Prompt #7: No One Else

[100xoverfest]

Prompt: #7
Title: No One Else
Genre: Royal!Au, Spy!Au
Rating: NC-17 
Word count: 8 725
Side Pairings: -
Warning/s: explicit description of torture, mention of rape
Season: Spring
Summary: Chief Liaison Officer Yifan of the Allied Intelligence Agency faced a tough choice - betraying the prince whom he served and loved, his colleagues, his homeland, his allied country and got to live, or, got tortured to death with no guarantee that he would be allowed to live when he returned.

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Author’s Note: Coupling song - No One Else by Lee Seung Chul.

The story is set in a fictional modern Korea whose form of government is monarchy. Also, I tweaked Yifan’s position a bit. Hope you don’t mind.

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~1~

The coup came as a shock. It was expected but Yifan and the administration never thought it would come this soon. The progressive stance taken by the Queen, which would continue to be taken by the Crown Prince when he assumed the throne in the future, did not sit well with a lot of conservatives. She had been vehemently opposed and attacked ever since she claimed the throne. Now, the opponents wanted her to be gone for good and installed a new head of state. This was not the first rebel attempt against the queen, by the way. Two assassination were prevented and numerous of attempts were relinquished before their conception. The director of the Allied Intelligence Agency, where Yifan was the Chief Liaison Officer, had been killed by the traitors. The traitors knew the palace and the schedule of key members of the administration, including that of the Queen and the Crown Prince. Therefore, they must be insiders. In addition, judging by the weapons and the scope of their attack, they had tough-tier sponsors and the whole thing had been planned for a long time.

Yifan blamed himself for whole mess. He had been personally appointed by the Queen to investigate moles within the intelligence agencies. He had already got three leaders and they acted before he could get to the last one. Fortunately, the Crown Prince and the Queen were safe with a handful of clean officers at a secret safe house, recently built in accordance to Yifan’s recommendation, or so he hoped. I put all my faith in you, Oh Sehun, he thought with a heavy sigh. He was only able to secure the Crown Prince’s escape and then he was captured. Thus, he had no idea who the Queen had on her side, which side the army was on and those concerns were burning him inside out. Right now, he was handcuffed, blindfolded and being taken to where only god knew. Torture was expected. If he was released, he chuckled at the thought, as if it would ever happen, he would be vetted and then killed off. It was the principle of the Intelligence Agencies, always strictly imposed.

~2~

Yifan chose to attend military school when he was 18 to save his mother from financial burden and to be independent. As a part of the Allied Intelligence program, he and a few selected others were sent to Korea for training after the first month test. The program was comprised of three stages. In stage one - training, trainees would be trained for five years. Then came stage two - apprentice, graduates would serve seniors in foreign countries for around five years; positions were depended on the director’s appointment. Stage three was the last one - promotion, apprentices now officially joined the Allied Intelligence Agency. The Agency was set up for shared intelligence of ‘common enemies’ between Korea and China. Beside that, it functioned as a sort of black op, served to do the government’s dirty jobs. The whole training was paid for, of course, as the mortality rate was always high, partly due to accidents during field work, partly due to ‘necessary neutralization’ - a fancy phrase referring to cover-up kills of serving agents. However, the salary, bonus, insurance and pension were something out of the wildest dreams, enticing any youngsters to be a part of it. Trainees would train along with other Koreans in the military and learn the language. In addition to espionage training, trainees had to accomplish an academic program as well.

The five-year program was harsh, an understatement. Every practices and tests were designed to push every trainee limit. They were expected to be superhumans when making through the whole thing, as Luhan - a friend he made among the Chinese, put it. They were divided into different classes and tested monthly. Those at the bottom would either be sent back to China, if one was a Chinese or to the regular military program, if one a Korea.

Everyone was packing for the New Year break when an instructor called Yifan to his office. When he stepped in, he froze at the door when he saw the Queen, the Crown Prince and his mother there.

“Come in, Mr. Wu,” the Queen said warmly.

He closed the door, trying hard to hide his shaking. He came to sit next to his mom, opposite of the two royals.

“You must have known my son, the Crown Prince, Junmyeon?”

Yifan nodded, “Yes, your grace. We’re, uh, in the same, same unit.”

He rather admired the Queen, letting the Crown Prince attend the program and giving him zero partial treatment. Junmyeon ate, slept, practiced and got berated by the training officers alike and among every other commoner, though his bodyguards presented 24/7, the man was too important to be left unsupervised after all. The Prince got along well to everyone’s delight surprise. He was rather reserved but was more down-to-earth than the trainees expected him to be, cracking colloquial, sometimes downright dirty jokes every now and then. He was dead serious during practice, pouring his 200% into everything.

“What do you think of him? Just answer naturally. It’s okay.”

“Um, he’s … hard-working. Very persevere. Serious.”

The Queen smiled. She drank a little iced coffee from the glass, (iced black coffee, Yifan found it interesting that she chose such a commoner drink, he had expected she would drink tea) inhaled, and said, “I’m not going to beat around the bush. I call you here today to seek your opinion about the betrothal to my son.”

Yifan eyes blew wide. He hoped he did not mishear anything. The Queen of Korea just asked him to marry her son, the Crown Prince. He turned to his mom, “You agree …”

“No, the decision is on you. I did tell her that since this is such a big decision, you’d need a little time to think it through.”

Yifan turned back to the Queen, “Can I ask why it’s me?”

She smiled kindly, “Well, just know that you come highly recommended.”

Yifan nodded several times, “Um, I wonder … Can, um, I and Jun … I mean the Crown Prince, uh, date before we … get serious?”

The Crown Prince seemed surprise. The Queen stayed silent for a while, “Normally, betrothal would only be discussed with parents. Tradition. And unless the family I propose to is very powerful, they would not say no. But I’m not someone who’s for dated traditions, as you well know. So, I guess I’m gonna break tradition again. Okay, go on a few dates with each other. Then you can let me know if you want to take things further. Take as long as you need. After all, us royals don’t just hold meaningless titles, but heavy responsibilities along with them. Well, mommies’re gonna let you to have a little discussion in private.”

They all stood up. The Queen shook his hand and got out of the room with his mom. The room fell silent again.

“You can just ask me out on a date without having your mother to do this, you know?” Yifan said to the Crown Prince. He did not know where he got the nerves to joke about this with him.

Junmyeon blinked a few times. His serious demeanor slowly slipped away and he laughed. He cleared his throat, “I was right when recommending you to mother. So, … I’ll give my number so I’ll have someone to text stuff during the New Year break?”

Yifan chuckled, “Yeah, that’s a good start.”

~3~

The lights in the interrogation room blinded Yifan. He was now zip-tied to a chair in the middle of the room. When he got used to the light, he looked around. One of the many bases where the Agency imprisoned and “interrogate” “potential threats”. He had been to one of these. He had been in one of these rooms but as an interrogator, never in the position across the table. A person stepped in the room, cladded in full armor from head to toe, unrecognizable. He was quite damn sure that that person used voice changer, too. Whenever they had to interrogate people within the Complex - codename for all the intelligence agencies, they were all wired up like that to seal their identity, preventing the interrogatee from knowing who they were and used it against them. The atmosphere in the Complex were tolerable most of the time, until someone was caught selling secrets or did something they were not supposed to. My mind, those occasions turned allies into the worst enemies imaginable. The traitor stood in front of him.

“Hello, Chief Wu,” a low voice emitted from the figure. “I’ll skip the chit chat and got to the point. You know the process too well already. Tell us the whereabouts of the Queen and the Crown Prince and live …”

Yifan laughed, “Oh, please. I know too much. I investigated the moles. You’d never let me live in case you are defeated, I’ll report the traitors. They’d never let me live because I am captured. I’ll die either way so it’s best you stop wasting your time, your resources and just kill me right now.”

The figure remained silent. After a while, it spoke, “We will not fail. I guarantee you that. In a few months, the old regime will perish.”

“Yeah, right. Keep believing in delusions,” Yifan cut the interrogator off, “You say you’d skip the chit chat. Get it on, Young-hwan.”

Young-hwan paused. He then started to unmask himself, “What gives me away?”

“The way you walk. Your stature. Junmyeon will forgive none. He’ll eradicate both the trees and their roots. That’s his principle.”

Young-hwan let out a laugh and walked behind the table, pulling something out underneath it. “Go ahead and laugh. Take my words for it. I’m the closest one to him, after all. For real. Ignore what you think or listen to what people think about him. Underestimating him is a mistake, a fatal mistake.”

The agent did not reply Yifan. He quietly unzipped the package. Inside were two lines of color coded syringes - yellow on the left, blue on right. He stepped toward Yifan, pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and started cutting Yifan’s blazer and shirt. “Your favorite enhance interrogation technique, huh, Chief?”

“Barbiturate in one arm for sedation. Amphetamine in another to jolt the subject back up. Neat and effective.”

Young-hwan finished quick, throwing the clothing on the floor, leaving Yifan half-naked. He smoothed over the red-turned-purple marks all over his collar bones. “His highness’ beloved. The guy is really fond of his pet.”

Yifan stayed quiet at that remark. The agent went back to the table to fetch a blue syringe. He flicked it a few time and bent down, positioned it on Yifan’s right arm, “Enjoy the rollercoaster. But not too much, in case your heart explodes,” and pressed down. Yifan winced slightly at the sting and quickly slipped into a coma.

Yifan jolted back up, gasping. Air was vacumned out of his lungs. His heart was beating frantically. His blood speeded through his veins. Yifan scrunched his eyes, trying in vein to slow his heart down.

“Where is the Queen and the Crown Prince?”

Yifan grunted shakily, “I … already …” he gasped, “offered you ... to kill me.”

The last image Yifan saw before he zoned out was Young-hwan injecting the next shot.

Yifan jolted up again, screaming, gasping, shaking profusely. His toes curled. He was drenched with sweat. He was gripping the chair grips so hard it drew blood. Scratches on his wrists bleed some more. All he could hear was blood rushing in his veins. He was afraid they would blow up. His heartbeat trampled on one another. It was like drums were beating constantly inside out. Everything was a blur. He lost count of the shots long ago. He heard faintly that Young-hwan said something. He got used to the stingy feeling on his right arm a few minutes? hours? ago and fell slowly asleep once more.

~4~

“Are we … oh … getting serious?” Yifan voiced the question in between gasps. Not the best of time, he knew, when Junmyeon’s fingers were teasing his prostate and his mouth was on Yifan’s cock. “We’re fucking in the palace, your chamber. So I guess … ah …”

Junmyeon paused, looked up at him, making Yifan whine, “Do you want we to be serious?”

“Are you going to fuck me into saying ‘yes’?” He teased.

Junmyeon’s expression turned serious. “Do you want to talk …?”

“Later,” Yifan quickly cut him off. Junmyeon was a serious person. He was serious in everything. He would stop and make the two of them discuss this right now but Yifan did not want that, of course, they were having sex for crying out loud!

“Or so I thought,” Junmyeon slowly pulled his fingers out and reached up to kiss Yifan. He whispered into Yifan’s mouth, “On your hands and knees.” Yifan happily complied.

They had breakfast in the garden in the Crown Prince Chamber the next morning. It was a nice, warm spring day and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. Just a light gust of wind would send petals flying down the yard, creating a spectacular sight.

“I prefered the light pink ones over mother’s chamber more,” Junmyeon said, looking at the white petals flying in the wind. “Pink is more lively. White is just …” he sighed, “... sad.”

“Really? They’re beautiful regardless of the colors.” Yifan replied, eating some more rice.

Junmyeon smiled at him. After a while, he spoke up, “About yesterday …”

“Oh, did I please you, your highness?”

They both laughed. Yifan spoke up first after a while, “My answer is ‘yes’. I’ll sign the engagement.”

Junmyeon looked at him weirdly. Yifan intended to become an interrogation officer so he was studying in-depth for it. He could read people better than he used to but he always found it hard to read Junmyeon. “If we get serious then I look forward to marry you one day. That’s a lifetime commitment, Yifan. Unlike your spy job, being with me doesn’t have a retirement day. It also requires a lot of sacrifices. You’re 20. You don’t have to decide right now.”

“We’ve postponed this for two years already. Also, it’s either break up or marriage when one’s in a relationship, right?”

“Yeah. But I’m the Crown Prince. You may find yourself don’t belong to the world I was born into.”

“Morality is turned on its head the moment I was sent over here, into the program, Junmyeon. We are taught ‘enhance interrogations’ techniques! I hardly think a few elites swaying around is scarier than the Complex or the battlefield.”

“Don’t think of the palace so casually. You may find yourself wanting to be dead on a foreign country after meddling around for a while. People have gone crazy trapping in the four walls of this place, Yifan. If we get serious now then the politics start now.”

“I can wait, if you’re not ready.”

Junmyeon fell quiet for a while. “Okay, we’ll arrange a day.”

They continued eating in silence. “Hey, Fan. Once the betrothal is signed, you can’t back out. And we …” Junmyeon reached over to hold his hand, “There would be politics involved. And I can’t separate our relationship from that.”

“I know.” Yifan reassured him.

~5~

The shrieking sound of the cell door opening woke Yifan up. He winced at the dizziness and at the blood thumping like crazy in his temples. Once again, he was dragged out of the dark, tiny cell to the interrogation room. This time, his arms and legs were shackled on a wooden board. The interrogator was Min-ji, which was ironic because he was her mentor.

“If I have a daughter one day, I’m sure as fuck that I won’t name her Min-ji.”

She did not reply to that, “We’ve raided every safe house possible and still, no trace of them.”

“I’ll give you an answer now. I don’t know where they are.”

Her face went blank. “Not a good time for jokes, Chief.” She put a cloth over Yifan’s head, covering his face from eyes to mouth. “We’ve interrogated two dozens of architects, engineers, so on and no one knew about the safe house. Guess you must have had them killed.”

Allow Yifan to defend himself. He continuously fired the staff involving in building the safe houses, no need to kill them. Minji slowly poured water over the cloth. Fuck, Yifan thought, hell was going to start in a few seconds. The cloth was lowered to both the nose and mouth. And 3, 2, 1. Water was poured down again, rougher this time. Yifan closed his eyes. The sensation of drowning started to set in. Air was leaving him. The burn started its way through his lungs. Goddamn it, it hurt so bad. The cloth was then lifted after what felt like hours to him. Yifan quickly gasped for air before the process started again.

Yifan jolted up when he felt water splashing down his face.

“Ready for talking yet?” Min-ji asked.

Yifan laughed, “Already told you. I don’t know. There never were just one safe house.”

~6~

Yifan did not join the military back in China or the Complex in search for peace. And the palace had proven to be a battlefield of its own, capable of drawing blood and destroying lives. However vast it was, Yifan always felt suffocated being there, in such a hostile atmosphere of rage, mistrust and plotting. He never liked it there, not even the first time Junmyeon brought him there. A place where only if you were still of some use, you could stay for a while longer. A place where you had to constantly question everyone else’s move and decided your own, an endless game of chess that did not allow easy ways to drop out. Therefore, Yifan treasured the days at the Complex even more. At least, after work hour, he got released from its shackles. No such luxury at the palace, not even when staff retreated back to their own bedrooms. Its poison, like air, slipped through every crack.

It was crazy, feeling a part of the insane, unreal pressure that Junmyeon had to carry. He had quite a clean image with the people, at least those who supported the Queen, well-mannered and well-educated. For those who did not like him, he seemed aloof, condescending, two-faced and disconnected. And let Yifan not start on the politicians. Hell, it was like everybody was just waiting for him to slip to tear him into pieces. Apparently, outing the betrothal, which was supposed to be kept secret until he and Junmyeon got married, was a part of that. He was working as a collection officer, in charge of interrogation in the Agency when some tabloid writer broke the news about their relationship. The tip was leaked by one of Junmyeon’s staff. Needless to say, that person was fired. A new obstacle was added to Yifan’s list: the press. The betrothal was never made public so they, especially he himself, could get on with his work unaffected. Now, every detail in his life was digged and displayed for people to see, to scrutinize, to comment on. He became a live bait, a leverage for those who opposed the Queen’s administration. The most painful part was to see the person he loved most dearly, his mother, got dragged down along with him. Junmyeon was also dragged but at least he was used to that ever since a young age. The dead threats against him broke the record of that of the Queen accumulated in two decades in a matter of a day. His colleagues started looking at him weirdly, as if everything he tried so hard for was accomplished solely for being the Crown Prince’s fiancé.

The newest of the neverending storms was the accusation that he was addicted to amphetamine. To be clear, he was not, not even dependent on it. From an espionage officer’s point of view, it was totally normal, consuming prescribed amphetamine. Every single one of them, even Junmyeon, had been prescribed the drug once in a while for mission’s sake. Luckily, the director of the Complex stood out to clarify. He was promised that this whole debacle with the press regarding his relationship with the Crown Prince would not affect his progression in the Complex. Nevertheless, the road to Chief Liaison Officer was now paved with even more traps as opposition would become stronger. Coupling with the Queen’s appointment him being the sole investigator for moles within the Intelligence Agency after the outing, he felt he was about to crumble at any moment. The truth was, Yifan could handle, though rather passively, the politics but the press was driving him insane with their constant senseless poking.

Yifan lied on the kitchen floor of the Crown Prince’s chamber. After the news broke out, the Queen commanded him to move in from the Agency’s dormitory for security reason. The place’s renovation would be done soon so the kitchen would be a bit bigger, a separate building for staff would be erected and Yifan would not have to share office with Junmyeon anymore. It was not like he worked in Junmyeon’s office because of the nature of the materials from his work. He did not report to Junmyeon so he would not risk exposing any confidential information to him. He came to love this cozy space as it shut down the menacing forces of the outside world, trying to devour him and Junmyeon both. He downed quite an amount of alcohol and smoked some cigs, feeling his mind slowly becoming foggy. He was glad that Junmyeon neither smoked nor drank. It was good to have someone sober and stable between the two of them.

The sliding door to the chamber opened, Yifan heard that. It meant Junmyeon was home. He was going to call out for Yifan.

“Fan? I’m home.”

Here came the door closing. He would soon walk straight into the kitchen, expecting dinner, and found Yifan lying on the floor. Junmyeon paused at the threshold a little then stepped into the room. He quietly picked the bottle up and put it back in the fridge. He then fetched the broom and dustpan to clean the cigarettes. Yifan expected the usual “You shouldn’t be drinking-smoking” lecture but he did not get any.

“It’s cold on the floor. Come on, go take a bath. I’ll make dinner,” Junmyeon said softly.

Junmyeon’s calmness triggered the sudden rage in Yifan. Why the fuck did not flinch at all. “Am I just strategy?”

Junmyeon did not reply, so he pressed, “Why did you recommend me to your mom that day? I know you didn’t make that decision alone. Who were the examiners?”

They had this conversation before but not with Yifan being this unstable. Junmyeon did seek advice from the Queen’s director of strategy. He had to. It was part of being the Crown Prince. Yifan expected that Junmyeon would say “We talked about this” and then coaxed him to go take a bath again. Instead, Junmyeon sat down next to him on the floor.

“A lot of people give me advantages. I don’t love them all. As the heir to the throne, I can’t engage into relationships freely, whether romantic or non-romantic. So, I turned to mother’s strategist, Mr. Lee, for advice. He looked through your profile and saw potential and deliver my recommendation to my mother.”

It made Yifan feel bad, every time they fought. He lashed out while Junmyeon, god blessed him, remained oh so ever calm. Even water rippled but not Junmyeon. Yifan was angry at himself for being so childish, nowhere near the practiced serenity of the Prince. Fuck it, if lashing out was his privilege in this relationship, then so be it, he would lash out.

“I was not at the top of class. But you chose me. Why?”

“You’re trustworthy.”

“Yeah, codeword ‘loyal guard dog’.”

“You’re calculating but not cunning. You’re mature enough. You take pressure well. You have leadership qualities. You’re caring. You’re insightful. You’re loyal but can be defiant at the right time. You’re someone the public would like. That’s why …”

“The thing is, I feel fucking used. You and the fucking staff here tailored me into someone that would serve you well. Loyal, because mommy dear makes so many enemies, you wouldn’t want a shaky administration like the one she’s having right now. Chinese, because allies and diplomacy, symbol for the union between the two nations. Chief Liaison Officer because mommy needs good intelligence to secure her son’s place in the throne and having someone to do the dirty jobs, like killing potential enemies so her son would be as clean as a whistle. Non-royal - disposable, when I’m of no use I can simply be thrown away, no hassle. Good-looking enough, because the Prince has to show that he has some taste and needs a good fuck sometimes. Oh, after all, the Prince is not cold-hearted two-faced motherfucker, he’s capable of romantic relationships! To a non-royal! Modern motherfucking fairytale! And poof, their love is authentic because what kind of advantage can a non-royal give the administration? The opposition is howling for this piece of news but the people are blind by the “love” between the officer and the Crown Prince and it’s all that matters. I make you seem more human, make this world seems more human. The Queen gets another homerun on her progressive agenda.”

Yifan scoffed. They had this conversation before. He expressed his doubts and Junmyeon comforted him. But now, under all the stress, the doubts were burning him inside out.

“Don’t talk about my mother like that.” Junmyeon’s voice came out low. He was getting mad, Yifan could sense. The officer did not expect to be hauled up by his shirt lapel. “You don’t know what she’s been through. You only get an inkling of what I’ve been through. My mother had sacrificed so much so she can be where she is right now, to get this country to where it is right now. I’m not gonna let some foreigner ruining everything she’s built because he suddenly gets insecure.”

“So everything really was just an elaborate lie?” His voice came out like a croak.

Junmyeon shook his head. “You know what politics is like. Sure, there are lots of political reason to choose you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. After what we’ve been through, please, believe me when I say that I’m grateful I had you and that I love you. I mean those words as an oath, a commitment, not fleeting feeling that would fade one day.”

Yifan looked away. Junmyeon cupped his head and turned him back, “Look at me. This situation is new to you, I understand. You have never been under the microscope of the public, always in the background. It is exhausting. Handling the press makes everyone seem to be insincere towards you, that you’re being used, but you know that’s not the truth. I’ve never treated you like a tool to be used, have I? My mother cares about you. I care about you. I’m here, I’m not letting you take the bullets alone. We’re going get through this together, like we have always had.”

Yifan chuckled, “When will I be thrown away?”

Junmyeon shook his head again, bringing their forehead together, “You’re not a pawn, Yifan. Never was, never were, never will be. I know you’re not in your best shape right now. So come on, go take a bath. We’ll eat dinner. I’ll read you a story before you go to bed, okay?”

Yifan leaned over and kiss the Prince.

Yifan cried a little in the toilet. He handled the press before but the target was never him, or his mother, or father, or family. It was frustrating. He climbed into bed next to Junmyeon after he brushed his teeth. Junmyeon gave him some aspirin before so he felt better now.

“I’m sorry, Junmyeon. I was mad at you for no reason,” Yifan scratched his head, “So, I’m really sorry.”

They were still working on Yifan’s speech-making skills.

Junmyeon nodded, “You’ve been working two jobs at once, being my fiancé and an officer. It’s natural that’s you’re stressed. Do you want me to have the assistant schedule you a therapy session?”

Yifan nodded. “That’d be great.”

He lied down on his side, his back against Junmyeon. The Prince gently caressed his side and started reading. “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy by John le Carré. Chapter One. The truth is, if old Major Dover hadn’t dropped dead at Taunton races Jim would never have come to …”

~7~

The traitors tried water curing, denailing, and making him deepthroat the guys in the team but Yifan did not give in. So now they put him into solitary confinement, for punishment mostly. Yifan could rot in this cell and then they could summon him using the Ouija board but the answer would still be the same, Yifan did not know where the Queen and the Crown Prince were. Yifan was in charge of the staff but the Director of the Agency oversaw the building and they killed him, the only person who knew where the safe houses were. The traitors got so mad when he told them that, earning him an almost-jaw-dislocating punch to the face.

The cell Yifan was thrown in was really small. There was nothing in it but the floor. The chain from the wall restrained his left ankle. All of his activities were performed in that small space. The smell was hellish but he got used to it over time. The only source of light stimulation he got was from the slot on the door, where he got his meals. When it was open, light would shine into the cell for around five to ten seconds. That was also how he tracked time. Breakfast was delivered at 7, lunch at 12 and dinner 18. Every meal would be withdrawn after thirty minutes. Yifan was not sure if he tracked it right since in this solitary environment, he slept longer but it was  estimated that he had been isolated from the outside world for around ten weeks now.

Yifan found himself lucky to be able to know four languages. Mandarin alone had 370 thousands words, English added around 170 thousands, Korean added 500 thousands. He tried to recount every word to keep himself sane. He also found himself lucky that he went to military school. They are taught how to instigate and counter these kind of stuff there. He also tried to think of the things that made him happy: the look of pride his mom gave him the day he graduated, the Queen’s soft look when they ate dinner together, the way Junmyeon looked at him, always so full of joy and love, the laugh of his friends when they played basketball or went drinking together. He also resumed his investigation of the last figure of the organizers of the moles, building a whole mental memo board.

But being in the know that no one would come save him made the severe effects of the incarceration start to creep in. He honestly did not want to sleep because of the nightmares. Sometimes, he saw people he killed or interrogated chasing him and devouring him alive. Sometimes, he dreamed of getting lost from his mother in the crowd. One time, his mind took him back to the military school. He woke up to find everyone dead. Everything was in deadly silence. He tried to call out but there was no sound to his voice. Another time he dreamt of Junmyeon jailing him in a cell like this and used him for sex. Every time after a nightmare, he woke up screaming and crying. Screaming added the damage to his already wounded throat. He hallucinated sometimes, just the little things, light when there was none, weird shapes floating around in the air. However, Yifan knew they would get weirder over time. Sometimes when he was reciting words, he missed his mom so he curled into the fetal position and started crying uncontrollably. He could hardly eat anything lately because his throat hurt so badly.

One day, he woke up to very very bright light.

~8~

There was a ringing sound. Through his cloudy vision, he wondered what it was. He felt something was attached to his nose and his arm. His throat had stopped hurting badly, only a faint pain could be felt. But soon, he fell asleep again. The next time he woke up, he saw, amidst the blinding lights … Sooyeon? She was a doctor serving in the military hospital, a friend of him. Yifan furrowed. She was killed, too?

“Yifan, I want you to blink twice if you can hear me.”

Yifan did so.

“Good. Very good. You’re safe now. You’ll have people visit you soon.”

So he was still alive. Wu Yifan was still fucking alive. He felt like he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

The nurses updated on his situation for him when they came to clean him up. The traitors got hold of the army but not the reserve army. The Queen counterattacked the same way the coup happen, in surprise. Junmyeon directly orchestrated and joined an operation called Operation Libertas. This operation aimed to free those who had been captured by the traitors. When he heard that Junmyeon lifted him bridal style out of the prison, Yifan just blushed a little. Just a little. Shit, his Prince must have looked so cool. He regretted that he was in a coma so he could not witness that. Every personnel in the prison was killed on scene. In addition, they were waiting for Yifan’s intel so they could catch the last organizer. Yifan was currently being fed through tubes because his throat was wounded rather severely. His left ankle sprained. It would take around six months for his fingernails to grow back and 12 months for the toes. He also suffered multiple infections due to untreated wounds. Luckily, nothing was too severe. In a few more days, he would be unhooked from the painkillers.

The operation was very Junmyeon, Yifan thought. People, from the opposition to the ally of the administration both, usually perceived Junmyeon as spineless and weak, too kind for the world of politics. But, having the honor to be aside him longer than three years, (yes, the man renewed his staff every three years so they did not get to know him too well) Yifan knew that that line of thinking was at best, stupid, at worst, too simplistic. Junmyeon gave people the kind of impression that he was kind, caring, loving, wise and it was his every intention to stop people at that. Yifan knew Junmyeon was ambitious. He could be ruthless when the situation required. He controlled himself so well that it was hard to know how he was feeling. He also keened on the rational and the pragmatic. Oh, and he hated dishonest and betrayal above anything. The traitors had it coming, if Yifan had to be honest.

~9~

Yifan wanted to be hooked on painkillers again. His mind was clear now and so was the pain. It flooded all at once and overloaded Yifan with embarrassment and shame. He woke up from flashbacks of torture during the day to his mother and during the night to Junmyeon or Sehun. They all coaxed him back to calmness. Yifan insisted on testifying the moment he felt a bit better even though Junmyeon tried to talk him out of it. He wanted to get everything out, stopping the torture from prolonging. He was sent questions and he wrote everything he knew when he was fully sober from nightmares and flashbacks. He also disclosed the secret intelligence service of his own to Mr. Lee, the Queen’s strategist.

Yifan was writing his report when Junmyeon took his pen and paper away. “Bath time,” he said.

Junmyeon gently took off his glasses and hospital gown and started cleaning him up with a cloth with warm water.

“I went through the drafts of your reports,” Junmyeon said when he was smoothing over Yifan’s back, “We’ll talk about it when you’re well again. Just so you know.”

So he knew it already, Yifan thought, humiliation churning in his stomach.

“Oh, and you can have your job back after you healed.” Junmyeon said, wiping down his legs last.

The Prince put Yifan in a new gown. Next was dinner time. His throat hurt less but he could only eat liquid food for now. It was disgusting, the food, even after weeks of starvation. It was worse than what they served in the army.

“I almost forgot,” Junmyeon spoke up after Yifan finished his meal, pulling out a box from his satchel.

He opened it up for Yifan to see. The box was full of medals.

Junmyeon pointed to one, “Mother presented this to you while you were still in coma,” and continued to walk him through the shiny collection.

“All yours,” he said when getting to the last. “I can pin these on your army uniform for you or do you want these here instead?”

“Home,” Yifan wrote on the notepad and smiled at Junmyeon.

They watched the news in silence. Junmyeon turned the tv off at 9. He lowered the lights. Bed time.

“You want me to read a story?” The Prince asked.

Yifan shook his head. “A song, perhaps?” Junmyeon asked again. Yifan nodded this time.

Yifan relaxed against the bed, listening to Junmyeon sweet soft voice.

“In the white light stands a tall mountain. Though the sky is endless, you can still fly high. Looking at the vast blue sky, the heart trembles. Birds flying towards freedom are there, never looking back. Ride along the wind of hope with your wings of courage. And build your dreams there …”

~10~

Spring came and Yifan was healing well physically. Mentally, well, there was still a long way to go but he was prescribed medicine, arranged therapy sessions so he was getting better. Junmyeon wheelchaired him down the hospital’s garden on a fine spring day. The cherry blossoms were blooming. The flowers had all sorts of colors, from light pink to white to a deeper shade of pink. They watched the petals dancing in the wind in silence. Yifan loved this, loved the fact that he could enjoy things with Junmyeon in completely comfortable silence.

Yifan suddenly felt something heavy on his thighs so he looked down. It was a hardback photobook. Junmyeon gestured him to open it and he did. The book was full of photos of him. Junmyeon had a thing for photography. He hardly travelled without his camera. Yifan smiled, going page after page. He paused at the last page. There were no pictures there, just a handwritten question: “Will you marry me?”

Yifan felt a little burst of happiness inside him, but still, he wanted to tease Junmyeon, “I’m betrothed to you so you don’t have to do this you know?”

“So is that a yes or a no?”

Yifan leaned over and kissed Junmyeon. “Yes,” and he kissed the Prince again.

~11~

Yifan would love a private wedding ceremony but given who they were, that was just not plausible. When tomorrow came, he would carry another role as the Crown Prince consort. If he was asked what he learnt from last year debacle, it was that he had to step up his political game. That was the only way he could protect Junmyeon and himself. No more passivity. The coup was not his fault but it could have been prevented, if he had given more proactive advice to the Queen, rather than just giving her names. He had stood on the sideline, observed from the background for too long. The moment the clock struck twelve, Yifan would step into a new battle and he would welcome it, geared up and ready. He was putting on the cherry blossom cufflinks when he heard a knock on the door. It was Luhan, his best man.

“Ready when you are.”

Yifan nodded and stood up to leave the room.

Both he and Junmyeon had paid tribute to the ancestry this morning. Now would be the main wedding ceremony. He met his mom behind the door to the wedding hall. He hugged her tightly, “I love you, mom.” She caressed his back gently.

“Are you ready?”

Yifan nodded. Show time.

Luhan opened the door. Yifan stepped in the wedding hall and the flash from the reporters’ cameras were incessant. The ceremony was transmitted live. The wedding hall had an arena design. The ceremony would be performed in the center with attendants seated around. On the other side, he could see the Queen, Sehun - Junmyeon’s best man and his groom in the matching black military uniform with his walking into the hall. On the elevated platform in the center stood the judge. She was standing behind the podium on which their marriage certificate laid. Yifan and his mom stepped up the stairs. He then stepped forward and stood facing Junmyeon, holding each other hand.

“Thank you all for being here today.” The judge started, “Love is a commitment. The couple standing in front of you is a demonstration for that. They have been together for 12 years, ever since they were just young boys, reaching out for the world with full enthusiasm. They have been through uncountable ups and downs. The officer had to go to a foreign country at age 18, living apart from his mother whom he loves so dear with no friends, no knowledge of the language or culture. During those first few years full of hardships, it is the Crown Prince who was there, standing beside him, supporting him. The Prince gives him his full respect, admiration, trust and compassion. In return, he gives his Prince unshakable allegiance …”

Yifan tightened his grip.

“Having to choose between his own life and his homeland, his country, his Prince, he made the right choice instead of the easy one. He endured months of torture without giving in …”

Junmyeon smoothed Yifan’s knuckles, calming him down. Yifan inhaled and exhaled to the movements of Junmyeon’s fingers. They practiced this, it would be okay.

“The ceremony now begins.”

Yifan sighed in relief.

“Mr. Wu Yifan, please give your ring to Mr. Kim Junmyeon as a symbol of the unbreakable bond that binds you together for life.”

Yifan took the ring from the box Luhan was holding and slid it down Junmyeon’s finger, his eyes watering already. He looked up afterwards and saw that Junmyeon was the same.

“Mr. Kim Junmyeon, please give your ring to Mr. Wu Yifan as a symbol of the unbreakable bond that binds you together for life.”

After that, the judge told them to sign the marriage certificate. He took the pen and shakily signed his name as Junmyeon did the same.

“You are now married. You may kiss each other.”

Junmyeon smiled so brightly, held Yifan’s head and reached up to kiss him to the applause and cheer in the hall.

They held hands and walked out of the hall. There would be a parade from here to the restaurant where the afternoon party for the VIPs was held. They would make their vows their. The tea party would be for the press. Yifan could not wait for the evening party where only their friends would present.

~12~

The evening party ended around midnight. Yifan put on a white dress shirt and black pants after his bath and headed to the wedding room. The building they retreated to after the party had traditional design, all wood. It was on the other side of the palace, rather far from the Crown Prince chamber. He nodded to the servant who opened the door for him and stepped into the room.

The scent of the incense cones Junmyeon lighted up earlier filled Yifan’s nostrils. He took off his shoes and socks, then opened the red curtains separating the entrance with main part of the room and stepped in. The mattress was in the middle of the room, on the floor. The blanket was red with a pair of golden dragons embroidered upon it. At the two tops of the mattress were two lit high oil lamps. In the middle were two incense holders and a small box between them. Junmyeon was sitting on his heels, waiting for Yifan on the side. Yifan stepped to the mattress, opposite of Junmyeon, sat down and mirrored his stance. Then, they bowed to each other. Junmyeon lifted the blanket, revealing a towel underneath. Yifan took the cue and lay down.

“Can I turn the lamps off?” The Prince asked.

“You always sleep with the light on, though.”

“The moon shines brightly tonight.”

Yifan nodded and reached over his head to turned off the lamp on his side. The room’s only source of light now was the moonlight coming from the clerestory windows. Junmyeon slid next to him then.

“Alone, finally,” Yifan said and closed his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m knackered.”

They enjoyed each other’s warmth and the incense. After a while, they turned over to face each other. Junmyeon started to kiss Yifan’s hand, softly on the fingers first, then on the palm. Yifan caressed his cheeks, leaned close and placed a kiss Junmyeon on his lips, arousal coiling in his stomach. There was still a faint taste of wine on his tongue. He unbuttoned Junmyeon’s black shirt, reaching in to touch his skin. Junmyeon had his hand on Yifan’s side, caressing gently. The Prince then reached up to cup Yifan’s head, deepening the kiss and laying Yifan back on his back, situating between his legs. Yifan returned eagerly, having his hands on his neck. Junmyeon broke the kiss to swiftly take Yifan’s pants and boxers along with the unbuttoned shirt he was wearing off. Yifan had Junmyeon on his lips again. He nudged Junmyeon’s bottom lips with his and circled his arms around to hug him, smoothing his back.

Junmyeon moved to nip along his jawline, then kissed and licked Yifan’s ear. He continued kissing down Yifan’s neck. Yifan fondled his erection through his pants and Junmyeon let out tiny moans into Yifan’s neck. The Prince then quickly opened up Yifan’s shirt and kissed his collarbone, biting it gently. Yifan had his hand placing on Junmyeon’s head, pulling on his hair as he moved down further. The officer closed his eyes, giving in to the heightened sensations spreading all over his body. He moaned here and there at how they were amplified in the dark. He could feel Junmyeon peppering his inner thighs with kisses and bites now, hand caressing the other.

Yifan gently nudged Junmyeon towards his leaking cock. As soon as he gave it a lick from the the tip down, Yifan moved his hand to grip on Junmyeon’s shoulder, digging his nail into it. He groaned out when Junmyeon put him in, tongue circling the tip. He bucked up, hands back on Junmyeon’s head, pushing up as he silently signalled him to bob deeper. And Junmyeon did. When he could feel Junmyeon’s throat around the tip, he moaned breathlessly, gripping the Prince’s hair even harder. Junmyeon moved up and down, stroking Yifan’s cock where he could not reach with his mouth. They stayed like that until Yifan noticed the familiar sensation in his lower abdomen and he pulled Junmyeon up, crashing their lips together. He reached down to open the Prince’s file in a flash, sliding in to stroke his cock.

Junmyeon broke the kiss, “Get the lube, it’s inside the box.”

Yifan sat up immediately, fumbling a little in the dark to get what necessary out. He tossed it to the now naked Junmyeon and lay back down, spreading wide. Junmyeon got the first finger into him and leaned over to kiss Yifan again. Yifan moaned into their kiss, one hand stroking Junmyeon’s cock, the other roaming all over his ab. When he felt Yifan relaxing around him, Junmyeon added the second one, kissing down again, massaging Yifan’s inner thigh and hipbone with his free hand. Yifan cried out the moment his prostate was brushed over. Junmyeon, the teaser, now manifested. He deliberately skip Yifan’s sensitive spot, pushing deeper, making him groaned in frustration.

“Fuck you,” Yifan spat.

“The opposite, actually.”

Bastard, he could feel Junmyeon’s smirk behind his thigh. But then, a third finger was added, driving onto the spot and Yifan’s voice raised, whimpering and moaning. His back arched down to Junmyeon’s fingers. His mind went blank. He could focus on nothing but the sensation within him.

“Myeon, I’m gonna come,” Yifan had his hand on Junmyeon’s wrist to stop him. But to no avail.

The Prince kept pressing and Yifan spilled all over his stomach with a loud groan, shaking lightly at the aftershock. Junmyeon slowly and carefully pulled his hand out. Yifan pulled his hair up, smashing their lips together again. The heat in Yifan’s body did not die down, if anything, it burnt even more.

Junmyeon nipped Yifan’s bottom lip, “How do you want to be taken?”

Yifan opened his eyes. He kissed and pushed until they were sitting up right, taking off his shirt, tossing it on the side. He took the bottle of lube carelessly thrown on the mattress, poured some on his hand and stroked Junmyeon’s cock. Junmyeon closed his eyes, resting his head on Yifan’s shoulder, moaning quietly. Yifan stopped after a while, wiping his hand on the blanket and got on his knees, resting his head on the pillow. He could feel Junmyeon caressing his lower back, nudging the tip at his entrance. The Prince then gripped his lover’s hip and pushed in slowly. Yifan grunted in his throat at the initial burn.

Junmyeon covered Yifan’s back with his body, kissing the nape, shoulders, spine. He had one hand holding Yifan’s own on the sheet, the other circling around to touch his front. He moved it down to stroke Yifan and started to move when Yifan pushed back. Yifan moaned quietly, contently into the pillow. Soon, Yifan was hard again. He lifted his head and turned around to kiss Junmyeon. As the other man started pushing harder, Yifan had himself on his elbows. Junmyeon sat upright, pulling Yifan back to meet his thrusts now and then. After a while, Yifan felt Junmyeon slowing down and then stopped completely, pulling out gently. He whined lowly in his throat. The Prince had him on his back and pushed in again, lips on his. Yifan cupped Junmyeon’s ass, digging his fingers into the flesh or spanked him a little, then apologetically-not-so-sorry caressed the marks, all the while moaning tinily into their kiss. Yifan knew Junmyeon was close as he broke the kiss, gripped Yifan tight and moaned into his neck, his thrusts getting frantic. Junmyeon slowed down a bit to sit on his knees. He adjusted Yifan’s hips until Yifan told him where he got it right. Yifan moaned when Junmyeon started moving with short hard bursts, hips meeting his thighs hard. His hand went back to stroking Yifan and Yifan could feel his orgasm impending. They grunted together, gasping for air, moaning each other’s names. Yifan scrunched his eyes hard as he came, sending Junmyeon off a few seconds later, hips stuttering into him. Yifan’s entire body shuddered at the aftershocks.

Junmyeon collapsed against Yifan and Yifan stroked his head, his back. They stayed like that, breathing together. Junmyeon whispered sappy stuff into Yifan’s ear, had him smile. He pulled out after a while. They cleaned up quickly, got rid of the spoiled towel on the mattress and settled under the blanket. They delved in the comfortable silence of the night, bathing in the loving warmth of one another. Yifan hummed Moonlight Sonata and Junmyeon sneaked ever closer. They had a long day and for some reason, they could not find themselves to close their eyes as their affection and happiness kept dancing in their hearts.