Chapter Text
Jongin was born fatherless.
He never knew who the man was. His mother worked as a maid in the nearest pub. Everyday she came home reeked of smoke and rum.
At the age of thirteen Jongin learned how to steal, apple was the first item he took. No one saw his deft yet careful hand putting the red fruit into his pocket since the market was too crowded. He ate the apple on the way home.
Few years passed and Jongin's skill improved, and so was the amount of items he had taken. Apple was no longer something he would steal. Gold and jewelry were his main priorities.
He no longer worked alone, instead he was in a gang, a medium sized one. There were twelve people and they often targeted fancy carriages in the woods, either belonged to some royalties or rich merchants. By the time Jongin reached eighteen, the leader retired - after all, a bad knee would disadvantage the heist. He then took over and led the group that kept increasing in size.
With high number of members the group gained popularity, and that caused them to become more visible. Police was more than eager to catch them. Jongin's face ended up being stapled on country's notice boards.
He was wanted, dead or alive.
(Perhaps stealing from an aristocrat and then having fun with his daughter wasn't such a good idea after all. On his defense, the fair lady was the one who insisted. Jongin was aware that he looked good, had he dressed decently he might rival the country's crown Prince).
Careful was his main rule, yet on a cloudy night he ignored the most important thing that had kept him alive. His second main rule was to never drink before the heist, which he ignored on that night too.
Sweet taste of red wine was still on his tongue when polices caught him. Hadn’t his mind been fogged by alcohol influence, he could’ve prevented it.
He was twenty one when the cold handcuff circled around his wrists for the first time.
During his prison time, his mother visited for a couple of times. She scolded him, even slapped him on her first visit. A mother is still a mother though, and she loved his son no matter what crimes he had done, so she kept on visiting Jongin almost every weekends.
It wasn't only food that she would always bring, but the bible too. It seemed his mother just recently joined a church. When he was still a kid, his mother wasn't religious at all. Things were different after he was imprisoned.
God helped her, his mother had said, and she wished God would help him too, would turn him into a decent man.
Jongin was skeptical, he had never cared about God or other magical beings. But when he turned his back on the black covered book with golden cross embroidered on it, opting to stare at the wall instead, he felt the book called him. He ended up reading the first page.
First page turned into second. Soon he finished the first chapter; Genesis, and read the next one, and the next one, and the next one. Reading the bible had become his everyday activity. It wasn’t exactly a hobby but in the prison there was not much he could do besides working out or doing hard labors each inmates was tasked to do.
Two days before he turned twenty five, a letter came instead of his mother.
He wanted to cry, he really did, but his tears failed to fall. He had lost the only person who loved him for who he was, loved him through grief and sorrow, unconditionally.
Her last message to him was to stay faithful to God and to follow His ways of life. Be a good man God wanted all of his children to be. And that was exactly what Jongin did once he got out of the prison.
He cut his hair, the dark brown locks fell on dirty floor, and shaved his mustache and short beard. The blade pressed too hard on his tanned skin, causing red liquid to ooze out. He cleaned it with cold, almost freezing water. It freshened his face and cleared his mind.
There was still some stubble left, but it was too short to be noticed from distance, so he let it be.
At the age of twenty six, Jongin walked out of the prison as a freeman. It wasn't pub or cabaret house that he went to, but instead a church.
He knelt and prayed, thankful for His mercy, thankful that he was still alive. Life in prison was akin to life in hell, even more horrible for some unfortunate souls. The men there were brutes and unforgiving. Had Jongin been shorter or smaller than he was, he probably would have ended as the prison's punching bag.
Yet God, according to his mother, had blessed him with long limbs and hard muscles. He used to be a small scrawny boy but now he was six feel tall, a grown man with strength and agility similar to a forest carnivore.
Jongin had wanted to argue that his body wasn't a blessing but something he had earned, since never in his life he lazed around and waited God to give him the built he was having. He stole so he could afford to nourish his body—and his mother too, and he sweated out gallons of perspiration, occasionally he would twist some muscles here and there in accident, to exercise and shape his body.
But he had kept his mouth shut, his mother never liked it when he acted like a smartass.
As he kneeled down in front of the altar, staring at the big cross, he thought that his mother was probably right, and he had to thank God for all of his blessing, just like a decent man he aimed to be.
On the next day, he joined the priesthood.
As he studied the art of becoming God's humble messenger, his heart felt lighter yet filled with hope, compassion, and gentleness he never knew he had. His growing faith to God brought those qualities out of him.
Sin was something he had promised to avoid, no matter how beautiful and tempting it had always been.
At the age of twenty seven he was sent to do a missionary work. He wasn't officially a priest yet, though he would be after he finished his journey.
He was bound to cross the sea to fulfill his mission. A small province in the north was the place he had to be in. The area had just been seized by his country and the royal family wanted its people to adopt the same religion, norms and values the country used.
Jongin believed this was a mission from God. He was needed there to open those people's eyes, to help them erase their sins, to guide them to the walk on the correct path. He forced himself to believe when a part of him questioning if God really wanted him to do this.
What if God just wanted humans to live happily in simplicity and harmony, without anyone preaching self-righteousness in His name? He shook his head, questioning things would just earn him doubts, it’d be better if he just did the job he was given. It was easier that way.
He made a sign of cross with his right hand; it touched his forehead first, middle of his chest, then his left shoulder and right one, before he stepped into the ship that would carry him.
‘Black Pearl’ was her name. She was big, strong, and elegant. Her captain and owner; Jongdae was more than proud of her. He was shorter than Jongin but the man knew not to underestimate someone who had lost his pinky finger and yet still joked about it as if it was nothing.
Jongin might not be a criminal anymore, but his experiences stayed deep inside him, had embodied through scar that cut his right brow and carved rough callous on his palms. If he was under the situation that required him to fight, he would still be able to move his body like before, albeit a bit rusty.
"Alright! Let's get this beauty meet her lover, the deep blue ocean she misses oh so dearly!" The cheesy line fell out Jongdae's mouth in a loud yell. His crews excitedly screamed, ready and eager to sail.
Besides Jongin, there were three men that also sent by the church. Father Jungwoo, an old man with grey hair and beard. He always carried a whisky flask under his thick robe. Father Yongmin, Jongin's mentor. The man was in his mid-forty, body tall and lanky. He had a kind smile but he was strict to his pupils. The last one was Chanyeol, similar to Jongin he was about to become a priest too. The church would give them the blessing at the same ceremony after the journey was over.
Chanyeol was the least of his favorite in the priesthood. The red hair was too loud and too brutish for his liking, he reminded him of the men from his past. There were times when he questioned the red hair's intention in joining the priesthood. He had seen him flirting with the sisters and sometimes widowers who visited every Sunday's morning. Women seemed to adore his outgoing charm.
Not that it wasn't the same for Jongin.
The vain side of him acknowledged the stares women occasionally gave him, the blush on their cheeks and the fidgety of their fingers told him how they felt towards him. But Jongin had promised to stay virtue and to serve only God and the church.
Fornicating brought pleasure to his body, something he had often experienced when he was younger, when he was strayed away from God. He no longer submitted himself to any of his carnal desires. The church forbade it and Jongin abode.
It was hard at first, especially for someone who was in the middle his prime age, but Jongin managed. It took weeks for him to lead a clean and pure life. A year or so had passed and Jongin was certain he had forgotten how it felt for his flesh to be pleasured. But he believed it was a good thing as pleasure only led to nothing but damnation.
"Do you want some?" Chanyeol offered the cigarette pack he was holding. He had one stick already lit up, perched between his chapped lips. It was a usual thing to see the red hair smoked like a chimney.
Closing his journal, Jongin shook his head, a silent rejection. Chanyeol shrugged with an exaggerated frown on his face before his gaze diverted to the book Jongin was holding.
"You write?" He asked, but it was obvious from his voice he wasn't really interested. Jongin knew the other was just trying to make a small talk. Father Jungwoo was a grumpy companion and even more when he had his whisky flask out whilst Father Yongmin was nowhere to be found on the main deck. Perhaps he was in their shared cabin, reciting novena prayer.
"Yeah, a journal."
"That's... Neat." The compliment was insincere but Jongin had never expected more from the man he rarely talked to.
"How long the journey will take?" Chanyeol inquired, his front facing the blue sea. The weather was bright, no cloud hiding the sun and the wind was gentler than a mother’s kiss. The dock where they had left from was still visible even as a small dot, which meant they weren't that far yet.
"A month or so, the captain said so earlier."
Chanyeol sighed, slouching down. For the first time, Jongin felt like he could relate to the other man.
In the third week of their journey the weather changed drastically. Rain kept on pouring and wind no longer gave a gentle caress on their skin. The waves were bigger and angrier, forcing Jongin and the rest of priesthood members to stay indoor.
Father Jungwoo drank more and his expression was grimmer, obviously disliking to be confined in a cramped room that was filled with three grown men. He was used to luxury in the rectory due to his status as a senior priest. Father Yongmin on the other hand calmly reread the Bible, body lied down on his bed and eyes closed. Chanyeol stared judgingly as to why the younger priest could read in a moving ship without feeling nauseous. Father Jungwoo looked like he was ready to throw up his dinner.
"Do you think we'll get there safely?" Chanyeol asked for the nth time since the heavy rain began. He looked paranoid and Jongin found the older man's face to be comical.
"Of course. God will protect us." Jongin answered immediately, tired of the other’s paranoia. Chanyeol made a face.
"You know... I get it that we're in the priesthood and we will become legit priests after we finish this work, but aren't you too confident with this whole God thing?" It was Jongin's turn to make a face.
"Are you doubting God's power?"
"That's not exactly what I meant." Chanyeol sighed. He knew it wouldn't be good to argue with his church brother. They still had a long week to go through together before they arrived at their destination. Argument would make the air around them become more tense and awkward. They weren’t exactly best friends after all. Plus, now he felt bad for questioning God. He might play around a little too much for someone who would become a priest soon but that doesn't mean he was a non-believer.
"What if God wants us to die?" He lamented, his will to live was still strong and he hoped God wouldn't send him to afterlife yet.
"Then we will. God wants the best for all of his children. If we die now then it means our life has no purpose anymore here." Jongin explained, feeling bad for making Chanyeol's face turned pale, so he added; "Don't worry, Chanyeol. We'll survive. It's just a heavy rain. It'll be over soon."
It was not just a heavy rain and it certainly wouldn't be over soon.
The heavy rain turned into heavier storm. The ship crews’ yells could be heard from inside their cabin. Few ticking seconds later, one of them burst into their room, looking exasperated. "We need your help!" The greasy man yelled and they immediately left the room to follow his footsteps.
Jongin did what the crews told him, he pulled the rope and tied it to where it should be tied. He knew nothing about ship, land had always been his expertise, not the ocean. Even in heavy storm he could hear Father Jungwoo cursing at everything, at everyone and their mothers. His words were definitely not appropriate to be said by a priest.
The old man cursed louder when his flask landed on the wooden floor and then rolled into the sea due to the sudden tilt of the ship caused by the strong waves.
A laugh escaped Jongin’s mouth, a sign of disrespect. His mentor, Father Yongmin, had always told him to it was very important to respect the elders no matter how silly they might be, if not karma was bound to befall him. It was God's way to punish everyone to behave decently.
Jongin realized that maybe he should've held in his laugh as he lost his balance and fell into the ocean. The salty, cold and angered water swallowed his body immediately. He tried to swim up, but the stream was too harsh and too mighty for him to handle.
To his damned luck, his rosary—a Christmas gift from his mother—was stuck on the huge branch of wood that fell before he did. The strong wind had broken the main mast of the ship. He tried to wriggle around, to escape the choke of his charcoal stone rosary, yet his body was getting weaker as more bubbles of air left his mouth.
Before his consciousness left his body, he saw something—someone—approaching him. In his deliriousness, he took a glimpse of a beauty with doe eyes that shone brightly in the deep sea. Pale hands cupped his face and when he could no longer hold his eyes to stay open. He then felt soft lips pressed against his.
He smiled.
Maybe, this was the angel that would bring him to heaven.
Jongin blinked his bleary eyes, and then a grunt escaped his throat. His body ached whist his head pounded. Rock and sand greeted him when his sight no longer fogged by the after taste of brief comatose. He finally realized he was lying sideway on the hard ground covered in white sand, facing his left.
As he sat up, he noticed the night was still befallen as light didn't surround him like it would on daylight. The sky was no longer dark and covered in black clouds that pouring out rain, instead full moon shone brightly illuminating his surroundings. Stone-made walls that were carved by nature told him he wasn't in an open area, but a cave. He could see the opening of it, leading to what he assumed the vast ocean he had fallen into.
When he turned to his right, a gasp escaped his mouth whilst his eyes widened. A boy, a naked boy, was sitting not far away from him. His legs folded to his chest. The boy had flinched a little when the gasp left his mouth.
"W-who are you?" The question came louder than he intended to be, making the boy curled his body even more, eyes widened in panic.
The boy tried opened his mouth as if he was ready to speak, but he closed it again, lips then gnawed in frustration. For a second Jongin was entranced by the sight of pearly teeth sinking into plush, cherry flesh.
It was such a pretty sight.
Snap out of it, he chided himself for ever letting his brain to form such thought.
To his surprise, the boy started to crawl toward him. His face reddened when he realized the boy was fully naked. He had never had his body reacted in such way before; cheeks flushed, heart pounded slightly in faster pace and throat dried. Males’ naked body had never caused such effect on him, yet the boy before him was different from all the males he had encountered.
Under the moonlight, his skin was milky, while his frame was small, with narrow shoulders that shouldn't have looked enticing to Jongin. His face was beautiful, with round twinkling eyes, cute button nose and soft looking plush lips. His hair was in midnight color, the front still looked a bit damp against his forehead.
Beautiful.
Jongin wanted to move back, wanted to get away from the boy who was getting nearer, crawling toward him like Jongin was his prey. Yet his body couldn't move. It was as if those dark orbs enchanted him and forced his body to stay still.
I'm Kyungsoo, the boy wrote when their distance was closed. His writing was neat even if it was just mere scribbles against the white sand.
"Kyung...soo?" Jongin read out loud the word that was written by a stubby finger. Kyungsoo's nails were very short and round shaped, different from his that were longer and slightly oval and one ruined - broken due to childhood mischief. Kyungsoo nodded eagerly, a pretty smile bloomed on his face.
"Why are you naked? Where are your clothes?" He blurted out the most important questions.
Kyungsoo looked surprised for a bit before he pointed at himself then the water.
"Your clothes are in the water?" Kyungsoo shook his head. He then did the same gesture as the previous one. "You came from the water?" He nodded eagerly.
Jongin felt dizzy. Perhaps he was still floating in the water and this was just a dream. He slapped his cheeks harshly with both of his palms. It stung but he was hoping it could wake him up from this weird dream.
It didn't.
"You can't possibly come from the water! Humans cannot live in the water, we don't have gills." Jongin sighed as he combed his still wet hair to the back. His rosary was still hanging around his neck. "Look, kid. I'm 27, don't try to fool me."
Kyungsoo frowned at that and immediately stood up, shocking Jongin. He wobbled as he walked towards the water and Jongin tried so hard not to focus his gaze on Kyungsoo's supple rump. It jiggled when he walked and made him focusing on Kyungsoo’s curve instead. His hips were wide for a male and his thighs were full. Jongin felt even dizzier.
He then disappeared into the water and Jongin panicked, since his possible savior was leaving him.
"Hey hey, kid!" Jongin stood up and followed Kyungsoo, getting inside the water as well to look for him. When he was waist deep, Kyungsoo suddenly surfaced which caused him to almost yelp. "Don't pull a prank on—“ Jongin's word stuck in his throat when a fish tail was visible next to Kyungsoo's pale body. The scales were blue colored, sparkling beautifully under the silver light moon bestowed upon them.
Before Jongin could utter any word, his foot was pulled and his entire body got dragged into the water once again.
It was dark in the water, but oddly Kyungsoo entire body was gleaming, similar to the moonlight above them. His brown eyes were even brighter under the water.
"I'm older than you, you know. So stop calling me a kid." Kyungsoo said and Jongin almost choked on water. He just talked under the water!
As if hearing his thought, Kyungsoo spoke again. "I can't speak on the land," he said with a regretful face. It didn't suit him, he looked better when he smiled. "Under the water, though, I can." He grinned, eyes turned into half-moon shapes. Pretty, Jongin thought and then berated himself for doing so. "Sirens are supposed to be able to speak and sing on both land and water. But for some unknown reasons, I can't." He said in doleful tone, though his smile was still there his eyes looked sad. It was as if tears were ready to fall out from them, but they were in the water so not a drop of tears was visible.
Wait, sirens? Jongin's brain caught up few seconds after he took notes of Kyungsoo's expression.
Sirens. He had heard of them few years ago from one of the inmates in prison. The man had been sentenced to jail for pirating and later on he was known as the story teller in the prison wing Jongin was placed.
Jongin had never believed his incoherent mumbles; it had felt like he was listening to a drunk person.
But perhaps the man was never sober to begin with. It seemed whatever it was that had attacked him and ship mates (which caused them to be caught on the following days) traumatized him. His grin would turn wide and sinister whenever the word ‘sirens’ fell out from his mouth.
The man had repeatedly said how sweet their voices were, lulling their preys to come to them, to fall deep into the ocean so they could kill and ravish the body and soul of their preys.
Once a siren trapped you, your soul wouldn't be able to go to neither heaven nor hell, forever would be theirs. Whilst your body, they would thoroughly ravish it, until nothing was left.
In sudden fear and realization, Jongin chocked on water, the saltiness burned his lungs and throat. Frantically, he flapped his arms and kicked his legs around, trying to swim to the surface. Kyungsoo seemed to have dragged him to the deepest area, his feet no longer touching the ground.
His movement got halted because his lungs forcing him to cough to let out the remained salt water. Since he was still under the water, it made him inhale and swallow more of the ocean. He felt he was going to faint soon due to panic and the lack of oxygen his body suffered, but before his consciousness managed to slip out of his body again, Kyungsoo cupped his face and leaned forward. Their lips pressed together.
Magically, his body felt relaxed. His lungs no longer burned, as if oxygen was filling them in steady rhythm, making him able to breathe again.
Something then clicked in his brain. Kyungsoo was giving him oxygen through the kiss, and like a suffocated man he was, Jongin kissed harder.
The siren gasped at the sudden grip on each side of his face. Jongin took it as an invitation to insert his tongue, stealing the siren's breath away, literally.
He kissed the siren harder, rougher, lips pressing desperately onto the plusher ones, teeth gnawing whilst tongue roaming and tasting warm cavern. Bubbles of air came out from their mouth. Jongin felt he was breathing in fresh air of the ocean.
Kyungsoo's palms slid down, no longer cupping Jongin's face but instead he was gripping tightly on the front area of the man's shirt. One of his palms accidentally gripped on the rosary, the stones and chains dug into his palms. His eyes fluttered shut, the kiss was something he had never experienced. His previous—and also first—kiss had been chaste and it was meant to save Jongin's life.
I can't breathe, I need more, I can’t breathe, Jongin kept chanting lies inside his head. He had more than enough of oxygen already, yet he lied to himself—to God as well, that he couldn't breathe, that he still needed more to fill his lungs.
It was as if the chains that kept his Pandora box locked—the box where he had stored his earthly desires into—had broken, shattered into pieces. He hadn't been involved in any type of physical intimacy since he was imprisoned, and he hadn't succumbed to his carnal needs for a year or so, after he joined the priesthood. For him to suddenly touch, taste and feel such sweetness that was offered to him, freely, made him lose control.
Too busy devouring the siren's mouth, Jongin didn't notice the movement of Kyungsoo's fin, flapping against the water, pushing them up to the surface.
They emerged out of the water with a loud gasp. Jongin then snapped out of his trance. Inhaling normal air brought him to his sense.
"I-I'm sorry. You took too much air from me, if we kept doing that then both of us will drown, so I had to pull us up." Kyungsoo explained with scarlet cheeks, his hands still gripped on Jongin’s shirt tightly. The owner still looked dazed and shocked.
It then dawned on the both of them.
"I can… talk."
"You… talk."