Chapter Text
Ten has the keys to the old part of the ship, the part that they now use as a prison. He's had them for days, hidden under his belt, and no one has thought to search him. He has the keys, and he has the codes, and he definitely has the motive.
No one bids him much attention as he heads down towards the prison wing. Actually, that’s a lie. People give him attention, but not because they find him suspicious. They find him interesting, intriguing. They want to undress him. He licks his lips, sways his hips and pretends he doesn’t know what it does to the officers leaning against the wall as he passes them.
One of them wolf-whistles after he’s passed, and he stops still and turns back, eyebrows raised, but they all fall back, look around, whoever whistled too cowardly to confess. The Supreme Admiral is known for his jealousy, and the officers know that well, so they tend to stay out of his way— they look, but they keep their distance.
The Supreme Admiral’s jealousy has come in use many times since Ten joined his fleet, and then joined him in his bed. That’s how he has the keys to the prison wing, that’s why he hasn’t been searched on his way through the ship’s checkpoints, customary even for high-ranking officers.
Ten has timed his visit, of course— he acts as if his every move is impulse, but it’s calculated to the finest details. The afternoon guards clock off early on Thursdays, so they don’t miss the start of dinner. Thursdays are when meat is served, and the guards think with two things only: their dicks and their bellies, so the door is unguarded when Ten rounds the corner. He has four minutes to get through the door and into high security, but he only needs two.
His footsteps echo along the corridor of the prison wing. Ten is a man who knows what he wants, who he wants, and oh does he want Kun— wants Kun's teeth on his skin, Kun's hands between his legs. He wants Kun chained, and he wants Kun to want to be chained, for him at least.
Lucas watches him through the bulletproof glass as he walks by. Ten spares him just a glance— it would be mean, he thinks, to spend too long with any of his old crew, to give them false hope as to why he is here. Sicheng’s eyes are unfocused, his palms on the glass as Ten approaches. He looks like a caged animal. He is a caged animal. Ten feels pity for anyone who gets in his way when they come to escape. Hendery looks through him, Xiaojun too. They’re heavily drugged down here, kept drowsy and unlikely to come up with any tricks to escape.
That’s why Ten broke away. That’s why he isn’t here with them. They needed an insider, someone in the ranks, if they were ever going to be able to take the ship. Except, they didn’t take the ship, they were caught and they were chained and then it was all down to Ten to survive, to scheme, to release them.
He’s enjoying it. Most of it. He enjoys the excitement of being an imposter, and being good at it. He enjoys lying and getting things he wants, and he thrives on the power he’s gained from seducing the Supreme Admiral. Still, he’s looking forward to the day when all of this is over and he can unleash the chaos he’s truly made for.
Kun is leaning against the wall of his cell, watching Ten as he approaches. The rise and fall of his chest as he breathes shifts the chains he wears under his open shirt. Ten stops in front of him and Kun regards him, eyes him from head to toe. Finally, he sneers.
"It took you long enough, what’s it been? Five months?" His voice is muffled through the glass, but it still holds its distinctive accent and it still makes Ten’s pulse race.
"I'm not here to free you,” Ten says. It has been, in fact, almost six months since Kun and the rest of the crew were captured and thrown in the cells. It’s been almost nine months since Ten infiltrated the ships’ crew. “Not yet.”
"What?"
"I'm not here to free you. It isn't time. We can't—I can't guarantee it's safe just yet. They've ramped up security in sector six and the engines on the southern wing are being repaired, so there isn't a way through to the holding bay for escape." Ten doesn’t owe Kun this explanation, but he finds himself justifying things anyway. “It won’t be long, but… Not yet.”
"Then why the hell are you here?" Kun’s expression darkens further. It reminds Ten of the storms they used to travel together, before this attempt at a coup. He’s frustrated, he’s irritated, Ten can smell it, he can feel it, and god does it do things to Ten that nothing else can.
Ten bites down on his lip. "I thought you might want to see me, for old time's sake."
"I don't want to see you." Kun steps forward, his body against the glass. If he's been drugged, it hasn't had much effect on him. His eyes are clear, and they're sharp.“I want out of here.”
"It's not my fault you're all locked up down here. It's not my fault you got caught.” Ten is frustrated too. The coup had failed for a reason none of them could have planned for, or avoided. How was Ten to know that there'd be an echo-storm, how was he to know the loading bay doors would jam shut? He snaps back, "Don't be jealous that I still sleep up there, in a warm bed, and you sleep down here on the floor, chained like an animal."
Kun just smiles back at him. His eyes don’t soften. "Oh, I'm not jealous," he replies. He is, though. Ten can tell and it fills him with nerves and excitement.
“You should be.” Ten wants to see rage, he wants to see passion, he wants to feel like he used to. “But not of me. Of him.”
“I don’t think I need to be jealous of the Admiral.” Kun’s eyes are fire, but his voice is still steady. “Because there is no way he fucks you like I did.”
Ten wants to disagree, but he can’t bring himself to lie. He says nothing. Instead he tries to stand his ground, stare Kun down, but part of him just wants to drop to his knees right now and press his face to the glass where Kun's crotch is, to shove his hands into his trousers, fist his own cock and cry. Kun has aways made him want to lose control.
Kun’s smile is crueler now,but Ten likes it that way. “So that’s why you’re down here,” he says. “Because you miss the way we used to fuck.”
Ten keeps his eyes on Kun, refuses to back down, even as his mouth waters at the thought of touching his old lover. He likes the push and pull. He likes the way they fight, the way they always have done. They trade bitter words the way other couples trade love poems. “So what if it is?”
The fact of the matter is that Ten is used to silk sheets, now. But he’s also used to lying on his back and faking obscene noises and he’s used to imagining another mouth when he’s kissed. Sex is a weapon and it’s one he has long gotten bored of wielding on this damn ship. Luckily the Supreme Admiral is unimaginative and dull. He comes quickly and he sleeps like the dead, so Ten always has plenty of time to spend plotting in his quarters. Still, he needs some more time, he needs to know that the escape will be a success.
Ten has the keys and he knows the codes, and he wonders what it’ll be like to fuck on cold, hard, ground again.
“What are you waiting for, Ten?” Kun’s voice cuts through Ten’s thoughts. “Open the cell and get inside so I can remind you of the good times.”
His eyes are dark again. Ten's skin burns with anticipation. He's still so in love it's stupid, and he guesses Kun is too. Even after months of not seeing him, Ten can still remember how he tastes. He wants to taste it again.
Ten steps towards the keypad and deactivates the cell-door.