Warning(s): violence, cursing, abuse

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        “Yoochun,” Junsu cried. “Je suis désolée! I’m so sorry…”

        Thumbs swiping across Junsu’s cheeks to brush away the tears, Yoochun shook his head. “Non… Don’t be sorry…” he murmured, kissing Junsu’s cheeks.

        Heechul dragged Yoochun away from Junsu, positioning him in a luxurious chair, adorned with red leather and shiny golden buttons, pinning his wrists to the armrests with thick, metal rings around his wrists. Yunho had chained Junsu to the opposite wall, with the smaller man’s feet hanging off the ground and metal cuffs biting into Junsu’s wrists. Currently, the four were in the underground catacombs underneath the Eiffel Tower. How ironic that such a happy moment between the two lovers began on top of the Tower, and their most torturous moment would be stationed beneath the same monument.

        Beneath the city of Paris, the catacombs were dark, lit only by an antique oil lamp that Yunho had brought with them, but a flashlight was hooked onto his belt in case the oil in the lamp ran out. Cold, damp, and dirty, Yoochun and Junsu would rot in the dirt beneath the City of Lights, beneath the historic Eiffel Tower, trampled under the feet of unsuspecting civilians.

        “You know the punishment for failing a mission,” Heechul said to Yoochun, and the latter nodded meekly. “But, I’m going to make you suffer more than a usual failed mission.”

        Yoochun glanced up at Heechul’s amused face. “What do you mean?” he muttered.

        Heechul walked slowly around Yoochun’s chair, disappearing behind the man to search for something unknown to him. “Usually, Stealers get a quick death after excommunication, but you deliberately disobeyed me instead of only failing a mission. You defied my orders and broke two Stealer Codes. That, my dear Yoochun, deserves some more pain.”

        Yoochun couldn’t breathe anymore. He knew what was going to happen once he watched Heechul walk back into the dim firelight with a thick leather whip. Junsu’s eyes widened at the sight, unsure of whether the sting of the whip would taste the sweat on Yoochun’s back or the blood of Junsu’s body.

        “Please, no—“ Yoochun pleaded.

        Snap!

        Heechul lashed the whip in place, the loud crack ricocheting off the soil walls of the tombs and bouncing down the corridors of dirt. Junsu bit his lip, truly terrified of the power Heechul had now, completely dominating the two.

        Yunho stood by the side, hidden in the shadows. He, too, was frightened of Heechul, the authority he had and the power he held at his disposal. This wasn’t something Yunho would do, sitting by watching his best friend and his lover tortured to death. It was inhumane and cruel, but then again, he, Heechul, and Yoochun had no soul.

        “There’re few options you can choose from, Park,” Heechul offered. “Either you can steal Junsu’s soul yourself right now and you’ll only get some lashes or you can take all the punishment for Junsu and I’ll let him go free afterwards.”

        Yoochun’s mind turned, wondering which offer was better. Suddenly, Heechul snapped the whip against Junsu’s arm, a thick red line sweeping across the porcelain skin.

        “Stop! Stop!” Yoochun screamed, restlessly trying to break free of the restraints on his chair to no avail.

        Heechul cracked the whip again on Junsu’s skin, red staining his cheek this time.

        Tears were already rolling down Yoochun’s cheeks as the whip in Heechul’s hand struck against Junsu’s sides, ripping through his clothes. Blood dripped on the floor of the catacombs, the fresh smell making Yunho sick and Yoochun spill his tears.

        “Please! Heechul-ssi!! Please stop!!” Yoochun pleaded, unable to shield his eyes from the horrid sight of his lover panting in pain and covered in blood, the same shade of red of the roses in the gardens that symbolized passion and lust.

        Yunho winced at the loud scream Junsu forced out of his throat. He envied Yoochun, knowing that they’d had . The man’s voice was like an angel’s. To hear that voice scream his name in bed while he drove him past the point of sanity, Yunho was jealous that Yoochun got to experience that. But he also pitied the pair. Heechul was ruthless.

        “Heechul hyung,” Yunho said softly, daringly. “I think that’s enough…”

        “You think it’s enough?” Heechul spat. He tore off Junsu’s ruined shirt and tossed it aside, allowing the sharp edge of the whip to taste the skin on Junsu’s chest, his white skin weeping tears of red. The tortured man sobbed softly at every stinging lash, and Yoochun could only cry with him, regretting not having planned better than this, for not anticipating Heechul’s early arrival.

        “Heechul-ssi! Please stop!” Yoochun screamed again, attempting to get Heechul to stop.

        “Then answer the question!” the pretty man ordered. “Pick an offer, Park!”

        “I’ll take the lashings!” Yoochun yelled without thinking.

        Heechul turned to Yoochun and stepped forward. “Are you crazy, Park?” he growled, taking Yoochun’s face into one hand roughly, forcing him to stare straight at Junsu.

        “Take a good look at him,” Heechul demanded, pointing at Junsu. “He’s weak. He’s wasted! His soul is open, wounded. You should steal it now while you have the chance and live, continue doing what you do best—stealing souls. There’s nothing left of him.”

        Yoochun tried to shake his head, but Heechul kept his head still. Tears obscuring his view, Yoochun could barely see Junsu, the bloodied rag of his lover. “No… You’re wrong,” he rasped, swallowing, trying to stifle his tears. “Junsu… has so much potential. He’s a wonderful angel and he’s strong, persistent, and can take the world head-on. I believe in him. So that he lives and helps the world grow, I will die for my lover.”

        “Yoochun,” Junsu cried. “Please… No! Heechul-ssi! Please! Just take my soul and let Chunnie live! He doesn’t know what he’s saying!”

        “Ta gueule, salope!” Heechul snapped at Junsu. Turning back to Yoochun, he said softly, “Are you sure that this is what you want? To die for a man you’ve only known for—what? Two, three days?”

        “Oui,” Yoochun breathed. “With all my heart, I will die for Kim Junsu.”

        “Yoochun!” Junsu gasped, mortified. “Please—“

        “Get him out of here!” Heechul barked to Yunho, referring to Junsu.

        “No!” Junsu squealed, wiggling in his shackles as Yunho came towards him. Blood slipped down his arms as the cuffs chewed at the skin on his wrists.

        Yunho stopped Junsu’s squirming and hissed, “Stop moving! You need to get out of here.”

        “I don’t want to!” Junsu screamed. “Not without Yoochun!”

        Yunho unlocked one cuff and gripped Junsu’s wrist tightly. “Listen to me,” he growled. “Yoochun promised he’d find you again, didn’t he? Didn’t he?!”

        Junsu nodded slowly, large, innocent eyes boring guilt into Yunho’s soul—well, conscience.

        “Then believe in him,” he murmured. “Now we have to get you out of here.”

        Yunho unlocked the other shackle and helped Junsu down from the wall. Throwing a shirt over his head, Junsu glanced back at Yoochun.

        “Je t’aime, Yoochun!” Junsu yelled as he was dragged away by Yunho.

        “Je t’aime beaucoup, mon amour, m'ange!!!” he screamed back.

        A final sparkle of liquid trailed down Junsu’s cheek as only the oil lamp back where Yoochun and Heechul was left, a speck of yellow-orange in the dark tunnels. And the last sound to haunt Junsu’s ears was the deafening shriek of his lover’s pain and the sound of the harsh crack of the thick leather whip, soiled with Junsu’s precious blood, stained with the human essence and tainted onto a Stealer’s skin.

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        Furrowed eyebrows and furious eyes bore into Junsu's heart as he faced his twin upon the doorstep of their house, Yunho beside him to support his weak body. Junho didn't say anything, but let them into the house. As Yunho set Junsu on a chair in the dining room, Junho hurriedly found the first aid kit and began to tend to Junsu's whipped body. 

        A dead silence filled the house, with only Junsu's small whimpers when Junho applied antiseptic to his wounds echoing through the house. White bandages, pure as snow, were quickly tainted with red from the deep gashes once they were tied over Junsu's arms and torso. 

        "Go get some sleep," Junho ordered. 

        "Hyung—“

        "Just...!" Junho took a deep breath. "S’il vouz plaît, frère, go to your room." He sounded broken, almost about to cry, so Junsu padded across the wooden floor of the house and up the stairs to his room, shutting the other two men out of his worries for the time being.

        Junho plopped down into a chair Yunho had provided. He was shaken. So red was the blood that cried from Junsu's baby white skin; so painful it was to hear his little squeals of pain while he squirmed in discomfort. It was difficult to stifle his tears while administering the bandages to his little brother, but he managed to keep his eyes dry to see his work. 

        "He said he wouldn't hurt him," Junho muttered, head buried in his hands and finally letting the spring of tears well forth. 

        Yunho rubbed the man's back, sighing. "Yoochun didn't hurt Junsu," he answered. "Quite frankly, it is neither one of their faults that Junsu ended up this way. Yoochun has the worse end in physical pain, but Junsu has the emotional scarring. It's neither of their faults but fate's own cruel game to toy with two boys and their love for each other. I think Heechul quite enjoyed being sadistic for a day."

        Junho exhaled heavily and shakily, breathing out his anger and frustration. "I'm going to kill that son of a ," he growled.

        "Which one?" Yunho asked snidely.

        "Both!" Junho screamed. "Yoochun promised not to hurt Junsu! Look what happened!"

        Yunho opened his mouth to say something, but Junho cut him off. "That fils de salope lied! And he probably knew about this, too, n’est-ce pas?! If I ever see that batard again, I will rip his head off!! Baise… Soul Stealers always lie. Hyukjae said he'd never leave us and he did, and we haven't heard anything from him since! And now this Park Yoochun?! I could tell he was a Stealer by the way he walked, all high and mighty because he can do supernatural ."

        Yunho tried to speak again, but this time he was interrupted by Junsu who'd come downstairs hearing all the noise.

        "Don't you dare talk about Chunnie like that!" Junsu yelled. "He's caring and sweet; you don't know anything about him, Junho!!"

        Junho glared coldly at Junsu. "I know he hurt you. Look! Look at all these cuts!" Junho poked at Junsu's arms and the younger reeled away slightly. "What cuts like this?! A whip, Junsu!! A whip!! Merde! He's ing abusive!"

        "It wasn't Yoochun!" he shouted, slapping Junho's hand. "It was Heechul! My soul was supposed to be stolen by Yoochun but he didn't do it! Heechul found out and punished us. He gave Yoochun two choices: to steal my soul or to take the lashing from me to him. He did the latter, Junho! He saved me! And now he's going to rot under Paris!"

        Junho bit his lip and suddenly hugged his younger twin tightly, crying into Junsu's hair. "I promised... Umma... Appa... You'd never get hurt..." he wailed. "I'm a terrible hyung..."

        "Non!" Junsu said, hugging Junho back. "You're a wonderful hyung! You allowed me to meet Yoochun."

        Junho stepped back a bit and wiped his eyes. "Amongst all that Stealer air that kid had around him," he said truthfully, "I could feel the sincerity he had. I could hear the love in his voice and the desperation when he asked for Kim Junsu. The way his voice became all soft and husky, almost biting his tongue, like he wasn't worthy to say your name, Junsu-ah..." Junho rubbed Junsu's hair. "I don't regret sending him to you, mon frère petit." 

        Junsu smiled and hugged Junho. Yunho grinned, and in the midst of their brotherly embrace, the Stealer took his leave to see how Heechul had handled Yoochun. 

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        "You brought this upon yourself, Park!" Heechul yelled, pushing Yoochun against the chair so that his back faced Heechul. 

        His arms and legs were weak and shaking, blood and dirt sticking to his pale skin. His shirt had been torn and destroyed, cast aside in the dark tunnels. Panting and sweating, an odd combination of heat radiating from his body and the chilly catacomb air left Yoochun shivering and frail under Heechul's merciless whip.

        The leather, having already at Junsu's skin, descended upon Yoochun's back to scrape the last of his wits from the plate of despair. Yunho, having no power to override Heechul, stood by helplessly, watching his best friend and fellow Soul Stealer writhe under Heechul's power and thick whip, wrapping Yoochun in a velvet red ribbon of blood and pain; and scream above the deafening echo of leather against skin, leather against muscle, leather against bone, the leather that was soaked in the precious red blood of the human and the Stealer, mixing the sweat and blood of the two lovers onto one surface. 

        Yoochun was awoken abruptly from his nightmare, Yunho towering over his sweating body wrapped in dozens of blankets. It'd been a dream, a memory of that horrid day underneath that beautiful city. How Yoochun got back into Korea without his knowledge and without anyone wondering why he was a bloody mess was unknown to him.

        Yunho placed a hand on Yoochun's forehead and swiped his bangs off of his sweaty head. "Still dreaming about that day?" he asked.

        "Not dreaming," Yoochun muttered, sliding out from underneath all the blankets and glaring down at his arms where white scars never healed, but now reopened and dripping, his fingernails also tainted with the red substance. "Reliving it..."

        Yunho put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You need to stop living in the past, Yoochun," he muttered.

        Yoochun just nodded and took up the fresh bandages by his bed that he had placed there the night before, knowing he'd need them in the morning. Whether Heechul knew about his current condition or not wasn't Yoochun's problem. 

        "Come on," Yunho said, handing Yoochun a shirt as he finished wrapping the white gauze around his arms. "Heechul wants us down stairs."

        "Why?" he asked, sliding his arms gingerly into the white button-up shirt. 

        Yunho fixed the collar as Yoochun buttoned his shirt and said, "He said it was a surprise for you."

        "Oh, like the surprise he gave me in Paris?" he answered bitterly, grim sarcasm dripping off his tongue. Yunho almost winced at the malice in his voice. “Conneries.”

        They raced down the stairs, nearly tripping each other, but Yoochun's injuries reminded them that they had to be a bit careful. The pair found Heechul in the living room with a man, both of their backs to Yunho and Yoochun. Upon hearing the hushed footsteps of the two Stealers, Heechul turned around but the other man stayed still.

        Standing, Heechul grinned widely. "Yoochun!" he exclaimed. "For being so well behaved these past... How long has it been?"

        "Four years and six months," he growled, glaring coldly at Heechul, but the tall man with authority ignored that hostile gaze and padded to the opposite side of the couch. 

        "I'm sure you'll like this surprise much more than my last one," he said grinning. He gestured to the seated figure that stood but did not reveal his face. "Welcome our new Stealer.”

        The unknown figure turned around finally and Yoochun's jaw dropped. Yunho's eyes widened, staring between Heechul and Yoochun. 

        "Bonjour... Chunnie," Junsu said softly, folding his hands cutely in front of him and bowing slightly. 

        The unblemished skin before Yoochun excited him. Same were those wide, brown, innocent yet erted doe eyes. Hair now black and cut slightly shorter, but it hadn't lost its shimmering sheen of softness. Cheeks as rosy as before Yoochun raced forward and trapped the newcomer in his arms, kissing those pink cheeks and plump candy lips breathless, but what was air when Junsu was there?

        Yoochun cupped Junsu's face in his hands, fitting perfectly within his calluses palms. "It's really you," he murmured.

        "Oui," Junsu breathed. "I found a way to you, Chunnie. Je t'aime..."

        Yoochun bruised those full red lips with his own with enough passion to rival the pain he'd felt over the past four years. "Je t'aime aussi, Junsu. Je t'aime beaucoup, mon amour... M'ange..."

        Heechul grinned, nudging Yunho in the ribs. "See?" he said softly. "I'm not all evil."

        Yunho just smiled and playfully hit Heechul back. “D’accord… D’accord…” he said softly, the one of the only French words he managed to learn.

        Out of all of the Soul Stealers, Yoochun and Junsu, so far, had probably become one of the few happy couple.

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Je suis désolée = I’m sorry                                                                      n’est-ce pas = is it not
Non, Oui = no, yes                                                                 fils de salope = son of a
Ta gueule, salope = Shut up, !                                                       S’il vouz plaît, frère = please (formal), brother                      
Aussi = also                                            Je t’aime beaucoup, mon amour, m'ange = I love you very much, my love, my angel
mon frère petit = my little brother                                         D’accord = Of course
Bonjour = Hello (formal)                                         Umma... Appa... = Mom... Dad… [Korean]
batard = bastard                     Baise  =                           Merde =            Conneries = bull