but he was looking directly at him. And Junsu couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to look away. As pathetic as it was, he wanted this to be the last thing he saw before he was gone.
But he belatedly became aware of what was going on as those lips mesmerizing lips moved, words he couldn’t hear before a shout of outrage went up; he realized they had been asking him to identify the spy, and he guessed he’d given it all away only too easily.
He wondered if Yoochun would forgive him. It didn’t matter anymore because he could no longer see him, bodies were blocking his view as men came to life all around the room.
Shouting filled his ears and he slipped into the darkness behind his eyes as fighting broke out, fierce and purposeful.
He was too beaten down and tired to feel anything else, and he longed for it just to end so he could rest. He didn’t care anymore, even as the faint blaring of sirens and a voice drifting over a loudspeaker filtered through the airways of the building.
It was the police. A voice calling out for a surrender, a voice telling them they were surrounded, a voice full of commanding superiority that must have been his imagination.
Because he knew he was delirious. He couldn’t think over the sudden thundering of gunshots, ripping through bodies and busting glass windows and splintering any object in their paths. And the screaming. So much screaming.
His heavy lids opened reluctantly as hands again took hold of him. Someone lifting him up quickly and he fell heavily against a broad body behind him. Somehow he found the strength to lift his head, and saw with sudden incredible clarity the man standing in front of him. A man with a gun pointed directly at him.
There wasn’t a single thought in his head as he stared dumbly at the figure before him. It was only a split second later before the pocket of silence surrounding him ripped apart with a roar and something hot punched him in the gut. It was only too easy to surrender at last to the rushing black nothingness.
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Yoochun saw it as if through slow motion. The way the man lifted the gun, aiming at the burly man whose arms were still wrapped around Junsu. All it took was a slight tug to pull the small frame in front of himself, blocking, as the gun exploded, at such close range there was no way he could miss.
He saw it in slow motion as Junsu’s body jerked with the impact, knocking backwards against the man who also stumbled, letting them both fall to the ground. Yoochun’s gun had gone off too, just a moment too late. The offending gunman now lay out bloody on the ground
And Yoochun’s head felt like it was splitting, all sound and energy hyper focusing as his eyes couldn’t see anything but that small body that was seeping blood everywhere. And there was screaming and noise all around him, the sounds of guns and men yelling. Anger, pain, and horror.
And the man beneath Junsu’s crooked limp body was still moving, was shoving the smaller body off of himself, was staggering to his feet as his own chest bled red. Yoochun wanted to think it was the man’s own. Didn’t want to even consider that it could be Junsu’s.
And he was running forward, lifting his gun, pulling the trigger once, twice, three times. And the bloody holes that spurted from the man’s chest were not enough. And the blood that dribbled out of that mouth as the man sagged heavily to the floor was not satisfying. Because Junsu wasn’t moving. He wasn’t fucking moving.
Yoochun had fallen to his knees beside the prone figure, one violently shaking hand pressing against the wound desperately. But red was seeping through his fingers, greedily staining everything the color of death. And his voice was nearly hysterical as he yelled into his radio, begging and swearing and demanding an ambulance.
Vaguely he was aware of a pair of men flanking him, shooting anyone who tried to approach him, protecting him, but he almost couldn’t care. Because the body he now cradled tightly against his chest was so small and unmoving in his arms. The bloodied face upturned to his was deathly pale, eyes closed, head lolling lifelessly to one side. And he couldn’t breathe as he screamed the man’s name with every sob that tore from his chest.
He was too late, too late, just too fucking late.
Everything he’d planned didn’t matter if he lost Junsu now. Everything happening around him faded into nothing. Everything he’d worked for, suffered through all these years…he’d give it all up, gladly leave it all in ruins if it meant saving the man now bleeding to death in his arms.
And he couldn’t even see him clearly because of the tears blurring his eyes, and his hands were burning with the heat of Junsu’s life staining them. It was a nightmare that the first person he ever fell for, the first time he ever let someone into his heart would be the first time he failed, the first time someone he loved would die because of him.
Frantically he looked around himself for something to make this all stop, for something to help him, rocking Junsu brokenly as he muttered thick pleas and curses into deaf ears. He’d never felt so utterly powerless, quickly slipping into a blind hysteria as he remembered only too vividly the way he swore to protect him after almost losing him once to Jung. But it was all his fault Junsu was like this now. This couldn’t be happening!
His panicked searching eyes flew unseeing over the tangles of men still fighting, now interspersed with men in uniforms struggling to overpower and subdue the thugs. The men in thick protection carrying a stretcher now coming through the open door were much too far away, and his gaze locked on them as he staggered to his feet, Junsu clasped in his arms.
The distance was too great, and his burden was so incredibly heavy that Yoochun’s head swam and the path before him rose to meet him in swells with each unsteady step. He could hardly breathe.
It wasn’t until they were forcing his grip apart, nearly dragging Junsu from his arms against his will that he realized they had reached him. But he still couldn’t bear to let him go, not until one medic delivered a stinging slap to his cheek to shock him back into the present.
The next few minutes were a sickening blur as he followed the group at a run, shrieking sirens bruising his ears as he clutched Junsu’s hand, the only thing they allowed him to do as they quickly attended to Junsu’s wounds in the back of the speeding ambulance.
No one seemed to hear his hoarse, choked cries. Least of all the ashen slack face now covered with an oxygen mask that did nothing to hide the blood smeared across it.
Yoochun wanted to reach out and wipe it off, wanted to lay kisses all over that face. Wanted to breathe warmth into those pale lips, but he couldn’t even move. The world was crashing down around him and he was helpless to stand against the buffeting storm that was so much more terrifying because it was something that could never be undone or rewound.
When at last he was unable to remain by Junsu’s side, bodily restrained by the hospital staff as the doors swung shut before him and took Junsu away, Yoochun finally lost it and collapsed to the floor.
The world was tilted and steeped in shadows, and as much as they tried to take him somewhere to rest he wouldn’t leave his place by the doors. It wasn’t until they asked about identities and guardians that he numbly remembered Jaejoong, and he smeared blood all over the device as he fumbled his phone from his pocket.
At that moment, Yoochun thought that there was nothing more devastating than a phone that never picked up. He was all alone and he surely was going crazy.
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Impersonal, empty, and cold. And overall just lonely and sad.
That’s what Jaejoong’s apartment felt like, and Changmin looked around the small place sadly, eyes sweeping over the bare walls and dead colors filling it up.
Beside him he could feel Jaejoong watching him, could feel the heavy weight of his eyes just waiting for his response and reaction, and Changmin’s eyes lingered on the lone picture frame that sat off to the side on a low table.
It was a picture of Jaejoong and Junsu, young and happy, faces glowing with an energy and youth Changmin hadn’t ever seen on either of their faces before, and that realization shook him slightly.
He had never known the darkness that surrounded Junsu’s sunny smiles had been so deep and impenetrable. More than that, he’d never known he would begin to care about someone who was ensnared in such a lifeless cold existence. He never could have guessed he’d ever want so desperately to bring light and happiness to someone like he wanted to now.
And with that thought in mind he turned to the man shifting uncomfortably beside him.
Changmin managed a small smile, reaching out to pull Jaejoong’s hands apart, holding one captive in his own as he couldn’t bear to see the other fidgeting so awkwardly in his own home.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Jaejoong looked at him with an unreadable expression. “You’re disappointed, aren’t you?”
Shaking his head quickly, Changmin squeezed Jaejoong’s hand gently. “I don’t care what kind of life you lived before…as long as the one you make with me is brighter.”
He surprised even himself with both his bold assumption they’d be together as well as the confident way he spoke.
Jaejoong stared at him blankly for a few moments, hesitating, a question loud in his eyes. His voice was incredibly soft. “You…do you want to stay with me?”
It sounded as if he already anticipated Changmin’s answer to be no, to reject him in some way, and Changmin forced himself to meet those big imploring eyes. He looked so fragile, so unguarded and such a far cry from the fierce, intimidating sparks that had flown the first time they’d met.
He swallowed shakily as he realized just how much had changed since then, and just how much he’d fallen. “If you’ll have me.” He mumbled, feeling unsure of his position, unsure of how much Jaejoong actually wanted him, or if the other ever had thought of a future with Changmin in it.
Jaejoong’s response was a slow smile that made his eyes light up softly, beautifully, and he stepped closer to fold Changmin into his arms, easy and comfortable as if he’d done it a million times. Changmin leaned against him with baited breath.
Did this mean yes or was it a gentle apologetic no? He didn’t want to ask. But Jaejoong was speaking into his shoulder, voice low and so openly honest and vulnerable that the words sunk deep into his heart.
“I’d like to have you forever, Changmin-ah. Just like this.”
Changmin’s thoughts went fuzzy as he tightened his arms around the other, feeling warmth from the lithe body resting against his, warmth in his heart giddy and intoxicating as Jaejoong continued to whisper, warmth pouring out of each word that slipped from his lips. “Let me protect you. Let me be the one to love you. I’ll give you everything.”
And Changmin couldn’t control himself any more, couldn’t stand the fragility in the other’s voice, almost as if he were ready to break apart should Changmin push him away. All he wanted to do was sink into that offered embrace, wanted to get lost in Jaejoong, and the eyes he turned down towards the other were shining with hope and a desperate need. A need to know this was all real. That this was all going to be okay. Because Jaejoong was the only thing he wanted.
He was scared because he’d already given in, believing every word. But even if it were a dream, a fleeting fantasy, he didn’t care whatever might happen because this was the only thing that meant anything, and he was the first to move.
Shy and inexperienced, but nonetheless earnest, and so infatuated with the other as he leaned down to awkwardly kiss Jaejoong fully on the lips. Jaejoong met him halfway, guiding his head to the right as he pressed his body closer. And Changmin’s breath still caught in his throat at the feeling, his heart skipping and tripping in such quick succession that his head felt light.
Jaejoong’s mouth was so warm, and his kisses so firm and insistent, that Changmin was soon drowning, unable to do anything but follow the hands encircling his arms when they pushed him gently back into the room.
He clung to Jaejoong’s shoulders as suddenly Jaejoong was leaning him down onto the couch, only able to focus on the bloom of electric heat seeping through his stomach and the taste of the honeyed kisses that were quickly making him feel giddy and drunk.
Hardly realizing what he was doing, he let his hands slip into Jaejoong’s silky hair as soft wet lips pressed down his neck. And he really wasn’t sure when or how it happened, but their shirts were already gone and his mind went blank in pleasure at the soft heat of their skin meeting.
Each caress, each kiss, each glimpse of softly glittering eyes was instant fireworks, explosions of butterfly-soft star light. So enraptured in the way their mouths fit together, hands dancing across warm skin as they couldn't seem to get enough of each other, they both chose to ignore the sudden ringing of Jaejoong’s cell phone across the room in his jacket pocket. Changmin could hardly even hear it as all his senses were filled with the other man. Laid out beneath him as they brushed foreheads intimately, staring deep into each other’s eyes.
Then Changmin was slipping his arms around Jaejoong’s neck, a wordless entreaty as he pulled him down fully upon himself, setting his heart racing and his body tingling as the heavy warm weight of another body pressed him down into the cushions.
He wanted to hear nothing but the sound of Jaejoong’s breathing, those thudding heartbeats, and soft words falling from even softer lips, but the phone continued to ring incessantly, shrill and cutting through the blur of his mind.
Jaejoong reluctantly paused with both hands curled around Changmin’s hips, face pressed against his cheek. Hot air trickled passed his ear as Jaejoong let out a slow breath on a sigh, a sweet moment he wanted to float in as his eyelids drooped closed. But after dropping a quiet lingering kiss upon the spot, the other was already sitting back and pulling away.
“Let me just turn it off.” Jaejoong muttered, moving away, and Changmin followed his every movement with longing eyes.
It wasn’t until Jaejoong finally got the phone out, flipping it open to turn it off but hesitating as he looked at the number flashing across the screen, that something cold shot through Changmin’s chest.
Jaejoong frowned, pressing a button and the ringing finally stopped. But Changmin was pushing himself up into a sitting position suddenly feeling sick and like his insides were clenching in all the wrong places.
“Hyung!” His voice was oddly husky, sandpapery, but the tone was still sharp and Jaejoong’s head snapped around to look at him immediately. “Junsu!” Was all he could get out, unable to form a verbal connection to the horrible feeling now pulsing through his body. How could he have forgotten?
“Junsu? Why, what it is?” Jaejoong was beside him in a heartbeat, one hand brushing along his face in a comforting gesture as Changmin just shook his head helplessly. The other man just looked confused and much too calm for the panic that was now filling Changmin’s mind.
Before either of them could utter another word, and as if catching onto Changmin’s panic, the phone came to life again; and this time Changmin snatched it out of Jaejoong’s lax fingers, connecting the call a second later only to let a dreadful broken sound leak from the speakers to fill the silence between them.
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Next Chapter: 27~~
A/N: ahg, i kno jaemin scene is crap but it was killing meeee~ >< and it was either leave it as it is or still not update so...uhg XD *rolls under the bed*
Free Counter
Pairing(s): Jaemin, Yoosu
Length: Chaptered 26/27
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: (gang) violence, language, abduction
Genre: AU, drama, angst
Summary: Jaejoong and his cousin have been swept up into the world of violence and gangs. The struggle and fight for his sanity is complicated greatly by the addition of a certain Shim Changmin into the mix. Will he be able to protect those he loves as well as save himself?
A/N: ooo..mg.. cant believe im finally updating this ! T^T i cant apologize enough for the wait, and i hope this part doesnt suck TOO much, cuz it was sooo hard to get it out... ㅠㅂㅠ HUHUHU !!
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 - part 1 - part 2 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25
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Junsu knew that no one was coming to save him that time. He’d finally had his chance to prove himself, to deal with things on his own. Finally he’d succeeded at driving Yoochun away for good, and ensured that Jaejoong wouldn’t come do it for him this time either.
But for what? All to just now lay brokenly on the dirty cold cement, face ground into the floor, body limp and useless.
Yes, he finally got what was long coming to him. The men who’d interrogated him didn’t even watch him anymore, sitting over at a makeshift table gambling away their meager wages with a deck of dirty cards. He was obviously not a threat, never had been, and his fate was already sealed. He wouldn’t be leaving the place alive.
As of now, he was nothing more than a failed attempt at a lure. Useless to them in every way as he even failed to provide them with a connection or contact with the undercover. Yoochun wouldn’t answer his phone, and it was just one more stinging jab to his thoroughly bruised heart since he knew the man must be avoiding it on purpose. They had forced him to leave a few voicemails on Yoochun’s phone after finding out which number was his, though the calls were nothing more than the pathetic disgusting sounds of his own cries and pleas.
He wondered blearily if Yoochun had even checked the messages and heard it. He doubted it as he was sure the man had given up on him for Junsu had made it quite clear he wanted nothing to do with him. It really was pathetic the way he now regretted it all, but it didn’t make a difference now.
Either way Yoochun wouldn’t come, and even if he somehow miraculously showed up before Junsu was beaten to death Junsu was sure he’d be met with scorn if not be ignored completely.
He could remember only too clearly the last time he saw Yoochun, the look in his eyes was so defeated… and that night he’d pushed him away seemed to really be the very last time. He laughed at himself degradingly. That this would be his punishment… it really was too ironic and cruel.
It was really too late to even think it, but he couldn’t help but think that if Yoochun had just tried one more time, shown him that sparkle of determination, that enveloping warmth one more time…the same things that had made Junsu’s heart ache and knees go weak even as his mind told himself not to fall for the other man’s charms, just one more time would have been enough to if not convince him at least make him give in to his own desires.
As much as he’d struggled to resist, rejecting his own feelings and brusquely driving Yoochun away, he resolutely held to the fact that he couldn’t trust a double agent. Not someone who’s job was lying and playing people just to get them to do what he wanted to fulfill his own ends, just using them like disposable puppets. Just as he was using Jaejoong now, and what rankled the most was the way Jaejoong let him.
Junsu was still so angry at Yoochun for using his hyung, for making Jaejoong choose, and angry and terrified because when presented with that choice, Jaejoong had not chosen him.
Finally he was on his own like he always thought he wanted, and he could hardly admit to himself that he didn’t actually want it, that he never had, because he really had no idea what he wanted. If anything, he just wished things were back the way they always were.
But as much as he tried, laying there alone and forgotten, he couldn’t seem to stop the images of everything gone wrong from flooding his head. He couldn’t forget that dead look in Jaejoong’s eyes ever since he’d come back, nor could he forget the heartbreaking sobs of a broken man whom he’d idolized and thought of as invincible.
Most of all he was deeply shaken and scared that the one person who was his closest family had
changed into someone unrecognizable. And he thought he could never get him back.
Everything precious to him…every hope or dream…every regret…none of it mattered anymore. A hollow emptiness far greater than any sadness seemed to slowly seep through him. Faced now with the end, he found he couldn’t even feel anymore much less cry.
Until they decided to kill him, he was a prisoner to his own father. Unable to follow through with his mission to lure Yoochun to Kim’s base, they seemed to just be waiting for the last order to get rid of him.
Although he was foolish to not have seen it coming, he’d still been shocked and struck dumb as his own personal guards turned on him, no doubt on his father’s orders. The uncaring dismissal of his father didn’t hurt as much as the lack of even disappointment or anger. Just nothing. As if his father had not expected anything from him in the first place, as if he was just waiting for some sort of excuse to get rid of him.
And it didn’t just mean kicking him out. It meant killing him. He couldn’t deny he was scared, but he also knew there was no hope. No one was on his side, no one would come for him. He didn’t even want Jaejoong to come. He didn’t want Jaejoong to be hurt because of him anymore. He just wished it would be over with faster.
The only thing he could do, the only way his death would be important, was that it would set Jaejoong free. Once Junsu was gone, Jaejoong had no reason to stay. He could finally leave and live the life that he’d always wanted before Junsu held him back. No longer bound by a helpless cousin who never deserved his care and protection.
He was sure Jaejoong would secretly be relieved to finally be rid of his burden even if he would never admit it. Junsu would give him that selfish desire because Jaejoong would never ask it of him. After all, Junsu knew now that Jaejoong would rather give his everything to Changmin…would probably even die for Changmin.
Staring blankly at the dirty cement just before him seemed even too hard of a task. One eye was already half swollen-shut and he blearily closed the other eye in defeat.
Closing his eyes to the world only made him more highly aware of his injuries. One of his arms was throbbing and broken, the other shoulder torn painfully from the socket. A few of his ribs felt seriously bruised if not cracked, and Junsu knew it would be nothing but pain until the end. The men hadn’t held back, and it was the worst he’d ever been beaten in his life.
Ever since Changmin had called, which seemed like days ago, he could only replay the same thoughts in his pain-shocked brain. Jaejoong was following Yoochun’s orders on some pointlessly dangerous task, while Changmin also seemed to be in trouble, and no one would even know that Junsu was dying alone on the dirty ground.
He tried to lie to himself and say that they wouldn’t care, but it hurt even more to recall Changmin’s distraught voice calling for him through the phone. Both Changmin and Jaejoong would blame themselves…though it was only all Junsu’s fault. This whole thing was.
If he hadn’t fallen under Yoochun’s spell…those hypnotic chocolate eyes full of promises. Yoochun…who was intoxicating warmth and strength, drawing him helplessly in, enveloping all his senses with sweet giddy happiness. As if they were normal and this was all okay.
He really had felt so indescribably happy for those few short days. Meeting the most strikingly handsome charming man he’d ever laid eyes on, someone who honestly seemed to have liked him too, then getting both Jaejoong and Changmin back alive. It had almost been perfect.
Until he’d found out it was all just part of a larger scheme, and that he, Junsu, was merely a means to an end. His heart was broken more painfully than his body, and he didn’t want to live with it piercing through his chest so insistently every waking moment.
With a small broken sigh bordering on a sob, Junsu tried to force himself to succumb to the swirling black pit that had continually been wavering at the edges of his mind.
He didn’t want to think or feel anymore. He didn’t want to hear the shouting thugs, their grating voices or their dirty curses. He didn’t want to be awake when they came back over to hurt him more.
But although the sounds didn’t come closer, neither did they stop. And with each loud crash and each new pair of running feet, the hazy clouds Junsu longed for so desperately thinned and retreated, a last cruel denial of the saving bliss of unconsciousness.
He really wished he could cry. If tears could take the pain away.
Not before long, he realized that something really was going on around him. He couldn’t block it out as much as he tried, and finally he let his eyes peel open as much as he could manage.
It seemed all of Kim’s men were mobilizing in the large space because they apparently had visitors. And it must be important and big, because Junsu clearly heard his father’s voice, loud and commanding above the commotion.
If this was going to turn to bloodshed Junsu silently pleaded that someone be merciful enough to give him the quickest and easiest departure with a bullet. He didn’t want to live if it meant more physical torture.
His eyes flitted slowly between the gathering forms throughout the room. There was jeering and spitting, and someone was talking steadily from the far door. A ripple went through the crowd followed by renewed shouting.
All it took was a brief moment where the men shifted just so, just enough so Junsu could see the group of men who had entered the space. And he wished he hadn’t seen, wished he could even just close his eyes because his heart lay heavy and dead in his body.
Yoochun was there. Leading the large group of sinister looking men, their faces lit with malice and ready for blood. They churned behind him with barely concealed restraint, a wave of violent energy that quickly diffused through Kim’s men as well.
And Yoochun fit in with them perfectly. The cold flash in his eyes, the cruel turn of his mouth. He was nothing but dark and terrifying, his hand openly laid upon his unconcealed weapon, and he, along with those behind him, looked only too willing to use it. They had obviously come to fight, not to deal, and Junsu blinked slowly. His only functioning eye was blurry and everything seemed oddly shadowed.
He couldn’t really see anything except for that stone-cold face, the impassive expression and the sharp terrifying glint in those eyes. He didn’t know who that person was, and the small bubble of hope that had formed in his chest slowly grew into a suffocating pressure, choking him with regret and fear as the only person who might have helped him, who had spoken and looked at him so lovingly, now looked ready to kill.
It must be his true image. Junsu knew it deep down, and he let the pang of betrayal flow freely through him. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted him at all, he had been right…but it didn’t hurt any less admitting it.
Men were surrounding the incoming group, threats and curses flying through the air as the men finally came to a stop, bristling and snarling at the jeering thugs around them. Junsu couldn’t understand the words flying through the air, the demands from Kim’s men met with rude gestures and guffawing laughter.
It seemed harmless enough, a battle of words, and the clash of blood-hungry eyes.
His vision slid sideways and unfocused further as hands slipped under his shoulders. He was hauled to his feet but couldn’t even support himself. His stomach churned and his whole body protested with searing streaks of fire, and he wished for nothing more than the cold hard safety of the ground.
He saw black as suddenly he was shoved forward, falling heavily to the floor as he was helpless to protect himself or even attempt to slow his fall. His consciousness flickered in and out, loud voices, laughter, swearing, and he knew they were talking about him, could hear his father’s voice clearly through the rest of the noise.
It didn’t matter. He just felt so tired…beyond humiliated at being beaten to death before all these men who thought nothing of him, a pathetic excuse for the boss’s son. And even more so now in front of the one man he wished he had never met. Because he couldn’t deny the tug on his heart when he looked up through swimming eyes to see Yoochun’s face above his.
He was standing completely frozen, only a few paces away, but he was looking directly at him. And Junsu couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to look away. As pathetic as it was, he wanted this to be the last thing he saw before he was gone.
But he belatedly became aware of what was going on as those lips mesmerizing lips moved, words he couldn’t hear before a shout of outrage went up; he realized they had been asking him to identify the spy, and he guessed he’d given it all away only too easily.
He wondered if Yoochun would forgive him. It didn’t matter anymore because he could no longer see him, bodies were blocking his view as men came to life all around the room.
Shouting filled his ears and he slipped into the darkness behind his eyes as fighting broke out, fierce and purposeful.
He was too beaten down and tired to feel anything else, and he longed for it just to end so he could rest. He didn’t care anymore, even as the faint blaring of sirens and a voice drifting over a loudspeaker filtered through the airways of the building.
It was the police. A voice calling out for a surrender, a voice telling them they were surrounded, a voice full of commanding superiority that must have been his imagination.
Because he knew he was delirious. He couldn’t think over the sudden thundering of gunshots, ripping through bodies and busting glass windows and splintering any object in their paths. And the screaming. So much screaming.
His heavy lids opened reluctantly as hands again took hold of him. Someone lifting him up quickly and he fell heavily against a broad body behind him. Somehow he found the strength to lift his head, and saw with sudden incredible clarity the man standing in front of him. A man with a gun pointed directly at him.
There wasn’t a single thought in his head as he stared dumbly at the figure before him. It was only a split second later before the pocket of silence surrounding him ripped apart with a roar and something hot punched him in the gut. It was only too easy to surrender at last to the rushing black nothingness.
*********
Yoochun saw it as if through slow motion. The way the man lifted the gun, aiming at the burly man whose arms were still wrapped around Junsu. All it took was a slight tug to pull the small frame in front of himself, blocking, as the gun exploded, at such close range there was no way he could miss.
He saw it in slow motion as Junsu’s body jerked with the impact, knocking backwards against the man who also stumbled, letting them both fall to the ground. Yoochun’s gun had gone off too, just a moment too late. The offending gunman now lay out bloody on the ground
And Yoochun’s head felt like it was splitting, all sound and energy hyper focusing as his eyes couldn’t see anything but that small body that was seeping blood everywhere. And there was screaming and noise all around him, the sounds of guns and men yelling. Anger, pain, and horror.
And the man beneath Junsu’s crooked limp body was still moving, was shoving the smaller body off of himself, was staggering to his feet as his own chest bled red. Yoochun wanted to think it was the man’s own. Didn’t want to even consider that it could be Junsu’s.
And he was running forward, lifting his gun, pulling the trigger once, twice, three times. And the bloody holes that spurted from the man’s chest were not enough. And the blood that dribbled out of that mouth as the man sagged heavily to the floor was not satisfying. Because Junsu wasn’t moving. He wasn’t fucking moving.
Yoochun had fallen to his knees beside the prone figure, one violently shaking hand pressing against the wound desperately. But red was seeping through his fingers, greedily staining everything the color of death. And his voice was nearly hysterical as he yelled into his radio, begging and swearing and demanding an ambulance.
Vaguely he was aware of a pair of men flanking him, shooting anyone who tried to approach him, protecting him, but he almost couldn’t care. Because the body he now cradled tightly against his chest was so small and unmoving in his arms. The bloodied face upturned to his was deathly pale, eyes closed, head lolling lifelessly to one side. And he couldn’t breathe as he screamed the man’s name with every sob that tore from his chest.
He was too late, too late, just too fucking late.
Everything he’d planned didn’t matter if he lost Junsu now. Everything happening around him faded into nothing. Everything he’d worked for, suffered through all these years…he’d give it all up, gladly leave it all in ruins if it meant saving the man now bleeding to death in his arms.
And he couldn’t even see him clearly because of the tears blurring his eyes, and his hands were burning with the heat of Junsu’s life staining them. It was a nightmare that the first person he ever fell for, the first time he ever let someone into his heart would be the first time he failed, the first time someone he loved would die because of him.
Frantically he looked around himself for something to make this all stop, for something to help him, rocking Junsu brokenly as he muttered thick pleas and curses into deaf ears. He’d never felt so utterly powerless, quickly slipping into a blind hysteria as he remembered only too vividly the way he swore to protect him after almost losing him once to Jung. But it was all his fault Junsu was like this now. This couldn’t be happening!
His panicked searching eyes flew unseeing over the tangles of men still fighting, now interspersed with men in uniforms struggling to overpower and subdue the thugs. The men in thick protection carrying a stretcher now coming through the open door were much too far away, and his gaze locked on them as he staggered to his feet, Junsu clasped in his arms.
The distance was too great, and his burden was so incredibly heavy that Yoochun’s head swam and the path before him rose to meet him in swells with each unsteady step. He could hardly breathe.
It wasn’t until they were forcing his grip apart, nearly dragging Junsu from his arms against his will that he realized they had reached him. But he still couldn’t bear to let him go, not until one medic delivered a stinging slap to his cheek to shock him back into the present.
The next few minutes were a sickening blur as he followed the group at a run, shrieking sirens bruising his ears as he clutched Junsu’s hand, the only thing they allowed him to do as they quickly attended to Junsu’s wounds in the back of the speeding ambulance.
No one seemed to hear his hoarse, choked cries. Least of all the ashen slack face now covered with an oxygen mask that did nothing to hide the blood smeared across it.
Yoochun wanted to reach out and wipe it off, wanted to lay kisses all over that face. Wanted to breathe warmth into those pale lips, but he couldn’t even move. The world was crashing down around him and he was helpless to stand against the buffeting storm that was so much more terrifying because it was something that could never be undone or rewound.
When at last he was unable to remain by Junsu’s side, bodily restrained by the hospital staff as the doors swung shut before him and took Junsu away, Yoochun finally lost it and collapsed to the floor.
The world was tilted and steeped in shadows, and as much as they tried to take him somewhere to rest he wouldn’t leave his place by the doors. It wasn’t until they asked about identities and guardians that he numbly remembered Jaejoong, and he smeared blood all over the device as he fumbled his phone from his pocket.
At that moment, Yoochun thought that there was nothing more devastating than a phone that never picked up. He was all alone and he surely was going crazy.
************
Impersonal, empty, and cold. And overall just lonely and sad.
That’s what Jaejoong’s apartment felt like, and Changmin looked around the small place sadly, eyes sweeping over the bare walls and dead colors filling it up.
Beside him he could feel Jaejoong watching him, could feel the heavy weight of his eyes just waiting for his response and reaction, and Changmin’s eyes lingered on the lone picture frame that sat off to the side on a low table.
It was a picture of Jaejoong and Junsu, young and happy, faces glowing with an energy and youth Changmin hadn’t ever seen on either of their faces before, and that realization shook him slightly.
He had never known the darkness that surrounded Junsu’s sunny smiles had been so deep and impenetrable. More than that, he’d never known he would begin to care about someone who was ensnared in such a lifeless cold existence. He never could have guessed he’d ever want so desperately to bring light and happiness to someone like he wanted to now.
And with that thought in mind he turned to the man shifting uncomfortably beside him.
Changmin managed a small smile, reaching out to pull Jaejoong’s hands apart, holding one captive in his own as he couldn’t bear to see the other fidgeting so awkwardly in his own home.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Jaejoong looked at him with an unreadable expression. “You’re disappointed, aren’t you?”
Shaking his head quickly, Changmin squeezed Jaejoong’s hand gently. “I don’t care what kind of life you lived before…as long as the one you make with me is brighter.”
He surprised even himself with both his bold assumption they’d be together as well as the confident way he spoke.
Jaejoong stared at him blankly for a few moments, hesitating, a question loud in his eyes. His voice was incredibly soft. “You…do you want to stay with me?”
It sounded as if he already anticipated Changmin’s answer to be no, to reject him in some way, and Changmin forced himself to meet those big imploring eyes. He looked so fragile, so unguarded and such a far cry from the fierce, intimidating sparks that had flown the first time they’d met.
He swallowed shakily as he realized just how much had changed since then, and just how much he’d fallen. “If you’ll have me.” He mumbled, feeling unsure of his position, unsure of how much Jaejoong actually wanted him, or if the other ever had thought of a future with Changmin in it.
Jaejoong’s response was a slow smile that made his eyes light up softly, beautifully, and he stepped closer to fold Changmin into his arms, easy and comfortable as if he’d done it a million times. Changmin leaned against him with baited breath.
Did this mean yes or was it a gentle apologetic no? He didn’t want to ask. But Jaejoong was speaking into his shoulder, voice low and so openly honest and vulnerable that the words sunk deep into his heart.
“I’d like to have you forever, Changmin-ah. Just like this.”
Changmin’s thoughts went fuzzy as he tightened his arms around the other, feeling warmth from the lithe body resting against his, warmth in his heart giddy and intoxicating as Jaejoong continued to whisper, warmth pouring out of each word that slipped from his lips. “Let me protect you. Let me be the one to love you. I’ll give you everything.”
And Changmin couldn’t control himself any more, couldn’t stand the fragility in the other’s voice, almost as if he were ready to break apart should Changmin push him away. All he wanted to do was sink into that offered embrace, wanted to get lost in Jaejoong, and the eyes he turned down towards the other were shining with hope and a desperate need. A need to know this was all real. That this was all going to be okay. Because Jaejoong was the only thing he wanted.
He was scared because he’d already given in, believing every word. But even if it were a dream, a fleeting fantasy, he didn’t care whatever might happen because this was the only thing that meant anything, and he was the first to move.
Shy and inexperienced, but nonetheless earnest, and so infatuated with the other as he leaned down to awkwardly kiss Jaejoong fully on the lips. Jaejoong met him halfway, guiding his head to the right as he pressed his body closer. And Changmin’s breath still caught in his throat at the feeling, his heart skipping and tripping in such quick succession that his head felt light.
Jaejoong’s mouth was so warm, and his kisses so firm and insistent, that Changmin was soon drowning, unable to do anything but follow the hands encircling his arms when they pushed him gently back into the room.
He clung to Jaejoong’s shoulders as suddenly Jaejoong was leaning him down onto the couch, only able to focus on the bloom of electric heat seeping through his stomach and the taste of the honeyed kisses that were quickly making him feel giddy and drunk.
Hardly realizing what he was doing, he let his hands slip into Jaejoong’s silky hair as soft wet lips pressed down his neck. And he really wasn’t sure when or how it happened, but their shirts were already gone and his mind went blank in pleasure at the soft heat of their skin meeting.
Each caress, each kiss, each glimpse of softly glittering eyes was instant fireworks, explosions of butterfly-soft star light. So enraptured in the way their mouths fit together, hands dancing across warm skin as they couldn't seem to get enough of each other, they both chose to ignore the sudden ringing of Jaejoong’s cell phone across the room in his jacket pocket. Changmin could hardly even hear it as all his senses were filled with the other man. Laid out beneath him as they brushed foreheads intimately, staring deep into each other’s eyes.
Then Changmin was slipping his arms around Jaejoong’s neck, a wordless entreaty as he pulled him down fully upon himself, setting his heart racing and his body tingling as the heavy warm weight of another body pressed him down into the cushions.
He wanted to hear nothing but the sound of Jaejoong’s breathing, those thudding heartbeats, and soft words falling from even softer lips, but the phone continued to ring incessantly, shrill and cutting through the blur of his mind.
Jaejoong reluctantly paused with both hands curled around Changmin’s hips, face pressed against his cheek. Hot air trickled passed his ear as Jaejoong let out a slow breath on a sigh, a sweet moment he wanted to float in as his eyelids drooped closed. But after dropping a quiet lingering kiss upon the spot, the other was already sitting back and pulling away.
“Let me just turn it off.” Jaejoong muttered, moving away, and Changmin followed his every movement with longing eyes.
It wasn’t until Jaejoong finally got the phone out, flipping it open to turn it off but hesitating as he looked at the number flashing across the screen, that something cold shot through Changmin’s chest.
Jaejoong frowned, pressing a button and the ringing finally stopped. But Changmin was pushing himself up into a sitting position suddenly feeling sick and like his insides were clenching in all the wrong places.
“Hyung!” His voice was oddly husky, sandpapery, but the tone was still sharp and Jaejoong’s head snapped around to look at him immediately. “Junsu!” Was all he could get out, unable to form a verbal connection to the horrible feeling now pulsing through his body. How could he have forgotten?
“Junsu? Why, what it is?” Jaejoong was beside him in a heartbeat, one hand brushing along his face in a comforting gesture as Changmin just shook his head helplessly. The other man just looked confused and much too calm for the panic that was now filling Changmin’s mind.
Before either of them could utter another word, and as if catching onto Changmin’s panic, the phone came to life again; and this time Changmin snatched it out of Jaejoong’s lax fingers, connecting the call a second later only to let a dreadful broken sound leak from the speakers to fill the silence between them.
*********
Next Chapter: 27~~
A/N: ahg, i kno jaemin scene is crap but it was killing meeee~ >< and it was either leave it as it is or still not update so...uhg XD *rolls under the bed*
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