Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

(4 years ago)

The noise of this godforsaken inn makes Seonghwa's head hurt even before he steps over its threshold. Every face in the establishment turns towards him and his men—the silent scene follows next, almost too fragile to be true, until the pirates realize who this man is and rise from their seats, grabbing their weapons. The Officer sighs at their bullheaded stupidity.

"Hand us your captain, and I promise that the Governor will keep your heads intact," Seonghwa suggests, but his last words get muffled by the sudden outcries of enraged pirates running his way.

It always ends like that. Every time he tries to be lenient and give these people a chance, but every time they reject his generous offers, thinking that they can force it their way. The cacophony of a dozen blades dancing in the air deafens him for a second as his men react instantly, entertaining each of the scoundrels who dared to raise their swords in the faces of the renowned Royal Fleet Officers and the Head of the Marine Guard of the Pool himself. Seonghwa's face is unfazed when he assesses the hall of the inn, calculating its layout and figuring where the wanted man may be right now. It is as if gods themselves have heard his pleas, as the much-desired one-eyed muzzle steps out from the door that was hidden behind a black screen in the back of the inn.

The captain's expression is hard to read—probably due to his eye patch that covers a good half of his face—but as soon as he locks his eye with Seonghwa, his lips form a pleased smirk. He unsheaths his sword the next second, helping his crew members fight off the guards despite knowing that they probably came for him exclusively. Had he fled the establishment that very moment, they would have probably followed him and left the crew be, but, let's be honest, one pirate—no matter how lucky he is—will not survive in a battle against a dozen guards.

Smart ass.

Seonghwa makes a grip on his sword tighter when he proceeds through the inn straight to his objective. The swordswork of this man is praiseworthy: he easily leaves one of the guards in shambles, knocking the weapon out of his hands and pushing him straight onto the table, which breaks in half under his weight and buries the guard in the splendor of various refreshments. The small blond boy who was fighting with this guard before smiles brightly at his captain and bows to him with his head alone, but to Seonghwa, there is nothing cute in this scene: one of his men got hurt so easily because of this outlaw, and he can't just leave it like that.

The moment he appears behind the pirate's back—the moment when the blond boy's eyes widen and his lips barely form a hasty "Behind you!"—the world slows down. He notices how the captain's back tenses, how his blade glistens in the persistent sun rays that flood the inn through the dirty windows, and then... Only blinding flashes remain before his eyes, followed by a stinging sensation on his chest.

The time stops entirely around them when Seonghwa looks down at himself and sees his shirt cut into pieces, his skin bleeding in the places where the blade cut through the fabric. He would applaud the man for his incredible skills had he not basically humiliated him in front of his whole team with such a straightforward gesture. The pirate stills as well, biting his tongue and scrunching his nose.

"Please, accept my sincere apologies. I never meant to hurt you, Officer," he bowed slightly and added with a smile: "Just hated that shirt of yours."

"Don't bother," Seonghwa bites back. "Because I intended to hurt you tonight."

"Oh, let's hope that won't happen then."

This time, when Seonghwa knows what to expect, he blocks the attack immediately. Evidently, the pirate was holding himself back when fighting before, but with him, he decided to show his real, unrestrained abilities, and oh, did they make Seonghwa intrigued! It is understandable that any common pirate would have a much better fighting experience than most of the guards who spend their days on the land, leisurely patrolling the streets from time to time, but to what extent? How many battles did this man have to go through to reach that level of mastery?

This fight resembles a dance; a wild pasodoble where an agile and skillful matador tries to reason with an enraged bull. Or does he? It seems to Seonghwa that this man tries particularly hard to drive him even more insane than he already is, running around him and making the Officer's head spin instead of taking a fight properly. When he already feels sick to his stomach from their never ending battle, Seonghwa swings his sword powerfully around the opponent's blade, hitting it with all his might and making it fall to the ground with a loud thud.

"Oops," the pirate smiles sheepishly, hugging his injured arm. "Guess I'm at a disadvantage now... YEOSANG, NOW!"

The blond boy swishes his sword in an attempt to slash the Officer's back, but luckily, Seonghwa turns just in time to meet his attack with his sheath. Dirty trick. But, well, what was he expecting from pirates? Even if the boy is not as skilled, he is certainly a distraction that will win his captain some time, so the main outlaw rushes into his room the very second the Officer gets occupied with his crewmate.

"He is in the back room! Follow him!" Seonghwa orders, kicking the boy right in the stomach and watching as he slides down the wall, unconscious.

A couple of his men run towards the room, so their opponents turn their attention to Seonghwa, making him lose more of his precious time. But... it's practice, right? Yes, let's call it like that. He doesn't waste anything. His boys will take care of it.

When he reaches the room, he is already exhausted because of the noncompliant criminals, but his determination is unwavering. His boys managed to almost corner the pirate, but the vile fire in his eye told Seonghwa that he still had aces up his sleeve, and he couldn't let that happen that easily. He sees the huge hook on the ceiling, right above his head, which is probably used as a prop for some performances, and contemplates whether it will be able to hold his weight.

Ugh, to hell with it. He has only one chance.

He jumps up and grabs the hook with his hands, the amplitude setting the mechanism in motion and bringing him right to the opposite wall where his target stands, oblivious to the surprise that will hit him in just a few seconds. 

"Get back!" Seonghwa screams, and his guards jump away instantly. The pirate, in turn, gets so overwhelmed when he turns his head that he stays glued to his spot just a second more than he should’ve, letting the Officer land straight on his shoulders and pin him to the floor with all his weight afterwards.

This crunch that he heard better be the sound of the wooden tiles and not this man's ribs, or he may kick the bucket even before his execution takes place.

Seonghwa ignores the pain in his ass due to an unlucky landing and quickly readjusts his limbs, blocking the pirate's arms with his shins and placing a sword at his neck.

"Three against one. That's a bit unfair," the disheveled man looks up at Seonghwa, carefully studying him with his right eye—the one that is not covered by an eye patch—and huffs lightly. His smile looks satisfied for some reason. "I guess it doesn't feel too bad to lose like that. It's a pity, though, that this fight was so short."

"If it isn't the notorious Pirate King himself," the gray-haired man completely ignores his words and only makes a grip on his sword tighter. "You have the last wish, Kim Hongjoong? I'm afraid no one will cater to your needs in the prison cell."

"What I wish for, huh?" the pirate smirks before swallowing a lump in his throat; the sharp blade grazes his Adam's apple. He never breaks eye contact with the Officer, only nods at the table and asks quietly: "May I have my last shot, Officer? I'm feeling a bit thirsty all of a sudden."

"Quenching thirst with liquor... How dumb," Seonghwa comments but still extends his left arm towards the small powney filled with dark alcohol to the brim and brings it to the pirate's lips, holding his chin up with one finger so as not to spill a drink.

The alcohol burns his throat and mouth, but this feeling somehow sobers him up, making him get back to reality faster. When the last drop escapes his mouth and travels down his lips and chin, he licks it up immediately, meeting the leather of the Officer's gloves with his tongue, and the sensation of it scorches him harder than the drink itself.

"I agree, Officer. I'm still thirsty," he mumbles under his breath and adds: "But I guess nothing can be done; I have wasted my last wish already. What are you going to do to me? Will you chain me up and take me to your cold dungeon now?"

"Dungeon?" Seonghwa repeats. "Oh, dear, I'm afraid they will not calm down until they see you headless."

"Oh... I will not look cute headless. It's my best decoration after all," Hongjoong pouts. "May I ask the Officer to be gentle with me?"

Seonghwa scoffs.

"It's not me who you need to be bargaining with. However, I suppose that nothing will be able to save your head anyway."

***

He is lucky to have Yunho in his life. It may be the peculiarity of his job, but Seonghwa comes off as quite a bold and cold type. He can easily pave the way with his power alone, but such a tactic works only on the battlefield. In real life, the almighty Fleet Officer needs someone more down to earth to carry on with mundane chores.

"Sir, what about this one?" the dark-haired young man asks with a smile, poking his finger in the direction of the tenth shoppe they passed this day.

Seonghwa purses his lips in displeasure. 

"No, I don't want any adornments on it."

"But it's a fashion statement!"

"It's a fashion catastrophe, Yunho," the Officer shakes his head. "The simpler, the better. A classic silk one will do. No frills, no strings, no extra fabric. I should be able to easily concentrate on my work when I wear it, not think about the looks."

The shirt, yes. That pirate bastard tore it to tatters with his blade, leaving Seonghwa with an incomplete set of his uniform. Of course, as a guard, he was fully provided with clothing according to the country's standards, but the very second that new hemp shirt touched his skin, he felt a rash spreading through his whole body like a forest fire. He needed a new, nice piece as soon as possible, or he would lose his mind.

"Have you found it, sir?" Yunho asks out of context, his voice suddenly quieter than usual. "The thing that that pirate was meant to have."

"I did not," Seonghwa exhales warily, his fingers running through the chrome silver of his pomaded hair. "The intel was incorrect after all."

"So... what will you do next?"

"I suppose I should take a leave for a while and just go for it anyway."

Yunho stops in the middle of the street, completely shocked by a sudden, crazy revelation that he has just heard.

"Just go?!" he screams, attracting the attention of the passers-by. Seonghwa shushes him immediately. "But, sir, it's very dangerous! You don't have any idea where exactly the objective is situated. Besides, even if you are an experienced marine, traveling alone is unheard of!"

Seonghwa smiles after hearing his small tirade; it is unusual for him to feel like someone cares for him. The Officer turns into one of the alleys, where he sees a particularly civilized shoppe with almost no crowd around.

"Have I ever said that I would go alone? Naturally, I will find the crew first," Seonghwa assures his subordinate.

Yunho immediately strengthened his back.

"I will follow you, sir! Please, let me help you in your quest. It is only thanks to you that I could become a guard, despite being from a lower class. I want to return the favor. I— I will even help you search for the crew; there're some people I already have in mind."

"Alright," Seonghwa smiles. "I don't think I will find a better Boatswain than you. I trust your judgment, Yunho. But... wouldn't it be too easy for you to return the favor like that?"

"Easy, huh?" Yunho doubts, but slowly realizes: "You have received some other piece of intel, sir?"

"Hm... You may call it so."

The thin dress shirt, a perfect shade of white that will compliment his skin tone just right, catches his eye, and Seonghwa decides to take off his gloves and hang them on his belt to feel the fabric with his fingers. The silky material is soft and light, which will suit him well, and the price of it doesn't even faze him when he realizes that soon he will be able to finally breathe properly with no rash distracting him.

He raises his eyes, and his gaze stills on the tailored white coat that hangs on the opposite wall, its waistline accentuated with a black corset. Simple. Comfortable. Strict. Even somehow unusually attrac—

Seonghwa can't even finish his thoughts when he feels a sudden blow of wind that is followed by the sound of someone running. He looks down and notices that his gloves are gone, lost in the grip of a skinny boy who runs away into the next alley, hoping that the man won't follow him.

"The audacity!" growls the Officer and immediately follows the thief.

The chase is short; Seonghwa's long legs let him catch up with the boy in a few minutes. He kicks the outlaw in the rear, making him fall and kiss the ground. The Officer turns him on his back forcefully, tugging at his gloves in the boy's hand, but meets a sudden resistance: the thief has an iron grip and doesn't want to let go of his loot that easily. So Seonghwa unclasps his fingers, which makes him fall down again and hit his head painfully, and instead steps on his chest, beating all the air out of his lungs and pinning him to the ground.

"You have something that is mine, kiddo."

The thief only scrunches his nose in pain and opens his mouth in a silent plea to let go. His face is bony with prominent cheekbones and hollow cheeks, and the dark, raven hair that falls on his forehead bears a single stroke of light silver on his left side. The boy, barely of age, is clearly malnourished and poor; even his hair is already turning gray from the life he lingers on. Too pitiful even for a thief...

Seonghwa unsheaths his sword, and the boy tries to crawl back to avoid the attack, but the Officer never lets him retreat. The tip of the blade almost touches his chin when it gets caught by another pair of hands.

"Sir, please, don't hurt him!"

The voice belongs to a different boy who has just hidden the thief behind his back and has been trying to get ahold of a sharp blade in his palms. This one looked much more presentable, with flashy clothes and colorful makeup that emphasized his big chocolate eyes. Seonghwa would think that he was a young master of some wealthy family, wasting his adolescence in drinks, dancing, and the company of the most beautiful escorts of the town, but he wasn't blind. The boy's outerwear was tidy but clearly worn-out, the hemline of it was threadbare, with the print losing its initial colors. His hands were callous and dry, and the sweat-covered skin was nicely sun-kissed, shattering all the initial "affluent" allegations.

These two probably work together. The thief and the con artist. He has to be careful. But first...

"Give my gloves back," Seonghwa orders.

As soon as he pronounces these words, his eyes light up, the gleams of silver lingering on his irises for a mere second and disappearing quickly, followed by the boy's silent offering of his accessory. The thief's eyes look terrified; he stares at his hand in disbelief, as if it acted on its own accord, fully complying with the Officer's request. The other boy seems to notice his shock too, but when he turns his head towards Seonghwa, he finds only a satisfied smirk on his face. Yunho finally catches up with them, and the presence of another man gives the boy sudden confidence. 

"Sir, there must have been some misunderstanding," he starts again. "He never meant to steal anything from you."

"He snatched it from my belt, didn't he?" Seonghwa hides his sword in the sheath, cleans his gloves from the dust, and puts them on. "Quite a bold move for a misunderstanding."

"Officer, I'm afraid they are right," Yunho coughs, trying to catch his breath. He swallows a lump in his throat and adds: "I saw him pick up something from the ground before you ran away. I suppose he thought someone discarded them..."

From... the ground?

Seonghwa was too immersed in his own thoughts to notice whether his things had indeed ended up on the floor. Could it be that these two really did not mean any harm?..

The Officer steps back, pursing his lips, and the "wealthy kid" immediately helps his friend sit up while dusting off his clothes.

"Why would anyone even take stuff from the ground?" Seonghwa mumbled to himself, but the skinny boy heard him anyway.

"I thought I could sell them. They... looked expensive."

"To sell an old cloth?" The Officer's eyebrows rise in shock. He tsks at them contemptuously. "If you want money, you have to work for it. Didn't your parents teach you that?"

The second boy's eyes light up with frustration for a second, but he quickly lowers his gaze so as not to offend the man by accident.

"We don't have parents, sir. But it's not like we don't have a job either," he answers through his teeth. Seonghwa must've hurt his pride with his comment.

Yunho bats his eyelashes a couple of times, coming closer to the pair of "con artists", and suddenly gasps.

"Sir, I've seen this boy before. It must be Young, the street performer! Wow, he is the talk of the town nowadays!" the guard seems to be extremely excited, as if he saw the King himself. "Young" only smiles back sheepishly, bowing slightly.

"Young"—what a cliché of a stage name... Calling yourself a "dragon" while looking like this is either a rather bold bluff or a pathetic joke. But then again, it may be just a part of his real name, or the hanja may stand for a whole different thing, so Seonghwa shouldn't get angry at him just for having the audacity to call himself like that.

"And what does he do? Con-tricks?" Seonghwa raises his eyebrow. In turn, "Young" keeps his eyes down, deciding not to provoke the angry guard even more.

"Sir, have you not seen his shows? The tightrope walking, the acrobatics, the juggling, even the fire eating—he can do it all."

The happiness in Yunho's eyes is so sincere that anyone can conclude that it's probably the best day of his life. Are these performers so popular nowadays? Is that how youth like to spend their free time? Of course, Seonghwa wouldn't know, being too lost in his training and administrative work.

"Are the shows not doing well these days? Why would you resell another man's belongings for a living?" the Officer asks with irony in his voice.

"Make hay while the sun shines," the performer concludes philosophically.

"So, are you saying that you are searching for some other job at the moment?" Yunho asks carefully and turns to the Officer, his expression suddenly exceptionally thrilled. "Because I have a job offer that you wouldn't be able to refuse."

"I refuse," Young answers straight away.

Seonghwa, who immediately understood his subordinate's intention and was firmly against this idea, got offended by such a quick response.

"You don't want a real job?" the Officer inquires.

"No," the boy bows politely.

"Why is that?" Seonghwa clenches his jaw. Is this kid trying to offend him with his refusal?

"Last time they asked me that I ended up on my knees in front of some oldfart, who San"—he nods at the boy behind him—"had to beat up for me. I can't injure my arms, or I will do badly during the performance."

Both guards freeze in their spots, trying to digest the information. Yes, the life of an orphan is rarely an easy one, but to hear such details with your own ears is more unsettling than casually discussing some juicy rumors with a cup of liquor in the hand.

Seonghwa clears his throat to attract attention.

"But you still put yourself in front of my sword without thinking just minutes ago," he reminded. The performer bit his lip, staring at his palms, which thankfully did not have any signs of cuts on them. "I suppose I should apologize for being so hot-tempered. I would never intend to hurt any of you, but when you appeared out of the blue, I could've injured you without realizing it. Let's forget about this incident."

The boy nods in turn, and Seonghwa adds indignantly, "And, by the way, how could you even assume such things about me? I'm a Royal Guard! Such a noble person would never stoop so low."

Both of the boys tsk in unison, as if they were in the exact same situation before.

"You will be surprised to know how much the power erodes the human soul, Officer," smiles the performer bitterly.

"Nah, Officer Park is not like that; don't worry about that," Yunho assures him and jokes, "I mean, the only time he will need you on your knees is when you will be scrubbing his deck clean."

Young bats his eyelashes, perplexed.

"Scrubbing your dick clean?"

"Deck. On a ship," explains Seonghwa, massaging his glabella in irritation. "Yunho, why are we even continuing this dialogue? It was a bad idea from the start. They probably can't even read or write; how would they serve on my ship?"

"Hey, did you just call us stupid?" San raises his voice, making some of the townspeople lean from their windows to witness the entertaining scene in their alley.

"Shut your mouth, puppy!" Seonghwa barks at him instantly. They already attracted way too much attention for his liking. "Didn't know you had such a loud voice. And quite sharp eyes for details as well, if you fell for my gloves. Hmm, maybe I could hire you after all, as a lookout for my crow's nest. Are you scared of heights?"

"How much do you pay?" licks his lips San, clearly nervous. Yunho smiles shortly and comes up to him, whispering something in his ear. Judging by how the boy's eyes became rounder and bigger, the wage was more than acceptable.

"We agree," nods Young. "But I still need to find some suitable gloves for myself. I'm afraid I will hurt my hands on your ship and won't be able to sustain myself anymore when our agreement comes to an end."

It was easy. Way too easy, actually, but a sudden idea revived Seonghwa's spirits, making him smile with anticipation. He realizes that he knows exactly who he wants on his ship.

"Not a problem," he answers. "I will provide you with anything needed. And... I have a pretty big collection of gloves, so I will give you the most expensive pair out of it as an apology."

Two pairs of eyes look at him with confusion, but he never grants them another glance. Instead, he leaves all the boring negotiations and explanations to Yunho and leaves the market with confident steps.

Yes, this person. Bingo. He will bring Seonghwa exactly where he wants to be.

***

The air here is especially humid. Seonghwa feels his lungs fill up with horrid smells of rot, fungi, and filth. This place smells like death. Like a cold breath of the recurring nightmare that clings to you with all its might, never letting its iron claws unclasp and set you free from its clutches.

Its residents are dead already. They still breathe only because they can't break this habit. Although some of them try to.

"What a lucky man," the prisoner says, his lips forming a sly smile when he sees the shadow of his visitor. "You must have heard that my cellmate joined the majority just an hour ago. Took my clothes without permission when I was sleeping, made a nice tight rope out of them, and threw it over his neck. Must be a pleasant feeling: being able to take full control of your life. He died anyway, but it was on his terms."

"Do you envy him?" Seonghwa raises his eyebrow.

The man behind the bars huffs ambiguously. He straightens one of his legs while sitting on the dirty floor and looks the figure of the guard up and down before his lips curl upwards.

"I like your corset, Officer. Looks much better on you than that plain shirt of yours. I must've ruined it for good that day."

He never answered his question. Such an easy one, and yet this man denied him his curiosity anyway.

But Seonghwa still bites his cheek at such a plain attempt at compliment.

"Didn't know pirates cared about fashion."

"Huh, can't pirates have hobbies? It gets quite boring sometimes when you get lost in the sea, so we gotta find something to do to pass time," the outlaw laughs and fixes his eye patch. His right eye never leaves the guard's body, as if he carefully mulls over something in his head. "Do you want some advice, Officer? That leather of your gloves should be paired with something. If I were you, my next tailored uniform would include a leather corset instead of a fabric one. It will be more thick and tough as well and will hug your waist just right, giving it extra protection."

The last thing Seonghwa expected from this meeting was a fashion lesson from a pirate. Kim Hongjoong is a peculiar fellow—a strange one, but extremely intriguing.

"Thank you for your valuable opinion," the guard answers indifferently. "Now, I have an offer for you."

"An offer?" the man inquires, his voice full of irony.

"You are free to refuse, of course," nods Seonghwa. "There is a ship that lacks a talented captain. I will help you escape the guillotine if you lend me your hand with the small journey of mine."

"Why would a renowned Fleet Officer ask for something like that of a filthy sea wolf, like me?" The pirate's voice is calm and quiet, and it almost sounds uninterested, as if he already knows the answer, just wants the guard to verbalize it.

"Because pirates don't ask questions."

Hongjoong smiles so brightly that he almost resembles a little, carefree boy for a second. He raises his arm in the air as if he wants to make a toast and bows his head lightly.

"It will be my pleasure to lend you my hand, Officer," he answers and nods at Seonghwa. "Will I get that sexy uniform of yours too?"

"I'm afraid you won't," the Officer huffs.

The pirate pouts for a second as he rises to his feet and comes closer to the gate, leaning on it on his forearms; his persistent one-eyed gaze lingers on the guard's frame just a bit too long than it would be deemed appropriate.

"That's a pity. I really like that corset."

***

Ever since Seonghwa was a child, he had this recurring dream: the huge waves of water were enveloping everything in their way, swallowing the people, the animals, the trees, the mountains, the whole lands with their famished mouths. He saw it time and time again, and at first, he was scared, but after witnessing it almost every other day, he got more intrigued than afraid. However, no one had answers to his questions.

He grew up in the suburbs of the Ridge, accompanied by an old couple that he called grandparents, although he was aware that they weren't related in any way. "Nanny" told him this when he was ten years old, but Seonghwa knew it even before that because they were different. They didn't have that silver in their eyes; they spoke in a dialect when they thought that the boy wasn't listening to them; and they never... talked to mountains, although they were surrounded by them. 

When Seonghwa heard the rocks sing for the first time, his eyes turned wet from the emotions he thought he wasn't capable of. It was a sad, barely audible trill, like a swan song about losing something they could never get back. But as soon as he told his caretakers about it, thinking that they could help him save the mountain and spare it from its pain, they looked at each other intensely, as if having a silent dialogue.

It was not until his fifteenth birthday that his "grandpa" gifted him the book. It was an old, slightly torn manuscript that he initially thought was just another fairy tale that his caretakers liked to recite. It was about some country that had kings and queens, just like theirs, but they were so exceptional and the stories about them were so fascinating that Seonghwa couldn't stop himself from swallowing the whole book in one day. The ending was an unfortunate one: corruption, erosion, and God's retribution—it almost resembled these religious texts when he read about the Great Flood, and famine, and rebirth of the new nation.

...religious, huh? He surely read that somewhere else. Wasn't it one of the paragraphs of his old history book that had this excerpt about the Dragon Kingdom?

When he asked "grandpa" this question, he coughed awkwardly and handed him the last pages of the book Seonghwa was still holding, and it gave him the answers to all the questions he ever asked. He instantly remembered the tides that he saw in his dreams, the water that swallowed his home, his dreams, and his life, and the next thing he realized was that the mountains were never whipping about their loss but about his.

"It's your first life, Seonghwa," the old man smiled, wiping the stray tear on the boy's face. "Regardless of the choices of your parents, I can't keep you away from yourself for eternity. So if truth is what you seek, I shall let you go with a light heart."

The dry hand got lost in his light hair, and he saw his nanny's wrinkled face that was curling her lips in a soft smile. 

"Find them," she nodded. "Those rocks covered with water. They will whisper to you and lead you to where you belong."

Breathing in the salt of the sea of the Pool and feeling the sunlight warm his eyelids now is probably the only thing in this world that still manages to bring him comfort. It is weird how this very water was also the one that flooded half of the Pool ages ago, along with his distant relatives' home, buring it six feet under. On the other hand, he knows that the sea is not to blame: it was simply washing away the sins of previous generations.

"What a beauty!" Hongjoong whistles yet again, caressing the polished wood of Seonghwa's ship. His next question makes the Officer successfully return to reality. "What's her name?"

"I don't know," Seonghwa answers genuinely after a while. "I bought it straight from the carpenter, so it had no name inscribed yet. I was short on time."

"Aurora," the pirate says matter-of-factly. "The beautiful goddess of dawn." *

The Officer crosses his arms over his chest, intrigued.

"Why?"

"Because of your hair."

"Huh?" Seonghwa ran a fist through his silver locks and asked again, "What is wrong with my hair?"

"It's gray. Don't you know the legend?" Hongjoong tsked, rolling his eyes, and continued without waiting for a reaction. "Aurora fell in love with a mortal, so she asked for him to be granted immortality. But she never asked for eternal youth, so when her lover started to age, she decided to save him from the torture she brought upon him unintentionally and turned him into a grasshopper."

"It's my natural hair color. I don't plan to die any time soon," Seonghwa explained. "And I don’t plan to dye either."

The Officer was so full of himself because of this quick-witted joke, but Hongjoong's mouth corners instantly dropped.

"Yeah, old man. I can already imagine how much fun I will have with you on this journey," he mumbled, kicking the sack with his belongings. "Show me my cabin, will you?"

"Pardon me, but due to the small size of the ship, I can't provide each member of the crew with their own cabin," he explained, bowing his head slightly. "You will share it with me. After all, I still have to keep an eye on you, so it's even rather convenient."

The pirate smirks in turn. Of course, this man wouldn't let him do whatever his heart desired. Even if he saved his ass, it was only because of a lucky coincidence, so it would be strange of him to expect that Seonghwa would suddenly change his principles as soon as they shook hands.

"Yes," he hisses quietly, accepting his fate. "Yes, Officer, please keep your eyes on me. I will be deeply hurt if your gaze wanders elsewhere in my presence."

"Sir."

Hongjoong reluctantly turns on his heels, willing to see who it is behind his back, and notices a quartet of men with a tall marine officer in the front. "Yunho". Although he never got into details, Seonghwa mentioned some of them previously, but the pirate knew for sure who this boy was. There was something about him, either in his demeanor or in his persistent eyes, that made him so exceptional.

"All of our people have arrived," Yunho reports to the Officer and nods behind his back. He puts his hand on the shoulder of another guard and introduces him. "You know Jongho already, sir. He will be our extra Navigator for this journey. Our Captain must be unaware, but this boy has a fantastic memory! Even Governor Kim was shocked with his abilities when he got to know that our Jongho had memorized all the nautical charts and maps of currents in just a week. We are lucky to have this prodigy on our team."

Seonghwa purses his lips, seeing the "prodigy" lower his eyes and bow politely to him without uttering a single word. Indeed, he is familiar with Jongho, and he was the first to notice his talents and hand him to Yunho for additional training. However, time passed, and the boy was getting more and more recognition; this is when he noticed how close he was to Kim Jaehwan, the Governor of the Pool. It hadn't been a day since he didn't spend at least an hour in the Governor's study, but no one knew what exactly these meetings were for.

However, Seonghwa has a guess.

He sees it in the Governor's eyes during his reports on the Great Hall meetings. He hears it in his caustic remarks to every Seonghwa's word. He feels it on his skin when this man passes by him. The coldness, the threat, the jealousy.

Seonghwa is sure that no one knows about his peculiar descent that dates back to the golden age of the ancient Dragon clan, the representatives of which were blessed with the gift of Divine Order due to which everyone recognized them as legitimate rulers, capable of submitting anyone to their will simply by looking into their eyes. By "no one", Seonghwa, of course, means "no one but Yunho" because he was careless enough to slip in his presence. He still remembers the fear in his eyes when he couldn't move a finger the second Seonghwa said, "Freeze!" to him. The sound of the metal clinging against the marble floor and the quick steps of someone running away sobered both of them back then, so the only thing the Officer could do was abuse this power once more and order the boy to catch the spy that was hiding behind the curtain and saw everything.

Jongho. It was this very boy who saw him show his true colors that day. Was it also him who told Seonghwa's secret to the Governor during one of their special meetings? Is he the main reason why Kim Jaehwan sees him as a threat now?

It's okay, though. If Seonghwa succeeds in this journey, he will vanish from their lives forever anyway.

"I instructed Wooyoung and San on the minimum they need to know, so we won't lose any precious time on that," Yunho smiles politely, and the Officer notices two pairs of cautious eyes behind his back.

"Good. I have only a week for this journey, so it was very convenient of you."

"You're the Head of the Marine Guard, sir. It's only natural to be reluctant about letting go of such a high-ranking officer for too long."

Indeed. The most precious dogs should always stay beside their owners. But the same goes for the most dangerous ones. And Seonghwa can literally feel the tug of a leash around his neck.

"Th-the Head?" Young, or should we better say Wooyoung, bats his eyelashes in astonishment. Yunho smiles with genuine pride for his senior, but the next boy's phrase wipes it away instantly. "Hey, then you could've paid us in real estate! Now I feel like I got scammed!"

"He is joking, sir." The other boy, San, hides his friend behind his back as soon as he sees the Officer's eyes light up with a familiar angry glint.

"I love your team already," Hongjoong laughs his ass out at this skit and steps up closer to the newcomers, squeezing Wooyoung's shoulder lightly. "I'm sorry, honey, but the most valuable asset on this ship is me, your Captain; thus, my remuneration is the biggest. But I'm sure our noble Marine Guard will tip you nicely after a successful mission. So, let's work together for it to manifest into reality quickly."

Wooyoung smiles sheepishly at the pinkie finger that the Captain offers him to seal their cute little deal, which he does, just because this man seems like a cool older brother to him. Hongjoong gives a high-five to the other boy too before his attention shifts to the most quiet one, Jongho, whom he lightly taps on the shoulder to get his attention.

"So, you must be my Third Mate," the Captain chuckles, looking at the serious chocolate drops of the boy's eyes. "I suppose we should have a meeting to make sure we are on the same page and plan our route properly. Let's leave all the boring rigging to your seniors and have a talk, shall we?"

Jongho nods uncertainly, casting a quick glance at Seonghwa as if asking for his permission, and the Officer clears his throat immediately, making Hongjoong turn his attention to him.

"Don't you think you forgot something?"

"Did I?" the Captain wonders.

"Your crewmates."

The only thing that Hongjoong asked for (apart from the share of the loot they would stumble upon) was to bring his two trusted men with him. The Surgeon and the Carpenter—the most vital crewmates that can save your ass in the most shitty situations you may find yourself in. Although he had no problem with their Carpenter being a pirate, Seonghwa was certainly reluctant to let an outlaw be their Surgeon. But Hongjoong insisted that the boy has saved his life more than once, and he can trust no one but him for this job, even though he had no formal training or hospital experience. They were doomed.

"Ah, my boys?" the Captain smiles. "They are already here. You didn't notice?"

"You were right, Captain! It's the most beautiful ship I ever worked on!" the low voice was heard above their heads before its owner jumped off the mast and landed right in front of them. "Would be a pity if it got scratched along the way, but I promise that I'll keep it afloat anyway."

The orange-haired young man smiles widely and stretches his calloused hand towards Seonghwa for a handshake, but as soon as he notices the barely concealed disgust on the Officer's face, he coughs awkwardly and already wants to withdraw his hand when Yunho shakes it instead.

"Thank you," the Boatswain answers. "I'm sure we will have a safe journey thanks to you."

"Mingi is sure as hell talented, but first and foremost, you will have a safe journey thanks to my Yeosangie," Hongjoong breaks their handshake with his palm and whistles loudly, making a small blond boy instantly appear from the cabins.

That's him. The little rascal who Seonghwa beat up that night when he arrested "the Pirate King" and his crew. Of course, he seemed weaker than other pirates: he wasn't a fighter but a doctor. "Yeosangie" made a polite 90-degree bow to all the men on the deck before introducing himself quickly and hiding behind the Captain, as far as possible from Seonghwa's scorching gaze. Thus, they were done with introductions, so there was no need to waste any more time on chit-chat: the quest was there to be uncovered, inviting them into its tempting iron embrace.

***

"Wow, this is so cool! I can't even move a finger. You must be insanely good at macramé!" Mingi wonders excitedly when he sees how easily both of his arms can be bound and immobilized with just a single roll of rope.

"Macramé... Yeah," Yunho chuckles in turn, his tone full of irony when he ties the last knot and lets the other man inspect his finished work.

With Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Jongho taking shifts at helm, the only rigger that could assist Yunho with sails was Yeosang. But the two of them were not fast enough for Yunho's liking, so when Mingi volunteered to learn the basics of rigging, the Boatswain was more than delighted to spend some time teaching him a few tricks and tips. They didn't want to disturb Jongho on his duty and mess up the sail tuning, so the only thing that was left was to improvise.

"Alright, let's review what we have learned today. Name at least three types of knots that I just did," Yunho asks.

"Ughhhhhh," the redhead hesitates. "I can't really point to anything in this state, so would you mind doing it for me?"

The Boatswain lets out an awkward laugh, realizing how dumb his request was, and tugs at the rope around the other man's left wrist.

"This one," he asks.

"Oh, I know!" Mingi exclaims excitedly. "It's a clove hitch. The 'x' shape is too peculiar here. Captain uses it for fender whips."

"Well done," Yunho smiles in turn and immediately points to another one. "What about this?"

"Easy! It's two half hitches. But I call it a 'bagel'. You put it over a clove hitch, and it keeps it even more secure."

"A bagel, ahahaha. Alright, thus far, your memorization methods are working nice."

Yunho's laugh suddenly halts when he notices someone with his peripheral vision. Wooyoung, who was fishing all day long, has finally washed, scaled, and sliced all the catch, a portion of which is now resting comfortably on the tray in his hands. He comes up to the pair of men, raising his eyebrow with a silent question, but Yunho gives him exactly the same look, nodding at his feet before the boy even manages to say a word.

"Why are you barefoot?"

All day long, and even now, Wooyoung is still ignoring the basic rules that the Boatswain informed him of before boarding the ship. Wearing shoes and a hat were among them, but both were rejected and forgotten instantly.

"It's comfy," the boy shakes his shoulders.

"It's dangerous," Yunho rolls his eyes, but Wooyoung mirrors him, tsking.

"Cutting the blood flow is dangerous."

"He is relaxed. It will be okay."

"Huh? Should I be tense?" Mingi suddenly straightens his back, but Yunho soothingly taps on his knee and shakes his head with a soft smile.

"What I mean is that most of the knots that I demonstrated are used by sailors because they easily tighten when pressure is applied to them. The more you struggle, the tighter the knot is. Works perfectly for sails, which are always trying to wriggle away due to the wind."

Mingi opens his mouth in a silent "ah" and tries to move his arms a bit more to feel what Yunho has told him about. But as soon as the rope actually tightens, the "ah" can stay silent no more.

"Dummy," Yunho whispers softly, snatching a knife from his sheath and cutting the tight piece of rope. The red line on his forearm is quickly covered by the Boatswain's thumb, which rubs away the unpleasant sensation.

Wooyoung's face is the epitome of "I told ya", but instead of nagging, he picks up a piece of sashimi from the tray with chopsticks and offers it to Mingi, who instantly munches on the chef's compliment.

"How is it? Not too bland? Should I add more salt?" the boy wonders.

"No, it's perfect," Mingi tries to show thumbs up but belatedly remembers that his arms are bound, so he just smiles sheepishly in turn.

"Can I have a taste too?" Yunho bats his eyelashes childishly, and Wooyoung smirks at him.

"Of course! Say 'ah'."

Yunho opens his mouth, like a little birdie waiting to be fed, so Wooyoung twirls the next piece of fish in the air, but as soon as it reaches the Boatswain's face, it changes trajectory and flies towards Mingi again. The Carpenter has no objections, so when his piece ends up in Mingi's mouth, Yunho's face turns unimpressed.

"Wow, didn't know that you were a bully," the guard pouts.

"You're just too cute. Here," Wooyoung smiles widely and finally feeds Yunho too. The satisfied look on his face lets the cook know that he indeed did a good job. "I'll give you more only after you untie him. Be quick; dinner is waiting."

The boy quickly retreats, taking the tray with him, and Yunho's stomach instantly grumbles, so he turns to his student with a smile and starts to undo the knots.

"We will continue after the meal," he promises, but the last bit of his sentence gets drowned by the sudden skirmish.

The voices of their Captain and the Officer are trying to outcry each other and get louder and louder until both of the men appear on the deck. Hongjoong steps back with a usual smirk on his face and a whole crate of alcohol in his arms, while Seonghwa stays unimpressed by both and snatches one of the bottles in order to inspect it properly.

"I don't think that it's rubbing alcohol," he comments critically. "What is a box of rum doing in our surgeon's supplies?"

"Officer, don't you know? Rubbing alcohol is long forgotten. Rubbing rum—that's the new black!" Hongjoong laughs out loud and adds, "I prefer rubbing it between my chest and back, if you know what I'm talking about."

"I don't condone alcohol on my ship. Throw it away. Right now."

"Oh, c'mon!" the other man whines. "I have a stressful job. Last time, I almost got beheaded! I need to cope with it somehow."

"You can meditate instead," Seonghwa comments caustically, tugging on the crate and trying to snatch it away from the pirate.

"Me?" Hongjoong screams. "I don't have time to sit down; what are you talking about?"

"I will hire you a herbalist when we return," Seonghwa promises.

The tug of war doesn't take long because a couple of bottles sneak away from the crate, falling on the deck and smashing into pieces. Seonghwa takes advantage of the Captain freezing in his spot in pure shock and rips the box from his arms, instantly throwing it overboard. Hongjoong already opens his mouth to express all his indignation, but Wooyoung interrupts their skirmish by running up from the cabins.

"What's the fuss abou— FUCKING HELL!"

The boy doesn't finish his question, stepping right into the shattered glass and falling on his ass, unable to stand still anymore. It is only now that Seonghwa notices that Wooyoung was barefoot, so the couple of sharp pieces get easily stuck in his sole, coloring his skin red.

"Don't touch it!" Seonghwa orders, getting closer to the boy and checking whether only his foot got hurt. Wooyoung clenches his teeth to stop himself from crying, but thankfully he doesn't make any rashed motions anymore. "Yeosang, come here with your kit! Quickly! San, get down here too! Clean the deck! Fuck, why would you... Ugh, nevermind."

The Officer shakes his head. There's no need to reprimand after everything happened; Wooyoung must've already learned his lesson, so additional nagging is of no use. Seonghwa wonders whether it will be comfortable for Yeosang to tend to him here, so he puts the boy's arm around his neck and lifts him up on his arms, bringing him to the bench instead and sitting him on it.

"What happened?" Yeosang asks, but waves his hand as soon as he sees Wooyoung. "I told you, dear. You don't listen to your Captain or to his mates, then listen to the doctor at least."

"You're not even a doctor," Wooyoung hisses, his teeth still gritted.

"Huh?" the blond raises his eyebrow. "Should I leave these pieces in your foot then?"

"Shut up and do the job," Seonghwa bites back instead of Wooyoung, and the Surgeon quickly lowers his head, not daring to go against his order. The Officer notices how San awkwardly stands behind his back, trying to make sure that everything is fine with his partner in crime, but Seonghwa hisses at him too. "And why are you standing still? I told you to clean up. Do you want someone else to get hurt as well?"

San's shoulders droop, and he reluctantly staggers away to pick up the mop. The wording of that last question was off: it almost seemed like it's San who is responsible for this incident, when in reality it is all Seonghwa's fault. He could've dealt with the shattered glass immediately; he could've been more agile and prevented the bottles from falling in the first place; he could've proved himself to be more authoritative in Wooyoung's eyes and persuaded him to listen to all his words as if they were Holy Scripture; he could've ordered him at the very least.

"It's not a big trauma, sir. There's no need to be burning a hole in me," Yeosang notes, taking the last piece out and cleaning the wounds. "You see? Just a couple of cuts."

Everyone is probably now thinking that he made a fuss out of nothing. What's wrong with having a box of rum on a ship led by a Pirate King? What's so serious about glass cuts when no one is dying of blood loss? Yes, they may be right. But this ship belongs to Seonghwa. And this crew was gathered by him. So he expects them to follow his rules from A to Z.

"San?" Seonghwa calls the "cabin boy" once again.

"Yes, Officer," he flies to the man instantly.

"Bring his shoes."

With his foot nicely treated and bandaged, the boy already wants to stand up, but the Officer pushes him back on the bench and takes the pair of shoes from San, putting them on Wooyoung and diligently working on the shoestrings.

"Sir, you don't need to do that. My hands are fine; I can tie them myself," Wooyoung mumbles cautiously.

"No," Seonghwa refuses. "I will tie them so that you won't be able to take them off easily."

"Huh? Do you want me to sleep in shoes too?"

The Officer rises to his feet, evaluating his work, and hums, satisfied, stepping away from the boy.

"I will untie them only before bedtime," he ensures Wooyoung and then turns to his Boatswain. "Yunho, don't you dare teach him anything that concerns rigging. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the guard nods.

"Now, I suppose everyone learned the lesson today," Seonghwa turns to his crew, looking into all of their faces one by one. "When I say you should do something, you do it. No questions asked. No objections posed. Am I clear enough?"

"Yes, sir," the men agree in unison.

He stays silent for another second, making sure that everyone understands the importance of this pep talk, and then turns away, tapping their Navigator on the shoulder.

"Jongho, you may rest. I shall take the post."

The dinner passed without any accidents: in fact, everyone was too quiet and well-behaved for their own good that Seonghwa even started to get annoyed by it. Wooyoung turned out to be a talented cook, and the rest of the crew didn't forget to praise his fishing and scaling skills before shyly stealing more pieces of chewy sashimi and gulping it with an additional portion of rice.

It is when Hongjoong suddenly gets up that the Officer wonders, "Where are you going?"

"To the town," he answers and pats Wooyoung on the head as a thank you. "There's this tavern that I like, so it would be unforgivable of me to not visit it while we're still on this island."

"A tavern? Aren't you on duty tonight?" Seonghwa raises his eyebrow.

"Yeah, but my most precious crewmate, Yunho, agreed to switch our shifts," the pirate blows a kiss to the guard, who smiles in turn and nods quietly. "Thank you, kind soul, once again."

Unbelievable! He has just lectured them about abiding by the rules, and the first thing they do is bend them to their liking! Not to mention that going to the tavern would first and foremost mean "getting drunk". This man wasn't able to sneak liquor on the ship, so he decided to do it the old-fashioned way. What the—

"Have a good night, everyone!" Hongjoong waves them goodbye, and Yeosang shouts at him to bring something tasty on the way back.

With Hongjoong gone, the atmosphere turns even more grim, so Seonghwa excuses himself and leaves after thanking the cook. Yunho finds him on the deck in a minute, and his eyes show genuine surprise.

"You won't follow him?" he asks, and Seonghwa understands that he's talking about Hongjoong.

"Follow? Why?"

"Aren't you afraid that he will run away at the first opportunity?"

The edge of Seonghwa's lips lifts up slightly, almost resembling a smile.

"No," he reassures his subordinate and counts on his fingers. "First, his teammates are still here. Second, he is motivated to stay. Third, he has nowhere else to go."

"Why are you so sure about that?" Yunho still wasn't convinced.

"Haven't you read the report?" the Officer raised his eyebrows. "His previous crewmates wanted to overthrow him. That night, when we came to book them, they actually waited until the Captain would get drunk, so they could cut his throat and change the leader, who wouldn't be as soft during their raids as him."

Oh, that explains a lot. The first thing that seemed so weird to Yunho was the way Hongjoong never showed any desire to flee, as if he wanted the Guard to teach his crew some lesson and get them arrested as a cherry on top. On the other hand, the crew didn't care about his well-being either, saving only their own butts during the fight: Yeosang was the only one who dared to face Seonghwa in order to protect the Captain and give the Guard a bit of a hard time.

"You think he knew about their plans?" Yunho huffs in realization.

"The only person he saved out of all those men was Yeosang. I suppose he was the one who told him," the Officer confirms his assumptions. "And that's one of the reasons why he didn't run away: he used us to avenge them. Now, all of them have their little fingers cut off and are unable to wield swords anymore, but he is still a Captain, safe and sound, on a ship of a respected Marine Guard. He couldn't sleep on that opportunity, and he won't trade it for anything else in the future either."

On the way back to his cabin, Wooyoung tugs Seonghwa on his sleeve, nodding at his shoes, so the Officer spends another couple of minutes untying his laces in deafening silence, which is interrupted only by Wooyoung sulking that the elder doesn't let him watch this process and learn new things. He overhears how Seonghwa huffs in slight amusement when he rises to his feet to take the blindfold off the boy's face, which he tied just in case this sneaky little bastard would memorize his movements. The man steps back and nods goodbye silently, but as soon as he turns around, he notices San in the doorframe, who looks like he's daydreaming, his eyes completely unfocused, before he bats his eyelashes and steps out of the Officer's way to let him leave.

Seonghwa nods at him too, lightly pulling on the doorknob once and twice, and thrice, but the strange door doesn't shut no matter how much he tries. What is that? Should he call Mingi to check whether some deformation occurred there?

"The door won't close. It's okay, Officer. Just leave it like that," he hears San's voice from the inside of the room. "It's easier to breathe at night when it's open anyway."

Right. They don't have a window in this cabin, so it must be quite inconvenient. Huh, wait, what is he even thinking? They should be thanking him for being provided with their own space! Any other person in his shoes would have saved up on accommodation, but he was kind enough to choose a ship with four individual cabins instead of one huge hold!

Seonghwa is so caught up in his thoughts that he remembers that he doesn't need to leave the hold only when he has already opened the door. So he shuts it back and turns on his heels, ready to head straight to his cabin and get lost in the myriad of maps, when he hears Wooyoung's voice.

"Fascinating."

This one little word makes him freeze in his place and get as quiet as possible, hoping that these two won't notice that he's still there, just at an arm's length from their door.

"What?" San asks, and the sound of the springs tells him that the boy has just sat on his cot.

"How easily these marine fellows can complicate your life just by moving their fingers a couple of times," Wooyoung explains with a smirk in his voice. "Have you seen what Yunho was doing today?"

"Do you mean their rigging session with Mingi? Yeah, I watched them from the crow's nest."

"Didn't it make you want to learn it as well?"

"Why? To untie your shoelaces behind his back?"

His? Were they talking about Seonghwa in the third person? And why does it feel so uncomfortable to listen to it? Yes, he should definitely stop doing whatever he is doing now and work out how to leave unnoticed.

"I don't think that Yunho was thinking about sails when he tied Mingi's arms," Wooyoung snickers. "He can fool him, but not me."

The springs squeak yet again, and Seonghwa can hear someone shift on the bed, followed by San's caustic mumbling, "Don't tell me that him tying the strings got you excited as well."

"If that's what you want, my lips are sealed."

...

...

What? Did he just..?

"I would never want that," the other boy answers, and his last words get muffled by a wet kissing sound. "Besides, I do feel you. Such a gorgeous man on his knees for you: anyone's heart would flutter."

It's not that Seonghwa is unaware of his being objectively attractive and accomplished, but hearing about it in such a sultry tone definitely was not something he would expect. Would any of them ever dare say it to his face, though? Probably not.

"I liked seeing him care about you. Maybe he really is a misunderstood softie," San wonders in a murmur.

"Wow, that would be exactly my type," the other boy giggles and then adds in a lower tone, "But I gotta say, when he lifted me up, his body felt quite hard for a softie."

San huffed loudly.

"Are you trying to make me jealous or envious?"

"Why not both?"

"You're my nightmare," the brunet sings with a soft smile. "I love you."

The moist sounds of kissing and clothes ruffling are enough for Seonghwa to conclude this eavesdropping session and tug on the main door to the hold, opening and closing it with a loud thud, as if he just returned and hurried through the hall to his cabin, trying not to glance at the seductive opening of the first door to the right.

Chapter Text

"I'm a professional."

Hongjoong's gummy smile is so sweet that the Officer actually wants to slap it off of his face, along with this cocky look. Seonghwa was ready to lecture him the moment this man would step on the deck in the morning, but, to his shock, the Captain was already at his duty, helping Yunho tune their sails before departure from the harbor. His face, his clothes, his scent—nothing could give away the fact that he spent the whole night drinking cheap liquor in some godforsaken inn.

"What?" the pirate giggles in his face while steering the ship out of the dock. "Shall I give you some drinking lessons, Officer?"

"I'll pass on that," Seonghwa turns away.

The morning was sunny and warm, and it probably would be nice to feel the sun rays touch your hair along with the cool wind that would ruffle it softly, but yesterday's skirmish was still on everyone's mind, so when Wooyoung comes out of the hold with a bandana on his head, Hongjoong whistles approvingly, shortly glancing at the Officer. Seonghwa hates it when someone makes him repeat himself again and again, so when the boy listened to him after a single reproach, it certainly did satisfy his ego. But then he sees how the cook stomps along the deck barefoot, and his eyebrows knit instantly. He's almost ready to step up and bark at the boy again when he sees San following him with a water bowl in his hands, some multi-colored herbs floating on the surface.

The brunet nods at the bench, and Wooyoung jumps on it with a wide smile, waving his feet like a little kid until San lowers on one knee in front of him, catching him by the left ankle and carefully unwrapping the bandages on it to further place the injured limb straight in the bowl with ointments. Wooyoung hisses sharply and his muscles tense, so the other boy raises his eyes to check on him, but he only scrunches his nose in turn.

"Cold," Wooyoung murmurs, so San huffs at him and gently rubs his skin for him to get accustomed to the temperature faster.

Human touch was always a controversial topic in Seonghwa's mind. He could literally break the arm of a person who would lay a finger on him without notice. Maybe it's the main reason why the Officer has happened to gather a whole collection of gloves of various designs and purposes—just so that he won't have to come into direct contact with anyone and endure the weight of other person's germs on his skin. But these two seem to be too good at skinship, as if it comes naturally to them, along with a lack of shame when showcasing their level of intimacy.

You may say, "Seonghwa, but didn't you literally carry that boy like a bride yesterday? And you didn't think twice before doing it. Didn't even seem to care about anything, did you?"

Well... Shut up.

Deep in his thoughts, he doesn't even notice when San is done with one leg, Wooyoung resting it comfortably now on the other boy's shoulder while he tenderly washes the right one in the ointments as well. The very thought of being in the shoes of any of the two at that moment makes Seonghwa's hair stand on end with embarrassment and nausea. However, seeing them like that from the side, completely detached from the rest of the world, doesn't seem repulsive in the slightest, but rather eye-catching and... sensual.

"Aish," Wooyoung gasps, and the brunet raises his head in question. He breathes out and quickly explains, "Ticklish."

San's face lights up with a tiny smile, and he can't stop himself from leaning towards the boy's leg that is perched on his shoulder and touching the thin ankle with his lips, the soothing sensation making Wooyoung melt on the spot. His smirk disappears when he finally feels that someone's watching them, so he turns his head, noticing two pairs of eyes—the Captain and the Officer—glued to an extravagant scene in front of them.

"Stop that!" Yeosang hisses at the boys when he passes by and hits them both with a towel. "I feel lonely just by looking at you, you bastards."

"Haha!" Hongjoong laughs behind the Officer's back and then turns his attention back to the steering wheel. His expression is especially soft when he mumbles, "He's not wrong, though. They are amusing. The kids you picked up."

Seonghwa stops staring as well, realizing how rude he was, but then again, they were just in his line of sight. It's not like he's looking for any opportunity to catch a glimpse of their relationship.

"They are street performers," he says matter-of-factly. "I guess it's what they are used to: attention grabbing."

Hongjoong smirks.

"Well, I'm certainly hooked on that drama. As well as a good half of our crew."

Seonghwa noticed with his peripheral vision how San applied new bandages to the other boy's foot and helped him put his shoes on. Should he go and tie them again? Seonghwa can't decide whether it's appropriate of him to do it now when they only see subtext in his actions.

"What do you mean?" he asks the pirate instead of going.

"Didn't Jongho tell you?" Hongjoong raises his eyebrow.

"Jongho?" Seonghwa echoes in surprise and shakes his head. "We don't talk about topics that don't concern work."

"You are an awful senior," the Captain reproaches him. "Anyways, I asked him during breakfast why his eye bags are so dark, and he told me that he couldn't sleep last night."

"What does it have to do with drama?"

"The lovebirds are his neighbors."

Oh.

That explains a lot.

Seonghwa can only imagine what sorts of sounds could be haunting the two of his subordinates, who happened to be in the cabin next to these love-sick con artists. He got only a trial version of it yesterday, but it was still memorable enough to stay on his mind when he needed nothing but silence and concentration to focus on the next possible route they could take.

The main issue with this voyage was the lack of maps of these territories. You see, the waters of the eastern part of the Pool were always purposefully avoided because the residents of the region still believe that these lands are cursed. Back in the day, during the times of Dragon clan rule, the Pool actually wasn't shaped in the form of a crescent: instead, it was a full circle of land, with the western and eastern parts of it additionally connected with a thin strip of land that met in the middle in a circle-like Peninsula. It resembled an eye: the land encircling a round eyeball, the sea waters acting as the lids, and the round Peninsula in the middle was an iris. But the name "Pool" was chosen instead to signify the vast low point of the biggest river in the kingdom, whose source was in the Eastern Mountains, making it flow through the whole River Valley with a mirriad of its streams and lakes. The second biggest river would start in the Western Mountains, known as the Ridge. And thus, the two grand rocky lands would be connected by their rivers that would intertwine somewhere in the middle, like the thin fingers of destined lovers.

However, after the Great Flood that came with the despotic rule of the last Dragon clan descendant, one third of the Pool was buried under water, and even the Eastern Mountains were nowhere to be found. This very scene was flooding Seonghwa's mind as well through his dreams, telling him the story of the beginning and the end of his family tree. Though there were people who set off on a journey like theirs—to find the cursed lands or at least the mountains—none returned, taking the secrets of their voyages to the grave. That is why Seonghwa needed Hongjoong.

The rumors of the Pirate King's successful taming of the seas were loud, and it would be a miracle if the Officer did not hear about him. But what intrigued him the most was the man's ability to feel the currents and winds, as if they whispered to him in the same way stones would whisper to Seonghwa. His team never heard of storms or breaches; never have they ever encountered the Guard's patrol or other pirates' ships; every mission ended as a great success with tons of loot from the most atrocious parts of the Pool. Now, don't get him wrong; Seonghwa has heard of numerous talented sea wolves in his lifetime, but Kim Hongjoong's record was too clean. It was impossible for him not to wield magic or at least own some peculiar artifacts that would aid him in his raids.

Naturally, during interrogation, Seonghwa searched him but didn't find a trace of anything that could be of interest. This thing could've helped him reach the goal, but instead he decided to go for full Hongjoong. Maybe the rumors were right? Maybe he is the notorious prodigy Seonghwa was searching for all this time?

"So what about the course? I can't understand these scribbles, Officer," Hongjoong's laugh turned his attention back to reality, and he saw how the Captain was holding a map that he worked on at night to brainstorm their next possible steps. The initial southeastern course turned out to be a waste of time, so they had to think quickly to stick to the timing. "Wow, I thought I was a careless navigator, but it turns out that even Royal Guards can be sloppy."

"I'm glad that you are at least literate," Seonghwa huffed, pointing with his finger to an "X" on a map. "Let's try to reach this one."

"Were you throwing darts yesterday to decide?" Hongjoong laughed light-heartedly at a seemingly random spot on the map.

"Not at all," the Officer looked him in the eye with a light smirk on his lips. "Just saw it in a dream."

***

He thought that he had long gotten accustomed to the pungent smell of salt and to the merciless wind that shamelessly tore his clothes open, as if crawling through the loops of his camisole with its cold fingers. Now, walking around the deck during his watch, Seonghwa could barely make out in the darkness of the night what exactly was sending shivers down his spine: the gusts of wind or some supernatural premonition. Hongjoong was still standing at the helm, yawning lazily and suppressing the desire to fall into the hold himself, but, realizing that there was no one to replace him until the ship was anchored, he stubbornly continued to check the compass with the map, expecting the imminent appearance of land on the horizon. Could he leave the Captain alone? Probably yes, but with their luck, it's much safer to have at least one spare member of the team as an extra pair of eyes and ears on the deck.

This was his first time on watch on this ship, but definitely not the first time Seonghwa couldn’t sleep, so when he heard muffled voices from the hold, he was almost not surprised, but only sighed tiredly, freezing at a row of doors. This first door to the right was cursed. When they were deciding who should take which cabin, everyone prayed to the sea gods that they would not get this tiny room without a window, which looked more like some kind of storage room than a place to sleep. And the door of it still wouldn't shut tightly, even after Mingi checked it. Damn, just look at it...

Despite being glued to each other here and there during the day, these two puppies still couldn't get enough of each other. In the dim light of a gas lamp, the dark room unveils only their blurry silhouettes, placed right in front of the door opening, almost as if strategically, in order to attract the passing audience. Wooyoung was pinned to the wall by San's entire body, receiving wet kisses with an open mouth and letting out such unholy whines, which probably even Hongjoong could notice soon. When San's lips leave his mouth and travel lower, to the sensitive skin of the boy's neck, Wooyoung becomes even louder, dramatically banging the back of his head on the wall behind him to give his partner more space for his delicious kisses.

Seonghwa would actually deem it absolutely normal for them to indulge in such an act in their free time, but for one little fact that ruined everything: the thin walls of their ship and six other men who became unintended audience of this blasphemous performance in the middle of the night when all of them wanted nothing more but to rest peacefully. So when the man unceremoniously kicks the door open with an unpleasant creek and immediately sees how Wooyoung's eyes dart in his direction, the last thing he expects is that the boy will moan even louder, looking the Officer's figure up and down and rolling his eyes afterwards. Seonghwa's brow arches sarcastically at such a reaction, but when he studies the couple better after gaining this new, improved angle of them, he now notices how San's hand disappears in the trousers of the other boy, his mouth still sucking pretty little marks on the crook of Wooyoung's neck. Another pathetic whimper reaches his ears, and Seonghwa can't stand this shitshow anymore, stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him (wow, so it can actually close now, what the fuck!). It takes him hardly a step to cross the room and firmly press a palm on their cook's mouth.

"Would you finally shut up, Wooyoung-ah?" he hisses through his teeth, and the next whine gets successfully silenced by a thick layer of leather of his glove. Wooyoung's eyes turn teary at the inability to express himself verbally, and only loud huffs of his breathing do still remind Seonghwa of what the other boy is subjecting him to at this very moment.

San never stops showering the soft body with wet, almost vulgar, kisses, briefly glancing at Seonghwa from under his lashes when he leaves a visible bite mark on Wooyoung's collarbone, as if to show the newcomer who this boy belongs to. Seonghwa has nothing against it; in fact, he is even glad that these two feel comfortable enough on his ship and among the crew to be so open about the nature of their relationship with the others. However, is it indeed necessary to continue loving on each other so shamelessly even when the third person interferes?

The dark haired boy lets go of the warm body in his hands, only to fall on his knees, extending his arm to the intricate web of strings on Wooyoung's shirt. His fingers get lost in them, slowly trying to untie the persistent knots in the barely lit room. The vivid impatience in his gestures makes Seonghwa smirk sharply.

"Why didn't you shut him up earlier? It turned out to be fairly easy, isn't it?" the Officer growled under his breath, but San never paid him any attention, focusing entirely on unwrapping the other boy as if he were his birthday present.

Seonghwa huffs in indignation, tensing his jaw.

"Or was it your intention all along? To be as brazen as possible for someone to come and show you your place?"

With the strings finally undone, San can easily run his fingers down the tanned skin of the boy's stomach, making him tense under the scorching hot touch of his fingertips. His hand reaches lower, slipping Wooyoung's trousers down just enough to free his cock from the clutches of the restrictive pieces of clothing. San can't take his eyes off him, drinking in the sight of every inch of perfection, the living deity that is Wooyoung, his breathing loud and fast when he runs his tongue on his lips, ready to devour this boy in a single bite.

And the single bite it is.

It is fascinating how effortlessly this seemingly small, cute mouth takes in all of Wooyoung, letting out a relaxed, satisfied huff when he stills himself, as if only now was he finally at peace. As if he belongs here better than anywhere else in the world, simply buried deep into the boy's lower stomach, making him whimper every time the hot throat spasms around him.

A second passes, then another one, and Seonghwa finally catches himself staring at the lewd scene played in front of his eyes. Is he a joke to them?.. How can anyone be so lost in their lust to tune out of the reality around them just to be fully absorbed by another person? Seonghwa can't coherently verbalize the sour feeling in his stomach, but it seemed to be something akin to jealousy. Being able to feel so selflessly vulnerable with someone must be a divine gift that he can never lay his hands on.

Seonghwa clicks his tongue, feeling the blood boiling in his veins, when he grips a handful of San's hair with his left arm and forcefully pulls him off of Wooyoung with a wet popping sound, raising his voice: "I'm talking to you, you pup!"

San looks lost and wronged, his eyes clouded with lust so puffy that he struggles to look up at the older man, begging him to let go with nothing but a nearly inaudible whine. The string of saliva that connects San's mouth with the glistening, reddened tip of the cock is so erotic that Seonghwa barely holds back the urge to catch it on his finger and feed it to the boy on the floor. The grip on his hair becomes even stronger, and he notices how San arches his back ever so slightly because of it, his eyes rolling back at the painful sensation, humbly accepting all the reprimanding he is going to get.

"Aren't you too greedy now, Sannie?" Seonghwa shakes the boy's head just for him to look up again and at least pretend that he's listening. "You're ignoring me—that's half of the problem. But how can you be so cruel to this cutie over here?"

Wooyoung breathed out through his nose, a quiet groan getting lost somewhere deep in his throat. His whole body was shaking, and his knees seemed so weak that they could give in any second, their only anchor being Seonghwa's palm over his mouth, pressing him tightly to a wall. The boy craved attention so badly that he genuinely thought he could die of heart failure if they kept turning a blind eye to his poor state.

"Or don't you know how to pleasure a man, Sannie? How could you just stay still after winding him up so bad?" the Officer continued with an entertained smirk on his lips. "No, let me guess: all of this, it's not about him, but about you. Show-off much?"

San closes his eyes just for a mere moment to digest this slight, humiliating pinprick from this man, his breathing getting faster after realizing how suddenly light-headed his words make him. The Officer only tsks at him, playing with the soft strands of his hair until the boy finally bats his eyelashes, returning to reality. And reality is still cruel because Wooyoung looks like a dream; his plump, perfectly round thighs are tightly pressed together in search of at least a tiny bit of friction but fail miserably, receiving only the waves of cool air that slowly torture his saliva-coated dick. Gosh, isn't that the prettiest man alive? He could ruin him so good, but for the hand in his hair that doesn't let San bully the hell out of his lover right here and now.

"Just look at him," the man urges. "He doesn't even need much. You were doing so great before, making him whimper so prettily under your touch, but suddenly, when I'm here, you turn into a tease?"

Seonghwa pushed the boy closer to Wooyoung's body, making him face the neglected cock that immediately made San's mouth water. It was so close that he could feel the heat emanating from his body, the smell of sea salt and musk making him lose his mind. What if he tries to pull out his tongue right now? Will he be able to reach him just like that, even with Seonghwa still keeping him slightly away from his desired destination with his iron grip? Will he be punished for misbehaving after that?

"See that?" Seonghwa muses. "The poor thing is so aroused it would be enough for him if you just sucked on his tip ever so slightly, but no. You were so lost in your own little game that you egotistically stripped him of any stimulation whatsoever. How unkind of you! You should apologize properly."

San looks up at him, waiting for further orders, not even questioning the man's logic behind his words, and the order follows immediately:

"Relax your jaw, honey. We don't want to hurt you, do we?"

Seonghwa has never seen two people click so well together as these two: their bodies seem to have been sculpted for each other, with San accommodating all of the boy just right, as if he already grew accustomed to this stinging sensation in his throat long before, easily letting the Officer control the movement of his head with the tight hairgrip—the perfect metronome for their melody. Wooyoung's thighs visibly tense at the sudden rough stimulation, and Seonghwa is almost sure that the boy uses all his mental powers right now not to jerk his hips and let go of the last brain cells left in his already empty head.

"Come on, Wooyoungie." Seonghwa urges him, noticing him struggling. "I will keep him nice and still for you. Just promise not to make noise, and he's all yours to use."

The boy nods frantically at the proposal, at least as much as the man's hand on his mouth lets him, his pupils dilating from the anticipation. The hand lets go of San's hair, and he almost loses his balance, but the man lifts him up by his chin, carefully massaging the sore muscles of his jaw with the tips of his fingers.

"You were doing so well just now," Seonghwa sings to him, watching the boy close his eyes in pure bliss from the praise and light caressing. "Let's help him together, shall we?"

San never answers, but his mouth stays boldly open, a clear invitation for them to do whatever their hearts desire. The leather-clad fingers return to his nape, getting lost in the dark strands, and the powerful tension makes him relax even more, fully relying on Seonghwa to guide him. But if such a straightforward act of submissiveness makes the Officer soft, Wooyoung certainly finds himself on a completely opposite side of the spectrum; the movements of his hips are frantic and ruthless and must hurt like hell, but the boy endures everything like a saint he is, never backing away from his lover. Seonghwa said it's an apology after all, so he should behave. He will show just how good he can be; he's not egoistic... He's not... He's not...

San's watery eyes finally give in, and a single tear runs down his flushed cheek, lingering on the sharp edge of his jaw—his expression so blissful and fucked out that Wooyoung growls even through his gag, losing it at such a raw sight in front of him. His movements stutter, and the body shudders with a sudden spasm. Seonghwa can see how goosebumps appear on his soft skin from the sensation.

"Oh, someone is close," he comments and smirks. "You must feel so good, sweetheart. Just a little more, dear."

Wooyoung tastes salty, just like his sun-kissed skin that bears the imprint of the open ocean air—so free and so unkempt that San deems it a crime not to swallow around him immediately, fighting the urge to cough from the sudden feeling of a foreign substance inside his mouth. Even when the boy whines from sensitivity and Seonghwa pulls him off of his cock, the brunet still leans forward, cleaning his lover thoroughly with tiny kitten licks. He nuzzles at his thigh lovingly as the final touch and raises his face up to see the reaction, breathing through his still agape mouth as if his jaw were dislocated permanently.

Seonghwa lets go of them, stepping aside, and Wooyoung's weak legs give in, letting him fall to his knees and catch the other boy's red and swollen lips with his own. They are mesmerizing. Insane and shameless, but so deeply captivating that Seonghwa can't stop himself from staring. Having no means of control over them anymore makes him uncomfortable and slightly vulnerable, so he lets them have their moment, silently searching for a water pitcher on a drawer to fill up a jug. When he returns, Wooyoung lazily retreats, studying his movements intently, as if drinking in his every motion. But the only thing he does is gently pat San's head so as not to startle him and raise his head slightly with his finger under the boy's chin to make him drink some water and soothe the soreness of his throat at least a bit.

(San will sure as hell lose his voice tomorrow. Please, remind Seonghwa to give him a day off of the crow's nest: this boy will not be able to warn them of shit!)

San gently stops him with his palm after he quenches his thirst and nods at the other boy, making Seonghwa chuckle from fondness and pass the jug to Wooyoung, bringing it to his lips as well. 

"Wooyoung, you should make him some tea with honey later or he will be a goner," he asks, and the boy simply nods at the request. He puts the empty jug away and suddenly grips the sweat-soaked fabric of San's shirt, lifting him up to his feet. "Now, I'm not quite done with you, kiddo, am I?"

He leads the completely lost brunet to the cot, pushing him on it with one swift movement, pulls a stool closer, and sits on it right in front of the boy, his hands immediately finding their place on San's knees, massaging the numb skin that will probably be decorated with bruises from standing in an uncomfortable position for too long. It takes only one quick glance at Wooyoung for him to shudder from intimidation.

"Why are you still sitting there, Young-ah? Don't you see that he needs help?"

It is actually not that noticeable at first sight, but as soon as one of the man's hands lifts up the boy's long shirt, it uncovers the literal mess underneath, with a wet patch on the light fabric of his trousers right on the visible outline of his hard cock. The other boy gasps, and Seonghwa tsks in disapproval under his breath with a barely audible "Messy boy" falling from his lips.

"Should we help him, though?" Wooyoung suddenly smirks but still climbs up on the cot behind the boy, wrapping his hands around his upper body, completely restricting his movements, and childishly putting his head on his broad shoulder.

The man raises his eyebrow sarcastically. "Huh, I can't tell anymore whether you actually hate or love each other. Such a thin line it is with you."

"He just likes attention," Wooyoung muses, nuzzling at the brunet's neck lazily. "Any kind of attention. The more, the better."

Seonghwa doesn't understand the meaning of these words fully yet, but they still linger on his mind for a while, a sudden guess hanging on the tip of his tongue, only not to be verbalized. Instead, he lightly pats San's crotch straight through his dirty clothes, making the boy clench his teeth.

"Well, we can surely give him that. He worked so hard for Wooyoungie to feel good; he deserves it." The Officer taps on the damp patch, feeling the turgid tip of his cock right under his fingertips, and carelessly tugs on the belt of the boy's pants, letting his length finally spring free in all of its hard and wet glory. Seonghwa's expression is perfectly blank and unreadable; he has always been a master of concealing his thoughts and emotions, but right now he's afraid that his mask will crack and crumble because of this boy. He thoughtfully pokes his cheek with his tongue, exploring the way yet another drop of precome slides down the shaft under his intense, sharp eyes. "Getting so hard just by having your throat used? You weren't even sucking him off properly, and still. Aren't you too sensitive for your own good? I should've kept you on his cock longer; maybe you would've come just like that."

"He can't," Wooyoung answers for him. The boy places a soothing kiss behind San's ear and adds, "Trust me, I tried. He is sensitive, though. So you should watch out, or he will boil over when you least expect it."

The milk analogy was so vivid that Seonghwa's eyes instantly darkened after hearing it. It seemed like Wooyoung noticed this change in him because he froze in his place, drinking in the hot sight in front of him. When the Officer said something to him, he didn't hear a word but read the question by the motion of his lips: "Do you have any oil?"

The boy nodded at the drawer, his eyes glued to Seonghwa's hands, taking the lid off the bottle and generously coating San and his own right palm with it. The palm, which was still clad in the tight embrace of fine black leather.

Wooyoung rounds his eyes.

"You're not going to take your gloves off?"

"No." Seonghwa turns to the brunet, asking, "Does that bother you? I can just leave you in Wooyoung's hands then." San instantly shakes his head, and his quick response makes the man smirk. "I can't tell whether you are too eager or just afraid that he will tease you to death for today... But what if I'm even worse, Sannie?"

He accentuates his words by guiding his oil coated glove up and then down his length, stilling it at the base with a tight grip. The leather is unexpectedly rough, and the mere feel of it on an already sensitive skin is akin to torture, especially when paired up with Seonghwa's excruciatingly slow movements. San inhales sharply, immediately biting at his tongue to shut himself up; the boy behind him never stops smiling but doesn’t forget to place soft kisses and tiny nibbles all along his lover's neck.

"Please, don't stop," the brunet mumbles in a soft whisper, and this is the first coherent sentence that Seonghwa hears from him tonight. He opens his mouth to clarify the request, but the boy adds a barely audible: "Both of you. Please."

"Oh, don't you worry about that, honey," Seonghwa promises. "I have a vision, and I'm not leaving until I bring it to life."

And San is a vision already. His crimson red, bitten lips are all covered in sores left by his sharp teeth because of his impatience; his round, cat-like eyes don't even blink when he stares at the Officer, trying to record his every movement in his memory forever; his arms are clasped behind his back, nails digged deep into his palms every time Seonghwa's hand runs down his length in a tight, torturous grip. Thank God that he trimmed his nails today, or else he would butcher himself in mere seconds and mutilate his palms just like that, unable to even climb up the mast on his shift tomorrow.

The dirty squelching sounds and the sight of those perfectly long fingers on his cock drive the brunet insane, but as soon as he tenses his thighs and stops breathing, trying to get lost in the nauseous sensation he can already feel on the tip of his tongue, Seonghwa instantly lets go of him. His cock falls limp on his stomach, and the growl dies somewhere inside his windpipe when all of his aspirations vanish into the thin air. His nape turns numb at the realization. Seonghwa examines his expression nonchalantly.

"What? He told me to watch out, and I'm just afraid you will foul me. I can't walk around in cum-coated clothes; I'm not you, Sannie."

Watch out.

Foul.

This man is evil. Why would anyone even start teasing if they despise you so badly? If both of you hate the experience, then why even bother? But Seonghwa smirks playfully at the hurt expression on his face, returning the hand to his cock and running the thumb around an overly sensitive tip. The lower half of his body feels like burning, but even though it hurts like hell, he is still so painfully close that he will happily tolerate any kind of attitude right now just to be able to get what he wants. San has a whole lot of wishes, and he is ready to shut it and endure all the steps that will bring him to fulfillment. 

"I know what you think about, pretty thing," the Officer whispers, an amused smile forming on his lips when he continues playing with the boy's cock just like he did before. "You are so perfect at holding on, so patient, so good when you know you will get a reward for it. But what if I never stop, Sannie? What if the reward never comes? What if I just keep you on edge all the time? What if I like seeing you pathetic like that: never stripping you of a chance to get up and make me leave, but somehow you stay still, letting me do all of that to you?" He tsks condescendingly at the way San averts his gaze from him and asks in a quiet snicker: "What if I just told you that the only way to make me happy is for you to put your clothes on right now and go to sleep like a good boy?"

Seonghwa barely manages to withdraw his hand just a second before it would be too late, and the boy opens his mouth in a silent cry at a loss of friction. Wooyoung pats his head lightly, leaving a calming, soft trail of kisses on his shoulder, answering for him: "He would love that so much. How did you know, Officer? Did you figure him out already?"

Being caught red-handed, San whines barely audibly in response. What should he say? That this man is too hot to ignore him? That all of this is nothing compared to the golden opportunity to get his attention all for free? To have these beautiful eyes fixed on him and him only? To be touched by him like no one on this ship ever was? Not even Wooyoung, who is always everyone's favorite. Just this fact alone makes him feel weak in his knees and thank God he is being held tightly right now, or else he would’ve turned into a puddle.

The prominent veins on his cock make it look almost purple, so sensitive he might lose it any second now, his balls no better sight when the Officer examines them in his palm and shakes his head while resting his grip at the base. He leans towards the brunet's left ear, and the latter can almost sense the smell of Seonghwa's perfume, the sweetness of it making him clench his jaw.

"You are such a disappointment, Sannie," the Officer concludes, his slight lisp tickling the boy's ear. "I think it would be better if I stopped trying and just ordered you. You know what I mean when I say order?"

Oh, he knows.

"It means"—Seonghwa continues, his lips grazing the boy's earlobe just slightly with every consonant—"that I will look into your eyes and you will see stars for a second, but other than that, you won't notice anything unusual, until, at some moment, you finally realize that your body has no choice but to oblige. I will order you, and you will never get to come ever again, no matter how hard you try, but the urge will always be there, driving you insane at the same time. You will simply be a whimpering mess with a broken cock, always on the edge but never able to spill over it. That will teach you just how good I want you to be for me, how well-behaved I want my boy to be. And then maybe, just maybe, I will decide to let you come some day, just to check whether you learned your lesson, but guess what? You will not even want it anymore, so used to being a pretty, brainrotten mess for me that you will cry and beg me not to let you come because you don't want to be bad... Oh."

This time, Seonghwa couldn't react as quickly as he would like to, so the cuff of his uniform gets painted with white streaks that linger on the light fabric and threaten to sip through the expensive golden thread. The Officer lets go of the boy, watching how his face turns wry and his lower stomach spasms as he spills on himself, his hips trying their best to hump the air but failing to get any relief from it.

"Just thinking about it made you come, how... pathetic." Seonghwa sums up. "At least it's a nice and ruined one, so you can be less disappointed with yourself. I mean, you were working so hard to please Wooyoungie too. Guess we will play with you more some other time, but for today, I will be nice and milk you raw until the last drop."

Seonghwa's hand jerks him off so perfectly now, but it's already too late for that, and it brings San only agony, his overly sensitive, spent cock rejecting any sort of friction. However, the confines of Wooyoung's arms around him and the Officer's tight grip never let him wriggle away from the tantalizing, scorching touch, so the boy has no other choice but to blink away the salty tears and bite through his lower lip to stop himself from crying out loud and making the older man angry again. Seonghwa stops only when he sees another drop fall from the tip of the already softened cock, and the boy can finally let out a huff of relief. He looks perfect like that: completely drained of energy, light-headed, and weak, resting his back on Wooyoung's embrace and letting the boy whisper some sweet nonsense into his reddened ears.

Yes, these two are certainly a jackpot. 

Seonghwa can't take his eyes off of them, how their bodies melt into one another, how their breaths intertwine while their lips seek each other, meeting in a hungry kiss, letting their tongues speak for themselves. San's breathing calms down gradually as his chest stops rising and falling frantically, and he hides his face in the crook of Wooyoung's neck for the last time. His eyes travel back to the Officer; Seonghwa notices how consciousness returns to them and thinks that he should probably leave before this thing gets way too awkward, but the brunet fixes his gaze on his gloves. For a second, his eyes turn hazy again.

"When we agreed to follow you"—San finally says something that is not a plea for the first time today, his voice so hoarse it almost pains Seonghwa to listen to it—"you said you would give us the finest gloves of your collection."

"I did," the Officer nods.

"I don't want them. Give me these instead."

The boy can't stop himself from staring at the image of the fine black leather, all splashed with random white streaks of his cum droplets. Wouldn't Seonghwa just throw them away, considering how squeamish he is? San simply can't let this pretty memento rot in the waste chest.

"You can take it. All yours," Seonghwa agrees easily, bringing his dirty glove right in front of the brunet's nose. The realization clicks in his head instantly, and San gently bites at the hemline of the glove so as not to harm their owner and tugs at it, taking it off just like that and refusing to unclench his teeth even when he succeeds, savoring the mix of leather and his own taste on his tongue. His pliant, blissful expression is so enchanting Seonghwa barely stops himself from snatching the accessory from his lips and replacing it with his own mouth to finally get to know how this boy would feel on the tip of his tongue. But the line between them is so thin that he doesn't dare ruin the sweet fantasy for him. Not now, at least.

"I want it too," Wooyoung leans forward, his eyes fixed on the Officer's left hand, his tongue licking at the lower lip sharply from the anticipation. Seonghwa grants him a short chuckle before grabbing some cloth and quickly wiping the mess on San's lap and stomach with it and discarding it somewhere on the waste chest. The man pulls his hand close to the second boy's face, and he dives on it instantly.

Wooyoung is a sly piece of shit. He doesn't rush like his lover but softly nuzzles at the slight opening on the man's wrist, sniffing his scent and leaving a tiny little kiss on his tender skin before nibbling at the fabric and sliding it off of him. Wooyoung thinks he's in love when the picture perfect of these thin, long fingers is revealed to him, so close to his face he needs to gather all his willpower to fight the urge to bump into the pale skin of his, nuzzling at it like a love-sick kitten. He is sure he could worship these hands for hours with no other action at all, just pure bliss from being granted permission to envelop himself around this man and losing himself in his scent.

"Sweet dreams," Seonghwa whispers and allows himself to place a soft kiss on the top of each boy's heads before picking up his forgotten sword from the floor. He lingers at the doorframe just for another second to add, "If I hear you being loud again, you will regret it, and I mean it. And close the fucking door, you freaks."

He makes only a couple of steps in the hallway when he stills himself and closes his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. No need to think about anything right now; just let it go for the time being. He still has a couple of hours on his guarding post, and he sure as hell would hate to spend it all bothered. He hears Wooyoung's loud mumbling in his room and then an angry outcry from the neighboring one:

"Jung Wooyoung, I swear to God, if you don't shut it right now, I will come to your room and fuck you myself!"

The boy laughs out loud at it. "Jongho, baby, you are already late to the party! But there is always next time! Good night until then, though! Dream of me!"

"This smug piece of shit! I'm so gonna whip his ass tomorrow morning!"

"Yeah, yeah. Dream of my ass too, I guess," he mumbles, his voice small and sleepy.

"You!.."

"Jongho, stop. You can't win; just go to sleep," moans Yunho tiredly, probably woken up by the sudden skirmish.

Seonghwa lets a small smile tug on his lips for a second before he finds himself on the deck again. The dark piece of land is already on the horizon, barely minutes away from them, so he strides towards Hongjoong to ask him whether he needs a hand, but the Captain beats him to it.

"Were the kids loud again?"

The Officer nods. Hongjoong only laughs at that, stepping away from the helm and rushing towards the sails to adjust them for further anchoring. Seonghwa quietly follows him, assisting with the process to speed it up. It takes him by surprise when the other man suddenly pokes his hand with his finger and wonders:

"You don't have your gloves on?"

The unholy pictures of the last half an hour hit him again, but his face never loses its composure when he indifferently shakes his head.

"I took them off already. Didn't think I would have to do more chores today."

"Then don't," Hongjoong smiles at him and adds: "I... never thought someone like you would have such delicate hands. But that's probably why you're wearing gloves all the time. To look more intimidating."

"Is that what your fashion book is telling?"

"Nah, that's just my sharp eye," the man points toward his face, winking with his right eye that is not covered with a patch. Seonghwa never understood why he would wear it on his ship, where they had windows in the hold and there was no need to accommodate your eyesight between the blinding daylight and the darkness of the cabins. The Captain studies him intently before saying, "When we find that treasure of yours and you make me the richest man in this country, I will have only one more request."

"More requests?" smirks the Officer. "You are getting greedier day by day, Captain."

"Be my mannequin."

The little lights from the land twinkle in the pirate's eye when Seonghwa looks at him, making his expression somewhat dreamy and soft, and the man isn't sure anymore whether Hongjoong is joking or not. The Captain doesn't add anything but instead flies to the helm, directing the ship straight to the welcoming harbor. The anchoring doesn't take much time either, so when Seonghwa comes up to him to ask more about their previous conversation, the pirate only reaches his hand toward the bag with gold on the Officer's thigh and snatches it in one tug. His face lights up with a mischievous smile when he waves the bag in his hand. 

"Thank you, kind sir, for today's humble allowance! I promise that I will spend it only on wordly avocation."

The sudden guess makes Seonghwa clench his jaw in frustration.

"Are you going to get drunk again?"

"No, sir, how could you think so lowly of me!" Hongjoong knits his eyebrows dramatically, but the smirk quickly slips through his mask again. "I'm going to get hammered!"

"..."

"What?" he asks, slowly stepping backwards while looking the grim Officer straight in the eye, his lips pouting as if he were a little child, tricked by his parent. "You threw all of my liquor into the sea, so I just might use your god-like benevolence a little bit more while I still can." 

Seonghwa stays silent, but he knows that he has no grip over his crewmates' leisure time, and they are free to spend it as they wish. At least their Captain never showed any desire to sneak liquor on the ship again and cause another scene. Hongjoong already stands on the bridge when he turns around and faces the other man yet again with an unwavering smile.

"So, Officer, wanna come with me?"

The guard breathes in and out, weighing his options, but, in the end, only lets out a single huff and shakes his head.

"I trust your judgment," he says confidently, and the sound of these words makes the pirate open his mouth in astonishment for a mere second. The Officer points to the steerwheel and adds, "And I still have to guard this ship till morning; the boys are all asleep."

"Ugh, you are so boring, Seonghwa," Hongjoong massages his temples jokingly. "But don't worry, I will tell you about all the fun you missed in the morning."

The lights on the land twinkle invitingly, luring him in, so the pirate doesn't lose time and winks at the guard with that devilish smile of his before jumping off the bridge and running into the first inn he finds on his way.

Chapter Text

When Seonghwa steps on the deck in the morning, he hears that distinctive moan again: this time, it's quick and muffled, but he can still recognize the voice easily. He is almost ready to witness yet another blasphemous act before his eyes, but to his astonishment, the boys are accompanied by Hongjoong this time. The Captain holds a big safety pin in his hand that is pieced right through Wooyoung's earlobe; Hongjoong works it left and right and then in circles, as if trying to make the hole wider, and spills some rubbing alcohol on it, before taking the pin out and immediately replacing it with a silver hoop. Wooyoung lets out yet another yelp, but as soon as the pirate lends him a mirror, his face lights up.

"Hyung, it's amazing!"

"Right?" the Captain smiles with his eyes, seeing how pleased his "client" is. "I told you that it would suit you. Sannie, you next?"

San, who was holding Wooyoung's hand all this time as a support group, bit his lip in hesitation. He saw that Wooyoung wasn't bleeding or suffering from too much pain, but the sound of his voice took him off guard and made him cautious.

"I can do a single one if you are in doubt," Hongjoong suggests, noticing his anxiety, but the boy shakes his head and smiles in turn.

"No, hyung, let's do both. I want to have a couple earrings with Youngie."

Seonghwa raises his eyebrow when he notices that the boy's voice is flat and raspy, but decides not to intervene yet. What if he interrupts the procedure, Hongjoong's hand slips, and San gets hurt because of him?.. There is always a possibility, so he better watch over them from where he is for a bit more.

It doesn't take long. The Captain soaks the safety pin in a small plate of liquid, probably alcohol, and quickly leaves small coal marks on San's ears, attentively calculating where to put them so that they would look symmetrical. He grabs a cork from the bench and puts it behind the boy's ear, bringing the needle closer to the mark.

"Breathe in for me and hold your breath," the pirate orders, and as soon as he sees that the brunet stills, the needle of the pin goes through his earlobe in one precise move. San doesn't even twitch, though, only breathes out steadily when the Captain fishes out another pair of silver hoops and sterilizes them before putting the first earring on. The second one goes well too, and as soon as the pirate finishes his work, he steps back to look at the final result in all its shiny glory.

Hongjoong's smile is almost too dreamy to be deemed appropriate when he looks the couple up and down, satisfied with his work. His eyes are full of adoration and admiration, as if he is deeply enraptured by their mere existence. Is that how Seonghwa looks too when he steals glances at them?..

"It suits you so much," Wooyoung whispers to the other boy.

"You too." San smiles softly and reaches out to rest his lips just behind his lover's ear when Hongjoong slaps his shoulder.

"Hey! No kissing, no touching, you animals!" the Captain shouts at them. San looks almost scandalized by that, so he huffs loudly and explains, "It should heal before that. What if you get some infection there? Yeosang will have to cut your ears off!"

The brunet stops breathing for a second: this revelation must have ruined all his plans and aspirations to ashes. 

"Why didn't you tell us that beforehand? I can't even kiss my man right now!"

Hongjoong rolls his eyes.

"You can, just not there, alright? Be careful, don't tug on it, just... let it be for a week or so, promise?"

"Cutting off ears because of an infection: what a radical surgeon we have in our crew," Seonghwa finally decides to step in.

The boys flinch at the sudden sound of the Officer's voice, but Hongjoong only turns his head to the newcomer and smiles with his gums.

"Well, sir, it's your fault."

"Mine?" Seonghwa can't believe his ears.

"Of course," the pirate nods knowingly. "You threw away all of my rum. We could've used it to sterilize the wounds, but well, oh well—can't do that no more!"

"We don't have enough rubbing alcohol in the chest?" the Officer asks with a hint of worry.

"I suppose not if I drink it all," Hongjoong raises his eyebrows playfully, but quickly clears his throat when he sees the unamused expression on Seonghwa's face and nods at the couple that still stays seated on the bench. "I'm joking. How do you like my clients?"

Both boys raise their heads at the Officer, showing off the new jewelry that the Captain has given them. Seonghwa holds Wooyoung's chin with his fingers, turning his head left and right while he examines the neat piercings on the already reddened earlobes. San's ears turn even more scarlet when the Officer does the same to him, putting a strong hand on his nape and releasing the boy only after inspecting him properly. The puppies are indeed a couple now: the hoops in their ears are identical and shiny, as if they were their promise rings. Both of them keep silent, staring at Seonghwa and patiently waiting for his verdict with big round eyes; that look on their faces makes him almost drunk on the power he holds over them.

Oh, how he would love to make Wooyoung tug on that pretty hoop in San's ear with his tongue right now, just to see the boy's reaction.

Fuck, such a pity they don't have enough alcohol on the ship.

"I suppose you did a good job," he concludes wryly.

"Ugh, would you flame up if you complimented someone just once in your life?" Hongjoong closes his eye in indignation.

Did he just try to lecture him? Damn it, Seonghwa is losing his authority over this man way too quickly... Nevertheless, he throws one more glance at the boys, and his lips curl slightly in the corners to make his expression more amicable.

"It looks pretty," he assures them. His gaze lingers on them just a little bit more before he turns his attention to Hongjoong. "But then again, here's the question: is it your jewelry that is pretty, or are my boys just so good-looking that anything they wear suits them?"

Hongjoong bursts out laughing.

"Oh, come on, now you're overdoing it! Go, go away, both of you!" the Captain slaps the couple on their backs. "Too handsome for my jewelry, huh?"

The boys stand up, smiling, and try to leave already when Seonghwa catches Wooyoung by the wrist.

"His voice is still weak. I suppose you didn't listen to my request yesterday?"

"Oh..." the boy steps back in caution. He forgot; he did. Guilty as charged. But then again, they were so exhausted yesterday that neither of them would ever want to untangle their limbs and get up to make some stupid drink. And he knows for sure that San is alright; he always is. "I—"

"Jung Wooyoung!" they hear a low growl from behind their backs—Jongho finally woke up after a sleepless night.

"Shit," the boy squeals in Seonghwa's arms, making him chuckle lightly, before he lets go of his wrist. As soon as he feels that nothing holds him back anymore, Wooyoung runs off before Jongho would catch up with him.

"Don't run! The deck is slippery!" the Officer reprimands the cat-and-dog couple that immediately takes their argument to the cabins. San scratches his head awkwardly and decides to follow them as well to save the ass of his friend from excessive beating.

Hongjoong's chuckle is a soft melody that makes the Officer turn his head back at his Captain. He has already finished packing all of Yeosang's medical stuff into a chest and was putting the safety pin back into one of the holes on his ear that was adorned with a dozen other piercings. Did he do them all by himself too? Impossible.

"Must be hard, piercing people with one eye," Seonghwa comments.

"Huh, don't worry, Officer; I'm a pro," the man assures him. "And it doesn't bother me anyway."

Seonghwa leans forward, staring at the pirate's blank face attentively, and points the finger to his left eye.

"I've never seen you take off this eye patch. I initially thought it was for convenience only, but did you lose an eye or something?"

"No, the eye is still there. I simply don't show it," Hongjoong smiles. "You know, people from my lands consider eyes to be portals to your soul. And I don't want to grant that access just to anyone and everyone."

"Oh," Seonghwa almost took offense. "So is it something that important that you won't even share with your First Mate?"

Hongjoong huffs in amusement.

"It's something that I can share with my one and only mate. So, if you volunteer, you may take off this eye patch and seal the deal."

Seonghwa takes a step back and smiles politely.

"Got you, Captain."

"What? Scared of commitment?" Hongjoong makes fun of him for a second, but quickly brushes it off with a wave of the hand. "It's okay. Can relate."

"Alright, I agree that it was a bit unfair of me to ask for such a thing for free. Let's trade then," Seonghwa smirks. "I can show you mine, and you will show me yours."

The Officer's eyes barely light up with silver on the edges of his irises, but Hongjoong's eye gets twice larger in size from shock. He rises to his feet, unable to control the energy in his limbs from a sudden revelation; his lips tremble when he mumbles the words under his breath.

"Oh... I thought I saw it wrong."

"Saw?" Seonghwa repeats. "I never showed it to anyone on this ship. Except Yunho... and San."

But Hongjoong doesn't let him delve into it further, muttering, "So that's what you meant when you said you would order him."

Seonghwa's jaw dropped.

Did he just... Did he just admit to eavesdropping on them? No, it's not possible. Hongjoong was at the helm yesterday; there was no one to help him with the steer, so he would never leave his post and go search for adventures on the ship. But then, how did he know that?

Did someone else tell him?

Impossible; their voices were quieter than a whisper. Unless Jongho or Yunho have supernatural hearing. Seonghwa would bet on Jongho, judging by how enraged he was in the morning.

But he said he saw it.

"That treasure island that you're seeking"—Hongjoong's voice returns him to reality—"It's the one where the last Dragon clan's residence was, isn't it? The castle on the Eastern Mountains?"

It's not funny anymore.

The Officer's eyes are dead serious when he peers into Hongjoong's face, trying to read his expression and understand how to act further. Will this be too much for their agreement? Will the pirate want to step back and abort the mission whatsoever? Will he use this information against him when their contract comes to an end?

Seonghwa thinks that his face is unreadable and always boasts his ability to be unfazed in any situation. But for Hongjoong, he is an open book, his fears seeping through the slight twitching of his muscles and the movements of his eyes. They don't need to talk. They don't need to say these things out loud, at least not yet. So the Captain breathes out loudly and puts a light smile back on his face.

"Huh, Park Seonghwa, I knew you were exceptional," he mumbles while lowering his gaze to seem less intimidating for the Officer, but a sudden thought appears in his mind. "So what... Will you order me too now?"

Seonghwa shakes his head.

"I started it when I said I wanted to trade. And I don't abuse my power," he assures and adds, "Unless you want me to."

"Should I?" the man smirks, genuinely entertained by this idea. "Indeed, it would be a new experience. If you do it to me right now, next time I will know for sure when you're using your abilities against me."

Seonghwa never thought about it like that. There is some logic in that, but is it really worth it? This man must have some wicked sense of trust in Seonghwa's words.

"Try," Hongjoong dares him.

The pirate raises his chin to look Seonghwa straight in the eye, and the Officer could swear that it's the first time in his life when he feels as if someone else orders him. Nothing in this world can stop Hongjoong when he is determined to do something, so the Officer can't do anything else but comply. He feels the energy fill his guts and rise up, making his eyes light up again, this time much brighter.

"Take off the eye patch," he orders, and the pirate's eye turns silver as well for a mere second.

Hongjoong reaches with his fingers towards the tie-knot on his head and pulls on it, the eye patch falling into his hands instantly. His eyes are lowered, so Seonghwa can't see them properly just yet, but he can already notice the funny white stripe of skin on the left half of his face that was hidden from the sunlight all this time. His expression is blank, but it quickly changes to a lost one; the pirate clearly was not expecting to be so affected by Seonghwa's magic. He shuts his eyes completely and takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it afterwards. His tense, trembling lips form an unexpectedly soft smile.

"Fuck," he whispers after swallowing a lump in his throat. "This is... This is..."

"Liberating, right?" Seonghwa helps him with wording.

"It's as if I'm drunk without drinking," the pirate explains, his expression completely relaxed. "Like, my tongue is not numb, my breath is not stinky, my stomach doesn't hurt, but at the same time, my head is so light, like after a couple of bottles of rum."

Seonghwa bats his eyelashes, finding it hard to believe his ears.

"I've never heard anyone describe it as that."

"It's just that there're no alcoholics like me around you, Park Seonghwa," Hongjoong chuckles and lifts his eyes up.

The little smile that was forming in the corner of the Officer's lips instantly faded. He had to blink a couple of times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Hongjoong's eye, the left one that was hidden under the eye patch before, was emerald-green. He heard that some people are indeed born with such a “defect”, but seeing it now with his very eyes, he would never dare to call it ugly. Why would he even hide it? Unless there is a clear reason for it.

"It's.... green?" is the only thing that Seonghwa manages to say out loud.

"You are very observant, Officer," Hongjoong smirks.

"Do you wield magic?"

Yes, that is the only possible reason for keeping it a secret. Just as Seonghwa's eyes turn silver when he uses his powers, Hongjoong must have a similar mark that would showcase his abilities visually.

"Should I be honest because you were?" the pirate hums in doubt but quickly answers, "I don't. This eye is a symbol of a blessing and a curse. There are a lot of people like this in the Fields. They are considered to be envoys of the Mother Earth with a natural talent for presage."

"So you're an oracle? Like Governor Kim's mother?" Seonghwa knits his eyebrows. "Are there really so many people like you on your lands?"

Hongjoong shrugs his shoulders and turns his face towards the bright sun; the feeling of warm sun rays on the left half of his face is so pleasant, it's almost ticklish. Liberating, huh? Seonghwa's right. Letting go and being yourself is liberating.

"I don't know why, but the legend says that the eye of the Mother helps us understand her better," the pirate mumbles with his eyes closed. He breathes in and out and faces Seonghwa again. Continues, "Thus, for us, it became a sign of a born agrarian, who is able to foresee the adversities of nature and protect her and her residents. To put it simply, folks in the Fields take advantage of it and use these people to predict the weather conditions or make harvesting easier."

Harvesting? The whole country should indeed be thankful to the southern region for being the main provider of the whole kingdom, but apparently even this sphere is influenced by magic too. Incredible. 

"Huh, so it's not like in the Pool, where oracles are more of a spiritual guide rather than an... economic one."

"Yes. Although"—Hongjoong hesitates before continuing but says it anyway—"there are also those who are of no use to agrarians. You see, some individuals may be born with both eyes being green."

"Do they possess even more power?"

"Yes and no. The most frank answer would be—we don't know," the Captain chuckles lightly. "As I said, being green-eyed is both a blessing and a curse. So these poor souls carry twice the burden on their shoulders. They are born... different: they rarely speak, and even if they do, they mostly talk gibberish; they can act weird, as if they have gone nuts; they don't care about the world around them. People call them freaks and lunatics, although they bring luck to the lands where they reside, so no one will ever try to harm them or drive them away. I suppose their souls are so struck with the powers they possess that it literally makes them lose their minds..."

Hongjoong purses his lips, his expression sad and sympathetic. Power does not equal authority, and neither does it mean happiness nor fulfillment. You can be the most blessed soul in the world, but it may bring you only misfortune. Maybe that is why Hongjoong rarely uses his powers intentionally: he's afraid they will turn out to be cheese in the mousetrap that will bring him only closer to his demise.

"Do you feel this way too?" Seonghwa asks, his voice quiet and gentle. "I mean, you said it's a curse for you too."

"Those like me are short-lived species, Officer," Hongjoong confesses after some time. "Not because I'm irresponsible or careless, but rather because humans hate those who have power over them. You must know what I mean... Sometimes I saw things that I never meant to witness, but I did anyway, so people got offended easily because of me unwillingly sticking my nose in their private matters. And then there're also those who desire to abuse this power, so they abduct the green-eyed and keep them enslaved to access the secret knowledge about the future. It's more or less safe for us in the Fields, where being green-eyed is more common, but here, in the open world, I'm a target."

"Why did you leave then?" the Officer wonders.

"I hated that place. I wasn't born to do agriculture and trade," he replies honestly. The reason is so simple and yet so stupid. To risk your life just because you're bored. Wait a minute... Isn't that basically what Seonghwa is doing now too?..

The pirate plays with the safety pin in his ear and adds, "Moreover, I saw things that made me pursue this path. It's much more exciting that way. Even if it’s short."

The last sentence makes Seonghwa clench his hand into a fist. He doesn't know why it makes him emotional, but he finally understands why this man followed him so easily. He is out of his mind, and that day, he saw that glimpse of craziness in Seonghwa's eyes too. He found exactly what he was looking for: an adventure of his lifetime. Do or die.

"What did you see?" Seonghwa asks, not expecting the pirate to answer, but he still takes a step closer to him with an all-knowing soft smile on his lips.

"Can't tell you, Officer. But, I suppose, there's one thing that you should know." Hongjoong leans towards his ear, whispering barely audibly, "There's a rat in your team. And maybe not even one."

Seonghwa's heart stops for a second. He agrees that he was careless when picking his crew, but he had no other choice. Any other guard or renowned marine could be a spy sent by the Governor, who lately seems to be extra suspicious in Seonghwa's presence. There's already Jongho on his team, but Yunho assured him to keep an eye on the young prodigy and report as soon as their Navigator would abuse his power. Did Yunho miss something? Did that boy succeed in his mission so swiftly that neither of them noticed it?

"Actually, now that I thought about it, your whole team is full of rats," Hongjoong continues, but steps away to let the man breathe. "It's almost as if you do it on purpose. Do you seek death, Officer? Is that why you look for an island that sank underwater centuries ago?"

Seonghwa closes his eyes, and by the moment he opens them, he already regains his composure and gifts the other man a tiny smile when he answers.

"Why do you think I will show all my cards to a person who still hides the aces up his sleeve?"

"Sir! Jongho has gone nuts! I can't get into our cabin. It's as if he barricaded it from the inside and— Oh my God!" San freezes in his place, his jaw dropping when he notices their Captain without his usual eye patch. The boy raises his arm, pointing a finger towards Hongjoong in utter shock. "He... he has heterophobia in his eyes."

Hongjoong bites his lip so as not to burst out laughing, but the Officer does it for him, the sound of his amused chuckle so unusual to the crew members' ears that both of them stare at Seonghwa as if he's gone crazy.

"Indeed, Sannie, he does," the Officer agrees after he manages to take his laughter under control. He puts a hand on San's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "But you have to promise me you won't tell anyone about it. Even Wooyoung."

San shoots a quick glance towards Hongjoong and nods a couple of times to assure both men that their secret is safe with him. 

"Thank you," the pirate smiles at him, putting an eye patch back on so that no one else would see him like that.

Seonghwa taps the boy in the chest lightly to grab his attention.

"Cmon, let's save Wooyoungie now."

***

"Still hurts?"

Wooyoung weeps quietly into the pillow and nods quickly-quickly, clenching the bedsheet in his fist. When Jongho said he would whip his ass, he really meant it; Seonghwa would never think that it's possible to leave such obscene marks with your hand alone, but apparently those old gossips about Jongho splitting a whole box of apples with his bare hands are true. Now, San was spreading the ointment on his reddened, bruised skin, blowing on it slightly to take away the pain.

"He had no right to punish you. Or any other member of the crew," Seonghwa clenches his jaws in frustration. "Hongjoong will deal with him; don't worry. And we will switch rooms so that this will never happen again."

"Thank you," Wooyoung whispers.

"Wanna help?" San asks the Officer, holding the ointment jar in the air.

If that question was posed to him at least a week ago, he would huff sarcastically and whip the querier for being so shameless with his requests. But not now. And not with these two boys, who have been nothing but good for him, despite any unintended fuckups that they may have caused along the way.

Seonghwa takes off his right glove (San almost leans forward to help him with it, craving for the sensation of the pretty lace frill that adorns its leather) and leaves it somewhere on the drawer before occupying the space on the other side of the cot and dipping his fingers into the mushy texture of the ointment. Wooyoung's right ass cheek is much less bruised, so Seonghwa can already vividly imagine how Jongho was holding him to leave the marks in such a way. Poor boy, his skin is too tender for such a treatment.

Wooyoung's skin is hot and velvet-like, but the Officer can still feel the jolts of lightning biting on his fingertips when he touches him for the first time. The sensation of the other person's skin against his is unusual and strange, but he would never dare to deem it disgusting. In fact, the idea of this boy being so open to him makes his chest warmer and heavier.

"I get why he did it. That ass is too perfect; it probably was driving him insane," Seonghwa comments while spreading the medicine lightly all over the swollen marks. He can swear that he notices Wooyoung arch his back slightly more for him to have even a better view of it, and he barely stops himself from slapping the tease too.

"Thank you, sir. I think so too," the boy muses while turning his head towards the Officer. His eyes are closed in pure bliss from the gentle massage San is giving his back in order to divert his attention from the stinging pain. He mumbles, "You know, I'm not new to it. And neither is San. We were beaten a lot of times before, but... not like that."

"Who beat you?" Seonghwa asks, his voice barely concealing his anger.

"The people who thought they owned us if we worked for them."

"Did you return them the favor?"

"Oh, we did," Wooyoung smiles widely, remembering how the two of them crashed that damned tavern to shatters after the owner had sold one of his potboys for a night to his guest.

*

*

*

None of them recalls their childhood. The memory that both of them call their first had the scent of decomposition; the dirt and sweat were biting on their bleeding bruises; their outstretched palms were always empty, as were their stomachs; and even the scorching summer sunlight was punishing them for daring to exist in this world. There were different kinds of people that passed by them: those who didn't care, those who cried out empathetically only to forget about them the next second, and those... who saw the opportunity in them.

They remember the taste of that sweet potato that some man tossed them with an ugly smile on his face. It was everything—the salvation, the hope, the chance to survive a little bit more to be able to get a new chance the next day. Day by day. Until luck runs out and that rotting smell will cover their bodies too.

They remember how he looked into their faces when they devoured his alms, how the gears were spinning in his head when he calculated the profits, how he stretched out his hand again—an empty one—but promised to give them something more, something better than that. And oh, they would be crazy to refuse!

Wooyoung doesn't regret that choice. After all, that man gave them a lot; however, he didn't lose anything either. He ran a small tavern on the outskirts of the River Valley, but even so, there was quite a lot of work to do for one man. So, instead of paying real workers who would cost him an arm and a leg, he did what was extremely popular among small business owners: picked up the free working force straight from the streets, which would kill to work for food.

The kids were learning fast and were quick-witted, always ready to please their savior and cater to any of his requests. But no matter how hard they tried, there wasn't a week in their lives when they weren't beaten for their shortcomings: San not bowing to the customer and not cleaning the tables thoroughly or Wooyoung dropping the plate with refreshments, the soup splashing on some young master's extremely expensive attire. They were kids, so it was only natural for them to be less attentive or weaker physically, but no one cares about your age when you enter this weird relationship where you have no other rights except to be a good servant.

Wooyoung knew that they sold their souls for that sweet potato.

The beating was bearable (after all, they had to be in a condition to work the next day), and the owner was even kind enough to not refuse them the leftovers. That was one of the tricks that he learned from training his dogs: you beat it to show it its place, and then feed it to show it your mercy.

It's just another lesson for you to learn, nothing more.

So the years passed, and that life taught them so many lessons that Wooyoung doubted anything would ever surprise him. He remembers when one day the owner asked him to step off his duty in the kitchen and cater to their special guest. Wooyoung's shins felt a ghostly ping of pain immediately, remembering that one time when he made another "special guest" sad by serving him the wrong type of beer. The marks were gone from his skin quite quickly, but the memory of the pain never faded. After all, the lessons always worked on him perfectly, so this time he was determined to show the best service he was capable of.

Except that that customer never required assistance with his repast but rather sought company. Quite a strange choice for an establishment, if you ask Wooyoung, because a nice brothel was just around the corner, ready to accept any lost soul in its loving embrace. He understood later why. Precisely at that moment when he felt the stranger's hand slide up his thigh.

He remembers how stupid he was, thinking that he still had to act nice in front of such a dear customer, to bow politely, to apologize for the misunderstanding, to get up and head towards the door. He didn't know why that person was smiling so wickedly but still letting him leave, and then he pulled the handle only to notice that the door was locked from the outside. He asked, and he knocked, and he banged the damned piece of wood, but the door stayed closed just the way it was before.

The painful tug on his hair and the sharp, cold tip of the butter knife under his chin finally made him realize that it was all real and happening to him at this very moment. He felt the stinky breath near his ear: that man was whispering something to him, but he never heard a word, so lost in his own silent hysteria that was swallowing him alive. Maybe it was exactly what saved his life and sanity because the stranger mistook his shock for obedience and discarded the knife, only to use that hand to undo the buttons on the boy's shirt.

The cling of the metal against the wooden floor was deafening; it rang through his ears like a church bell, waking up his numb mind right when the man was licking a thick stripe of skin on his neck. His guts were twisting, and he felt like throwing up, and probably the sight of him spilling his breakfast back on the plate would have displeased the guest to the point where he would've left him alone, but Wooyoung wasn't sure about that plan.

So he hit him. Once, with his elbow. And twice, with his forearm. And thrice, with his fist. And then, when he was out of the stronghold and even picked up the forgotten knife from the floor, the man only laughed at him through the slightly pained expression. He knew Wooyoung would never have the guts to hurt the guest, and even more, the big shot this man probably was, judging by his tailored uniform. Moreover, the door was still closed, so he had nowhere to run. He was just making it worse for himself by struggling. That's what that man told him, creeping closer to him slowly, ready to attack yet again, this time for good.

So the choice was easy.

The thing that this man didn't know was the fact that Wooyoung was a diehard. They were on the third floor, and although the ceilings were pretty low, they were still quite high above the ground. For a normal person. Not for Wooyoung, who was so high on adrenaline that he jumped out of the window the moment he saw the opportunity, grouping his body in a ball to protect his head and land more or less safely, rolling to his side.

It surprised him that he didn't feel any pain except for the persistent nausea that haunted him with the smell of that man that stuck to his skin. Limping, he did the exact opposite any sane person would do in this situation: he walked back into the tavern. When the owner saw him, his face turned white. He knew he fucked up, but he never thought that Wooyoung would escape so easily and come back to throw tantrum right when the tavern was packed with people.

Wooyoung's angry growl made everyone freeze in their places, but when they noticed the knife in his hand that he pointed straight at their master, a good half of the establishment ran out of the tavern screaming, even though the boy hadn't done anything just yet. He remembers the look of horror on San's face when he saw him and understood everything instantly. He remembers how the tray in his hands flew right into the owner's face, knocking him out in one blow. He remembers how some men tried to hold them back when they were turning over the tables and breaking everything they could lay their hands on. He remembers the red tint of blood on his knuckles, the same shade covering his and San's faces, thanks to the painful blows from the enraged customers. He remembers how someone was pushed to the wall, and the momentum made one of the candles fall on the wooden floor, catching everything on fire in the span of a second.

He remembers San's hand in his when he dragged him out of the building and further into the streets, how they ran, and ran, and ran, up until they saw a city wall in front of them, San helping him climb over it before the guards would notice them trespassing the territory of a whole different region. He led Wooyoung straight to the river bank, the smell of water soothing his mind quickly when they fell straight on the grass, hidden behind some trees. The brunet dipped his free hand in the water, cooling Wooyoung's face with it afterwards and wiping the sweat, and blood, and tears from it.

"You should cry if you want to," was the first thing that the boy said, softly caressing Wooyoung's cheek with his thumb. "Don't fight it. It's okay. You know that I cry often too."

Wooyoung didn't know how much time had passed when they were sitting there—his face hidden in the crook of San's neck while the boy stroked his back soothingly and patted his hair. San's breathing could be his lullaby, but he knew something was wrong, so he couldn't let himself relax just yet. Not like that when he still stinks like that man.

"I should take a dip," he mumbled, taking a quick look at his half-open shirt and feeling the nausea wash over him yet again. He needed these clothes off of his skin immediately if he wanted to remain sane.

Never in his life did he undress as quickly as then; the feeling of salty air and the warm rays of the sun hiding on the horizon kissing his skin were so liberating that he didn't think twice before taking a step forward into the cool water. He turned around only after a couple of steps, noticing that San had been staring at the grass all this time. What's so interesting about it?

"You're keeping your eyes down," he noted.

"I am," the other boy cleared his throat. It was almost amusing to witness him like that, but Wooyoung still took two more steps and stopped when the water was already at his waist level.

"Didn't know you were that shy. We share a bath every day; why are you suddenly like that?" Wooyoung reprimanded him, running his wet hands all over his neck to scrub off the sticky marks on his skin.

The other boy shook his head stubbornly.

"You never said I could watch. You are taking a dip, and I'm sitting at the shore. It's weird to stare."

"Then why are you still sitting there?" the boy tried to smile, tilting his head to the side like a curious kid, when San looked up immediately after hearing his words.

San is better than him. In many ways, actually, but in this particularly: Wooyoung is impudent to the very last cell of his being. When San patiently waits for his consent, Wooyoung doesn't need any permission to stare. His face almost turned displeased when the boy finally ended up near him, and the water hid a good half of his body away from Wooyoung's prying eyes.

"We are butt-naked in the river. Anyone can see us," San suddenly said, cooling his hot skin by splashing it with water.

"So you like it or you hate it?" the other boy laughed.

"I will do anything you like. You decide."

It's so like San: to let go of any means of control and make Wooyoung feel drunk just by giving it all to him. The trust they learned to share all these years was like a warm blanket that comforted Wooyoung every time he was at his lowest, so he would never dare to betray it. He pulled on San's hand, leading him to a big piece of rock that hid them from any potential lurkers almost completely. However, the level of water was slightly lower here, so he quickly caught the boy staring at the way the water hugged his body just below his belly button.

"Am I pretty?" Wooyoung batted his eyelashes, and it didn't take San even a second to nod, his eyes never daring to look away from the water drop covered skin. "I guess I am if he paid for me."

"I hope he burns down along with that damned tavern," the brunet spat through his teeth. Hearing that out loud made Wooyoung feel good, but he still bit his lip hesitantly.

"Maybe it was my fault after all?"

San's eyes instantly shot towards his face.

"Don't even dare to think like that," he growled in Wooyoung's ear, trapping the boy with both of his palms resting on the rock behind him. Is it really a trap, though, if he instantly felt safer than he had ever been? "Besides, he's old enough to be your grandpa; what the actual fuck..."

Wooyoung nodded instead of answering. He's right. San is always right, so there's no need to even dwell on it further. The familiar heat and smell filled the space around him, finally soothing his anxious mind, but the inches of air between them were maddening, so Wooyoung whined in frustration.

"You can touch me," he let asked. "I can see how you flex your arms, holding back. Please, don't."

"Can I, though?" San breathed through his nose loudly but listened to the request, immediately wrapping himself around the boy, his arms a perfect belt around his waist. "You said you wanted to take a dip, but now I'm in a way." 

"It's so cold here," the boy explained, snuggling closer. "And you feel so warm, like home. Like home that I never had..."

None of them knows the meaning of this word, but the very sound of it made San's stomach hurt because of an unexplainable prick of affection. He could kill for a "home", but Wooyoung gave it to him so easily that his head was slowly becoming lighter second by second, ready to drown him in the tide of sweet and sour feelings. 

"Is it better now?" San asked, slowly stroking the bruised skin on the boy's sides, and got a hum in response.

"Yeah. But my lips are still freezing. Can... you kiss me?"

He instantly felt so much better when their bodies finally melted into each other completely, the other boy's lips giving him all the heat he had till the very last breath. Loving San is easy, and being loved by him is a blessing that Wooyoung was ready to take full advantage of until he got sick of him. He hopes this moment never comes because his heart hurts so bad just from the mere thought of letting go.

"Fuck that tavern," Wooyoung mumbled right into the other boy's lips while trying to steal more kisses. "Fuck that douchebag. And fuck all the people who ever tried to use us. I... will never listen to anyone's orders ever again."

San nodded in agreement, holding the boy closer to him and whispering, "The only order I will take will be from you."

That damned place was in ruins, and San's hands were so perfect on his skin that Wooyoung would never dare ask for something more. Revenge has never felt so hot to him, boiling deep inside his body and making him even more insatiable for the pretty, thin lips of his lover, whose only desire was to make Wooyoung feel better. To erase all of the shit that ever happened to him with a hot, wet tongue that was leaving his signatures on the other boy's skin. To mark the start of a new page where no one would ever dare own either of them. They belonged to each other; had anyone ever broken this rule, they should perish for even daring to wish for it.

*

*

*

Seonghwa closes the ointment jar with a loud plop, and Wooyoung shudders from the sound, turning towards the man and seeing literal flames of fire in his eyes. The Officer looks even more pissed than he was before, his jaw tense when he wipes his hand against the bedsheet and tosses the medicine on the drawer.

"Why did you follow me?" he asks in a whisper. "How am I different from that fucker who put a sweet potato in your hands?"

Wooyoung relaxes after hearing the question and smiles at him warmly.

"You apologized," he explains easily. "Sometimes, it's the only thing that you need. Respect and balls to own up to your mistakes."

That's such a dumb explanation.

Seriously, who would ever let go of all the grudges just because of an apology? But then again, he left them rather quickly, so he should probably thank Yunho for smoothing out all the kinks of his awful first impression. It's always Yunho saving his butt.

"Dunno whether it's your hands or the ointment, but I feel much better," Wooyoung murmurs like a drowsy kitten after a bowl of warm milk. "Thank you. Both of you."

The corner of San's mouth curves into a soft smile when he pats the boy's hair lightly instead of answering, but Seonghwa huffs at him.

"You are rather thankful today," the Officer notes.

Wooyoung pouts, hearing a not quite pleasant subtext in his words.

"I'm always polite, sir," he sulks. "Please, don't think bad of me."

"Never," Seonghwa promises and lands a soft kiss on the boy's nape that makes him purr with affection.

Feeling physical pain is always awful, but it must be really unbearable for such a tactile person as Wooyoung. His body sings at every little touch he receives, always so open, always so inviting, so the thought of him being abused in the most vulnerable way makes Seonghwa's blood boil. He will kill Jongho.

"You should kiss him," San interrupts his thoughts, and he almost wants to beg pardon but finally understands what he meant.

"But I just did," he reminds him.

"Not like that," the brunet rolls his eyes. "Look at him; doesn't he deserve it?"

"He does. He deserves the whole fucking world," he wants to answer, but bites his tongue to preserve the last bits of his pride.

Wooyoung's eyes are round and cat-like, so seemingly innocent that the Officer almost wants to tell him to drop the act. Was that their plan all along—to make him careless enough to finally put his guard down? Is that what Hongjoong was talking about when he said his whole team was holding grudges against him? Can all of this be a ploy too? But then, why would anyone do it in such a roundabout way?..

"You're thinking too much, Officer," Wooyoung mumbles, rising up on his elbow. His eyes fix on a light strand of hair that falls on Seonghwa's face, and his hands itch with an urge to fix it for him, to finally be able to touch him, even if it's just for a mere second. But he knows that he's not allowed to, so the boy only smiles at him lightly. "You can refuse me; it's okay. We all know how fastidious you are. And you don't owe us anything. You must feel a bit guilty for what Jongho did to me, but please, don't. He's right. I was being a pain in the ass and woke him up. So—"

"You want me to shut you up so bad that you're just blabbering anything that comes to mind, right?" Seonghwa sighs, raising his eyebrows, and the boy bites his lip sheepishly.

"It's so obvious?"

It isn't a crime to want to cater to this boy's wishes, especially when you share them. How could he even assume that Seonghwa would deny him such a simple request when he was barely holding on from doing it last time he was here? The velvety feeling on his lips after finally granting Wooyoung his affection is irritating to a point that the Officer tugs on it with his teeth, sucking on the inviting plumpness and lightly guiding a trail on it with a tip of his tongue just to mark his territory. 

Fuck, these are the most perfect lips he ever kissed. 

Seonghwa could eat him whole in a single bite at this very moment, but he knew he shouldn't; the cool air on his lips felt almost torturous when he decided to stop when he still could.

"Get well, pretty boy," he murmurs into Wooyoung's skin before letting go.

The other boy looks up at him stepping away with gleams of hope in his eyes, and Seonghwa guesses his thoughts immediately. His mouth opens up unconsciously the moment the Officer lifts his chin up. So easy to read, so easy to please, his throat letting out a pathetic sound when Seonghwa covers his mouth with his own.

Seonghwa was never particularly interested in people around him, but these two are too soft to ignore. He wishes he could give them more than the bits of his affection, but he has nothing else to give. Yet. Maybe, if that changes after their journey turns out to be a success, he can give them home after all? Can he?..

Chapter Text

The sight of Jongho on his knees lifts up Seonghwa's mood a little bit: he stands in the center of the deck, scorching sunlight falling on his head and bare skin and frying it torturously slowly with no chance to hide from it in the shade. Later, Seonghwa notices some weird stuff that is scattered under his feet and hums doubtfully, "Buckwheat?"

"I know, I know," Hongjoong stops him from further questions. "It's not as sophisticated as you are probably accustomed to, but it does the job just as well. Besides, I wouldn't dare harm any of the Guards for real. What if they book me for good when we come back? Don't wanna make my new life any shorter, you know."

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but deep down he appreciates Hongjoong's attitude; had it been up to him, he would've probably let the emotions take over him. The Captain, as a just third party, chose an equally proportional punishment to create the same stinging inconvenience for the offender, except that it concentrated on his hot head and his knees instead, which were tortured by the sharp seeds of buckwheat. Painful and humiliating—just perfect.

"You should thank God that you are our navigator, and I can't cane your palms until they bleed," the Officer leans down to face Jongho properly, but notices that his eyes are clouded and barely register anything around him. Another hour like that, and he will faint from a sunstroke for sure.

The boy opens his dry lips and, for a couple of seconds, tries to catch his breath before mouthing a weak: "I'm sorry, sir."

"Naturally," Seonghwa agrees. He stands straight again and puts his palm on Jongho's shoulder, squeezing it lightly to make sure that he has his attention. "You can use my cabin from now on. I hope you have a good sleep and stop terrorizing your crewmates. When we come back, I will enroll you in additional training sessions to make sure you understand the meaning of the word 'hierarchy' when it comes to authority on the ship."

"Yes, sir," the boy answers immediately.

The Officer lets him be and instead approaches Hongjoong, who raises his eyebrows with a silent question.

"Ten more minutes will do," Seonghwa mutters under his breath so that Jongho won't hear him. "Then send him to our cabin and give him plenty of water. Call Yeosang too, just in case. I don't want to lose my people just to prove a point."

"What about our cabin, though? Why didn't you ask me before deciding? Aren't I a higher authority on this ship? Want to learn a thing or two about 'hierarchy', Officer?" the pirate smirks, playfully mimicking the other man.

"You never use it anyway," Seonghwa brushes him off. "Moreover, you decided not to tell me who I should be cautious of, so it's only natural that I would disregard your opinion as well."

The Captain laughs fakely, throwing his head back.

"Oh no, you're already trying to use me, huh? If you were listening to me attentively, you would know what I meant."

"You told me that my team is full of rats. Does that mean—"

"No one on this ship was chosen by you. Instead, they made you think that it was your decision when, in reality, they simply followed along for this or that reason. So, until you know it, trust no one, Officer," Hongjoong explains. Seonghwa's face darkens, and his chest suddenly hurts from the implication behind these words.

"What about you?" he asks, his expression dead serious.

Hongjoong looks him in the eyes, showing a soft, gummy smile.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm number one on the naughty boys' list."

"What the hell is that?" both of them hear a concerned mumble from behind their backs and see Yunho pointing somewhere to the west.

Seonghwa almost jokes about yet another crew member being hit by a sunstroke, but Hongjoong tenses near him too. When they look closer, they finally notice the anomaly: right there, where Yunho is pointing, the water looks almost transparent, to the point that Seonghwa can clearly see the brown sand on the bottom. The Captain immediately steers the wheel to make the ship head towards that peculiar spot when Seonghwa puts a hand on his forearm.

"Do what I said," he reminds, nodding at Jongho. "It's okay. I will check it."

This may be the first time Hongjoong is reluctant to fulfill the Officer's request. He sincerely doubts that it is "okay" to leave everything to Seonghwa alone, but the sooner he deals with Jongho, the quicker he will return, so the pirate hands the steer to the Officer and turns around on his heels, heading to the barely conscious boy who still manages to keep his back proud and straight.

"C’mon, boy. I'm taking you away." Hongjoong slaps him on the shoulder, urging him to get up, but Jongho only stubbornly shakes his head.

"I'm alright," he mumbles through gritted teeth. "I can stand here as long as needed. I don't need your pity."

The Captain massages his temples in irritation.

"Yeah, you really need those sessions that your Officer was talking about," Hongjoong mutters, and the next second he grips the boy's hair, yanking him off the ground with a short scream of pain. Jongho stands on one leg to lessen the sharp sensation, but the pirate tugs on it yet again, bringing the boy closer to him, and adds, "On this ship, my word is an order. So only I can decide when you are done with your punishment. And I'm saying: stand the fuck up and come with me."

Jongho swallows a lump in his throat and quietly complies, finally rising to his feet, when the Captain puts the boy's arm over his shoulders and holds his side to help him walk faster.

"I can go myself—"

"Shut your mouth, rascal!" Hongjoong barks at him and then yells as soon as he enters the hold, "Yeosang, come out! You finally have a job, hooray! San, swab the deck! Wooyoung, fill my pipe. I'm so stressed because of all of you, holy sea gods..."

Seonghwa lets out a sigh of relief once the men disappear from his line of sight. But as one problem finally resolves, Yunho is quick to point out a different one.

"Is it safe to head straight into this thing?" the Boatswain wonders.

"I'm not going anywhere."

The Officer was spinning the helm back and forth vigorously, and a random bystander would suppose that the man was throwing a tantrum right on his duty, but Yunho understood everything instantly.

"Emergency halting?"

...and as soon as he said it, the whole ship creaked loudly and shook, making all of the men on the deck fall down. If Seonghwa and Yunho were used to unexpected situations like this one, San (who just happened to come out of the cabins to fulfill the Captain's order and clean the deck from the remnants of buckwheat) fell face down and almost got yoinked from the ship overboard. The aggressive momentum ceased, and the Officer carefully looked around, noticing a couple of fallen men and (thank God) a non-capsized ship.

"Everyone alright?" Seonghwa shouts loudly and sees a couple of hands rise up in the air, showing "okay" signs.

"We ran aground," Yunho states matter-of-factly. Mingi lends him his hand and lifts the Guard on his feet, after which Yunho immediately rushes to look at the wrecking spot. Unfortunately, nothing can be seen clearly from where they are.

"Aground?" San doubts, still palming his forehead while looking around. "In the middle of an ocean?"

"Maybe something is wrong with the ship?" the Guard grits his teeth, clearly nervous because of this whole situation.

"I will check the keel," Mingi nods, immediately setting out to climb down, but Yunho stops him for a second.

"Be careful," he reminds.

Their Carpenter's smile is almost cat-like when he silently climbs down the rope ladder and assesses the state of their vessel along the way. His movements are precise and attentive because he doesn't want to miss any potential breaches, but as he proceeds further, his brows knit more and more. Finally, he doubtfully hums and plunges into the water, swimming closer to the bow of the ship.

"HEY!" Yunho barks at him. "I just told you to watch out!"

"It's alright," Mingi waves him off. "I gotta dive deeper and see what's under water because it doesn't make sense..."

And with that, his red head disappeared under the water surface. Ten seconds, twenty seconds... When it almost reaches a minute, not only the Boatswain but all of the crew on the deck starts panicking. Seonghwa breathes out only when the man finally appears again, spitting out water and rubbing his eyes.

"Well, clearly, we ain't grounded," Mingi concludes. "But we definitely crashed into some kind of a... rock? Look!"

Just under their figurehead, Mingi splashes water with his hand and then suddenly pulls up on it and sits, as if it's the most normal thing to do. He then proceeds with his showcase and stands on his feet firmly, the water barely reaching his knees.

"Is that Jesus? Why does he walk on water?" Hongjoong asks all of a sudden and almost lets go of his pipe because of the shocking image in front of him.

"A rock? A rock underwater?.." San gasps and rushes to the head as well. Mingi throws a little performance for them, jumping on the newly found surface up and down like an excited puppy.

While everyone is occupied with picking their jaws from the ground, Yunho puts his hand on the Officer's shoulder, tugging on it to get his attention. 

"Do you think it's the mountain ridge of the eastern part of the island?" he asks in a whisper.

If that is the case, it means that their destination is somewhere nearby. Can it be so? That he is finally... so close?

"Sir?" the Carpenter shouts at Seonghwa, scratching his head.

"What is it, Mingi?" he turns to the redhead yet again.

"There is... a treasure chest under our ship," he mumbles hesitantly, but everyone's faces light up right away. "I suppose we landed right on it, and the sharp edge of the keel slashed through it and dented it into the rock. Hand me my instrument; I will fetch it."

Everyone on the deck starts fidgeting after hearing these words. In fact, they are so excited that Seonghwa is almost sure that even the rest of the boys in the cabins know about the news now. Once he is done, Mingi secures the chest with the rope, and they pull it up, with the Carpenter climbing up next. The delicate metal of the treasure chest is all smashed, so they are able to open it only with a saw that ruthlessly slashes through the intricate metalwork until their eyes are finally blessed with the sight of countless stones, gems, and jewelry that twinkle in the sunlight.

"That's..." San opens his mouth but closes it immediately so as not to salivate right on this unbelievable treasure.

"Minerals?" Wooyoung asks doubtfully. He was right after all; they were so loud, even the resting crewmates came out to see what's happening. 

"Right up my street! You can pay me with this, Officer," Hongjoong smiles widely, his eye glued to the gemstones. Right at this moment, he is probably mulling over how he could use them for his unique clothing and jewelry pieces, so to test the authenticity of the treasure, he holds out his arm, almost ready to grab a handful of gems, when the Officer slaps his hand.

"Don't touch!" he warns.

The Captain sulks immediately, pouting like a child, even though he understands what the other man implies: both of them are acquainted with magic, and both of them know that precious things must be protected. Hongjoong doesn't see magic, but Seonghwa is a whole different thing, considering that the potential protection mechanism that they may encounter is one of his ancestors. The frown on the Officer's face tells Hongjoong that something is indeed not right.

"Do you hear anything?" Seonghwa asks hesitantly.

"Like... you talking?" Hongjoong huffs.

"No," the man bites back. "The whisper."

The whisper? Could it be the siren's treasure?? Are they all doomed for cracking it open???

"You can hear them? The stones?" Yunho guesses, but the realization still makes his eyes become twice as big from astonishment.

Yeosang shakes his head, immediately touching the Officer's forehead to check the temperature of his body, and tsks, "Not good. That's a third sunstroke of the day."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Seonghwa grits his teeth, and the Surgeon steps away, hiding in the crowd of other men.

"Shall we leave you alone?" Hongjoong asks, figuring that all the explanations right now will enrage the man even more, so the crew shall wait until he is ready to open up about his identity.

"No, it's..." the Officer hesitates. "It's not the right time for that. We should ask for help first. Someone will have to sail to the dock on the boat and bring help here."

The Captain rolls his eyes.

"We can tune the sails and let the wind take us instead. No need to worry."

"We can't risk sailing with a potential breach," Seonghwa explains. He turns his head towards the bow of the ship and bites his lip nervously. "Besides, there's something fishy with this rock. I don't think we should leave this place. In fact, I'm almost sure that this is exactly where we should be."

If it indeed is the top of the mountain, the eastern twin of the one that he saw in the Ridge, it will guide him home. The rocks covered with water that should lead him to where he belongs...

It's the beginning of the end. Hongjoong feels the chills run down his spine from this thought, but he still can't fathom whether he is more excited or afraid of what is to come. Roaming the seas with his previous crew was a walk in the park compared to this one, precisely due to the fact that they never had to deal with magic stuff before. It is never easy for him to rely on anyone, but he can make an exception when it comes to Park Seonghwa and his gut feeling.

"Alright, then who do you want to send away?" the Captain agrees.

That's a dilemma. Seonghwa almost feels like he's at school once again and tries to find the answer to the fox, chicken, and grain riddle.

"Well, both of us shall stay here," he decides. "The same goes to Wooyoung and San—they are useless on that boat. Jongho is resting, and Yeosang is attending to him. Mingi is our only carpenter. That means that it should be Yunh—"

"No, sir, I will not leave you," the guard refuses to follow the order. "I shall board that boat only if you come with me."

Seonghwa rolls his eyes in irritation. 

"You know that I can't. And you are no little boy. If you get lost in the sea so easily, then maybe I shouldn't have brought you here in the first place."

"You can say whatever you want, sir, but that won't change my answer."

"I will do it," they hear a voice behind their backs.

"Jongho?" The Officer raises his eyebrows. "Why are you up?"

The young guard scratched his ear and huffed lightly.

"You were loud, and I got curious. Now, let me finally be of help, and send me away already."

"I object!" Yeosang raises his arm high in the air. "Sunstrokes are always unpredictable. Anything can happen when he's all alone out there."

"Then you can keep me company," Jongho reacts quickly. "Deal?"

Letting Jongho go is both a blessing and a curse at the same time. Given the title of "the most suspicious crew member", Jongho was constantly on Seonghwa's radar: he examined the boy's every move and deed, every word that he said. With Jongho being away, the Officer will certainly relax, as he won't have to be alert 24/7, but at the same time, the very prospect of him volunteering to be sent away was so suspicious that Seonghwa couldn't think of his motives quickly enough to weigh all the pros and cons when Hongjoong was already nodding in approval.

"Alright," Seonghwa flexes his jaw, still reluctant to accept it. He breathes in and out and quickly returns to his usual self, giving out orders to all of the crewmates. "Jongho and Yeosang, use the boat and bring help. Captain, adjust the sails; take Yunho with you to do it faster. Mingi, if... as soon as the ship takes off, examine the bow properly. San, swab the fucking deck already, will you? I swear, this damned buckwheat will sprout here until you do it!"

Everyone nodded quietly and went ahead to carry out their assignments. Only Wooyoung was awkwardly standing near the man, scared to even open his mouth.

"Wh-what should I do, sir?" he asks, gathering all his willpower. 

"Sit down. We shall examine this treasure chest."

Ah, the treasure chest! Indeed, although all the crew had their tasks, they still cast glances at the shiny golden chest that was shyly resting on the deck and glistening in the daylight. Why did he choose Wooyoung for that? What is so special about him? Why not them?

"Pretty," Wooyoung's eyes light up when he sees an almost pitch black mineral in the Officer's hand, which is entangled in a wire for it to be worn like a pendant. In fact, it looks crude and unrefined, and Seonghwa would never dare to call it "pretty", but his fingers feel the slight heat emanating from it that spreads further into his hand, calming him down and making him feel safe.

"You want it?" Seonghwa raises his eyebrows.

"It's okay," the boy shakes his head with a small smile. "I know that you will pay us anyway, so there is no need for that."

"Come here," he asks, but still rises to his feet himself, standing behind Wooyoung's back. He fetches a piece of black cord from the chest, letting the pendant hang on it freely, and secures it around the boy's neck with a couple of quirky knots. "This stone is a black tourmaline. It has protective properties: it envelops you like a warm blanket, hiding you in its embrace so that no evil spirit will notice you. Don't ever take it off, and it will always guard you."

Seonghwa cuts off the extra length of the cord with his knife and sits down, allowing himself to cast only one more glance at the boy, who gently touches the rough edges of the stone with his fingers, his cheeks turning slightly pink from the realization that this man genuinely cares about him. It's unusual to feel it from anyone else but San. Wooyoung almost convinced himself that no one would treat him well anymore.

"Can it protect me from evil people?" he asks quietly. Seonghwa stills for a second, his chest aching slightly from this question, but shakes his head honestly. 

"I suppose, no."

"That's a pity."

"Shall I take it back?" the Officer jokes.

"No! It's already mine!" Wooyoung screams and hides it under his shirt.

This little possessive gesture is so endearing that Seonghwa can't stop himself from smiling softly. He doesn't know that other crew members are watching their interaction, and he doesn't know how shocked they look after witnessing him being so openly happy. The Officer searches through the minerals and picks up an identical one to that on Wooyoung's chest, handing it to the boy.

"Here. Give this one to San too."

"I think he will like it more if you hand it to him personally," Wooyoung bites his lower lip and returns the gesture, his hand resting comfortably in the Officer's palms along with the black mineral. "You know, we both like you a lot. But I'm sure that he's more smitten by you."

"Why would he?" the man doubts. "Wasn't I a pure menace to him?"

Wooyoung snorts knowingly at that.

"Nah, you weren't. You can bully him all you want as long as he gets what he wants at the end of the day."

"And that is?"

"Your eyes on him. All of your attention directed only at him."

He knows exactly what this boy is talking about. While Wooyoung receives physical pleasure from their interaction, San finds other sources of enjoyment, feeding on emotions rather than sensations. The very feeling of getting someone hooked on him so badly they can no longer look away, enchanted by his performance, makes him drunk on power. None of them would know that San will gladly take anything they are willing to give. Be it praise, a glance, a kiss, or a slap on the cheek. He wins anyway if he catches your eye.

"We understand each other," Wooyoung simply explains, playing with the Officer's leather-clad fingers while he still can. "We both crave warmth and care. That's why we are together: to treat each other right, even when it seems that some of these ways are wrong or immoral. We give each other what we desire, regardless of how it may be labeled."

Seonghwa feels like something heats up inside of him just by listening to these words; his eyes are clouded with a familiar gray fog, so he intentionally blinks a couple of times to turn back to reality and not let himself slip into a weird headspace. He squeezes Wooyoung's hand in his one last time before standing up and coming closer to San, who has just finished all of his scrubbing. The boy startles when he feels the cord touch his neck, but he instantly recognizes the man behind him purely by his gloves and immediately relaxes.

"I'm getting a present too?" he asks, the corners of his mouth curling into a feline smile.

"Everyone will get something from that chest," Seonghwa answers and visibly notices how the boy's shoulders droop. Now that Wooyoung told him everything as it is, it turned out to be so easy to read him. So the Officer doesn't waste a chance to bring his lips closer to the reddened and still sensitive piercing spot on the boy's ear and whispers, "But I certainly won't tie it on their pretty necks personally."

"Thank you, sir," San breathes out slowly after what seems like an eternity, pretty blush on his cheeks.

Seonghwa throws his head back to inspect the progress of sail tuning and holds his palms around his mouth to sound louder.

"When you are finished, come down and pick something that you like. Just don't touch it yourself. I still haven't looked through all of it."

"Ah!" Mingi screams shortly, and the sound of something metal falling on the wooden planks makes the Officer turn his head and fly towards the chest immediately.

The Carpenter holds his right arm by the wrist with a pained expression on his face, and that's when Seonghwa notices that his palm is scorched and red, the small bubbles forming on the skin quickly and filling with liquid. Under his feet lies the silver crown made of thorns: it's thin and weightless and resembles the wreath of the Governor, but for the prickly parts of it that almost look like the stems of the rose, bent and clipped in the form of an accessory. 

"You touched it, and it scorched you?" Seonghwa asks him, lifting the crown from the ground with his finger and carefully examining it.

"Yes," the young man nods. "I suppose it can't hurt you because of the gloves."

The Officer shrugs.

"Maybe. Don't try to touch anything else, though, or the bruises may become permanent."

There's nothing wrong with the crown: a simple silver, no gemstones, and the thorns on it are not even sharp enough to cut a finger. How can it be a magical object? And why can't Seonghwa hear it? He definitely heard whispers from that tourmaline that he gave to the boys a couple of minutes ago, but this one refuses to talk to him.

It's certainly not the brightest of his ideas, but he had to test his hypothesis, so he took the right glove off his palm and carefully held the crown with two fingers, studying how it would react to him. A second passes. Five. Ten. Twenty. Mingi's eyes become rounder and rounder with each fleeting moment, to the point where he starts hiccupping from astonishment.

"How did you do it, Officer?" he wonders. "Why doesn't it scorch you? I— I swear to God, it has just—"

"I believe you," Seonghwa interrupts him. "But I don't know why either."

Suddenly the whole world turns silent and blurry, and a horrisonant outcry fills Seonghwa's ears, almost making them bleed from loudness. The voice that he hears is oddly familiar, as if it were his old friend. Years ago, he heard it for the first time when it was singing its melancholic lullabies to him, accompanied by the melody of the wind that got lost in the rocky mountain peaks, but right now it was full of pain and suffering. The piercing shriek is so atrocious that he falls on his knee, trying to muffle the sound with his palms, but it seems to creep even closer and closer to him.

"Sir!" he hears the voices of his crewmates yelling at him, and that's the only thing that makes his eyes open and notice how they gathered around him with anxious expressions on their faces.

"Have you heard it?" he asks in a whisper, his voice trembling. "Someone… was crying for help."

"No, Officer. No one made a sound," Hongjoong answers honestly, his eyebrows knit.

And as soon as he said it, the huge shadow appeared out of the sea with a deafening shriek, splashing the men with gallons of salty water. The ship was immediately thrown away from the rocks with a huge wave, and only a lucky chance has spared them from keeling this very second. However, the waves were not the problem.

It was the monster. 

The horrendous hydra with at least six skully heads was splashing around, throwing a literal tantrum next to their ship, the long tails of it twirling in the air and waiting to attack the careless travelers.

"Fuck," Hongjoong curses, running up to the helm immediately. "Yunho, sails! Quickly!"

The Boatswain rushes to finish the tuning, while the Captain starts turning the steer to run away from this cursed place as fast as possible. All the other men freeze on the spot, eyeing the giant monster with open mouths. Mingi is the first to say a word.

"What the hell even is that thing?" he asks, his voice suddenly small for his usual low tone.

"Scylla," Hongjoong hisses through his teeth. In his shaky hands, the ship graciously turns around, changing its route 180°. However, the name doesn't ring any bells to most of the crew, so he explains further, "The mythical creature. Instead of magical springs, they tend to appear in places where huge tragedies have happened. Then, they feed on that dark energy to become even stronger. I've only heard of shit like that—it's an urban legend."

"The legend says that Scyllas never appear alone," Seonghwa adds, finally rising to his feet and looking around to inspect the water surface better. If the stories are right, the creature of the vortex, the Charibdis, shall be somewhere nearby too, trapping them on the spot.

"Bite your tongue, Officer!" the Captain barks at him. "I'm not ready to bid farewell to my life today. You hear me? I will die only on my terms."

It was Seonghwa. Seonghwa woke that thing up when he touched the thorny crown. It must've felt it—the familiar energy of an ancient sin that gave birth to it. So it had no other choice but to rise from the depths of the sea, finally meeting its creator face to face only to devour him afterwards as a warm welcome.

...and it clearly was hungry as hell because the next thing they saw was a slow motion of this atrocious being throwing itself on the side of their ship, punching a hole through their keel. But it didn't stop there, and one of its heads fell straight on their figurehead, munching at the wood and snatching it away, along with a streewheel. The Captain disappears in the water in an instant, and Seonghwa would follow him as well, but for one of the planks that caught a hem of his uniform and gave him a little more time to grab at the edge of the aggrieved piece of wood.

Yunho flies to him immediately, grasping Seonghwa's arms and pulling him up with all his might. 

"Officer! Hold my hand tightly!" he shouts before using all of the powers left in his arms to pull the man onto the deck next to him.

Seonghwa's fingers tremble from the fright and adrenaline, but instead of crawling away from the edge, he clings to the chewed wood, looking into the dark water frantically.

"Hong— Hongjoong—"

"Forget about him," Yunho takes the Officer by the armpits and forcibly pulls him away, hiding from the monster behind the roof of the hold with two other boys. Mingi runs up to them as well, and the next words that spill from the lips of the Boatswain make his fists clench. "He's a goner, sir! If he hasn't drowned already, the monster will finish him anyway."

"No!" Seonghwa disagrees, finally coming to his senses. "We still have two more boats. Untie them quickly before that thing destroys them!"

Mingi holds the Officer by the forearm, attracting his attention and pleading, "Give me one of them. I shall look for Captain."

"What are you talking about?" Yunho growls indignantly. "Wake up! He is dead!"

"Shut up!" the Carpenter suddenly shouts at him, rising to his feet. "If it were any of you instead, he would've saved you. He would've jumped there, even if he didn't have any boats. But look at you now, hiding here when he is..."

"Ming—" Yunho starts cautiously, but the Officer interrupts him.

"Take the boat. Find Hongjoong. It's an order."

The look of Seonghwa is dead serious, and when Yunho notices his irises turn silver, he tugs his senior on the arm to stop but does not dare to say a word, silently watching how Mingi nods and quickly unties the security ropes on the emergency boats. He shouldn't have taught him how to do that; if Mingi didn't know that, he probably would've stayed on the deck longer, and during that time, Yunho could've overpersuaded the Officer not to do dumb things like that.

"Untie the other one and put the boys on it," Seonghwa turns to him as well, this time without ordering, knowing for sure that Yunho wouldn't go against his word anyway. "Now."

"What about you?" San asks, clutching the man's wrist with his hand—an unheard-of move before, but the situation is too dire to care about etiquette.

Seonghwa breathes out, watching Mingi finally sail away from the ship; the other boat was almost ready too. Good, they will manage somehow.

"It's not a battleship, so it has no cannons or powder. The only thing I can do is fight it with a sword," the Officer explains, but Wooyoung cuts him off.

"Fighting this creature? Don't be stupid and board the boat!"

The Officer lifts him up instead of giving an answer, throwing his legs over the edge of the ship, urging him to get down quickly. He does the same to San as well, meeting a rather strong resistance this time. Seonghwa shuts his eyes, trying to calm down and not abuse his power more than the situation requires.

"The boat can take three men at max, and even so, it will sink significantly, making it impossible to use it for fast retreat," he says, putting pressure on San's shoulders for him to finally climb down. "So go. Jongho shall return with help soon. They will rescue us."

"I saw this look on you before," San comments quietly, catching the other end of the rope when he jumps down on the boat. "I don't believe you." 

"It doesn't matter anymore," he smiles bitterly, turning his head to Yunho. His tone turns dead serious when he speaks to him. "You can leave with them or wait for Mingi. Both options are risky, but you have to choose now."

The monster spat the rest of their figurehead in the sea but still couldn't ease its hunger, so the next bite went straight to the sails, breaking the mast into three chunks and threatening to fall on the heads of the guards. It was at this moment that Yunho understood: the choice is only an illusion. If he hesitates for another second, all of them will be dead.

He didn't want that to happen. He didn't want him to discover it that way. Not like that when he doesn't even have a chance to explain himself first.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry," Yunho apologizes, his eyes full of tears when he pulls a little black sphere from his inner pocket, crashing it in his hand. A thick black fog clouds the Guard almost instantly, and he throws the remnants of the sphere on the ground only to disappear in it in an instant, along with a golden treasure chest that was just at his feet. The only thing that still reminds them of his presence is a high wall of dark fog that lingers in the air despite the wind.

How did he do it? What was that thing in his hand? Did he take the chest with him on purpose? And, most importantly, what was he apologizing for?..

There are millions of questions on Seonghwa's head right now, but he doesn't have the time to mull over them properly when the monster falls on the right side of their ship, sending the Officer straight overboard with momentum, the planks of the wreckage bruising him before he falls in the water. The sea is so clean, almost see-through, that when he raises his hand to the surface, he can almost see it grazing the cloudless sky above, but for gallons of water that press on his chest and push the oxygen out of it. Drowning is painful. Drowning is stupid when you're an all-mighty Head of Marine Guard who still isn't immune to getting cramps in cold water.

Drowning is scary. But then again, is it drowning that he is afraid of? Or is it the sharp claw of eternal oblivion that seems to be closer now than ever?..

The water loses its crystal clarity (or is it his eyes that finally turn blurry and unfocused?) and the mirriads of bubbles make it impossible to see anything around him. But it's okay. It's not like Seonghwa has the strength to continue struggling further anyway. His body feels like a heavy rock, and he gives in to this sensation, seizing his fight and accepting this undoubtedly just judgment of the sea gods.

After all, the truth was told.

*

*

*

A young boy with huge, scared eyes stood on his knees before the golden throne. His new tailored uniform was hugging his figure in the most attractive way possible, showcasing the wide back of his that turned more and more muscular each year that he spent in the Guard. It really had been years since he had joined it, but after all this time, he was still scared of this man with a silver wreath on his head. He always knew that he would get to this throne, ever since he saw how his eyes had shone when he entered the Great Hall for the first time. When these eyes were fixed on him at that moment, the guard couldn't help but swallow a lump in his throat.

"Your Highness, do you know the tales about the Dragon Kingdom?" the boy wondered cautiously. 

That was not what the Governor asked him. In fact, they never had a small talk about stuff like the weather, history, or folklore. The only thing that the man wanted to know about was his senior, Park Seonghwa, and that boy should've known better than to waste his precious time on some nonsense.

"The one from the Ancient Era? That is considered a predecessor of our country?" Jaehwan yawned but decided to play along, giving the boy a chance for redemption.

"Yes, Sir," the young guard nodded. "According to the legend, it was ruled by a powerful clan, the descendants of the dragons that possessed peculiar abilities. Although they had lost their dragon visuals, they still had ahold of the powers that were ascribed to them: each their word was a Divine Order that their people complied with, even if it was against their own will or principles. Naturally, no leader desires for their nation to suffer and perish, so centuries passed and the rulers never took any real advantage of it until the last Dragon King succeeded the throne. His greed and misdealing caused the uprising, and only the people who possessed peculiar magical abilities were able to withstand his Divine Order even though they paid the price with their own lives. These people are said to be the first generation of the Keepers—the legendary heroes who were able to free the nation from despotic rule and set the foundation for a new country that we live in today."

"Why are you telling me this, Yunho?"

The sound of his name, accentuated in that manner, made the boy shudder slightly when he realized that the Governor barely concealed his irritation.

"Because that's what you wanted to know, Your Highness," he rushed to explain himself. "Because Officer Park is the descendant of that very Dragon clan."

Jaehwan rose up from his seat, his eyes unusually round in pure shock. The Dragon... clan... The ground seemed to be crumbling under his feet, so he stepped down to the center of the Hall, closer to the guard, who still had his head down, never daring to witness the moments of weakness of his Governor.

It's good. It's good that he kept this boy near him. No one has ever been as useful to him as this child.

The man took a few more steps, fixing his gaze on the figure before him.

"Thank you, Yunho," the Governor said, as he stroked the guard's hair as one would pat their dog. "Finally, I know the reason why that man has been snooping around the Great Hall, shaking hands and rubbing shoulders even with some of the Elders. It is very good that you notified me. The whole region may be in danger."

Jaehwan stood on one knee in front of the boy, holding his face in his palms.

"I will ask you to continue keeping an eye on the traitor. It is very important, Yunho. But don't worry, I will protect you."

The small black sphere was presented to the guard, and Jaehwan instantly put it right into the boy's palm, squeezing the hand with his two.

"We don't need to meet, or else he will suspect you. I want you to be in touch with me only through this pulsar. And when time arrives, if or when you face the great danger, just smash it in your hands, and it will take you to me in a blink of an eye," Jaehwan let go of his hands and instead hugged the boy by the shoulders, adding, "He will never be able to harm you for telling the truth to me. Neither you nor anyone else on these lands. You have my word, Yunho."

*

*

*

The same very boy, who turned into a young man, was still standing on his knees at the golden throne. His expression was grave, and his hands trembled, but the Governor's face looked extremely pleased.

"We have located him thanks to you," Jaehwan smiles softly, reading the report on his pulsar from the team of his personal guards. "It's good that I kept an eye on him. My men were merely ten minutes away from the pulsar mark that you sent when you crashed it."

Yunho's eyes open widely, and he almost gets up on his feet, but at the last second he remembers where and who he is.

"So you found him?" the guard asks hastily. "Is he alive? What about the crew?"

"He is... alive," the Governor clicks his tongue with a wry expression. "He was found on a boat with two other crewmates of his."

"Only two?.. You haven't searched for anyone else? Maybe someone was nearby as well?" the young guard can't stop himself from asking for more details, till the very end hoping to hear good news from the Governor, but the man only shuts his eyes in irritation.

"Yunho, why would I waste time on that? I got what I needed: the schemer and his dear treasure as a bonus. I don't care about that mob of his."

Yunho's body sags on the ground when he realizes that all his hopes are shattered by the very same man who was meant to be his savior. But then, is it really Kim Jaehwan who is to blame for all this? Isn't it Yunho himself who teamed up with the wrong side, having judged the players wrongly while seeking a more powerful patron on his way to success?

"I... I sent you a signal because I thought you would save all of them," the guard mumbles. When he looks down on his palms for a mere moment, it seems to him that they are bloody red, but he blinks it away quickly, looking up to the Governor. "Only you were able to do that... But..."

"Huh?" Jaehwan hums, raising his eyebrow. "I suppose you're still too soft, my boy. Don't tell me that you did something stupid, like openly using that pulsar and letting your Officer see how you disappeared."

Yunho breaks eye contact instantly, tilting his head down in remorse. Was it really that dumb of him? But wouldn't the Officer be worried for him if he disappeared all of a sudden? He had to warn him, at least somehow.

"Oh, no... You did it in front of him?" Jaehwan runs a palm across his face in annoyance. "Yunho, you have always been such a smart boy... Why would you do a thing like that?"

"I had no other choice," the guard raises his voice, and with each next word, it gets higher and higher in pitch. "The monster was attacking the ship, and we had a breach, so there was no time to think twice—"

"Did you do that on purpose?" the man interrupts him. "Did you do it to let him know that he's being watched?"

"I never told him anything," the boy whispers, his lips trembling from the harsh tone of the Governor that seemed like a slap on the cheek.

Jaehwan grits his teeth at that answer.

"It's not hard to guess, Yunho."

"Governor, allow me," the man wrapped in rich silks, who has been standing near the throne all this time, intervenes. His long blond hair falls on the pale face, covering a good half of it, so Yunho can't see much of it, but he still recognizes him—the High Elder Kim Heechul himself. He curls his thin lips in a smile, continuing, "Either way, whether Officer Park knows about your surveillance or not, it's not important."

"Then what is important, may I ask?" Jaehwan's voice is still steel-like and coarse, with a clear barely concealed anger in it, but the magician never loses his temper in his presence.

"The truth," the High Elder answers, pointing at the treasure chest in front of Yunho. "And the truth is written all over that chest that our Guard has brought with him."

The magician barely moves his fingers, but some of the ornaments that cover the whole surface of the chest light up brightly: the peculiar dragon-like creatures stand out on the general bleak background, twinkling like fireflies that suddenly came to life. 

"The Dragon clan," Jaehwan whispers, finally seeing the proof of his assumptions with his very eyes. He has all the evidence against that bastard.

"Indeed," the magician agrees with him, and for a mere second, the Governor wonders whether this man can read his thoughts. "Now, you can be sure about his real identity."

Jaehwan tsks.

"I was sure before as well."

"Pardon me, Governor, but I know you like the back of my hand," the High Elder smiles softly, bowing slightly to express his servility. "You never make hasty decisions. However, now you will have a solid reason to interrogate and even execute him, if you wish. Just think about it, why else would a spawn of an otherthrown clan return to our lands and get so high up the ranks if not to usurp the throne?"  

Kim Heechul, with his powers and knowledge, has always scared the Pool's Governor even before he got himself that title, but if there's one thing that he was right at, it's this one. But for the High Elder, he would never notice anything suspicious about that rather young Officer, who became a frequent member of Great Hall meetings. He should be thankful that his Advisor has a keen eye on peculiar individuals that possess certain... powers.

"But you shouldn't worry about him, Your Majesty," the magician continues, quickly running a tongue over his lower lip. "Just hand him to me, and I will dissect him cell by cell for you."

There it is.

The mad scientist in that man is feeling the taste of blood on the tip of his tongue. The perfect prey is at an arm's length from him, and he's not willing to pass on the opportunity to get his hands on it.

Yunho shifts his wet eyes from one man to the other, and shivers run down his whole body when he understands the implication behind those words. However, he doesn't get to witness the final decision of the Governor because suddenly his whole body twists into a knot, making him turn over, smearing the luxurious marble floor with the leftovers of his morning repast.

"Ugh," Jaehwan closes his eyes and waves his hand at the Advisor. "Take the boy away first. He had a hell of a day."

No. No, he has to know.

He has to know whether his poor decisions will lead that man to such a terrific death.

He has to know whether he will discover that it's him who was... the traitor.

Yunho wants to voice it, but the only thing that comes out of him is another portion of bile. The last thing he sees are the pointy tips of the Advisor's shoes that appear under his shroud before a pale hand reaches out to his nape, pressing into some acupuncture spot and turning his senses blank.

"Humans. So fragile," the magician comments, wiping Yunho's face with a cloth and carefully holding him in his arms to hand the boy to the guards afterwards.

Humans, huh?

Jaehwan bites his cheek at this remark. Isn't he a human too? When will the day come when this man calls him "a human" in a derogatory way as well?

If Jaehwan could erase only one man from existence, surprisingly, his choice would not fall on Park Seonghwa.

It would be his one and only Advisor.

***

Seeing that man on his knees in front of him feels intoxicating. Still wet and dirty, all decorated with bruises after the shipwreck, with his eyes covered by a thick cloth and arms tied tightly behind his back—it's a vision he would like to witness every day. One day, all of his enemies will end up like that, on the dirty floor, while he will rise over them. But till then, he still has some work to do on catching these bastards first.

The feel of gold-gilt metal is nice under his fingers when he runs them over the beautiful treasure chest that is slightly damaged because of the recent accident. So sad. It could've been part of his collection too.

"Keep your hands off that chest," Seonghwa suddenly spits through his gritted teeth, as if he could see through his blindfold everything that was happening in the room.

"What? You don't like witnessing me touch what's yours?" the Governor snickers. His face suddenly loses the smirk, turning dead serious in a second. "Imagine how I feel seeing you get more and more power every day."

"I know what you think of me," the Officer interrupts, aware of everything that is running through the other man's head. "That I'm here to snatch that silver wreath off your head. But you're wrong, Kim Jaehwan. I don't need any of that. The only thing I wanted was truth."

But instead of easing the Governor's mind, these words only make him even angrier.

"Stop lying! You knew the truth even before you stepped foot in my region. Otherwise, you wouldn't have shown up here out of the blue, like a damn messiah!" Jaehwan shouts, completely losing his temper. The guards visibly tense at such a sight, and the man takes a second to clench his hands into fists, breathe in and out, and sit down on the throne again after regaining his composure. His voice is tangibly calmer when he continues, "Your powers are too dangerous, Park Seonghwa. You are a direct threat to people. That's why your pathetic clan was slaughtered, and that's why you should be isolated from the rest of the world. But I'm not a butcher, Officer, oh no. In fact, I am very interested in what is so peculiar about you. You must know my Advisor, the High Elder Kim Heechul, right?"

The sudden change of topic catches Seonghwa off guard.

"What does it have to do with anything?" he hisses. He can almost hear how the man on the throne smiles in turn.

"When things happen in this world all of a sudden, we tend to say that it's God's doing. Blessing. Curse. Magic. But my Advisor, although he is a powerful magician himself, wants to understand it from a scientific point of view," the tone of his turns jolly, and even a single giggle slips from his lips. "Now, I must admit that I deemed his aspirations not ethical previously, but I suppose that it's alright if it's you. You will be a perfect guinea pig for him, Officer."

"Kim Jaehwan!" Seonghwa shouts at him, struggling in a tight grip of the guards, who keep him in place from dashing towards the Governor this very moment and strangling him with his bare hands.

The Governor chuckles lightly.

"You should say thank you to him, by the way. My first thought was to scoop out those eyes of yours as soon as my men would find you, but he stopped me. Though I'm not sure whether you will be able to see the beauty of this world ever again anyway."

***

Seonghwa doesn't know how much time has passed in this cold prison cell where he has been kept. The leather restraints all over his body were so tight he barely felt his limbs anymore, and the hunger and thirst were slowly driving him insane, with his eyes still covered to keep him guessing about this strange place that shall become his personal torture chamber. His hearing sharpens, so he doesn't leave the presence of the other person unnoticed, immediately turning his head towards them with a silent question.

However, instead of pain, the hand of the stranger gives him a light pat on the head.

"It's okay, Seonghwa. I don't intend to hurt you," the soft voice ensures him, and somehow it makes him even more anxious. "In fact, I will be the one to save you."

"Oh, is that one of your twisted metaphors, Advisor?" Seonghwa dares to wonder, his voice hoarse from staying silent for so long.

"No, I mean it quite literally, Officer," the High Elder answers and brings a cup towards the prisoner's lips, but the latter turns his head away, reluctant to take anything from the hands of that man.

"Your Governor said that I'm fired, so I'm not sure whether it's appropriate to regard me as such," Seonghwa grunts instead.

The magician scoffs.

"My Governor?"

"Well, he is certainly a dead man to me."

"Huh." He clearly hears how Heechul smiles when he continues, "What if I told you that I felt just the same way?"

Very funny. What a peculiar way to fish the intel out of him... Is he trying to befriend him in this way?

"An Advisor having beef with a Governor. That's something new," Seonghwa could've rolled his eyes, but for the blindfold.

"You know Jaehwan; he acts like a little kid. He has his own view of the world, and he's so stubborn about it that he won't listen to anyone. Being his Advisor is a hard job," the man sighs and squeezes the prisoner's shoulder. "On the other hand, if I could choose, I would appoint someone like you on his post."

This man is definitely a clown. Or a madman. Or a... mad clown? He can't decide which option is worse.

"You think I'm easier to handle?" Seonghwa blatantly laughs in his face, forgetting that his whole life is in this man's hands. "I'm from a Dragon clan, remember? Didn't Jaehwan tell you that I can bend anyone to my liking? Why would it be easier for you to work with me?"

"Because you don't want it," the High Elder explains easily, and it wipes the smile from the Officer's face. "The power. The throne. The wreath. Your head is not clouded by ambition. It is a rare gift, and in my humble opinion, it is exactly how a true King should be."

"Why are you saying all of this to me?" the Officer asks through gritted teeth. If this man is trying to give him hope only to crash it in his fist and send the ashes of it with the wind, he won't let himself fall for his words that easily. That's one of the things he liked about his job: on a battlefield, you know exactly who your enemy and your ally is. But these people are not acquainted with the idea of military valor; their only weapon is wire-pulling. Seonghwa thinks that each and every one of them is pathetic.

"You don't believe in words, Officer," Heechul comments, as if he can see right through him. "Then let me show you. How much I trust you."

When the blindfold falls from his face, Seonghwa holds his breath in shock, fighting the urge to squint his eyes. Why would... Why would any sane man do such a stupid thing?.. Doesn't he know that Seonghwa can order him to do anything right now? He can even tell him to release him or slit Jaehwan's throat! Why would—

It is when Seonghwa lifts his head that he realizes the reason. The fair-skinned blond man in front of him is undoubtedly good-looking but for an ugly scar that runs across his face, turning one of his eyes dead-white. Blind. This man is blind. No doubt he doesn't see Seonghwa as a threat.

"Let's make an agreement, Park Seonghwa," the High Elder smiles at him softly before undoing one of the straps that have kept the Officer immobile till this moment. "If something unfortunate suddenly happens to our dear Governor, would you be so kind as to take his place?"

***

It has been days since both of them were left to rot in this dungeon, the only source of news for them being the screams from the tiny window at the ceiling of their prison gate. Since yesterday, the persistent smell of burnt flesh and rot has been their constant companion that didn't want to go away no matter where the boys would hide from it. The only thing they could do was sit in the corner, wrapped around each other, as if it could help them stay warm and safe.

The scruffling of someone's feet nearby makes them shiver. It's unusual to see the guards come here at night; they tend to bring them food only once a day at noon, so the appearance of the man in a guard's uniform was a bad omen. The Guard, however, stops at the gates of their prison cell, silently peering inside without saying a single word. His ominous presence is creepy, to say the least, but Wooyoung wipes his eyes and peers into the darkness once again, noticing the familiar features in the man's face.

"You," the boy grits his teeth, untangling from the warm hug and rising to his feet. He limps straight to the bars, clenching them with his fingers until his knuckles turn white, and pulls at them in a sudden fit of anger.

The guard steps back but doesn’t try to leave. However, he doesn't say anything either. What's up with him? Did someone chop his tongue off?

"Why are we here?" Wooyoung growls at him again. "Choi Jongho, explain to me, why the fuck are we in the prison cell?"

The young man stays quiet and only continues to keep eye contact with Wooyoung, his expression completely devoid of any emotion. The latter cracks his neck, feeling how red flames of frustration burn his insides.

"Where is everyone, Jongho?" he continues to interrogate the dumb guard. "Are they alive?"

"I don't know," the other boy finally answers.

His voice is weak and raspy, and it's so out of character for the usually loud and self-confident Jongho that even Wooyoung is taken aback by the genuine sorrow in his tone.

"All right, you don't know that; that's okay," the boy shakes off this weird feeling of empathy that almost made him pity the man in front of him. After all, it is them who are imprisoned right now, not him! Why should he pity him?! "But explain this to me: if both of us were the crew members on that ship, then why do we stand on opposite sides of the prison gates right now? Who the fuck are you, Choi Jongho?"

"I don't know about the others," Jongho repeats, ignoring his question, and adds, "But I know where Seonghwa is."

San, who didn't pay any attention to the guard before, immediately turns his head towards the gate. The mask on the young man's face crumbles, and his gaze lowers, his eyes staring at the dirty floor. No one was ready for what he would say next.

"He was burned at stake tonight. He and all of the other people who studied magic in our region."

"What?.."

Wooyoung steps away from the gates, and San catches him in his arms just in time before the boy's legs would betray him. The deafening silence seems almost torturous; Wooyoung feels like it fills his ears to the brim, crawling deeper inside his head and inflating it from within. But for the warm hands of San around him, he would lose his mind at that very moment. Something cracks in front of them, and the boys shudder when they notice that Jongho has just opened the cell with his keys.

"Do you want to see him?"

See him? Like... in hell or what?..

"We never studied magic. Why should we be executed too?" answers San, and the man makes a perplexed expression but then realizes what the boy implied.

"No one is going to harm you. I'm asking whether you want to see his body."

***

It's not that Wooyoung is medically-savvy or anything, but he is absolutely sure that burnt bodies don't look like that. Except for his clothes, Seonghwa looked almost as good as new: no signs of burns or even bruises; only his lips were chapped from dehydration, and his chest was rising and falling frantically, as if he were seeing a nightmare.

...

...

Now.

Why is a dead man... breathing?..

"H-he is alive?" Wooyoung stammers, staring at the man. Jongho nods affirmatively.

"Yes. But he still hasn't woken up," the young man holds both of the boys by the shoulders, trying to grab their attention. "The time is ticking. You have to take him and leave the region. Tonight, when most of the guards are still occupied with more important stuff."

"B-but you are a part of the Guard too. Why then?.." Wooyoung wonders. "I thought you hated me."

"We're even," the guard huffs and looks away. "All of it was in a different life when we could afford to be childish. I'm afraid we have much bigger problems to think about now."

"Jongho!" San screams, pointing somewhere behind the boy's back, and the latter jumps away from his spot instantly, examining the room carefully.

Anything could've happened at that moment: the Guards could've kept an eye on him in order to seize all the traitors in one go; the house could've been set on fire by one of the vicious lightning bolts that have been striking the gloomy sky all day; that weird man that he met on the bonfire when he tried to save the Officer could've been a spy, plotting something against them... But, thankfully, it was Seonghwa who the boy was pointing at. Seonghwa, who suddenly rose from the dead, took a sitting position in an instant with wide-open eyes.

"O-officer? Sir?" Jongho runs a hand in front of his senior's eyes, trying to grab his attention, but all his efforts remain futile.

"Seonghwa," Wooyoung dares to creep closer and cover the man's palm with his own.

It's as if he wakes up from a deep slumber, breathing in sharply and trembling with his whole body before shaking his head and turning it to the side where three astonished boys stood. Seonghwa's eyes are the size of the moon, and his breathing is still labored when he clenches Wooyoung's palm in his hands, making the boy yelp from pain and shock. He brings it closer to his face instead of letting Wooyoung go, feeling the warmth on his cheek.

"Pinch me," he asks in a hoarse whisper, and the boy snatches his hand away from his clutches, slapping his cheek instead with a loud bang, which leaves a red imprint on his skin. Seonghwa opens his mouth, utterly scandalized by such a welcome.

"What are you doing?" Jongho hisses at the boy, almost ready to beat his ass once again for daring to harm his Officer.

"What?" Wooyoung pouts. "He's shocked. It will return him to his senses quicker."

Seonghwa freezes in one position for a second before frantically running a hand down his face and neck, and shoulders, and then returns to his head, tangling his fingers in the silver locks and tugging on them slightly. Pain is still there, so it’s not a dream; he really is alive.

Only after a hint of consciousness returns to his eyes and he turns his face to them again does Jongho open his mouth to ask something, but the Officer beats him to it.

"The last thing that I remember is the never-ending pain of the fire licking at my skin. I... It was... It was..."

Awful? Horrendous? Dreadful? There're no words that can describe the feeling of despair under the influence of an unstoppable destructive force that wants nothing more than to erase you from existence in the most cruel way possible: your mind, your body, your name, the very record of you. San can take the lost look of this man no more, so he takes him into a warm hug, patting his head soothingly and letting the Officer hide his face on his chest.

"It's okay," he whispers in the man's ear. "You've made it. You're with us now. Everything will be alright."

He almost wants to say that it won't, but the unspilt tears come too close to his throat, blocking it completely. It takes Seonghwa a solid couple of minutes to return to his senses, pacified by the gentle ruffling of his hair, and even when he decides to finally untangle himself from the hug, he barely fights the urge to fall into the boy's embrace again the very next second.

"How?" is the only thing he asks, looking around the room for answers.

"The whole region is caught up in a purge, and there's not enough people to cover the whole territory, so some bonfires were left unguarded," Jongho explains and suddenly chuckles. "After all, the dead can't run away, so it was a strategic move. I saw an opportunity in it, and as soon as I had a chance, I came to the central square. As expected, it was empty, but for a single man who was crouched near the remnants of the bonfire, holding someone's hand. I couldn't risk it, so I watched him from afar for some time, and I noticed the white streaks of translucent energy emanating from his arm and straight into one of the bodies. Its face was black and covered in ashes, but the more light the man poured into it, the more familiar features I noticed. It was you, Officer. He was pouring his energy into you."

"A light-bearer," Seonghwa breathes out in utter shock.

"A who?" Wooyoung wonders.

"Light-bearer," the Officer repeats. "That's what you call a mage who is a healer. It's an extremely rare gift. You confronted him?"

The last question was addressed to Jongho, who nodded positively.

"Yes, sir. When I understood that he wasn't from the Guard, I immediately stepped up and helped him drag you into some alley, away from possible prying eyes. He asked me who you were."

"He healed a complete stranger?.." Seonghwa knits his eyebrows, perplexed with the thought process behind that magician's deeds. Do people still do things like that in our time? Act out of pure altruism? Nonsense...

"Indeed, I was stunned as well. I told him only your name, but by the look in his eyes, I understood that it told him nothing. I intended to interrogate him more, but he staggered and held his head in his arms, as if he suddenly had a splitting headache, mumbling something about his ferry before he ran away. I couldn't risk losing any more precious time, so I decided to prioritize you and carry you here. Even left a letter for you if you would wake up before I came back," Jongho scratches his head awkwardly, and his voice turns barely audible on that last sentence. He hopes that the Officer didn't catch that last bit and wouldn't look for the tear-stenched letter either, or else his head will blow up from embarrassment.

On the other hand, Seonghwa concentrates on a completely different part of his cue.

"A ferry? He's an outlander?"

"Yes, he spoke in dialect," the boy nods. "His pronunciation was a bit weird, as if he were singing the words instead of speaking."

"That's what they do in the Ridge," the man brings a hand to his face, anxiously biting at his nail. "They use tones to differentiate between the various meanings of the word."

"It's a good thing that he was in a hurry then because the witch hunt spares neither residents nor outlanders," Jongho shakes his head in disapproval. "He could've ended up in your shoes had he stayed there longer."

Seonghwa's eyes instantly filled with rage, and it even seemed to them that the whole air in the house became drier and hotter all of a sudden.

"The others, from the crew, do you know what happened to them?"

"I'm afraid the fate of the pirate crew is unknown to me," the Guard coughs, feeling the change in the air as well. "After Yeosang and I boarded that boat, we didn't know what happened to you later. It was when we tried to set off to get back when the Royal Fleet ship was anchored at the same dock. I knew that it was suspicious, so I asked Yeosang to stay away while I would find out what happened. It turned out that they were on our tail all along, and, as soon as they saw an opportunity, they captured you, along with these two."

Jongho nods at the boys, and for some reason, both of them look down in shame.

"They even tried to fight the guards, idiots," the boy tsks. "It's a miracle that Jaehwan didn't realize how close you were. Or else he would’ve used them the same way he did with Yunho..."

"Yun—"

"I don't know, sir," the junior interrupts his question. "Why he did what he did or where he is now—no one will tell you for sure. Only the Governor knows what happened to him, and I'm afraid, as he is no longer of use to him, he might have..."

Jongho swallows the lump in his throat, not daring even to verbalize his guess. After all, Yunho was his friend too. The closest one, who was always by his side, cheering him up and making his days in the Royal Guard brighter. That's what you do to people who are dear to you—you try to make excuses for anything they do. Even if these mistakes cost someone their life.

And, evidently, Seonghwa feels exactly the same way because his hands suddenly clench into fists.

"Kim Jaehwan... I will take his life!"

"I heard some rumors from the castle," the boy shakes his head, trying to stop him from making any irrational moves. "After an unsuccessful assassination orchestrated by the High Elder, he was lying on the verge of death the last couple of days, but tonight... They say that he feels more alive than he has ever been before."

"When I was kept in the dungeon, just before they set up the bonfires, his Advisor mentioned something about an 'accident' they were about to set up in the castle, but he was sure that Jaehwan would never survive it," Seonghwa's eyes run in circles, trying to figure out how this plan could've turned awry. "How did he manage to do that? He had a healer?"

"No, he burned all of the mages as soon as he gained consciousness. Moreover, had he had a healer, he wouldn't have been a dead meat all this time but would've used their service immediately." Jongho stops for a second before continuing cautiously, "I heard... that the Advisor's dark magic changed him in a way no one could've predicted... that he bit two of his viceroys... People who saw him claim that he... drinks blood now to survive."

"What the fuck?" San curses, and Seonghwa sincerely agrees with him, his face showing the utmost disgust.

"That's what he deserves. The life of a filthy parasite..." the Officer spits out.

Jongho nods in solidarity; however, he can't help but shiver, remembering the blood-chilling stories that he heard from fellow guards. 

"I'm afraid that the region is not safe anymore," the guard turns their attention to what is more important. "For anyone. But mostly for you. You have to escape. Right now, when you still have a chance."

"He has to pay for what he did first," Seonghwa flames up.

"No," firmly says Jongho. "Don't be a fool. All the roads are blocked and full of guards. Don't forget that there is a witch hunt in the whole region. They will decapitate you at first chance!"

"But we can't stay and hide here forever either," San mumbles, hating the idea of being even more indebted to Jongho than he is already now.

The boy nods at them knowingly and snatches a map from one of the drawers, drawing crosses on it.

"There is one option. You can use this ferry; it will sail to the eastern harbor of the River Valley. It's a whole different region, so you will be safe there. But you need to hurry up because it is only a matter of days when the Guard will put an arrest on the docks and close the sea borders as well."

"My treasure," begins Seonghwa, but the guard interrupts him.

"You won't need your treasure if you get dismembered!"

Jongho's tone is reproaching and harsh, and if he dared to act like that a month ago or so, he wouldn't be able to get away with it by simply kneeling on buckwheat. But both of them know that they are no longer senior and junior; in fact, it is most likely that Jongho has a much higher social status than the ex-Officer who is considered a literal criminal now. So Seonghwa can't argue with the boy; he is right. He has always had a clear head.

"What about you?" he asks the boy. "Are you staying?"

Jongho nods.

"Someone needs to stay. I still don't know where Yunho is, so I'm the only one who can cover you up for the time being. That is why I want you to leave as fast as you can. The sooner you leave, the sooner I will be free as well."

"Jongho..." Seonghwa squeezes his shoulder, hoping that this gesture can somehow show how much he appreciates everything this boy did for them. His eyes tell more, but he will never know that. "Let's meet again."

Jongho doesn't say a word but nods firmly, sealing their promise.

***

"Let's meet again, Officer," Hongjoong mumbles dreamily as well, opening his eyes. 

The sunrays fall on his face, and the metronome-like noise of the tides fills his ears. His whole body hurts like hell, but his head has never been lighter before. He blinks a couple of times more, licking the smile away from his lips, and suddenly rises up. 

"Now... Where the fuck am I?"

Chapter Text

(now)

The inexplicable feeling of fatigue was washing over Seonghwa from time to time after all of the tumultuous events of his past took place. Although he knew that no grave damage was done to his body, the only place where he could tame his pain and nausea was in the embrace of the canopy near their hut. The nature seemed to heal him, the scent of yule clearing his head and letting him finally get lost in the visions under his eyelids. He isn't sure, however, whether they are really bringing him comfort or rather tormenting him even more.

There is this one particular dream he never fails to witness every single time he closes his eyes.

He usually sees their faces in water: drowning, screaming, cursing... dying. But this time they decided to visit him in this little forest in the River Valley where he and the boys resided ever since they had fled from the Pool. Somehow, the picture in his head is almost serene: as if his crew was never destroyed, the boys were laughing together, running around the clearing like carefree children they were back then. This vision is so unbelievable, he immediately understands that it's just one of his fever dreams, but he still wants to linger there a bit longer, to listen to their voices ringing in his ears, to see the smiles on their faces, to feel as if everything is normal once again—no tears, no pain, no eternal oblivion and scars.

"Seonghwa," he hears his name in a whisper just above his ear and immediately turns around.

He knew that this time would come. It always does, even in the happiest of his dreams. His demons call him again.

His demons have the guise of a young man with a quirky smile and an eye patch, covering half of his face.

"You don't look like yourself, Officer," the pirate smirks, eyeing his features intently.

I don't even know who I am anymore, he almost wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat instead. He feels like this man is the only person he can confide in with something so private, yet at the same time, it's the very man he fears to disappoint the most. Hongjoong is better than him. Hongjoong died for his men while he only made others suffer for his sake. Seonghwa almost wants to puke because of how pathetic he feels facing this man this very moment.

But his demons see right through him regardless. They sense the scent of his weakness and don't hesitate to draw even more blood from the wounded beast he is.

"When we first met, you were so unreachable," the pirate mutters slowly as if reminiscing. "Light, like a bright ray of the sun: so high, so pure, so glorious. I thought to myself, will I ever be able to reach you if I have never had wings of my own? Will I ever have a chance to bathe in your light until it burns me alive? After all, I'm nothing but a filthy moth, my name not worthy of even being mentioned in your presence."

Hongjoong giggles viciously, his gaze turning cold when he clicks his tongue.

"And then it occurred to me. That there was only one way for us to become equal. It had nothing to do with me, but with you. It's your light that had to be dimmed, your wings had to be chopped off, and your face had to be smeared with dirt and stomped into the ground."

His words are harsh, but his tone is so soft and quiet, and condescending as if he's talking to a little, dumb kid, trying to knock some sense into him. Was it indeed something that a real Hongjoong would want? Maybe, considering that Seonghwa basically used him in return for keeping his head intact. And even with that, he was able to prolong his life only by a couple of weeks...

"So how do you like that?" the pirate asks, leaning closer to him to see the other man better. "Are we that different now? Does my presence bring you inconvenience? Will you feel like a disgrace after being seen in my company? Will your skin burn if my dirty finger lingers on it for too long?"

A calloused hand cups his cheek, the rough skin of Hongjoong's thumb leaving an invisible, prickly line on his cheekbone again and again. He peers into Seonghwa's face so as not to miss his reaction to such a blunt stunt that most likely is driving him crazy, so when he sees how the older man's brows knit and his features twist in a painful expression, he smirks even more, entertained by the sight.

"You," Seonghwa mouths, his lips trembling when he tries to make his vocal cords work properly.

"Yes?" the pirate smiles back.

"Hongjoong..."

"I love the sound of my name when it flies from your lips," he remarks, guiding the thumb down his cheek and resting it on his chin instead. "I wonder if you ever felt the same. Seonghwa."

"I've never--" the man starts, but a lump gets stuck in his throat, so he swallows it before he can continue. "I never thought about you that way."

"Oh..." Hongjoong deadpans.

"I've never felt disgraced by your presence. I... I'm sorry."

Seonghwa shuts his eyes tightly. A wave of shame and regret washes over him, and something in his chest suddenly clenches so painfully that he can't stop a single tear from running down his temple and hiding somewhere in his hair. The pirate's face sinks at this.

"W-why are you crying?" he asks, concerned.

"I'm so sorry..." the man continues mumbling because he knows that it may be the only chance for him to voice all of his thoughts. What if Hongjoong never comes again? He has to let him know everything while he still can. "I never meant to hurt you with my pride. None of you. And I never... never wanted to let go of your hand. I'm sorry that I didn't find you... I..."

"Seonghwa."

"You have the right to haunt me every night. It was me, after all, who brought the demise upon you. You said it wasn't time to die, but my bad luck struck you as well... It's all my fault... It's..." Seonghwa looks like he's suffocating from all the emotions that he has never let himself share with anyone for fear of being pitied and shamed. It's only in these dreams that he can let go, showing this ugly side of him. The one that doesn't deserve to be respected. The only thing he can do is beg and hope that his pleas will be heard. "Please, promise you'll come back again. Don't stop haunting me. Don't let me forget... That it was all my fault."

"Shut up," the pirate whispers straight into his face, truly dumbfounded. "I never thought these years would ruin you so badly. I should've known better than to say such things to you instead of a greeting."

Hongjoong holds the man by the back of his neck, finally helping him sit up, and takes his face in his hands again, wiping the wet streaks away. It's probably the most emotional expression that he has ever seen on this man, and yet it is the sight of complete remorse and pain: his lips pursed and trembling and his eyes tightly shut, as if he's afraid to even look into the other man's face.

"It's me who should be sorry," the pirate reminds him, meeting their foreheads together to ground the man at least a little bit. "I smeared your reputation; I never brought you to that island of yours; and, look, I even made you lose your mind because of all the guilt you shouldn't have been carrying on your shoulders. Open your eyes, Seonghwa. Your nightmare has come alive."

His eyelashes are trembling, but Seonghwa gathers all of his willpower to open his eyes and look straight into the face of the man in front of him. The delirium still makes him feel dizzy, and his whole world is still wonky and blurry, but something seems off in this dream. The Hongjoong from his dreams is never talkative; he usually prefers to stare into Seonghwa's soul, driving him crazy from repentance and sorrow. The Hongjoong from his dreams is distant and cold. Ruthless. Unforgiving. But this Hongjoong is warm and cautious; he still wears his usual eye patch, but the look of his is so tender and empathetic that Seonghwa begins to doubt his sanity. There's only one way to know for sure.

Seonghwa takes the pirate's hand, which still rests on his cheek, in his two and starts to slowly count his fingers, bending each of them: one, and two, and three, and four... and five? Five total. He freezes in his spot, shocked by this revelation, but takes the second hand as well, just to make sure that he doesn't see things. One finger, two fingers, three fingers... Five. It's five again. The numbers never tend to add up in his dreams, so it must be... It must be that...

"You're real," the young man whispers under his breath, and he's not even sure whether he really managed to say it out loud until the face of the pirate lights up with the tiniest of smiles and he nods slowly, so as not to alarm the lost man in front of him. "Oh, God."

It's not like Seonghwa, but in this moment of pure insanity he can do nothing but hold this man tight by the shoulders, squeezing him in his arms, as if to check once again whether he is real. He feels like tears are about to flow from his eyes again, so he shuts them tight and bites his lip, mumbling barely audibly over the pirate's ear.

"Fuck that island and that treasure. I'm so happy that you're alive... And I'm so-- I'm so--"

Another lump gets stuck in his throat, and if he says even one more word, he will for sure turn into an ugly, whimpering mess, and it's so humiliating for him even to think about it that he feels immensely thankful that Hongjoong interrupts him at this very moment, softly patting his hair, before lightly pushing Seonghwa in his chest to see his face properly.

"You can't get rid of me that easily. You didn't even pay me back yet," he smiles softly, adding, "You said you are a man of your word, so I'm here to gather the fruit of our little deal."

Seonghwa knits his eyebrows in confusion. Don't get him wrong, he feels immense remorse for probably bringing so much pain and hardship to this man, but they never got to reach the objective, so why would he pay back? And, most importantly, how would he do that in his current situation when he ran away from the whole world with his two boys into the deep of the forest?

"You don't know that, Seonghwa, but actually you found that treasure of yours the very moment you locked your eyes with me for the first time in that inn," Hongjoong says as he notices how perplexed the other man is, and Seonghwa can swear that he can see the wicked lights dance in the darkness of his iris. "That's when your desire became mine, and if there's anything that I'm good at, it's reaching my destination no matter what it takes. So... I have a present for you."

The pirate untangles one of his hands from their awkward embrace and rummages through his pockets, fishing out something silver and small from it, showing it to Seonghwa on his palm. A ring. But not just a simple ring. The design of it is quirky, all decorated with thorns, just like... Just like the crown that they found that fateful day in the treasure chest.

Seonghwa, he hears his name out of nowhere. Take me.

The whisper is demanding and almost ominous, but as soon as Hongjoong picks the jewelry up with his fingers and brings it closer to his hand, it instantly dies down. It anticipates. Seonghwa can almost feel the excitement of the metal when he barely touches it, slipping it on his middle finger and glaring at it like it's the most unreal thing in this world. It fits him perfectly and feels so warm even through the thin fabric of his gloves that he is unsure whether it's the metal itself or the warmth of Hongjoong's hands that kept it that way.

"It will look so gorgeous on those lacy gloves that I made for you..." Hongjoong comments and notices another look of confusion on the other man's face. "Did you forget your promise already? You gave me your word that I would be able to make a perfect mannequin out of you after I would bring you to that island."

What? Why is he talking about it again? Isn't this ring made by some local smith? Don't tell him that it's real...

"That's why I'm here," the pirate continues. "To make sure you fulfill your part of the deal."

"You... you..." Seonghwa can't keep up with the thoughts in his head, so no coherent words come out of his mouth.

"I told you, it was not the time to die," the man smiles in turn, entertained by such a flabbergasted reaction from a former robot this person was. "I'm a man of my word as well, Park Seonghwa. And my part of the deal is done."

***

Their hut is not that spacious but cozy and warm: the wood crackles lightly in the fireplace, and the steamy cup of tea is warming Hongjoong's fingers, leaving a calming impression of a proper home. However, there's no one but Seonghwa here; he is yet to meet the boys, and he is almost ready for the calamity he will cause by his mere presence.

"The worst thing was"—Hongjoong hums for a second, mulling over his next words—"Mingi's company? Yes, it was probably Mingi."

The other man chuckles at that.

"But aren't you friends? It was you who asked me to have him on the team."

"Mingi is a talented carpenter, don't get me wrong. I would trust him blindly when it comes to maintaining my ship. But he is insufferable," the pirate sighs dramatically. "He can't shut up. He moans about everything. The first couple of months when we were alone there, I literally thought to myself that I may have died and this is actually my personal Purgatory."

Seonghwa can only imagine how excruciating it was for him to be stuck on the piece of land with no means of reaching out to the outer world. He suffered a lot just because of Seonghwa's ambitions. The least he can do is make it up to the man in hindsight.

"You left him on the island?" Seonghwa asks instead of voicing his thoughts, and the pirate nods.

"Someone has to keep an eye on it," Hongjoong explains, sipping his tea. "What if some other pirate crew finds out about a land full of treasures and manages to locate it somehow? We did what we could to protect the main treasury from the outsiders' eyes, but I can't guarantee anything until you pay a visit yourself."

Remnants of peasants' houses, some farmland overgrown with weeds, the scattered forest-like fields here and there, the ruins of an old castle on the very peak of the mountain, and the secret treasury hidden in its dungeons—that's what Hongjoong found on that island. There was much more evidence of life there than Seonghwa thought. All of these people had lives, and dreams, and plans for the future, but the natural disaster decided to take all of them down along with the despotic ruler of theirs. This island is a living monument to a tragedy. Seonghwa should do anything in his power to bring life back there; the remnants of the Eastern Mountains deserve to finally be at peace after mourning for so long.

"Tell me more about it," he asks quietly, trying to picture the scenery in his head. "What's it like?"

Hongjoong takes another sip before answering.

"I suppose that it is one of the peaks of the mountain, just like the other small islands to the east of the Pool. The soil is hard and sometimes rocky, scarcely covered with greenery, but the one near the shore is more sand-like, just like your typical beach. It won't be easy to raise crops there, so I would advise building some greenhouses instead, or else it will be hard to survive on plain rice. Plenty of fish and fowl though; if you prefer red meat, however, consider bringing cattle from the mainland."

"Huh?" Seonghwa raises his eyebrows. When he asked the question, he expected the pirate to describe the scenery, the way the sun rises over the peaks at dawn, the peculiarity of the tint of the water ridge, the smell of salt in the air or its humidity—anything. But instead he shared... the agriculture tips? The man batted his eyelashes in disbelief. "You want me to cultivate it?"

The pirate shrugged.

"You searched for it, so I supposed that you desired to spend your life there."

"I... I did," Seonghwa answers quietly, lowering his gaze to the floor. "But I'm afraid I actually never thought about it that thoroughly."

"You really need someone to ground you, Officer," Hongjoong giggles at him, as if he were a little boy, and adds, "Seeing a big picture is good, but the devil is in the details."

"I'm not an Officer anymore."

This phrase feels so usual on his tongue that he pronounces it almost unconsciously, and the barely controlled harshness of his voice strikes both of them out of the blue. He realizes his slip a second later, biting his tongue and mumbling a barely audible "Sorry", and Hongjoong doesn't dwell on it further, seeing his reaction.

"No, it's my bad," the pirate insists. "Would you mind if I referred to you by name only?"

"Be my guest," the other man shrugs.

"So what, Seonghwa?" Hongjoong breaks into the smallest of smiles, emphasizing his name. "What plans do you have for your island?"

Plans. Has Seonghwa really had any plans? Life has taught him not to plan ahead, or else someone may come and ruin it all before you even lay your hands on a prize. He lives from day to day, from dusk till dawn, and the limbo of days that look and feel the same has almost swallowed him alive. What would he do if he finally had a chance to meet his enemy and his dream?

"Want to see it," he answers honestly, touching the ring on his finger, which vibrates barely noticeably at the attention of its new owner. "Want to breathe the air there. Want to touch that ground and listen to the stories those rocks would tell me. Only they can share the truth. Only they can make my life make sense."

"What do you want to hear?" Hongjoong wonders. "Who were your parents, and why were they killed? Are you searching for your identity? Or do your aspirations come from the place of revenge? To see with your own eyes who you should destroy for taking your serene life from you?"

"My serene life..." Seonghwa laughs, raising his eyebrow skeptically. "Was it ever serene?"

"I won't judge any of your decisions. In fact, I would be mad as well if I were in your shoes."

Seonghwa knows that this man would be the last to judge him—he's a pirate, after all, so his sense of morals may be slightly different from an average citizen. But if he were to be honest, he genuinely does not want to spend his life hating. This feeling is exhausting; it's sucking his willpowers the more he thinks about potential avenging. For whom? None of his family members are alive. He won't be able to turn back time and return his previous life either. Why bother then?

"I'm not mad at my ancestors or their executioners," he sighs. "I guess I simply need to know where I stand in life, and it can only be possible if I know who I am."

"And after that?"

"After that?"

"When you get enough of reminiscing and wallowing in self-pity," Hongjoong smirks. "What are your next steps?"

The clock strikes six times, and the sound of it is the only thing that keeps Seonghwa from snapping at this man and his audacity. He only crosses his arms over his chest with a displeased look on his face.

"I suppose you have some advice for me."

"I do," the pirate nods.

"Do tell me, please."

Hongjoong places the mug back on the table and knocks on the wooden surface with his nail, grabbing the other man's attention.

"Take what's yours," the pirate advises. "Fake it till you make it. Turn that piece of land into your own little paradise until someone else finds out about it and takes it away."

"I'm bad at creating," the man confesses, running a hand through the silver of his hair in embarrassment. "I'm a soldier; I know how to protect and how to destroy."

Instead of a cold snicker that Seonghwa almost expected of him, the other man chooses to chuckle softly, drumming on the table as if he's genuinely entertained by the response.

"Is this your way of subtly asking for my hand again?" he asks with a cheshire smile, and Seonghwa can't help but swallow his pride at this question.

"Would this be something you will be interested in?" he wonders cautiously, choosing his words as carefully as he can so as not to admit his defeat that easily.

But the pirate doesn't push further; he only relaxes in his chair, picking up the mug again and mulling over the proposal for a while. The sound of a clock mechanism irritates Seonghwa's ear all the time until he finally opens his mouth again.

"Hmm, let's see..." Hongjoong clicks his tongue in an attempt to articulate his thoughts more clearly. "Seonghwa, what you should know is that I'm not a person who seeks settling. These years spent on a secluded island were quite an adventure, but at the same time, there wasn't a day where I didn't scream my lungs out out of frustration. Building a proper vessel is hard when the only instrument you have is a sword, you know? Almost impossible. I felt like a prisoner; that island was my cell, keeping me away from the beauty of the world. I want to see all of it while I still can. I would hate to sacrifice my whole life to one cursed piece of land, even if it belongs to you."

"Understandable," Seonghwa nods affirmatively, but he would lie if he said that this answer didn't make his stomach twist unpleasantly. "A free spirit like you shouldn't be held hostage in such a place."

"Could you consider inhabiting that piece of land instead of keeping it all to yourself?" Hongjoong asks in turn.

"That... would be perfect actually," the man scratches his head sheepishly. "The mountains long for human company; they sing about it all the time."

That's better, much better. Hongjoong has almost thought that the man desired to turn that island into his own dragon den, but with a bit of outside help, everything will be much easier.

"What do you think about sharing the land with other people?" he proposes. "No pay, only one condition: they should be the ones to cultivate it, build their homes, and create their little ventures if they wish to. You can even utilize those mountains of gold left by your ancestors and give out loans to those who are ready to risk it and follow you."

"That's..."

"That's the only way people would come to you," Hongjoong rushes to explain. "Those who were rejected by others but still have enough spark in them to start the fire if only given an opportunity. Your island could be the refuge for such poor souls who couldn't find purpose but are not afraid of working their way to become someone."

"I would love that," Seonghwa whispers. Just picturing this makes his heart throb with excitement; it would be perfect—the tiny piece of paradise in the middle of an ocean, which no one would dare take away from him.

Hongjoong notices the pure longing in his eyes, and his expression turns soft at the sight when he gifts the other man his smile.

"Alright. I will spread the word then," he promises. "But before that, you should reinvent yourself first. People should want to follow you, Seonghwa. What story will you tell them when they ask who you are?"

That's harder. Back in the day, the mere sound of his name could have opened any door in front of him, but now... Now he's not just a no one. He is a fugitive. A criminal who is considered to be dead, his ashes gone with the wind.

"I can't say the truth," he decides.

"You can, but you will probably attract some unwanted attention," Hongjoong answers honestly. He tries to say something more when he suddenly notices the weird glint in the other man's eyes and instantly understands what is on his mind. "No, I don't like that look. You want to ask another favor of me?"

"You seem like a person who people would like to follow," Seonghwa smirks at him, and the brunet rolls his eye in response.

"I told you, I'm not interested in free real estate," he jokes instead of answering.

"Well, I'm not telling you to spend your whole life there either."

"Ha, that's quite a wish! What would I get in return?" Hongjoong smiles, not expecting to hear anything in particular, but the older man suddenly turns serious.

"What do you want?" he wonders sincerely, as if he cannot even imagine how he may be of use to this man but still can't help but ask for his assistance. Because there's no one else he can rely on. Because this pirate, this fugitive, this ghost of a man might be the only person he genuinely trusts.

Hongjoong falls silent for some time. His fingers drum over the handle of his mug while he keeps the eye contact, mulling over the question. Takes a sip. Places the mug down. And huffs with a smirk.

"Some time ago, I rented this little study in the town not far away from here while I was searching for you. Want to see it?--" he asks, but the last words of his cue get silenced by the creak of the door.

"H-hyung?"

The dark-haired boy freezes in the doorframe; his knapsack slides down his shoulder, and the diversity of props falls out of it, smashing on the floor. His mouth is agape, and his fingers tremble until he chooses to grasp them into fists and hide them in the wide sleeves of his colorful hanfu. His chest rises and falls from a wave of shock, but no words leave his mouth for a couple of seconds, until he realizes that the image in front of him is not a mirage or a ghost.

"Oh no..." Hongjoong mouths, ready for the storm called "Wooyoung" to swallow him whole. And it's exactly what happens.

"YOU'RE ALIVE! OH MY GOD, HYUNG!" the boy screams his lungs out, plunging forth into the man and embracing him in the most torturous of hugs possible to make sure he is real. "I knew it! I just knew it that you would get back! Wait, why did it take you so long? Where's Mingi? Is he?.. Oh God, don't tell me that he didn't make it..."

Wooyoung steps away, covering his mouth in shock, but Hongjoong waves his hand and rushes to calm the boy down.

"He's safe and sound," he assures. The boy lets out a sigh of relief, and Hongjoong scratches his neck awkwardly, adding, "Ah, I knew that I should've paid a visit here closer to the evening so that all of you would be present and I wouldn't have to tell the same story again. Let's wait for San, shall we?"

"No, fuck San!" Wooyoung shoots out immediately, pushing Seonghwa in the side and occupying the spot in front of the pirate, ready to absorb the information. "I need to know everything now, hyung!"

The pirate chuckles at the boy's impatience, but he knows that Wooyoung will probably choke the words out of him forcefully if he doesn't spill the tea any time soon, so he chooses to oblige.

"Long story short: Mingi found me, and the wind took us to the piece of land ahead," he explains. "When I came to my senses, we tried to find a way to leave on the boat but decided against it: it was too dumb. So we had to spend some time on that island trying to survive in the wild and build at least a nice yacht to properly maneuver the waves by using the wind. We took some gold from the treasury we found in one of the ruins and sailed on a yacht straight to the nearby island, trying not to go into the waters where we knew the beast was. It took a while, and we almost keeled a couple of times but still successfully ended up on another piece of land where we chose a proper ship--"

"Gold? Treasury? Are you saying that?.. Sir, he's not saying that he found that island, right?" Wooyoung perks up in his seat, tapping Seonghwa's forearm in excitement and bewilderment. The blond only nods at him once, and he can already see how the boy's eyes become twice as big at the revelation. "Bloody hell, hyung! You are... Wow, that's so awesome! DOES THIS MEAN THAT WE'RE RICH?!"

"We?" Seonghwa repeats with an irony in his voice.

"Of course, I'm a part of your family, sir," the boy protests. "I deserve to be in your will!"

Hongjoong lets out a warm laugh, pointing at the brunet.

"See?" the pirate asks Seonghwa. "They want to go there already. It won't be a struggle to inhabit that island."

"You have a whole island to yourself now!" Wooyoung cannot stop jumping in his seat from excitement, gently tugging on the blond's wrist, like a kid, asking for a treat. In a second, however, he halts when a sudden thought enters his mind: "Should you... tell Seokjin?"

Seokjin...

The brief acquaintance that they had some time ago wasn't the smoothest of all. When their roads with the King crossed, when Seonghwa noticed the familiar black tourmaline amulet on him that he thought was long lost, the one that he personally gave to San to protect him, the one that Kim Jaehwan stole from them along with Seonghwa's treasure and later gifted to the King and his escort as a token of goodwill.... Oh, it made him so mad he was about to lose his mind, so he couldn't contain his anger and resorted to violence. The one maiming the royalty deserves the highest form of punishment, so it was a miracle that later Kim Seokjin pardoned him and his boys for their rudeness. To this day, he still isn't sure how his boys managed to win over the King's heart, even though he heard the bits and pieces of stories they shared during the time of their brief separation with Seonghwa.

The island was a different matter, though. The King might not hold grudges for the past, but the unknown lands have always been a sweet spot worth spilling blood for.

"I haven't decided yet," Seonghwa's previous smile dims at all these thoughts, and he turns away from the boy, but the hand jerks him back anyway, asking for attention.

"Seokjin won't take it away from you. I just know it," Wooyoung assures him with the most puppy eyes he ever had.

"He probably won't let me run it either," the blond doesn't agree, but Hongjoong knits his eyebrows at the name.

"Seokjin?" the pirate wonders. "Who's Seokjin?"

"Kim Seokjin. The King."

Now it's time for Hongjoong's jaw to fall open from astonishment. What exactly has happened while they were away from each other that Park Seonghwa (and even Wooyoung, for sea gods' sake!) has become acquainted with the King himself?

"Look, there are exactly two things you can do: you either side with Seokjin and take his protectorate, or risk it and wait for that bloodsucker to knock on your door one day when you least expect it," Wooyoung tries to knock some sense into the older man, and for the first time ever, Hongjoong sees how much the boy has grown up to actually be someone who can give advice to Seonghwa. The brunet tugs him by the hand again, a gesture he must've been accustomed to after all these years, and whines: "C'mon. Seokjin's a nice chap. And he even let us all go after everything we did! He doesn't hold any grudges!"

"Some people call Kim Jaehwan nice too," Seonghwa reminds him.

"Ugh, whatever. I tried to save your ass," the boy rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest performatively.

"I agree," Hongjoong says suddenly, and two pairs of eyes turn to him in a second.

"With what?" Seonghwa wonders.

"To be your scapegoat before the King," the pirate smiles in turn. He leans back in his chair, mulling over something when he adds, "Let's say an ambitious sea-roamer traveled around the country with his crew and found a previously unknown to men piece of land that he decided to take patronage of. Seems legit, right? It's just a mere coincidence that you were on my crew, and I decided to appoint you as one of the, what is that word, viceroys? Vassals? Whatever, you're an operational ruler, and I'm a factual one. Wooyoung and San can be High Elders, and I will find some jester attire for Mingi. Will that be enough for the King to believe that it has nothing to do with your desires to resurrect the Dragon clan or some shit? It will be my island in his eyes."

"Why is Mingi a jester?" Wooyoung starts asking important questions when he realizes: "No, wait, I'm not some oldfart to be called a High Elder!"

"You can be a Short Elder; I don't care, boy," Hongjoong waves him off.

"That's not what I--"

"And Yeosang?" Seonghwa interrupts the skirmish.

"Oh, right!" the pirate claps his hands at the thought. "I should contact Yeosangie again. I guess Jongho never really got to hand you my message if you were so shocked when you saw me."

Both of the men knit their eyebrows at the mentioning of some message.

"Jongho? A message? Did Jongho manage to escape after all?" Seonghwa wonders.

"A smart boy," Hongjoong nods. "We can have him as a General if he wants to."

This little skit almost seems like child's play, especially when Seonghwa sees the toothy grin of the pirate who is clearly having the time of his life, appointing his ex-crew members to the new roles. It does not seem real in the slightest, and the more Seonghwa thinks about it, the lower his shoulders sink.

"Do you genuinely think that the King won't take away my island just because we created an alternate reality type of government on it?" the blond wonders, sighing heavily.

"That's why we should first inhabit it a bit. It's not the ruler who makes their land but the people who live on it," Hongjoong points out and scratches his chin thoughtfully before adding, "I've been on these lands only for a week or so, but I've heard some notorious rumors about this blonde guy named S, who gathers youth around the region and sends them to this magical tournament type of thing on the Ridge where they can get insanely rich as long as they win it."

Oh.

"That's not the brightest page of my life," Seonghwa admits, turning away.

Living in the depth of the eastern woods of the River Valley with the boys, Seonghwa knew that he couldn't use his real identity anymore for fear of the past repeating itself and for fear of the boys getting even more hurt because of him. So naturally he couldn't possibly find himself a normal job, but shifting all of the responsibility of their survival to his boys' shoulders was not an option either, so he had to stoop so low as to get involved in the questionably legal affairs. His old ties with the Ridge played their role as well, and just like that, he found himself in the precarious position of the "gladiator recruiter" of the Cage: a massive amphitheater in the middle of the Western Mountains, where the fighters from all around the country fought on magic orbs—pulsars—in order to win the grand prize, which could change their pitiful lives forever. Naturally, most of the "gladiators" that he selected were the low-class vagrants from the slums, and this opportunity that he handed them was a blessing in disguise for most of them; however, there was one time when the fighter that he sent to the Cage was a nobleman. The King himself.

It's been quite some time since he has been doing what he was doing, recruiting those who are desperate or in need and getting a part of the wager himself from the tournament organizers. It's not something illegal or immoral: in fact, all of his recruits begged him to be given this chance (except maybe for the King himself, whom he sent to the tournament out of spite with purpose), but the gambling undertone of it still pings at his consciousness. It's not the money that people lose on that arena for gladiator-like magic orb matches. They play with their own lives because, even though all of the losers are said to be transported to the Academy to be healed after their countless injuries, tragic accidents may also happen. And the winner is still only one, getting the gold and the fame. All the others are destined to live with the reminder of this humiliating moment on top of their already shaky financial situation.

Yes, Seonghwa is definitely not a good man to seduce someone into such a fishy venture.

But what else can a renegade do if not some dirty behind-the-scenes business where no one will dare ask for his name or biography?

"Then consider this," Hongjoong attracts his attention with the snap of his fingers. "Instead of sending those poor souls to the lottery that can easily become their demise, give them a guaranteed winning ticket to your island. There's no one who can be more thankful for receiving a second chance than these kids. Didn't you do the same back in the days when you were a Guard? Wasn't it you who gave Jongho and Yunho an opportunity to become someone?"

Yunho...

Wasn't it Seonghwa as well who was the reason for their unfortunate fate?

"Think about it, Seonghwa," the pirate asks, his hands clasped in front of his face in a pleading motion when he stands up. Last but not least, he rummages in his pocket, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper and sliding it over the table towards the older man. "And when you make the final decision, pay me a visit. You can always take all the gold from that piece of land and blow it up entirely if you choose to abandon it. Don't rush."

Hongjoong spins on his heels, ready to call it a day and march right through the door, but the said door opens again, and the pirate freezes to the ground at the sight of another man, blocking the rays of the setting sun from blessing the house.

"Hyung?" the man asks shortly and steps inside the hut. The light finally falls on his face as well, and Hongjoong's jaw almost drops when he recognizes these features.

"San?" the pirate shouts in surprise, his eye the size of the moon when he takes in the difference in the physique between this man and the malnourished little boy who he remembers from years ago. "Why... Why are you so huge?"

"HYUNG!" San finally realizes that it's not a dream, and it is actually ridiculous how the puppies are so synchronized that even their reactions to Hongjoong are almost identical.

Except that San's reaction is a little more enthusiastic because the boy literally crushes the pirate in his arms, falling with him straight to the ground and rolling back and forth in delight as if he went completely nuts from happiness. No, fuck that, that's not a puppy. That's a whole-ass dog who grew up but didn't realize that they aren't small and cute anymore and should actually control their strength!

"Goddammit, you rascal, get off me!" Hongjoong spits out in a desperate need of air.

"No, what if you disappear again?!" the boy wails, throwing a leg over the man as well just so that he stays fully defeated and pinned to the floor, and sings, "I won't let you go, hyung, na-ah, never!"

"Motherfucker, you reek of sweat!" the pirate curses, continuing his weak attempts to break free. "I can't breathe, you stinky! Help!"

"Huh?" San stops in his tracks, genuinely scandalized by the comment. "Of course I'm sweaty! You think it's easy to work at a forge?"

"Ah, that's how your arms got so big..." Hongjoong guesses and throws a look towards the couple of men who idly sit at the table, watching the ridiculous scene that has been playing out in front of their eyes. "Hey, you! Dragon ass! Do something! Your puppy wants to kill me!!!"

Seonghwa chuckles at the order-like tone but still glances at the boy shortly, calling out to him with a stern look: "Sannie."

"But sir..." San whines, trying to stand his ground, but Seonghwa's tone gets lower immediately.

"Let him go," the blond presses.

The boy begrudgingly untangles his limbs from Hongjoong's, and the pirate can finally take at least a single breath of fresh air. Holy sea gods, why do kids grow so fast?

It takes him a couple of minutes of catching his breath and one mere look at San's puppy eyes to guess that the boy demands at least answers if he couldn't get the cuddles.

Shit... Now he will have to tell the story again.

***

Three knocks.

There is no bell near the front door, and Seonghwa isn't sure whether he was knocking loud enough for the host to hear, so he raises his fist again, ready to notify the house's owner of his arrival once more, this time louder, but the sound of a latch takes him off guard.

"Oh no, you should've warned me before showing up..." he hears a nagging voice as soon as the door opens, and the man in front of him runs his fingers through his slightly oily dark hair. He huffs, "It's not like it would be less messy here, but at least I could've put in some more effort."

Judging by his eyebags, hunched shoulders, and wrinkled clothes, Hongjoong is clearly tired and worn out from a sleepless night, but his eyes are glowing so brightly from pure happiness now that Seonghwa barely notices that he has no eye patch of his on. The odd eye winks at him when the pirate notices that Seonghwa freezes on his spot out of surprise and frankly stares at the other man, so he only coughs in his fist to hide his abashment.

"I don't mind," Seonghwa finally answers and steps inside.

Ever since he was a child, he thought that the order in your everyday life mirrors the order in your head. If your room or working place is messy, it only means one thing: you are chaotic as hell and shouldn't be trusted with any job. Hongjoong was by far the worst in his league: his study was all cluttered with remnants of various types of fabric and some kind of ornaments scattered over the floor, along with tons of papers with drawings and scribbles. Pure chaos. Almost an Armageddon. But somehow it makes Seonghwa smile instead of striking him with horror.

"So that's what you need a study for. Your hobby," he states matter-of-factly, watching his step carefully when he proceeds further into the room. At the window, right next to the desk with various sewing kit stuff piled up on it, he sees a headless torso dummy dressed in one of his pieces. It is rather simple: a white top and a black bottom, nothing that extravagant, but Seonghwa can't make himself turn away from it, studying it closer.

"You like that?" the pirate asks casually but still side-eyes the other man to see his reaction. Seonghwa smiles in turn, however, and he relaxes just a tiny bit.

"You always had an eye for things like that," the older man comments. He gets closer to the mannequin, running his finger down the shirt-frill. "It seems to be unfinished, though."

"It is," he nods and asks, "Do you want to try it on?"

That's not why Seonghwa came here. He thought they would discuss their plans for the island and establish who exactly they need as accomplices for this to work. He didn't expect that the pirate would make such a proposal as soon as he stepped over the threshold. But there's nothing wrong with it either. Besides, Seonghwa is sincerely intrigued whether this man really is as good as he paints it.

Hongjoong nods at the folding screen and immediately places the dummy behind it, leaving the man all to himself. The pirate can audibly hear him curse while he's trying to figure out the outfit but still stubbornly never asking for help for fear of being ridiculed. A couple of long minutes pass until the blond finally steps out from behind the screen, awkwardly stomping on one spot.

"Yes, it's clearly not finished," Seonghwa laughs lightheartedly, raising his arms and showing the bare skin of the biceps, where the fabric is still not mended. Hongjoong starts laughing as well, waving his hands.

"Hahah, no, that's the design," he assures. "I was talking about the bottom part; it's not done fully yet."

The pirate quickly scavenges through the sheets of paper on the desk and hands one of them to Seonghwa, pointing at it with his finger.

"Down here," he says. "There should be a half-skirt right below the corset."

Even without such a garment, this piece looks quite complete, but the half-skirt that Seonghwa sees on the design drawing gives this look an extra flavor that leaves a feeling of spice on the tip of his tongue. He can't quite see himself in such an image, but at the same time he can't help but feel the excitement whirl somewhere inside him. As a person who was used to wearing only some dull and uniform-like type of clothing, this experience is definitely like a breath of fresh air to his eyes.

"Interesting," the older man mumbles, unable to say anything else as a reaction. However, even such a reserved type of praise makes the smallest of smiles appear on Hongjoong's lips.

"It will look gorgeous on you," the pirate assures him. "I just know it."

He studies Seonghwa carefully, probably calculating in his head which bits and pieces of the attire he should modify to fit better. This, however, doesn't last long, and the brunet swiftly takes the piece of paper from the grip of his mannequin and picks up an album instead.

"May I draw you?" Hongjoong asks suddenly, not daring to shift his gaze from the table, where he searches for his drawing supplies. He looks up only when the silence lasts for too long, and immediately, Seonghwa quietly nods as a yes. 

The pirate motions at the armchair near the wall, following the other man to it. Seonghwa guesses that he should sit there, so he instantly relaxes in the soft chair, casually throwing his hand over the backrest above his head and receiving a pleased smile in return. Hongjoong slaps his knee, gesturing to spread them and sit a bit closer to the edge in a half-lying manner. Lastly, the pirate "fixes" his hair, making it messily fall on his forehead, before he climbs on a high stool to adjust his perspective and witness the scene from above.

"Look at me," the pirate asks, and a pair of dark chocolate drops instantly dart in his direction, partially hidden behind the light fringe but still so powerful and intimidating that Hongjoong holds his breath at the sight. He almost wants to compliment the man but instead bites his tongue and asks, "Would it be fine if I asked you to stay like this for a bit?"

Seonghwa nods, never breaking the eye contact to make sure that the artist captures him as accurately as possible. He notes that Hongjoong is oddly minimalistic: he uses only a single piece of coal, a rubber, and his fingers. Seonghwa has never seen anyone draw like that, so his interest is piqued when he thinks about what kind of result he will see after the man is done. The drawing is always a reflection of its creator, and Seonghwa is dying to know what is in the pirate's head.

Minutes pass by, and the model's body starts to get sore in an uncomfortable position, but he never dares to even twitch in his place for fear of ruining the other man's design. The intense, studying look on Hongjoong's face keeps him pinned to the armchair, and when the pirate abruptly rises from his stool and his eyes leave Seonghwa's body, the latter almost winces at the sudden loss of attention. He opens his mouth to ask whether he did something wrong, but Hongjoong beats him to it.

"You can relax," he allows, stomping towards his desk and grabbing a piece of red chalk from his supplies. "I need to... do some finishing touches."

Oh, so the coal must have been only a rough draft!

But Hongjoong doesn't use anything else apart from that red chalk that he fetched later, so Seonghwa begins to think that his style must be extra simplistic after all. So intriguing...

"May I see it?" Seonghwa asks carefully, sulking slightly at the silent treatment. He doesn't know what's gotten into him, but his head may literally explode if he doesn't see the result right now.

"Why?" the other man raises his eyebrow sarcastically. "You can simply look in the mirror."

The model huffs in disbelief. He just spent so much time catering to this man's requests, and he still gets nothing in return? Not even a peek at the picture? A picture OF HIM, by the way, if this man has forgotten!

"Maybe I just want to know whether you are well-endowed in all types of art?" Seonghwa answers jokingly instead of voicing his complaints.

"I am quite endowed, thank you for asking," the pirate smirks in turn. He hesitates only for another second before he finally rises from his chair and hands the album to the other man, waiting for his reaction.

No one knows exactly how old Hongjoong is because he never shared anything about his personal life with anyone, but right now he looked like a sly little kid, hiding behind the fence and anticipating how his victim would fall for his silly cute prank: his eyes were expectantly beaming with interest, and a subtle smirk never seemed to leave his lips, even though his eyebrows were slightly knit, showing that despite his bravado he still cared about the other man's opinion. And oh, how Seonghwa wanted to tell him a word or two about the things he saw!

First things first, the drawing was immaculate: Seonghwa sincerely doesn't know anyone who would be able to portray so many little details just by playing with shadows. The gentle fall of the frill of the upper shirt, the glint of the buttons on the black corset that made the man seem way thinner than usual, the intricate cobweb of lines on the model's palm in his see-through black gloves, even the decrepit texture of the old armchair—nothing slipped away from the sharp eye of the artist and made it seem as if this drawing was breathing, so real, so tangible it was. But then there were also some details that never existed in the reality.

The dark, slightly wet-looking hair was framing his face with the longer strands of the fringe, emphasizing the sharp features even more; the tight half-skirt was adding an extra edge to the lean figure, shaping it akin to an hourglass, created by the tightness of the corset; and then there were also these scarlet details left by colored chalk... As if the deep-red cherry blossom tree that grew behind the window invaded the house all of a sudden and was throwing its petals everywhere over the model's body: on the hands, on the hair, stuck to the exposed skin and the clothing, pooling on the seat and at the man's feet. The intensity of the color varies, though, and Seonghwa can't help but notice how especially saturated it is on the white of his neck, as if the petals were only a cover-up for something else, like... body paint or...

"So... are you satisfied with the result?" the pirate asks, unable to contain his curiosity. Seonghwa has too much to say but, at the same time, too little to actually make sense in the pool of these weird emotions that he feels right now just by simply looking at the sheet of paper in his hands.

"You are very talented, Hongjoong," he finally answers. He pauses, not sure whether he wants to add or ask something, but opens his mouth once again, asking a completely different thing that wasn't even on his mind. "What do you want to do next? A clothing line?"

Hongjoong huffs at this proposal, biting his lip shyly.

"I doubt that anyone in this country will be able to pull it off."

"But it looks gorgeous," Seonghwa interjects.

"On you."

On you.

Seonghwa can hear how the echo of these words rings through his ears, and it almost makes him mad at how strange it makes him feel just for a mere second. He brushes this thought away, labeling it as "frustration" because of how cruel this world may be to artists who simply want to add a bit of beauty to our dull lives. But beauty can't bring bread to your table, so Hongjoong is probably right, saying that only the filthy rich may be interested in something fashionable, but to cater to their tastes could be another jigsaw puzzle that artists rarely get to unravel without sacrificing the initial concept.

That's what Hongjoong is alluding to, right?

"So what?" Seonghwa smiles ironically. "Is your new dream to be my personal tailor now?"

"Is that something you would be alright with?" the other man wonders, and the seriousness in his voice almost makes Seonghwa snap for real this time.

"You are wasting your talent, Hongjoong," he comments coldly, trying to knock some sense into the pirate, but the latter only smiles wider at that.

"But that's what I want," Hongjoong giggles. "It's not my fault that you are so perfect."

Seonghwa lifts his gaze from the album, genuinely concerned with the last remark. Why would he say things like that when he knows that his life is in shambles, literally at the point of no return and beyond repair? How could anyone regard him as "accomplished" in any meaning of this word if his existence is equal to nothing more than dust flying in the air? Seonghwa is a definition of unfortunate, cursed, and insignificant. The only thing he's "perfect" at is seeking problems for his ass...

Or is this man talking strictly about his visuals?..

Oh, in this case, his point is valid! But still, it's too surreal to think that anyone may discard their bright future for an opportunity to serve someone who merely pleases them visually. Seonghwa would never let him do that, even if he were serious about it.

"There's this new way of pastime in the Capital: it's called a 'fashion show'," Seonghwa says instead of dwelling on this topic further. "Artists present their pieces on models before the public; it's like an art exhibition but with clothing instead and in motion. Would it be something that you could be interested in?"

The devilish lights in Hongjoong's eyes turn bleak immediately, and his smile fades when he crosses his arms over his chest and sulks.

"The mere participation fee must be expensive as hell," he answers.

"You are well aware that we're acquainted with the King himself," the other man notes. "I could probably have a word for you here and there to alleviate some of your burdens."

"I don't want you to be indebted to anyone because of me," he hums, but Seonghwa only scoffs at that.

"No, you don't want me to be indebted to anyone else but you," he points out caustically. "Possessive much?"

The cat-like smile is plastered again all over the pirate's face, who seems to be genuinely entertained by this idea. If there is something that Hongjoong hates the most, it's to overcomplicate things. Would this become a chance or a burden to him? It's not like he seeks the company of the créme de la créme, as they call them in the Capital or wants to rub shoulders with them in order to sneak his way into their ranks. He doesn't need any external validation either, especially when it comes from the hidebound public, which waste their lives away in the idle pastime, their real faces hidden behind the ugly, hypocritical smiles. However, wouldn't it be... fun? To egg them on, to irritate them by spilling some lemon juice on their open wounds and rubbing them with salt on top. To ruin at least one of their cloudless, trouble-free days. To be so scandalous that their faces would become eternally twisted in disgust and jealousy because they wouldn't ever dare to do what some filthy, insignificant commoner could? Because the main thing that differs them is that Hongjoong doesn't care about his dear reputation. In fact, he would be on cloud nine if he were proclaimed the cancer of society and left alone.

"But what about models?" the pirate asks suddenly. "I don't want anyone but you. You said it yourself that I tend to become possessive when it comes to the things I like."

"Then make me the best piece you can think of," Seonghwa asks after a couple of seconds of contemplation. "As for the others, I would advise hiring models. Sharing is caring, Hongjoong."

The pirate laughs out loud, and the sound of it is so genuinely contagious that Seonghwa almost wants to beg pardon and ask what made him so jolly, but he doesn't get to do that because the answer becomes evident with the very next remark of the brunet.

"Is that what the puppies taught you?" he smirks, clicking his tongue as an emphasis.

Hongjoong knows too much for his own good. Seonghwa doubts that he really is aware of everything that concerns his humble persona, but the pirate does seem to be extra nosy when it comes to him. Sometimes Seonghwa wonders whether one or two visions that he had seen when they were apart had something to do with their rather unconventional personal life, which would explain his brazen attitude and sly insinuations. He dies to know what exactly goes on in this man's head, but this knowledge would come with concessions, and Seonghwa could never let him get an upper hand that easily.

"I'm sure you will manage," Seonghwa continues, disregarding the question. He looks down at his lap, where the album still lies, and knocks with his knuckle on the picture to attract attention. "You can even draw on me like that; I don't mind getting a bit dirty for you to shine. Red is a nice color anyway."

"It's not--" Hongjoong stammers halfway through his sentence and coughs. "I mean, you can call it drawing on a body, but it's certainly not to be done with paint."

Oh, fuck. So it really was what Seonghwa initially thought about when he saw the picture for the first time. All of his neck and chest, and even here and there on his arms under the thin, see-through fabric of his dress shirt—in Hongjoong's mind, his skin was all marked with...

"You can try with paint first," Seonghwa stops his thoughts with his own cue. "We'll see how it goes."

The pirate nods slowly, fully captivated by the implication in these words. By the second half mostly. Did he even hear it right, or was it something that his sick mind made up on the spot?..

"If you are done, I shall take this off," Seonghwa breathes out, finally standing up from the armchair. He already starts to undo the buttons on his way to the screen when the hand on his shoulder stops him mid-action. 

"Let me tailor it on you first."

Hongjoong rushes to the desk and looks through his sewing kit, tearing off a piece of red thread with his bare hands and presenting it to the other man when he returns.

"Bite on it, will you?"

Seonghwa skeptically raises his eyebrow.

"Is this another part of your 'vision' or whatever?"

"No, it's a superstition," the pirate smiles softly. "You shouldn't sew things on a person. But I really want it to turn out perfect, so in order to be able to mend it while you're still wearing it, you can help me out and bite this thread. They say that it negates the jinx."

The older man huffs loudly, closing his eyes in slight irritation. It's not that he believes in superstitions (at least, not in such dumb ones), but he simply doesn't want to waste his energy on arguing with Hongjoong, so he decides that it won't be that bad to listen to him just once. The corner of the pirate's lips twitches into an astonished smile when he sees the man open his mouth and lunge forward, biting the thin thread and tugging on it until Hongjoong lets go of its ends.

"The things I do for you..." Seonghwa hisses through clenched teeth.

"I still can't believe that you let me do all of this," the other man mumbles slowly as if enchanted. "Must be a fever dream or something."

Seonghwa snickers.

"Do you dream of me often?"

"More than can be deemed normal, I guess," the pirate clicks his tongue, giving an expert look to the mannequin's figure and instantly placing a couple of pins in some places that stand out to him the most.

"How did you even get my measurements?" the blond finally asked the question that was on his mind all this time.

"Had an eye on you," Hongjoong only says with a smirk.

Ugh. Fine. It seems like he will never know the answer.

"It looks like you have lost some weight since the last time we met," the brunet hums while pinching the fabric around Seonghwa's hips. "Shall we make it tighter here?"

"It's quite tight already."

"Not in the slightest. But if it makes you uncomfortable, please do not hesitate to say so," Hongjoong gets down on his knee to pin the fabric only slightly so that it doesn't add any extra visual weight to his model's figure. He raises his eyes at the other man and adds, just in case: "Or if I make you uncomfortable."

"Isn't that what you always do? Besides, your designs are way out of my comfort zone anyway."

Seonghwa says it with a smile, but even though his tone is clearly light-hearted, the pirate's expression dims.

"I thought... I thought you liked it."

"I do. I have a sense of taste, you know? I can tell when something is beautiful," the older man rushes to explain himself. "It's just that I still don't see myself fit in this style yet. I'm used to functional attire, not sophisticated one."

"Shut up. No one will ever look as good in it as you," Hongjoong rolls his eyes before he chuckles slyly: "And besides, what was the function of that sexy faux-corset on your officer coat? Driving your enemies insane when they see your tiny waist?"

"Hmm, this piece has a corset too. Let's see, does it work on you?" Seonghwa teases back.

"You still consider me your enemy?" the pirate raises his eyebrow.

"It was you who said that you're number one on the naughty boys' list," the other man reminds him, and the brunet can't help but laugh out loud at that.

"I wasn't lying. I am quite despicable," Hongjoong mumbles under his breath, peering into the other man's eyes intensely without blinking before his sight travels down his model's body and stops right where his hand still rests on his hip. The pirate tugs on the fabric just once before continuing, "See, I'm even taking you down with me, forcing you to do things you would never dare do otherwise. A true menace, aren't I?"

"That's how my life is these days. It has changed forever after meeting all of you on that ship."

"Ah, the puppies. Yeah, I've figured," the pirate turns his attention back to mending, leading the needle down the loose seam of the corset, but the sharp tip of it slips and scratches the skin on Seonghwa's waistline, making him suck in air and grit his teeth around the piece of thread he was still holding in his mouth. "Pardon. I didn't mean that."

"You didn't?" the man raises his eyebrow skeptically, biting on his tongue to control his expression when the pirate strokes his skin where it was pricked to soothe the pain and smiles.

"Not that naughty, I promise," he assures but hesitates for a second before adding, "It does work on me as well. The corset."

He stands up, leading his finger up the black piece of fabric on the waist, and steps behind the man, checking the seams along the way.

"I've always been vocal about it, actually, if you forgot," the pirate adds. Seonghwa can see his figure in the reflection of the mirror, and almost immediately their eyes meet, the brunet lowering his voice to a whisper, as if to tell a secret: "If it was for me, I would've dressed you in fitting attire all the time so that your figure could always be on full display like a real work of art it is."

"Sh-shut up," Seonghwa mutters, his ears turning red at the blatant compliments this man is showering him with. This was a bit too much even for him. It's embarrassing, even slightly humiliating, to know that someone has him under a looking glass 24/7 to come up to such a conclusion.

"I'm certainly not the only one who feels that way," Hongjoong notes and cuts the extra thread with scissors, turning his attention to the shoulder now, so close to Seonghwa he can actually feel his breath on his hot ears. He's almost sure the pirate is smiling viciously when he continues, "But I am the very man who can make it manifest into reality. Should we do that? Imagine how the puppies will like that."

The... puppies?

"Let me dress you up like a perfect doll and give you to them like a birthday present," Hongjoong offers, his voice still quiet and intimate, as if on purpose so that Seonghwa would concentrate on his words only. "We can think of it as a test of some sort. If the puppies like it, I can only imagine how people with proper taste will react. I bet I will have to mend it again afterwards with how feral your boys will go just after seeing you all pretty like that. But at least I won't have to draw the artificial marks on your neck anymore. They will help me with that, right?"

Hot. Seonghwa's face and his whole body felt the rush of heat, scorching him from the inside. It was an unusual feeling, something that Seonghwa denied he was even capable of, his soul nothing but a tranquil pile of ashes. But this time, in the ash and dust, deep within his chest, something twisted and turned, falling with a heavy weight into the pit of his stomach. 

He had to hold his breath so as not to let out a shaky exhale at the words that were tickling his ears. Even with his boys, he has never let that unaffected mask slip off his face, but maybe, just maybe, it was because he has never actually been the object of their desires. On the other hand, Hongjoong was meticulously feeding him these images and writing him into these lewd scenarios, and, for the first time in a good while, Seonghwa felt genuinely flustered.

No, he can't let Hongjoong do it to him so easily.

"Wouldn't you be devastated if your dear designs were to be ruined?" Seonghwa cleared his throat a bit too loudly for his liking.

"Oh my," Hongjoong gasped dramatically. "You? Ruined? In my clothes? That would be my literal dream."

Never in his life did Seonghwa feel like prey before, but in that moment, he was closer than ever to this experience. The fact that Hongjoong entertained this thought and admitted to it left Seonghwa stunned and speechless. He was frantically trying to figure the other man out, to read in his expression whether he was only joking, playing with his feelings or not, but the devils dancing in Hongjoong's eyes were already telling enough. And the most unexpected thing is that this exchange, the melodic sound of Hongjoong's voice, the light touch of his fingers mending the seams at the base of his neck—all of it was successfully clouding Seonghwa's head, keeping him under some spell.

"Beautiful," Hongjoong comments, giving the one last expert look all over his mannequin and lingering on certain places for a bit more time than he probably should've. "I may be wrong, but you seem to like the idea as well. Let's not make your bottoms more fitted, or else they won't leave anything to the imagination."

Seonghwa's eyes sharpen at the last comment. What a rascal!

"That look in your eyes right now, I love it," Hongjoong chuckles at the reaction. "Please, remember it. I want my model to look exactly like that."

"I finally get it," Seonghwa sighs.

"What?" Hongjoong asks, pinching the thread that the young man was still biting on and snatching it away to mark the ending of the mending session.

"I get why you are on that list."

"Only now?" the pirate laughs brightly.

None of the embarrassing teasing follows after that, though. The clothing piece goes back to its rightful place on the mannequin dummy while they spend the rest of the day sharing their ideas and plans about the island. Seonghwa would lie if he said that he brought up the fashion show topic to the pirate only because he wanted to help spread the word about Kim Hongjoong's talent. As much as he would hate to admit it, he needs the King's help, but receiving his audience is a complicated task even for Seonghwa. This event may become a good opportunity to carry out their plan in the least conspicuous manner. Letting the cat out of the bag before they finish all of their preparations might cost them everything.

He's already getting up to leave, exhausted after the long day spent on chatting and bickering, when Hongjoong holds him up by the door, offering a bundle to him.

"You can have it. This album," he says, and Seonghwa recognizes in it a sketchbook, which he has seen today already. "I made some sketches of your island. Thought you would like to see a preview of it before we set out for good."

Chapter Text

Seonghwa sent the letter to the King that very day.

He didn't have to wait for long for the reply either because the invitation to the annual fashion ball came swiftly without any questions (which may or may not have been even more suspicious). No matter how much he genuinely supported Hongjoong and thought that he was worthy of showing his art to the masses, for Seonghwa, this event was, to a bigger extent, just another opportunity to mark their territory and present themselves as valid players on the country's map. Or rather, to present Hongjoong and make his name known within the higher society. Their campaign of spreading the word about the island that is ready to welcome anyone who desires to start their lives anew and change them for the better was also bearing fruit and becoming almost an urban legend among the folk of the River Valley, so the rumors must've already reached the ears of the Capital residents. 

Everything was going according to Seonghwa's plan. 

Everything. Except for Hongjoong.

For weeks, he has been spending hours in Hongjoong's study, helping him with his artistic vision and... struggling to feel sane in his company. The friendly banter and strategizing somehow have always been glazed with something weirdly spicy underneath, keeping both of them on their toes around each other. 

That day he was also returning back home from their brainstorming session, where they had been settling down the last details regarding the first batch of people who were willing to travel across the sea to the piece of promised land. It was exciting. They would be able to see it even before Seonghwa... He sincerely hoped Mingi wouldn't kill them for stashing so much trouble on him, but as far as Seonghwa was concerned, the lands there were already inhabited by a couple of men from neighboring harbors, as soon as the Seonghwa greenlighted opening the island’s borders, so he won't be doing all of the work alone at least.

When Seonghwa crosses the threshold of their old hut, he can't help but choke on a chuckle seeing the couple of his puppies bickering around the dining table, both faces covered in something sticky white. When they jump on their spots from surprise, Seonghwa can finally see that apart from the various dishes on the table, the main attention-grabber is a neat angel cake, covered with whipping cream and decorated prettily with strawberries and blueberries.

"You said it was a big day, so we tried to make something special," Wooyoung mumbles, clearly flustered at the way the older man has caught them before the surprise was fully prepared.

Seonghwa steps closer to them, noticing how the boys' lips are red and lilac, stained with the juice of the berries they munched on while they were idly setting up the dinner, and their disheveled look is so painfully cute that his finger acts on its own when it reaches out towards Wooyoung's chin, gathering the cream on the very tip along with the strawberry stain and immediately licking it off. The sugar prickles his tongue pleasantly. It's not often that they can spoil each other with sweets these days, so the boys must've really gone through a lot of trouble just to please him.

"You hunted a pheasant today?" Seonghwa asks San instead of commenting on the mess after his eyes focus on one of the main course dishes.

"Mm, I did," the boy replies quietly.

"Wow," the blond genuinely admires the gesture. "Nowadays you are even more of a man than me, Sannie."

"I wanted to be of use," San only mutters shyly in response, pointing at the table. "Please, taste it. Youngie was working really hard all day."

Seonghwa loves evenings like these. Their "family gatherings", when they sit together around the table, sharing food and their daily pains, are one of his favorite ways of pastime. For the longest time of his life, he was so painfully alone that he didn't even realize how much he missed such casually intimate moments. Not to mention that Wooyoung was a wonderful cook, and anything made by his hands was always a gastronomic masterpiece.

"Very delicious. As always," Seonghwa smiles at his boys, licking his lips after he finishes his meal. He reaches towards the knife to cut the cake for everyone when his mouth decides to act on its own and add in a whisper, "Ah, I don't deserve you. I'm so lucky to have you."

Wooyoung smirks at the phrase, especially satisfied by successfully melting their ice prince's heart. He leans forward on his elbows, asking slyly, "Feels nice to return home where someone is waiting for you, doesn't it?"

"It does feel nice," the older man nods.

"I hope you won't disappear on us anymore then," the boy pouts. "Because if I wake up one day and you're not here... I will make Sannie hunt the hell out of you."

Seonghwa only chuckles at that.

Time heals, and time also makes you tougher. The little puppies that he took under his wing years ago were no longer helpless kids to be protected. They grew up, matured, and became stronger. Seonghwa genuinely believes that he couldn't have survived without them in this forest: without Wooyoung's cheerful demeanor that lightened up their days, without San's straightforward pragmatism, which helped them stay afloat before Seonghwa could figure out the way to provide for them.

He could smile even in the hardest moments of his life only because they were going through these trials together. And at this point, he couldn't possibly imagine how to live if they were to be separated.

"I--"

"What's this?" Wooyoung interrupts him, picking up some type of a notepad from the ground and dusting it off.

The sketchbook.

It must've fallen on the floor days ago when Seonghwa first brought it here.

"Oh, I completely forgot about it," Seonghwa admits, sheepishly scratching his head as he stands up to join the couple on the other side of the table.

The album Wooyoung brushes through is actually more of a journal: it contains numerous brief sketches of trees, and buildings, and animals, and landscapes—all accompanied by tiny scribbles of notes about something peculiar Hongjoong desired to point out. The notes are chaotic, cramped into one another, in an almost bestiary-like style, and Seonghwa can’t help but notice how much this style screams of Hongjoong: his carelessness, his impulsivity, his unpredictable nature that has always carried a flair of an unsolvable enigma.

"That's... your island?" Wooyoung bats his eyelashes uncertainly when a thought strikes him: "Hongjoong-hyung drew it?!"

Seonghwa bites the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress a sudden giddy smile, when he nods silently. Both of the boys gasp in awe, now studying the notes with twice the fervor, even though page after page after page they get progressively more… unstable? The handwriting becomes obscure, as if written by someone with severe hand tremors, less intelligible, the letters dancing around the page drunkenly, and the pictures merging all together into one coaly mush, a completely undecipherable mess, until…

"Oh?"

When Wooyoung turns the page, it is no more the sights of the island, or the descriptions of the vegetation, not even the comments on the steady process of Mingi going insane. It's Seonghwa. His eyes, his lips, the little sketches of how his nose looks in profile, over and over again to properly reflect the reality on paper. And then there're full portraits too in a whole row of emotions: him being angry, him being disappointed, with a brow sarcastically lifted, with a jaw clenched in determination, with a hint of a smile on his lips... Dozens if not hundreds of pictures—and all of them dedicated to him and him only.

"Hyung should teach me how to draw," San breaks the silence first, gently flipping through the pages. "If I knew how, I would've filled the notebooks with Youngie's face too."

Wooyoung giggles at his words and nudges the other boy shyly, the satisfied smile never leaving his lips. San doesn't elaborate more on that; the only sound in the room is him flipping another crinkly page, but as soon as he sees it, he doesn't dare move on further.

"Bloody hell," Wooyoung lets out in awe. "That's..."

The boys lose their ability to speak, their mouths agape at the sight of the last sketch—the one that Hongjoong made of him back in his study. A couple of weeks ago, when Seonghwa saw it for the first time, it didn't seem so... sensual to him, but after looking at it again, Seonghwa cannot help but shift his eyes away from the picture immediately as if he's been doing something naughty by simply witnessing it.

"That's a piece he's been working on currently," Seonghwa explains, clearing his throat as nonchalantly as he can. "He said you would like it."

Wooyoung shoots a look at him, and Seonghwa can swear that he sees the devilish lights appear in his eyes, so before the boy manages to comment on that, he adds more context: "He said you could help to style me that way."

"Naturally. I have just bought a new black dye for you," the boy easily agrees. "The aunty in the shoppe said that it should stay on your hair longer. Should we try it out first?"

Ah, indeed. Testing everything out beforehand is important. What if the dye doesn't stay on his stupid hair like it always does? What if Wooyoung won't be able to recreate the make up on the drawing? What if...

What if...

The boys don't let him ponder on it more, as they immediately lead him to the backyard, two pairs of hands undressing him up to the waist for the dye not to mar his clothes. San brings two buckets of water and a big mirror, holding it up in front of Seonghwa so that the older man could monitor the process, while Wooyoung prepares the paste in the mortar almost like a little herbalist.

It is rare for Seonghwa to be the center of attention in this household. Of course the couple of puppies never fails to bathe him in their love and affection, but in terms of care, it was always Seonghwa who looked after them, making sure his boys had everything necessary to enjoy their new humble lives. Now, though, he didn't even need to direct them in any way, as the couple took full control of the situation, doing the thing that they were the most professional at. Wooyoung's fingers in his hair are almost therapeutic, so gentle and careful that his whole body relaxes simply from these soft tingles that resonate through him with each touch, which turns his locks from the usual gray to the inconspicuous black. A perfect color to be blended with the crowd. A perfect color to become faceless again.

And even when the cold water touches his skin when the time comes to wash away the dye, it's his sweet boys' caring hands as well that handle him so tenderly as if he were fine china. Every single action is nothing but a silent declaration of love—and Seonghwa drowns in it by the end of the session, his head laden and his guard fully down. The peaceful lullaby of Wooyoung's fingertips hypnotizes him, the delicate brush of his makeup tools ever so slightly ticklish as he turns Seonghwa into a masterpiece step by step, accentuating the raw, fatal beauty that the older man possesses.

When his eyelashes flutter open and he sees himself in the mirror as Wooyoung stashes away his tools, Seonghwa's jaw drops at the visual in front of him. This man in the reflection is a carbon copy of the one in the sketch: the messy black strands framing his face, the fierce eyes obtaining a hooded, magnetic look to them, the sharp features that were always emanating power, and coldness, and ruthlessness, now softened by this pretty blush, barely noticeable over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

How was Hongjoong even able to see this in him? This fragile seductiveness that Seonghwa has never caught even a glimpse of...

Wasn't it something that he told Seonghwa before when he saw his bare hands? Something about how delicate they were, as if the gloves were his armor, never letting others know about the tenderness underneath.

"Shall we continue?" Wooyoung mutters quietly into his ear, leading the finger over the sketch for Seonghwa to see. "Right here. Seems like hyung wants this spot to be highlighted."

The very same fingertip lands on the side of Seonghwa's neck, gently caressing the spot over his popped artery, right where the dark red bit appears on the sketch. Seonghwa can't help but look up, seeing the darkened cat-like eyes of the boy looming above him, and for the first time, he feels like his mind is too numb to refuse his silent question.

"If that's what he wants," Seonghwa says under his breath, and the smallest of smirks appears on Wooyoung's lips.

Lightning bolts.

Tiny lightning bolts hit his skin each time Wooyoung's lips suck into him. His touch is nothing but loving and tender, but the more pretty marks start to bloom on his skin, the hotter Seonghwa's body feels, especially when he can clearly see the impact in real time through the mirror.

"There's so much more, sir," Wooyoung murmurs, and his voice vibrates through the recently left bruises, causing even more tingles. "Please, let Sannie help. I won't be able to finish all of it alone."

"Be my guest."

The permission falls from his lips even before he manages to process the question, and San doesn't need another sign to drop to his knees. Unlike Wooyoung, San prefers to work his way from the bottom up instead, and his body visibly trembles from excitement when he lifts up the leg of Seonghwa's trousers. His small mouth wraps around the spot just under the bone of Seonghwa's ankle, sucking a sweet little hickey into the older man's skin, so pliant and gentle that the visuals of him make Seonghwa literally set his jaw. The sensation of now two plush pairs of lips imprinting themselves into him is so foreign and yet so addicting, so unusually intoxicating, that Seonghwa can't really pinpoint whether it's the power over them that makes him drunk or something completely opposite. Something that almost feels like being at his boys' full mercy.

Even though he always had the freedom to pamper his boys however and whenever he felt like it, touching him was a hard taboo everyone in this household honored no matter how high on feelings they were. That is why he was so confused: how did it happen that he didn't feel the usual urge to slip away as soon as the first petal-like kiss landed on his skin? Why didn't his body jerk away instinctively like it always did before? Why did it make his heart beat faster the more he became decorated with sweet love-marks, perfectly mirroring Hongjoong's design?

Hongjoong?..

Was it because Hongjoong asked him to do it?..

Was it because Hongjoong left him a roadmap with specific instructions of how he expects him to be corrupted to become the perfect canvas for his art?..

No, scratch that.

It's just his boys. Of course it's them. He simply learned to trust them enough to let them get closer than before.

And of course it's just for one time.

***

It wasn't "one time".

Because weeks passed, and after this successful trial session, it soon came time for the night of the King's function. The decorations on his skin should've been renewed as well, but, as Seonghwa already knew what to expect, his body took it much better, his expression almost usually stoic through the whole process. Naturally, his boys tried to turn it into something more than just help, strategically pawing at his patience as they always did, but it took only one stern look for Wooyoung to withdraw his naughty hand from where it shouldn't have strayed.

As expected, the boys were sulking about not being able to tag along with Seonghwa for his journey to the Capital. However, even they understood that this visit wasn't a jolly getaway, so they could only wish the older man good luck before the carriage took off. The sights of the River Valley were captivating in their lush green beauty, but the architecture of the Capital itself—the chunky buildings made of all monolith rocks whispering around every corner—took his breath away completely. Seonghwa's ears never itched so badly as he attempted to silence the constant rambling that he never asked for. It took him a conscious effort to control his breathing and switch it off, pretending not to care about all the juicy rumors the rocks were willing to indulge in.

The chamber at the King's palace where they were led to was no less stunning, almost reminiscent of the times when Seonghwa served for the Governor of the Pool. However, even he wouldn't fail to point out how, compared to the sophisticated nature of the Pool, the Capital's architecture seemed more modest and even brute. The influence of the grim northern Crest was definitely palpable, he concluded.

The models who volunteered to assist them this night were all cramped in one chamber with folding screens provided to preserve decency. It was still a mystery for Seonghwa how Hongjoong was able to create multiple unique pieces all by himself, but then again, the man had years of solitude to brighten up with his hobby, so he shouldn't be that surprised at the pirate's productivity. Even though the fashion show was just an excuse for them to seek the King's audience in private, Hongjoong still carefully monitored the process of preparation, assisting the volunteers in any way he could. The private restroom seemed like a good spot for Seonghwa to change in peace from all this commotion, so he doesn't alert anyone before disappearing there with a set of his clothes for tonight.

He is already reaching out towards the heap of clothes to wear the top part of the look when Hongjoong flies into the room unannounced (ah, he didn't lock the door...).

"Oh," the pirate mumbles, startled, and quickly shuts them away from the rest of the room, his eyes digging into the naked skin of Seonghwa's shoulder blades before it gets covered with the shirt.

"It's fine. I'm almost done," Seonghwa lets him stay as he buttons the top hastily.

His fingers, clad in leather, seem to be too stiff for a task that requires fine motor skills, so the buttoning process takes a bit too long, and Hongjoong huffs softly before taking the matter into his hands. It doesn't escape Seonghwa the way the other man's gaze shifts all over the visible patches of his skin, trying to take in all of the little marks that peek out from behind the thin fabric.

"Wow," Hongjoong sighs, not even trying to hide his blatant stares. "It's almost too precise. Did you show them the drawing?"

"I did," Seonghwa nods.

A soft chuckle from Hongjoong is barely audible while he grabs a corset-like black piece to button it over the white shirt, outlining the slim figure even more strikingly. He still regrets not giving this outfit a skirt to make Seonghwa resemble a bottle of his favorite liquor, but overdoing it would've been even more annoying, especially with the recent hot weather that made it impossible to wear multiple thick layers without suffocating.

"They liked the idea. I would say, maybe even a little too much," Seonghwa continues in the most disinterested tone he can muster.

"No-no, it's perfect. I'm happy at least the puppies agree with me on that," Hongjoong mutters, and the tip of his tongue swiftly sweeps over his lower lip at that thought—blink and you'll miss it—but Seonghwa doesn't, his eyes refusing to look away from the glistening spot for a good couple of seconds until his focus shifts to the feeling of warmth over his hand. "May I?"

Oh, his gloves...

Indeed, Hongjoong mentioned before that he was making a new lacy set for him to feature this particular look. Seonghwa would've lied if he said that he wasn't excited to see them.

Biting on the inner part of his cheek, he nods, and it's the only permission Hongjoong needs.

On the drawing, only the blind man wouldn't notice the marks left on the gentle canvas of Seonghwa's hands; however, when the thick leather fabric slides off, it reveals instead a perfectly pristine skin with no blemish in sight. Seonghwa may have let his puppies close enough to bite into him, but the most prized possession that was constantly driving them crazy was still an unreachable milestone for them, as unattainable as ever, and Hongjoong could feel his pulse speed up just from this thought alone. The blood rushes immediately down as he observes how Seonghwa's hand gracefully dives into the sheer black glove he holds in front of him and secures the accessory tightly enough around the wrist with decorative strings for it not to slip off. And when the thorn-like ring from the Dragon clan's treasury slides on his ring finger with no resistance whatsoever, there's no way for Hongjoong to stay collected anymore.

This man really is his fantasy personified. Alive and warm and standing in front of him, eagerly accepting every new modification to his look...

Holy sea gods, it will be a long day.

"Want to see yourself?" Hongjoong mutters into the air, his eyes unfocused, but as soon as his peripheral vision notices another small nod from the other man, he doesn't lose any second to turn Seonghwa towards the mirror, standing behind him to catch his reaction when the last piece will be added to finish this look.

Hongjoong picks up a massive jewelry piece from the box that he brought with him, fixing it around Seonghwa's neck and letting it keep the collar of the shirt in the proper upright position. The silver of it is smooth and reflects the light beautifully, and the pearls that hang lower seem to visually elongate his silhouette and give the look a more coquettish feel. Last but not least, the similar-styled dangling earring is brought to his left ear, and he is already taking in air in his lungs to ask Hongjoong not to do it, but the pirate slips it in too swiftly for him to begin to voice out his discontent.

How... did he know? How did he even know that Seonghwa had his ear pierced? It was something that the puppies begged him for constantly, basically wearing him out with their non-stop crocodile tears, so he had to make concessions in the form of a single, small hole in the left side, which was almost always covered by his outgrown hair. Seonghwa never wore any earrings, and the holes in his ears are objectively too tiny for anyone to notice their existence at all, so how did Hongjoong--

Something close to his ear giggles barely audibly. It's not Hongjoong, and the voice generally doesn't seem human-like at all. But the giggle is persistent and almost creepy, and he barely registers that it's actually coming from the earring itself. The minerals in it have found something so amusing that they couldn't keep shut.

"Clueless, he-he~ So clueless!" the voice mocks him, making Seonghwa furrow his brows even more. "Look up, dummy!"

When he follows the advice, the first thing that his eyes instinctively fix on is Hongjoong's face in the mirror, and the look of his is something so raw that Seonghwa has probably never witnessed. It seems like the pirate is not blinking at all when he blatantly burns holes in the other man's figure because Seonghwa looks just like a fever dream of his, and the mere sight of him like this leaves Hongjoong light-headed and dumbfounded, his hands finding purchase on the thin of Seonghwa's waist so as not to faint from the overdose of oxygen. Especially when he thinks about the second outfit that he prepared, which features a long leather coat with a backless window that would give a perfect view to Seonghwa's toned back, the lizard-like jewelry the only thing that would adorn his spine and probably leave the crowd salivating uncontrollably.

It's something that Seonghwa's never let himself be: soft, and sensitive, and alluring, and vulnerable, but in Hongjoong's hands (literally and figuratively), he was ready to risk it and bring this vision to life so beautifully. Hongjoong is so emotional from this realization that he can't make himself let go of the other man's waist, only digging his fingers deeper into the skin there and kneading on it, like a kitten would do to their emotional support toy.

"So perfect, Seonghwa. I want to steal all your clothes and dress you only like that. And these fucking hickeys, shit..." the pirate whines and bumps his forehead into Seonghwa's left shoulder, breathing in the scent of his perfume, as if along with it, he could sense the way those marks were left. It's almost too much how his own imagination can turn him into a vertical puddle when it comes to this man.

"You said my boys would ruin the attire, but look at you, crumpling the fabric with your own hands now," Seonghwa comments, watching how the poor corset gets all wrinkly because of the man that can't stop tugging on the fabric here and there, drawing circles with his thumbs on the other man's back.

"Wanna ruin it so bad," he slurs under his breath in a brief fit of insanity. "It will look even better after that, I just know it."

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa calls out to him just barely audibly, but his voice is firm and confident, so the pirate can do nothing but open his eye and peer into his mannequin's face with the last bits of his mental strength. "The show is starting. Don't forget why you're here."

Hongjoong's black pupil almost fully covers his whole iris now when he stares at the other man, breathing through his mouth to calm himself down faster. His thoughts are written all over his face, and his desires are clear from the way he still clutches Seonghwa's waist with his hands, but the intention of that phrase successfully cools his head.

"What if that's exactly why I'm here?" he wonders.

Seonghwa breaks into an all-knowing smile.

"Then it will be so dumb of you."

"Please, elaborate. I'm dying to know why you think so."

"Because it will ruin the very thing you enjoy the most."

"And that is?"

"The dance on the edge of a blade. Do you really want to end it so quickly, even though it makes you so excited that you can't think straight?" The older man runs his fingertips just above the pirate's hand but never really touches it; even through the thin of the glove, Hongjoong can feel their heat on the back of his hand, which makes his hairs stand on end, but apart from that, he gets nothing more. Seonghwa continues, looking him straight in the eye in the mirror: "It's fine. You can take a step back any second. And I can assure you that I will follow along, no questions asked. After all, this dance takes two."

Hongjoong licks his lips, thinking that it's probably the hottest proposal he ever received in his life. But at the same time, it's the most infuriating one. How dare this man read him so well? How can he be so sure that that's what Hongjoong wants?

"Ha, I do like it when you're on edge like this," the pirate scoffs at his words, feeling the hint of weakness in the air even despite Seonghwa's efforts to cover it up with his signature nonchalance. He tsks, slowly taking in the sight of the other man's body in the mirror. "Suddenly, your shoulders relax, your gait changes, your movements turn smoother, your skin glows and becomes hotter, and your eyes... the look that usually pierces now scorches. The rational side of me knows that it's mostly your puppies doing. But what I know as well is that you seem even more in that headspace when you're here, in my presence. I feel honored, even if you're still on your journey to accept it and admit it to yourself."

"Accept what?"

"That you're nothing but a scaredy-cat."

However, the pirate steps back, just as he was asked, stealing one more glance at the reflection of his model before turning away completely.

"Impeccable," he compliments him once again. "I'm sure you will be the star of the night; this piece, indeed, fits you much better today."

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, mentally agreeing that the clothes indeed seem to be tighter on him than earlier. Knits his brows: "Did you actually seize the bottoms down?"

"No," the pirate huffs, throwing a jacket over his shoulders, ready to set off. "How could I? The dozens of eyes would be too distracted if I did. And it's a dance only for two, you said."

Hongjoong sticks his tongue out like a little kid and turns towards the exit, waving his hand.

"See you there! The butler will help you with the second outfit."

***

The wine in the King's chalice stays forgotten for a good while as the man himself seems to be lost deep in thought, his fingers slowly tapping on the armrest of his throne, eyes unfocused and blank. As soon as a stray hand picks up the chalice, though, his senses instantly come back to him; Seokjin silently frowns at the tall blond man to his left who dared to steal his tableware right in front of his nose, even more so at a public event like this where anyone can witness the disrespect his subject regards him with.

"You won't drink it anyway," the blond explains himself and rolls his eyes before chugging the thick red drink. His tongue prickles with tiny little needles from alcohol and sourness, but the faint feeling of nausea lingers only for a mere second before the chemicals in his body easily overpower the liquor.

"Kim Namjoon," Seokjin says sternly even though his voice is not loud enough to alert the guests. "I would hate my advisor to get drunk on such an important occasion. Please, behave for once."

"I can't get drunk, and you know it," Namjoon sighs but places the chalice down nevertheless.

Everyone knows who Kim Namjoon is. "The King's whisperer," some will say. "The notorious massage parlor owner," others will add, mumbling something about a particular crimson room one should check out while there to receive the ultimate pleasure from their experience.

But there will hardly be a single soul whose voice will turn quieter than a mouse when they whisper a cautious: "H-he is not... not human." Guests around them will chuckle and joke that, yes, some of his clients indeed call him a God for a reason, but only that person and Namjoon himself will know the truth. That Kim Namjoon is nothing but an incubus keeping this city tightly wrapped around his finger and feeding on their vices. A Capital is such a buffet for him indeed.

"When is Yoongi coming?" Namjoon asks suddenly, always so nosy when it comes to the King's lover.

"He is not," Seokjin responds and hears an annoyed click of the tongue in turn. "I have heard he is hunting for restless souls with Taehyung in the Wood."

"So that means I'm stuck with you here."

"Should I remind you that this is the job you signed up for willingly to save that dumb mutt of yours?"

The blond bares his teeth at the King but hides them immediately after, composing himself.

"Pardon me, Your Majesty," Namjoon hisses, and the way he pronounces the title makes it sound almost like a curse. "Didn't mean to offend Your Highness."

Being a pet demon for the King was the most humiliating thing Namjoon could've imagined, but there was nothing else he could offer in turn to make sure those dear to him were safe from the hand of law, which was already tightening a rope around their throat. However, being a whisperer wasn't a particularly demanding job either, especially for Namjoon, with the eyes to literally see through people and fish out their dirty secrets written on their skin one by one. That's why he was at the King's function as well: to monitor the rambling crowd of noblemen and keep them in the palm of the King's hand.

Namjoon was also no stranger to admiring beauty in all its forms and shapes, so the show that the dozen of artists meticulously prepared to appease the public and the King himself was eye candy to the demon as well. Mentally, he already took notes: the fabrics, the hues, the patterns of the designs, and the way the crowd reacted to them—anything was useful to Namjoon, who strived to keep up with trends in his business as well. He wouldn't lie that this year wasn't among the most dull ones: the models all covered, the silhouettes all shapeless, the themes all puritan and genteel. Namjoon blatantly yawned by the middle of the show, his eyes getting tired of the same pastel vanilla bullshit sprinkled with sweet smiles and proper manners.

He can literally feel it with his skin when something shifts in the air. The abundance of airy, princess-like layers gives room to the sleek and neat, almost uniform-styled designs with an unusual twist to them: the impractical chain loops that draw attention to the silhouette, the chunky boots elongating the models' figures with leather straps snaking up their legs, the patches of skin too visible in the places that were always meant to be hidden: under their arms, in the crease of their slim waists, in the prettily embroidered windows on their chests... The makeup of the models is also minimal but striking, smeared here and there to give them an even more unbothered look while they walk through the hall, making the whole room fall silent and flabbergasted.

These pieces weren't made to promote yourself or appease the King. These are personal, raw, with some sort of story behind them that shouldn't be told just to anyone and everyone. Compared to this one, all the previous designs that Namjoon witnessed before lacked one important thing every person should possess to be able to create art: pure lust. The uncontrollable fire inside you, fueling you to create piece after piece in an attempt to extinguish the persistent flame that burns through you but never really getting there, leaving you cursed to keep on writing the same serenade and revamping it over and over again until you perish with the sound of it on your lips.

The unattainable desire, wrapped in the finest silks and decorated with lace: that's what Namjoon sees when his gaze falls on this particular person with smudged makeup and a perfect pokerface. This set is one of the least revealing ones, but it is also among the most infuriating ones because it is almost impossible for Namjoon not to notice what it hides beneath. One, two, three—at least three particular human traces can be distinguished on his body, the traces that reek of poorly suppressed thirst of three different people, and not even the thick material of his clothes can conceal the beautiful multicolored marks all over his skin from Namjoon's prying eyes that light up dark green in his excitement. It almost smells like lust in the air, and Namjoon licks his lips at the sight, dreaming only about getting inside the head of this person and their artist. Oh, how sweet he could make this nightmare for them... Would any one of them even hate it enough to wake up?..

"This is the most mouth-watering thing I’ve seen in the longest time," Namjoon mumbles with his eyes still fixed on the model's figure even after he turns on his heels to disappear in the faraway hall. "I've never been so jealous of the other man before."

"Searching for new talents for your 'massage parlor'?" the King chuckles.

"Not at all," the blond shakes his head. "But the traces I see are quite... intriguing. Even for someone like me."

He sees the same man again once more at the end of their part of the show: the strict white shirt under the long black leather coat almost makes him sigh anticlimatically, and even the cinching on the model's waist doesn't lift Namjoon's spirits enough. But as soon as the man turns around, Namjoon leans his head to the side in interest. The whole of his glorious, toned back is proudly visible through the backless window of the coat, and the only thing that blocks the audience from seeing the vertebrae of his spine is an elegant, bejeweled adornment that stretches vertically like a little pet dragon, digging into his skin with their tiny claws. 

He tries to see more of it, counting in his head how expensive the precious stones encrusted on such a peculiar accessory could be, but his back suddenly feels cold. Some people call it scopaesthesia, the ability to feel that someone's staring at you, but when Namjoon turns away from the model, he can swear that he's not just being stared at. Someone is giving him an evil eye.

By the time he finds the culprit, the man with an eye patch, who is currently striding forward to greet the King like all other artists have done before him, already turns his gaze away. But his demeanor is still far from friendly or at least laid-back; his jaws are tightly clenched and lips pursed in displeasure, and only before bowing to the King does his expression lighten up so as not to be deemed rude. The King nods to him as well, and the man turns on his heels, immediately walking away not to take much time and let the show continue smoothly.

"The artist," Namjoon whispers into the King's ear. "Be careful with him; there's a whole Pandora's box behind that eye patch."

"What do you mean?" Seokjin knits his eyebrows.

"Can't say for sure. Just gives me chills for some reason," the blond sighs in unease.

He can't possibly tell Seokjin everything that he has just seen, right? What if it's just nothing after all? What if it's just Namjoon's sixth sense barking up the wrong tree? In this game of power play, you better be safe than sorry.

***

"You've changed." Hongjoong sizes the other man up, noticing how Seonghwa has switched to his first outfit again. The other man clears his throat and lowers his voice just so that in the crowd full of people no one hears his words.

"I... don't feel safe walking around with my back open," he admits, not looking the pirate in eye.

The crowd around them is lost in their revelry and merriment; the loud laughs, the high-pitched conversations, the clank of wineglasses, the abundance of liquor and refreshments—the dangerous cocktail of it spins their heads, making it harder to concentrate on the cause. Seonghwa snatches the glass out of Hongjoong's fingers the very moment the other man picks it up from the tray: he knows everything about the pirate's uncontrollable addiction, and he's not ready to shoulder the conversation with the King alone while Hongjoong would party the night away.

"We have to pay respects to the King properly," Seonghwa insists and finishes the glass in one go to accentuate his point. The alcohol feels like fire in his throat, even though it's just wine, and he immediately regrets his decision, but at least the pirate doesn't have the temptation in front of his nose anymore.

Hongjoong scoffs at the other man, but before they set out, he turns around and grabs Seonghwa by the elbow, his words barely intelligible when he asks, "Remember I told you about the green-eyed people from my lands?"

"Yes," Seonghwa nods affirmatively.

"That man near the King. Don't talk to him. Don't look at him. Act as if he doesn't exist."

Seonghwa's eyes cautiously shift from the pirate's face to the man by the King's side. It is not quite noticeable from this distance, but no one can deny that Kim Namjoon indeed has unusually hazel-colored eyes, the green of theirs drowning in yellowish-brown hues. Beautiful and yet so strange.

"Why?" Seonghwa looks back at the pirate, not quite grasping what the issue is. "Didn't you say that the green-eyed are blessed souls?"

"Not the corrupted ones," Hongjoong shakes his head. "There's nothing 'blessed' about him anymore. And the curse that he shoulders is contagious."

Years ago, while warning him of danger, this man would enjoy the process of riling Seonghwa up and blatantly taunt him with his insinuations, but now... Now, Hongjoong is more serious than ever, and this new, matured expression on his face is what troubles Seonghwa the most. Because if that man is able to make someone like Hongjoong lose their characteristic smirk and wit, anyone else should be on maximum alert as well.

When they notice that the crowd near the King has dispersed, they step closer towards the golden throne, greeting His Majesty with a deep, respectful bow. And only when Kim Seokjin chuckles at them lightly, showing how pleased he is, do they dare straighten their backs and face the man himself.

"How the turns have tabled..." Seokjin mumbles under his breath, and even though all three other men raise their brows at his wording, they never try to correct the monarch. Everyone knows that Kim Seokjin has gone through a lot of struggles before ascending to the throne, so he may still blabber nonsense due to his multiple encounters with dark magic that left an odd imprint on him to this day. The King clicks his tongue, nodding at Seonghwa when he adds, "Last time, it was me who was in your feet, waiting for you to decide my fate, but now, you came to me by your own will."

"Allow me to deliver a personal apology to you, Your Majesty." Seonghwa doesn't lose any time to lower to his knee, head bent in remorse. "Our first meeting was an utter misunderstanding, and I shall atone for my actions until the end of time."

Indeed, his pride doesn't cost a thing anymore when so much is at stake. Both of them know that their encounter in the forest was nothing but an emotionally charged conflict, and at this point, it only takes a step forward from either of them to let the unfortunate memory of it perish. Of course, Seonghwa wouldn't expect the King to be the one to forgive him unconditionally, so it was in his best interest to apologize as profoundly as possible to appease the monarch's ego.

"Stand up," Seokjin orders, and his face turns wry for a second at the demonstrative gesture, but as soon as Seonghwa complies, his eyes shoot in the direction of the pirate, sizing him up cautiously. "So this must be the talented acquaintance of yours who you wrote about in your letter."

"Kim Hongjoong," Namjoon suddenly chimes in with a sly smile on his lips. "You have pretty eyes."

"Likewise, Kim Namjoon," Hongjoong holds his gaze firmly but doesn't let the other man dwell on this topic further, turning back towards the King: "Your Majesty, there is a matter that deserves your attention. We would hate to ruin such a beautiful night with political talk, but keeping this secret away from the King is nothing short of treason."

The wrinkle between Seokjin's brows becomes more pronounced at that, and he looks over the hall to briefly check on the guests before nodding and setting out with the two men. However, as soon as Namjoon steps in their direction as well, the pirate swiftly places his palm forward between them, stopping him in his tracks.

"I'm afraid it's a private matter," Hongjoong explains, and Seokjin waves his hand, dismissing his whisperer at that, even though the expression on the face of the latter doesn't show any sign of willingness to obey the order.

The King leads them to one of the studies nearby, where the loud sounds of the music are almost fully muted, letting them concentrate on the important topic. However, with each their word, Seokjin's face turns drier and drier.

"You want me to declare war on Kim Jaehwan?" the King scoffs at the news. "As far as I understand, this piece of land was the part of the Pool in ancient times."

"Technically, it's closer to the eastern point of the River Valey than to the Pool," Seonghwa corrects him. "Not to mention that the waters between these two chunks of land are inhabited by the sea monsters who only wait to munch on the reckless captains and their crews."

"So only you two know how to navigate in these waters and how to locate the island?" Seokjin nods, already aware of the answer.

"Yes," Hongjoong confirms. "And I can share this knowledge with you to establish proper trade relations between the region of the River Valley and the island as... an autonomous barony within its borders."

Seokjin's jaw drops at the suggestion, flabbergasted by such an obnoxious offer.

"Barony, huh?" he chuckles sarcastically, pinching his brow. "Tell me why I shouldn't call the Guard right now to simply torture all this information out of you two?"

"Because you're not Kim Jaehwan, Your Majesty," the pirate points out with his characteristic all-knowing smile. "As a King of this country, you are to always keep your head cool instead of relying on emotions, and you know that our agreement will be the beginning of a mutually beneficial deal. Both politically and economically."

Hongjoong pulls a small notepad out of his inner pocket, handing it towards Seokjin, who cautiously accepts it. This little journal is but a more concise copy of that sketchbook that he gave to Seonghwa before, and it contains all of the notes on the island's fauna and flora and also on some more notable, even region-exclusive phenomena: the rare exhibits of wood, the plenty of exotic seafood, the rich mines that haven't been explored for centuries... It is the Capital that would be able to strike the deal first before the word is let out and others get to know about the peculiar gem in the middle of the sea.

"So. Is it my protectorate that you desire?" the King guesses, and the two other men breathe out internally at his positive reaction, realizing that the hardest part is over.

"Your legal recognition, above all," Seonghwa says. "However, sending your trusted people to the island will prove to be a win-win as well, as this way, you will not only provide aid to a promising project but will also have your eyes and ears there to make sure everything goes smoothly."

It is evident how pleased the King is left with this proposal; his lips acquire a smirk before he manages to control his face and step forward, turning the journal back and stretching out his hands to both of the men for a handshake to seal the deal.

"You shall receive my full support. Prove yourselves to me," Seokjin says. "And worry not, my guards shall assist you on the journey."

The two pairs of hands immediately accept his handshake. It's a great honor to be able to become the King's business partner, but receiving a blessing to touch the living deity that the monarch is... That's the pinnacle of the success ladder. What else can a mortal even wish for at this point?

"I like the surname Choi, Your Majesty. It has good feng shui," Hongjoong bows his head lightly in reverence.

A bold request, especially for the River Valley natives, whose last names were mainly Kim, Park, or Lee. The Choi families were plenty in the Pool area, so maybe that's why the one-eyed man asked for it specifically—they wanted an islander on their team. Or that's what Seokjin thought, at least.

"You are in for a treat then because I do have exactly one Choi in the Guard. Choi Jongho," the King pronounces the name by syllables just to humor the other man.

He doesn't notice how Seonghwa's eyes light up at the mention of it; in turn, Hongjoong only chuckles at the sound of it.

"What a good name it is, indeed," the pirate agrees without dispute.

Chapter Text

Park Seonghwa can't drink.

No one knows this fact because in the past, while being a high-ranked Officer, he couldn't possibly indulge in drinking, which would be unacceptable for a role model he was. Naturally, none of his colleagues could assume that abstinence from alcohol was a personal choice and not just a harsh military rule. However, what Seonghwa knows is that his escort for today is a bit too much into hitting that bottle, and the possibility of Hongjoong letting his hair down and becoming too talkative for his own good scares him even more.

That's why when Hongjoong reaches out for the last glass on the table by the wall, Seonghwa doesn't waste time thinking too much before stealing it swiftly from his hands, just like he did an hour ago. He can already feel the way the first shot has been sucked into his bloodstream, spinning his head slightly, but no matter what, he cannot let the pirate get access to alcohol—his life depends on it.

The content of the glass flushes down his throat in one go, and if his eyes could see Hongjoong's aura, he would notice it turned fiery red in his temper.

"You won't let me break my dry spell today, will you?" Hongjoong growls through his teeth and receives a nod in return. The way Seonghwa's face never fails to turn sour from the taste of liquor gives him a bit of sadistic satisfaction before he adds, "Alright. So be it. But I will get as tight as a tick as soon as we hit the very first inn on our way to your island."

Hongjoong gives him a single judging look before he demonstratively struts out of the hall because what's even the point in a party without drinks? And Seonghwa regrets his choice. He does. The lightness his stride acquires plays a sick joke on him because on his way through the crowd, he bumps into another guest—a young man with a knife-edged jaw and sharp eyes, almost deep burgundy in their darkness. Seonghwa freezes for a second longer than he should have (the newly developed perceptiveness of his be damned), but even though this man gives him chills for some reason, he still can't find any objective ground for his suspicions and only nods in apology.

He wants to continue his journey towards the exit, but his ears suddenly tickle, catching a bit of the spicy gossip shared by a group of men in front of him. They throw a heavy look at the back of the pirate who disappears behind the doors, and one of them—a middle-aged dirty-blond man with the aristocratic curve of the brow and the deadliest case of resting bitch face—tsks sarcastically, shifting his eyes towards his companions.

"The shorty. Who is that? I have never heard of him," he says, his jaw muscles flexing at the thought of the pirate.

"Kim Hongjoong," the other man from their company circle recalls the name by the syllables, humming softly before he concludes, "Indeed, me neither. He is not from the Capital, as far as I know. But you have to admit, his designs--"

"--are just as revolting as him," the first man snickers. The wine in his hand threatens to spill from his glass in his emotional outcry. "Pure raunch, yuck. But what else can we expect from a one-eyed freak?"

A soft melody of entertained chuckles follows from his friends, and one of them even raises his glass in the air to commemorate his words as a toast, so even before Seonghwa realizes it, he already abruptly invites himself into the circle, startling the men with his presence.

"Was that a hint of jealousy in your voice?" Seonghwa leans towards the blond, squeezing his shoulder painfully. The latter screams shortly because of the impact and slaps Seonghwa's hand pathetically, but he never backs away, cooing, "It's okay. I can help you rock the same eye garment permanently. Are you interested? Just say a word."

The blond only purses his lips and turns his face away, not accustomed to such a direct type of confrontation, even though his face clearly flames up red in anger and humiliation.

"Sir--" one of his friends calls out to Seonghwa, ready to pull the clearly inebriated stranger away any moment now.

"No need to be nervous," Seonghwa waves him off, pushing the blond in the shoulder as he lets go of him. "I don't intend to mingle in your company for long. I would hate to catch your odor on my clothes and stink like a pitiful sewer rat for the rest of the night."

The blondie opens his mouth to spit something caustic in turn as well, but Seonghwa already leaves their makeshift circle, never paying any attention to the snobbish aristocrats and their deeply offended mugs. Maybe he could've stayed quiet and ignored their banter if the alcohol had not crumbled his perfect emotion control that he always bragged about so much. Or maybe he just wants to find a reason to shift the blame to something else so as not to admit that any attempt to hurt Hongjoong is personal to him. That he would've easily acted on his threats if that man had continued spewing dirt on the beauty that Hongjoong oh so generously had let them behold.

In any case, the party is over for Seonghwa. He aimlessly wanders around the castle in solitude, his scattered thoughts a mess, until his feet hurt a bit too much and he can't keep his eyes fully open in exhaustion, so the best decision that he can muster is to return to their chamber and finally change. And of course, by this time, it's fully empty; all the models that kept this space packed must've left hours ago, and now only Hongjoong was sitting on the chair facing the door, as if patiently waiting for him to come back to wrap up the day. When he lazily comes closer and notices something glistening in Hongjoong's ear, he finally recognizes the familiar pearls on his cuff that remind him of his own earring, the one that was laughing at him before the show but now was deadly silent.

The pirate only raises his eyebrows at him, silently asking what's the matter, but how could Seonghwa admit that he has just barked at the King's guests for daring to badmouth Hongjoong? That would be very loser of him.

"As much as your clothes feel nice on my skin, these fucking shoes are a goddamn torture device," Seonghwa complains instead, putting his foot up on the chair where the pirate is sitting right between his legs. The other man lowers his gaze and then raises his head inquisitively, startled by such a bold move. What's gotten into him suddenly?

"So what? You want me to create footwear as well?" Hongjoong wonders but decides to comply as he pulls on the string, easily undoing the quirky lace design for the other man. His motions are lazy but somehow rough and antsy, not at all as gentle as he was during the fitting.

"Are you... capable?" Seonghwa asks, slightly shocked by how quickly this man picks up on his wishes and rushes to solve his issues. "Isn't that a whole different area?"

"I'm a quick learner. Especially if I'm motivated," the pirate notes, holding the other man by the ankle to finally slip the shoe off and discard it behind his back like some trash without even looking. Instead, his eye fixes on the red marks and the bruised skin, which are left from the tight footwear. Hongjoong wants to take that pain away, but he knows that he can do nothing to help, so he simply tries not to touch the sores when he runs his finger just above the skin. "You know... I've heard rumors of you. That you were burned alive but rose like a phoenix from the ashes. And still, your skin gets bruised so easily. How is that possible? Shouldn't you heal after such insignificant damage as well?"

"I didn't heal. I was healed," Seonghwa explains, not diving deeper into the explanations, but even that makes the pirate's brows furrow.

"Oh. So, you're not--" Hongjoong mumbles under his breath, interrupting himself halfway. "I almost thought that you would become the Aurora from that story, painfully watching how everyone you love would turn old and die. Such a life would've been a true hell. You don't deserve that."

The genuine words touch Seonghwa a bit more than he expected them to, and he even turns away to keep his face straight, but the next phrase that he hears makes him turn back immediately.

"But that explains why the hickeys stayed on your skin as well," Hongjoong continues his ruminating, noticing the peculiar lovebite left just above the ankle. Chuckles. "For a second, I thought that you went too hard on your puppies tonight for such marks to be able to bloom."

Seonghwa blinks stupidly at him, trying to understand his train of thought, or maybe it's just the effect of liquor that slows his thought process down, but when he belatedly figures out what Hongjoong actually meant, he can't keep laughter to himself, shaking slightly as he chuckles.

"My apologies. You seem to be mistaken about the nature of our relationship," the older man says, wiping away the stray tear in his eye that escaped as he laughed a bit too heartily. "I'm not involved in their sexual life. At least not directly as you seem to assume."

"W-what?" Hongjoong tilts his head to the side in astonishment.

"I prefer watching over them. You may even call it being a caretaker," Seonghwa explains, trying to pick the words carefully as he goes on. "I mean, I can touch them, and kiss them, and direct them, but I never really take part in anything."

The pirate stays silent for a good minute, his expression so stupid and confused that Seonghwa barely stops himself from laughing out loud again.

"B-but why?" Hongjoong stutters in astonishment.

"Why?" Seonghwa parrots, shocked that the other man even asked him such a question as if refusing the puppies is the most unthinkable thing in the world. But now that he thinks of it, maybe there is a reason. "I guess... they are already perfect the way they are. I'm there to enjoy the show and guide them if needed, but that's about it. And moreover, it's so entertaining to watch them try their best to lure me into their little games even though they know for sure they will never get what they want."

Now it's Hongjoong's turn to let out a chuckle.

"Your level of self-control must be much higher than mine," the pirate mumbles, shaking his head.

"Nothing a military-trained man can't handle," Seonghwa shrugs, and Hongjoong snickers at the wording.

"That's what they teach you in the Guard? Ew, didn't know you were just a bunch of perverts."

"Lust is an emotion, and it can be controlled as well as any other: shock, anger, fright..."

"But that's the most fascinating thing about you," Hongjoong points out. "The way you were like a literal piece of stone years ago, but now, after spending so much time with the puppies, your stoic mask seems to be almost gone."

"I tend to do that with people who I know well," Seonghwa agrees.

"I'm honored," the pirate smiles softly. "I like to see emotions on your face. Especially in moments like these."

"Like these?"

"When you're so relaxed you don't even realize how slowly and steadily your skin becomes hotter and your eyes get darker, clouded with those emotions you're so afraid of," Hongjoong's voice becomes barely audible when he drinks in the sight in front of him, but his words make the other man break the eye contact almost immediately, reflecting on his remark. The pirate whines at that: "Don't. Don't look away. I like it when you let go bit by bit. Makes me feel special."

"How did we get here again?" Seonghwa sighs.

"As I said, I'm really shit at self-control," the other man admits with a smile. "I enjoy our exchanges; they keep me fueled. But at the same time, I feel this hunger gnawing at my guts. I'm so fucking jealous of your puppies, even though the treatment that they get is still far from what would satisfy me."

"How do you know what exactly they get?" Seonghwa wonders.

"Hmm, I just know that they're too well-mannered when it comes to you," Hongjoong explains, and his finger barely brushes the little mark on Seonghwa's ankle, but the touch there is too ticklish for the latter to endure, so he slips away from his hold, finally stepping down. The pirate smirks, looking up. "On the other hand, I would've sabotaged all that funky relationship of yours just to shoot a shot. The prize is too precious."

The wave of heat comes back to Seonghwa once again when their eyes meet, and even the barely tight corset seems to be suffocating him, so he can't stop himself from ripping it apart from himself and throwing it somewhere on the couch nearby. How does this man dare talk to him like this? What does he even know? What are the secrets behind his eye patch, those dreams that he never shares but only leaves you with vague hints?

He could order Hongjoong and pull any information he desires from him, but he consciously chooses not to. Hongjoong could be 100% transparent with him, but he chooses not to as well. Because what's the fun in that?

"Do you need some privacy?" Hongjoong asks.

Privacy, huh? As if Seonghwa will get it with your all-seeing odd eye!

As the pirate attempts to stand up, Seonghwa pushes him down by the shoulder to stay where he is. The eye patch. Yes, that's what drives Seonghwa crazy the most. All the answers that he needs are behind it. Just as the real Hongjoong that only he is allowed to see.

"I hate that eye patch of yours. And I hate that you have to hide yourself behind it," Seonghwa grumbles suddenly, reaching his hand forward to play with the strings quickly and tug on them just out of pure whim. The garment falls down in an instant, making the other man flinch and close his eyes in surprise, but as soon as he opens them and glances at the older man, Seonghwa beams immediately. Somehow, without the eye patch, this man looks younger and softer. Almost... cute? He bites his tongue to keep this comment from falling from his lips, or else the pirate might take offense. Instead, he mumbles, "Like this. This is much better."

"Scandalous! What are you trying to do?" Hongjoong exclaims theatrically, covering himself with his hands, like a bashful damsel. "What a scoundrel. You didn't even ask for permission before undressing me!"

Seonghwa could feel the laughter rising higher in his windpipe at this comment. It's unbelievable how easy it is for this man to manipulate his emotions, to lift his spirits with a single hilarious comment when, back in the day, he thought that he would never dare laugh ever again. His chest seems to be lighter when he realizes that only now does he feel more at peace than ever.

"Undressing?" he raises his eyebrow sarcastically and adds, "Don't fret. I haven't even started yet."

"I shall do it for you then. After all, I should cater to my model at least once," the pirate chuckles in turn, guiding his hand towards Seonghwa's shirt, undoing the buttons on it in a swift motion. Without a corset, it barely takes a couple of seconds for the tanned skin to see the light of day, and Hongjoong almost smirks at the sight, but suddenly his smile fades and eyebrows knit. Something doesn't add up. "You... your skin really is unharmed. Fully."

"Why would it be otherwise?" Seonghwa huffs lightly at the comment.

"I've heard that nothing but ashes remained of you in that fire. How is it possible that your body was reconstructed in its pristine state? How can the scars disappear all at once?" the pirate asks, confused, and the other man sways his head ambiguously.

"I told you I was healed by a very powerful light-bearer."

"Yes, but I thought that at least somewhere there could be a sign--"

"My turn," Seonghwa bites back, cutting the talk short. What is that? It's almost like the unfamiliar excitement runs through his veins when he mirrors the other man's actions: one button, second one, third one, until...

"Stop," the pirate asks quietly, and the other man immediately halts but can't help but notice the strange shadow on Hongjoong's chest, so he tugs on the fabric ever so slightly, just to make sure that he doesn't see things.

But the shadow doesn't end there. In fact, the thing that Seonghwa saw was only the starting whirl of the weird pattern that probably went all the way down the pirate's chest and stomach. The mutilated, swollen skin is colored in unnatural pinkish and whitish hues that make the older man gasp at the sight. Scars? What on Earth can leave such ugly marks? It's not a novelty to be covered in blade wounds when you lead the life of a sea-roaming wolf, but Seonghwa knows exactly how they look. These, in turn, were more like burns.

"W-what is that? I--" Seonghwa can't help but stutter, trying to see more of the wound, but the pirate holds him firmly by the wrist, making sure that he won't budge.

"I said don't," Hongjoong repeats, this time coldly.

"There's--"

"I want a step back," the pirate spits out firmly, his eyes full of determination, and the other man moves away as soon as the request falls from his lips.

It's as if millions of red lights flicker under Seonghwa's eyelids, and although he knows that it wasn't him who hurt this man, he still feels his stomach twist for some reason. He wants to ask, to help, to understand, but he heard all he needed in that one little sentence to know better. He overstepped. That's what happens when he lets his hair down a bit more than usual.

"Pardon me," he mumbles, nodding in apology. He takes off the other shoe that he still had on and turns around on his heels, throwing over his shoulder, "I shall change in a different room. It was a long day."

That's why emotions are bad. You make mistakes when you're driven by them. The cold and indifferent Seonghwa would've never hurt Hongjoong with his selfish curiosity. Maybe that's exactly what he should do: step back and reflect on his behavior. Or maybe... he was never meant to allow himself to feel anyway.

***

"The day is beautiful. Why don't we take a stroll around the city?"

As if nothing happened yesterday, Hongjoong was standing on his doorstep with a usual half-smirk on his face as soon as the morning came. The smile gets even bigger when he notices the disheveled bird’s nest on Seonghwa's head, who was not expecting visitors at such an early hour. The dye on his hair has already started to peel off overnight like a dry snakeskin, revealing the real grayish blond underneath, and even though it's much safer for him to wander around the Capital without his usual disguise, it was still risky for someone with such recognizable features as his. But as always, Hongjoong has an answer for this too, as he slides the weightless black cloak off his shoulders to gently weave it around Seonghwa and fix the barely sheer hood of it over his stubborn hair with hidden clips.

Will it be like this all the time now? Seonghwa can't bring himself to hate it because at this point, Hongjoong seems like a magic key to solving any hustle that comes up on his journey. But is it something that Seonghwa can let himself be? Just another burden falling on Hongjoong's shoulders.

The pirate doesn't seem to care, though. Hongjoong stubbornly pushes his aloof partner through the cobbled streets, mesmerized by the views of the big city, where every corner attracts your eye. They wander for hours through the crowds of people, admiring the landscapes and the architecture and barely talking, before they find themselves near the market, and Hongjoong's eye literally sparkles from the sight.

You know how they usually view dragons? The big, atrocious creatures that sit on their mountains of treasures, never letting anyone creep closer to them and only adding more and more artifacts to their collection to admire and scrutinize. That's what anyone could've assumed Seonghwa to be due to his particular ancestry, but, surprisingly, in the abundance of stalls with various goods, it is Hongjoong whose head spins from excitement as he hops around the market street almost like a little crow, attracted by the blinding lights of the myriad of trinkets laid out in front of him.

"Want this. And this. Look, it suits you so well!" Hongjoong purrs in approval as he tries some sort of a hair pin on Seonghwa's head. "Yes, when you grow out your hair even more, you will be able to place it over a bun! Adorable!"

"Hongjoong, please," the other man sighs in exhaustion.

"No-no-no, this is a perfect place for us to be. It gives me inspiration!" the pirate insists, and before Seonghwa runs away, he tugs the older man towards the next stall by the arm. "Look! What do you think of these trinkets? Your sword needs some decoration too, after all. Where is it, by the way?"

Both turn silent for a second. Seonghwa lost his sword long ago on the land that doesn't remember his name anymore. He has never been especially possessive when it came to his belongings, so losing any of his personal things wasn't a tragedy for him, but the very idea of his sword being buried with his previous life seemed like a fated coincidence. A sword should be carried by a noble man with good intentions, benevolent and gracious in nature; a rogue, on the contrary, can do away with whatever else they get their hands on: they don't have to play by the rules of the gentlemen that the sword requires from them.

But Hongjoong was far from "nobility", and he carried a sword as well, so maybe... Maybe Seonghwa was a bit too harsh on himself.

"I haven't wielded a sword in a while," he decides to respond curtly.

"You're missing out then," Hongjoong disapproves of the other man's carelessness. He hums when he picks up two trinkets in the air—green and gray—both of the same design adorned with a jade in the center; another hum of approval, and the pirate nudges Seonghwa to pick one for himself, adding, "We can always practice together. Let's say, just put this tassel on the hilt of your sword, and I will know that you're up to a good fight."

"Fighting with you?" Seonghwa huffs, but the ghost of an entertained smile still appears on his face when he tugs on the gray tassel, choosing it for himself. "I'm afraid if that's the case, it will have to hang there permanently then."

"I'm not against that at all," Hongjoong chuckles loudly at these words. "Fighting with swords or tongues—I don't mind any of these."

"Are you going to buy it or just keep on hitting on each other?" the seller grumbles suddenly, clearly fed up by these two, and the pirate clears his throat, rummaging in his purse.

"Yes-yes, I'll pay."

"Oh, come on!" A commotion nearby makes Seonghwa turn his head to the source of the noise. In the midst of the crowd of town dwellers, a pair of men were pushing forward a huge cart filled with coal. The one in the front almost lost his balance when the man in the back suddenly tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, the cart heeling to the side under its weight with the chunks of ore falling out. It was the front man shouting, but instead of lending his friend a helping hand, he only pushed him in the shoulder with all his might, continuing his preaching, "What are you doing? Get up, you idiot! We still have— Ah!"

This shouting of his is much louder than the previous wails. The sounds are not nagging anymore but are filled with genuine dread when the body of the other man doesn't show any sign of life and only cranes to the side like a mere puppet without a puppeteer. The shrourd around his body untangles, and the cape falls back, showing his face, and Seonghwa genuinely tries not to look at it, tries not to get involved in whatever drama this town is sucking him into, but when his eyes catch a glimpse of this man's features, he cannot make himself turn away anymore.

"That's..." he mouths, sparing a single glance towards Hongjoong to make sure he doesn't see things, and the pirate responds only by pursing his lips with a serious look on his face.

The next thing Seonghwa knows is that he's already flying towards the unconscious man in the shroud, picking him up by the neck and lightly slapping him on the cheeks to return him back to his senses. His skin is even more pale than Seonghwa remembers, despite it being covered by a whole layer of dirt and sweat, and it's so cold to touch that it is actually terrifying. The chapped, thin lips are open in an attempt to get some air but fail to catch any, only making short, ragged inhales time and again. The broken nose, the split eyebrow, and by far the worst... the grayish hair that doesn't suit his young face—all of it sends goosebumps over Seonghwa's skin the more he looks at the man who seems to have become a mere shadow of what his name used to mean in the past.

The name. The name that Seonghwa didn't dare bring up all these years.

"Yunho," he lets out finally, gritting his teeth in distress as he shakes the other man by his shoulders. "Hey! Can you hear me?"

It takes a couple more attempts, but it seems like the bits of consciousness are finally trying to break through the fog in the younger man's head, as he slowly raises his tired eyes on Seonghwa. The latter may be wrong, but it's almost like his look turns softer at the vision, filled with the usual warmth that Yunho used to shower him in day by day.

"You are"—Yunho whispers between his exasperated inhales, a faint smile playing on his lips—"the first to meet me... on the other side... Officer."

"On the other side?" Seonghwa repeats, confused, but he doesn't get to wonder more because the body in his arms becomes fully limp the very next second, and no matter what he does, the other man doesn't open his eyes anymore.

Everything in front of Seonghwa's eyes becomes a blur. The mush of people, of shouts, of green grass and gray ground under his feet as he runs, of barely recognizable weight of the thin body in his arms, of Hongjoong's silent but warm presence nearby, his hand keeping Seonghwa steady on his feet as he knocks on the door with the other one... Of the dozens of smells of herbs and spices that hit his senses as the magician helps them lay the unconscious body on the table.

"He..." Seonghwa finally snaps back to reality, realizing that the herbalist (Baekhyun, was it?) is waiting for him to catch his breath and explain himself after they have invaded his shoppe like a hurricane. "He fainted out of the blue! His pulse is weak, and I don't know what to do. Please, please, save him."

Seonghwa doesn't know whether his words make sense or whether his panicked blabbering has even reached the herbalist's ears, but despite their sudden and rushed arrival, the man still nods at them, unwrapping the disheveled stranger on his table from the dirty rags. There is no one else in this town besides Baekhyun who can help them, and if he says that it's a dead case, then... Then what?

"I will examine him first," Baekhyun explains, checking the vitals in the meantime. "Now tell me, does he have any condition?"

"I-I don't know. W-we haven’t seen each other in years..." Seonghwa stammers, and it's so unusual for Hongjoong to see him so affected, so fidgety, that the concerned wrinkle that has been between his eyebrows all this time since the incident in the town square is finally smoothing out. He really cares for that boy, huh. Even despite everything.

"I see," the magician sighs as he raises his hand with an orb of a yellow pulsar conjuring on his palm, which he presses straight into Yunho's solar plexus.

The warm light spreads through the patient's whole body and returns back into Baekhyun's hand, making him frown deeper at the sight, which doesn't escape Seonghwa's eyes.

"What? What is wrong with him?" he asks immediately.

"It's easier to say what is right with him," the herbalist sighs again. He stretches his neck, probably trying to find better wording for whatever he's about to say. "His whole body is... rotting. His lungs and heart look like the ones of an old man. I've seen something like this before but in the northern regions. Is he a miner?"

"I-I don't know," Seonghwa replies honestly. "Can you cure him? Money isn't a problem! Just do everything you can."

"Well, I can fix his nose for sure," Baekhyun clicks his tongue and instantly fixes the bone on the patient's face in one precise motion. He then picks up a small marble of a pill from one of the countless jars on the counter, putting it in Yunho's mouth and closing it gently before adding, "As for his internal organs... I'm afraid I won't be able to return them to an original state."

"Is there really nothing you could do?" Hongjoong finally speaks up from behind Seonghwa's shoulder, feeling his panic in the air.

For a couple of excruciatingly long seconds, the silence falls in the room, with Baekhyun intently scrutinizing each of the men with his eyes before he sets his jaw, making his final decision.

"There is a tincture that one can drink in such cases," the herbalist shares cautiously. "In addition to accelerating the regenerating processes, it envelops the damaged organs and makes your body think that they are functioning properly: no pain or other symptoms. It won't cure you, though; you will have to drink it your whole life if you don't want the symptoms to return. And it's expensive. That's why I almost never propose it to my clients."

"Money. Is. Not. An. Issue," Seonghwa spits word by word through his teeth.

"I got you," Baekhyun chuckles shortly at the reaction. "You will have to give him a cup a day. If he skips even one day, his organs may fail, and he will die."

"I will order ten gallons of it immediately," Seonghwa takes up an offer in the blink of an eye.

"I... don't have that much in stock," the herbalist gets taken aback by such an enthusiastic client. "But I will start preparing it right now. Write me your address; I will have it delivered as soon as I'm finished."

Address... How should Seonghwa explain in the most nonchalant way that he doesn't actually have a home?

"We're here on business," Hongjoong responds in his stead. "Our home is far away. So we would be thankful if you could provide us with whatever you can and then send the rest with our courier."

Baekhyun nods, silently agreeing to the deal and not asking any further questions. He has long learned not to be too nosy when it comes to his clients and their requests. Instead, he rushes to pull out a flask from a faraway hidden corner of the shoppe and brings it to the unconscious man's lips while holding his head up for him not to choke on the liquid that's being forcefully poured down his throat.

A second.

Two seconds.

Three.

Just as the herbalist takes the flask away from his lips, Yunho finally opens his eyes wide with a gasp.

***

***

***

"... apart from that, no other news worthy of reporting, Sir."

A young man with sharp features folds his arms behind his back as he finishes his report, assuming the position he's most used to: legs shoulder-width apart, expression neutral, dark red eyes fixed somewhere on the floor under the Governor's feet. That's the posture of a soldier, even though he has never been one. He simply taught himself to be one. With this posture of reverence and respect, any bystander would've concluded that if Governor Kim ordered this man to jump off the roof, he would do that in a heartbeat.

"Ah," he suddenly remembers, adding, "There was some brief altercation at the event, which involved a new face."

The Governor leans forward on his throne, prompting him to continue.

"Heard that he was a baron of one of the islands in the Eastern sea," the man explains.

"And you don't know him?" Governor Kim wonders.

"Never seen him before. I heard his name was Kim Hongjoong. He wore... an eye patch—that's all that's peculiar about him." He sighs in regret, bowing slightly before he says, "Forgive me, Your Majesty. Even though I was blessed by your bite, my sense of smell never matched my peers to be able to be more of use to you."

The phrasing makes the Governor huff as he relaxes into his throne. This boy is truly impossible. He can't even get angry at him anymore because he already apologized even before Jaehwan could show his temper.

"Now, don't fret, Jongseong! You are more than enough, and your defects have never influenced your work, which you always do flawlessly," the Governor responds sharply to all of his doubts. "Keep an eye on the rumors from the Capital, though. Some baron from our lands gets invited to the King's function, and I don't get to be informed about it... That's some good food for thought."

Defects.

Jongseong flinches slightly at the peculiar wording but otherwise doesn't show any sign of discontent with the Governor's words.

"Yes, Sir," he only says to that.

"You may be excused," the Governor lets him.

Jongseong bows yet again before leaving the Hall. The door shuts, and he breathes out. In a scentless world, he has learned to differentiate the smell of danger with his skin, and today, for some reason, he felt the distant trace of it as clear as ever.