Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“What are you guys doing?” Hongjoong asks when he walks into the kitchen first thing in the morning.

It’s been a couple of days since collecting San, the alluring siren, and yet again the ATEEZ crew find themselves lapsing into a sort of content tedium. Shortly after leaving Obureru’s atmosphere, the Compass stirred again. It flickered back to life, spitting out coordinates a few sectors away. Though the numbers scramble perpetually, whatever it spits out remains in the same general area. That means they’re at least headed in the right direction. Hongjoong figures they’ve got a day and maybe a half before they get close enough to care about the little details.

After about a day of shy hesitance, San swiftly integrated with the crew like he’d been around since day one. He sticks by Wooyoung’s side a lot which isn’t surprising. The siren also has a fascination with Yunho’s tail - that’s par for the course, though. Honestly, who doesn’t? Hongjoong would never dare say it, but even he sometimes fantasizes about touching it. Jongho and San roughhouse with one another and talk music, and the captain himself likes telling San his theories about the Compass. It’s nothing profound - the friendship they’ve all fostered - but it’s growing into something Joong thinks may be lifelong. Little by little, they nurture their allegiance - sometimes with conversations both light and deep. Sometimes with… Whatever everyone is doing crowded around San at the kitchen table.

“We’re feeding San stuff to see what he can eat,” Yunho says like it’s the most perfectly normal thing in the world to do. Hongjoong frowns at the buffet of pre-portioned Coalition meals (that they’re supposed to be rationing ) scattered around.

“I trust that I can at least salvage some of this for breakfast?” The captain wonders, taking a seat next to his pilot and closest confidant.

Yunho nods enthusiastically, scooting a barely touched bowl of soup toward him, “So far, we’ve learned that dairy is not his friend.”

“But I love it!” San whines, pouting from his spot across the table.

“You barely made it to the sink,” Jongho chides the siren as if he’s the baby of the group and not himself.

“But ice cream is so good,” San crosses his arms in a huff.

“No throwing up on my ship- that’s a rule starting now,” Hongjoong barks, spooning the mysterious soup in his mouth. It turns out to be a creamy tomato soup which explains why the siren’s not touching it. He is, apparently, dairy-intolerant. Joong figures it’s logical he wouldn’t tolerate it well. How much dairy do they have underwater? The mental image of a person trying to milk a manatee briefly crosses his head, and he has to physically brace himself to stop from laughing out loud (and getting soup everywhere).

Jongho jokes, “Like- No throwing up at all , or-“

“What do you think?” Wooyoung (who, of course, is perched next to the siren) says.

“Keep it to the commode,” Joong clarifies to sate Jongho’s pedantic snark. “Any less depressing findings on the food front?” He asks San.

“Um, eggs- well poultry eggs are good,” San nods chipperly. “Poultry in general is okay. Tofu is, too. I haven’t had any veggies I can’t have either, though I can’t say I really like them.”

“We scoured the GC stores for genuinely hot peppers,” Wooyoung sighs sadly, “But there’s nothing. I wanted to try spice on him.”

“He says it’s like tasting pain!” San adds.

Hongjoong chuckles,“As much as I respect the scientific process, can we please clear this table and actually eat breakfast? Or, well, pick something from all the shit you’ve already opened?”

“Yes, sir.” “Fine.” “Okay!” The others answer in a chorus of (slightly dejected) acceptance.

Food is cleared off, portioned out, and put on bowls for consumption. Idle chit-chat bounces across the table, topics ranging from siren nighttime stories to wacky jobs the captain had taken with the pilot. Even though the breakfast spread is eclectic at best, it still gradually disappears all the same. When the amount of food dwindles dangerously, Yunho takes the bullet and makes their prisoner his tray. Jongho pesters San to teach him more about signing, and Wooyoung makes a move to follow the two.

“Wooyoung, with me,” Hongjoong commands.

Wooyoung raises his eyebrows curiously. Joong can see the slight pout in the other’s lips, but he doesn’t really care. Wooyoung’ll get over it.

“Okay,” Wooyoung answers. He joins Hongjoong’s side, and the captain starts leading them toward the stairs. “What is it, captain?”

“I wanna check on the Compass and make sure we’re still headed on the right trajectory.”

“Right,” The other responds. Joong can tell Wooyoung wants to say “why do you need me for that?”.

“And also,” Hongjoong lowers his voice, glancing over his shoulder. The coast is clear - Yunho’s heading toward the bottom level, and the other two are already gone. “I wanted to ask you about San?”

That piques Wooyoung’s interest, “Um, what about him?”

The pair step into the bridge, and Hongjoong heads straight to the navigation console. Pretty as ever, the Compass sits poised on top of the console, it’s projection mapping out the stars beyond. A single beacon blinks in and out of visibility, its coordinates constantly shifting and shuffling.

Hongjoong sighs in relief when he sees that they are, in fact, still going the right way. Though they don’t know their destination yet, he has faith that they will when the time is right. Wherever they end up, it can’t be worse than Ubureru, he thinks. He prays that they succeed in having at least that much luck. The bar is low, but it’s there.

“How is San doing?” Hongjoong asks as he taps the Compass’s glass dome cautiously.

“Huh?” Wooyoung sounds confused, “What am I, his keeper?”

That answer takes Hongjoong by surprise. He turns his attention away from his precious Compass to look Wooyoung up and down. Of all things he looks defensive . The younger one is sort of tense, shoulders hiked up and arms crossed in front of his body. His brow is furrowed and, yeah, he looks a bit annoyed - but that’s not exactly it. Not all of it, anyways. As fun as Hongjoong finds dissecting the other’s body language, he prefers to be more direct.

“No. You just seem, uh- close. Why do you look offended?” The captain asks.

“Oh- I- I’m not,” Wooyoung relaxes a little - just a little. “I just think it’s weird you’d ask me and not him.”

“You two seem close,” Joong shrugs. “And anyways he doesn’t seem like the type to let on if he’s not feeling well.”

“He’s not,” Wooyoung says. Hongjoong raises his eyebrows at the other’s change of tune, but he doesn’t say anything. “I- I mean that’s the impression I get, anyways,” The younger of the two clarifies.

“Right. I just- I thought if I got you away from him, you’d be a little more honest.”

“About what?”

The captain narrows his eyes suspiciously, “About how you think he’s doing. What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing,” Wooyoung shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Hongjoong sighs, “Geez. I’m sorry I asked.” He starts fiddling with the Compass again, willing it to give him steady coordinates.

“No, no, it’s fine you’re concerned, I just- I’m really not actually that good with people,” Wooyoung admits. He sounds pained in doing so. “I understand my undeniable sex appeal and captivating charms might make you think otherwise, but… People aren’t actually my forte.”

“You said you used to bartend- and sell information. How did you do that if you’re bad at people?”

“Customer service is different, okay. That stuff is all fake. You just gotta know what people want. It can be pretty compliments, a good tip or a strong drink. It’s different when people are just trying to buy or sell.”

“Buy or sell what?” The captain quips.

“Ha ha . I could never do that line of work. I’m not friendly enough- of course, it’s not for lack of people trying .”

Hongjoong laughs at that, “Well, we learn something new every day, don’t we?” He squints at all the little bits and bobs missing from his Compass. “So, what, Choi San is a bit harder for you to figure out than most? You seemed pretty fine with us.”

“Our circumstances of meeting were different.”

“Fair,” The captain concedes. “I probably shouldn’t ask you to keep an eye out for him, but-“

“Keep an eye out for him,” Wooyoung completes the sentence. “I got it.”

Hongjoong tears his eyes off of the Compass to look Wooyoung earnestly in the eye, “Look, I get that it can be a lot of pressure for someone to rely on you, but- like- San feels comfortable with you. I just- I want his transition to be easy as possible.”

“Aw, look at you, all soft and stuff,” The younger jokes.

“Shut up,” Hongjoong scrunches his nose. He neglects to comment on the fact that Wooyoung very readily shifted the focus away from himself. He opts not to push the issue. For now. If he’s gonna have to watch the other basically swoon for the foreseeable future, he might have to reconsider, though. He returns his attention to the Compass again. “What do you think the chances are we can stabilize this before we enter the next sector?”

Wooyoung shrugs, “You try turning it on and off again?”

“Hm. You’re hilarious ,” Joong rolls his eyes. “But seriously, I was hoping it would stabilize by now…”

The other taps it experimentally, his nail clinking against the glass softly, “It probably needs some of these wacky parts it’s missing to regain full functionality.”

Hongjoong pouts his lips, “I hate that you’re probably right.”

“Almost definitely right,” Wooyoung corrects him.

“Well, maybe we can land in a sector with civilization and find… Something.”

“Oh, god- that’d be amazing,” The younger sighs, “Civilization. Somewhere with shops. And clothes.”

“What? You don’t enjoy our communal nudity days while we wait for our clothes to wash?”

“No, no. I loved walking into the living room and getting a front row seat to the Yunho show.”

“Mm. That tail is cute, though, isn’t it?”

“ God I want to touch it.”

“Weirdo,” Joong laughs.

“Click-clack- beep-chirrup!” Suddenly, the Compass comes to life. It’s map display blinks rapidly, the brightness teeter tottering between barely there and almost blinding. The pair cower away from the strange device, watching in awe as it seems to be doing. Well, something. They don’t know what. Map lines mix, meld, tangle and overlap, and the blinking beacon dances around the display, flitting around like a gnat.

“Wh- What did you do?” Wooyoung asks, mildly terrified.

“What did I do?! What did you do?” Hongjoong fires back. Soft whistling sounds out from the thing as it draws nonsensical lines across the projected starscape.

“W-well do something!”

“Like what?”

“I dunno! It’s your Compass.”

“Hey, we’re all on this ship together,” Hongjoong eyes the thing wearily. Lights flash, and more little sounds trickle out from the antique brass of the base. He tries to follow the beacon - the one they’re supposed to be heading toward - but the tiny point of light dances nonsensically. It’s like trying to watch a bug zip around.

“Captain I’m scared,” Wooyoung whimpers.

“Wh- It’s not gonna explode!” Hongjoong says. “Probably.”

“Probably? This thing is ancient. Who knows what kind of faulty wiring there could be in there.”

“Whirr… Whirr…”

“Who knows if there’s even any wiring at all…” Hongjoong mutters. In all honesty, he has no idea what the inner workings of the Compass are. There are pieces missing, yes, but what they link into he doesn’t know. Nothing sticks out, and even through the myriad little holes and boo-boos in the thing, he can’t make out anything discernible as a wire. Before he can inspect any closer, the soft glow of the projection swells into something almost blinding.

“Zzz-zzt- snap!!”

The loud, staticy snap prompts both Wooyoung and Hongjoong to duck. It sounds like a stray bolt of electricity discharging, and neither wants to be in the way of that. However, following the flash of light and the threatening sound there is… Nothing.

Hongjoong’s eyes hesitantly flutter open, and he rises from his recoiled, cowering position against the floor of the bridge. He cautiously approaches the nav console and inspects the Compass’s new projection.

For the first time in days, the Compass has stabilized.

“Shitting christ,” Wooyoung hisses as he hoists himself onto his feet. “What happened?”

“I dunno, but… It looks like we’ve got a stable image,” The captain says. “Quick- quick- get these coordinates in-” He waves at the other frantically, “-before this gets lost.”

“Y-yes, sir,” Wooyoung does as he’s told, hopping into one of the pilot’s seats to punch in the coordinates. Hongjoong stares at the projection all the while, as if it’ll disappear the second he blinks. “Got it, sir.” The younger says.

“Cool,” Joong replies. “Is it in the same sector that we’ve been heading toward?”

“Yup! Dead center actually. Lemme put the coords into the database search. Maybe this time something useful will come up…” Wooyoung trails off, his voice giving way to the telltale clacking of fingers against a keyboard.

ATEEZ’s robotic voice rings out from the console, “Course set to: Venus. Approximate distance: fifteen-thousand clicks. At current velocity, arrival will be in approximately sixteen hours.”

“Venus?” Hongjoong disbelieves what he’s just heard.

“Venus,” Wooyoung repeats flatly.

“Just… Just Venus?”

“Yes, just Venus.”

“Like- No- no alphanumeric ID? No weird caveats or-” The captian shakes his head, bewildered. “-just Venus?”

“I don’t think our ship is lying,” Wooyoung swivels his chair so he can face Hongjoong and shrugs. “You ever heard of it? Venus, I mean.”

“W-well, I mean, yeah. I know the name from ancient times, but after the interstellar expansion, well- it’s inhospitable. Probably turned to dust in the old solar system by now- don’t you think?”

“I bet whoever settled there just decided to call it Venus. For some fucking reason- probably a stupid one at that. It’s definitely a place.”

“Like- I’d heard about there being other Venuses, but I just assumed- I dunno- I guess it’s weird to just see a planet with a singular name,” Joong shrugs sheepishly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Even though he doesn’t feel judgment from Wooyoung per se, he can’t help feeling a little ignorant not realizing it.

As if sensing his shame, Wooyoung tries to smooth his captain’s mood a bit, “Venus isn’t exactly a major hotspot. It’s probably not on a lot of people’s radars.”

Joong groans, “Don’t tell me it’s uninhabited.”

“Well, the good news is, it isn’t!” Wooyoung points to the projected database entry above the pilot’s console. “It looks like there’s-” He pauses to scan the text, “-about seven-hundred million people on the planet.”

“Seven-hundred million? That’s not a lot.”

“No, it isn’t, but they do it on purpose. Um- Lemme read here-” Wooyoung clears his throat dramatically, “-Venus is a cooperative independent planet orbited by two moons and sustained by a single sun. Population is approximately seven-hundred million - as of the 3910 voluntary census submission. Terrain - varies, dominated by temperate climates with a variety of greenery, two arctic poles, and a wide tropical division band.”

“Voluntary census?” Hongjoong asks, transparently baffled.

“Uh- Basically, the ‘cooperative’ bit? That’s code for they make nice with the Coalition.”

“But they’re still independent?”

“Guess they came to some type of terms,” The younger gives the captain another shrug. “Like hell if I know. Like I said they are… Ah, here we go-” He glances at the text again. “-An isolationist state with stringent regulations regarding who is allowed visitation. Most recent information from- from 3910 - god that’s, like, forever ago - they are not accepting applications for citizenship. Special visas are available through Coalition blah, blah, blah…”

“So, what I’m getting is they don’t like visitors,” Hongjoong frowns.

“Right,” The other nods. “That’s consistent with what I’ve heard on the job, but…” He trails off as he reads more of the GC’s database entry. “Yeah, that’s about right,” He mutters.

“What is? Are they hostile?” The captain inquires worriedly.

“Okay, I’m just gonna give you the Wooyoung version of this,” He clasps his hands in his lap loosely and leans forward. “Venus is a planet of snobs. My guess is that whenever the hell it got colonized, somehow, some way, they managed to keep it exclusive. Like- like think of it as an all inclusive resort for the richest of the rich.”

“Wait- really?” Hongjoong cringes just imagining it. “How the hell do they support their supposed elite without a working class?”

“They give out work visas to people who can get them. Usually short-term contracts- anywhere from six months to a decade. Only hire hot people, too, from what I’ve heard,” Wooyoung scoffs.
“Y’know, because why make their cream of the crop natives do work, right? It’s actually a pretty popular spot to try and get work. The planet’s nice- like, nice nice. They’ve got all kind of restrictions to keep the environment super healthy, and I hear that everything is squeaky clean. Of course, not a lot of people get in. I used to know a guy who- who helped people… Arrange papers to get onto Venus for work.”

“Why did you pause before saying arrange?” The captain quirks an eyebrow.

“I- No reason-”

“Your guy did it illegally, didn’t he?”

Wooyoung throws his hands up, and his eyes flit away from the other’s, “I mean, I said I knew the guy. Not that I knew him well-”

“Okay, that’s- that’s not even relevant, forget I said anything.”

“No, you forget I said anything.”

“It’s already forgotten,” Joong assures him.

Wooyoung grins,“Good.”

“Good,” The captain repeats.

“Great.”

“Spectacular.”

“Splendiforous.”

Hongjoong purses his lips, “I- I don’t think that’s a real word, but admittedly my vocabulary isn’t the best, so… You win this one.”

Wooyoung smirks, satisfied, and continues his spiel, “Maybe we can get you a word of the day calendar while we’re down there. Except, we’d need papers…” His brows knit together. “Shit.”

“Okay,” Hongjoong leans back against the nearest wall and strokes his chin in thought, “Let’s- let’s take that element out of the equation. Pretend we get in, no questions asked-”

“That’s not likely.”

“-anways. We get down there. What do you think… What do you think we look for? Like- what is this-” Joong nods to the Compass, “-trying to take us to?”

Wooyoung presses his lips together. Momentarily, a glint of skepticism crosses his eyes. However, whether out of courtesy, faith, or a disinclination from pissing of the captain, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he furrows his brows together and gives the thing a good, hard look - like it’ll tell him all the answers if he asks nice enough. He studies the peculiar device for some time, and the only sound echoing through the bridge is the gentle hum of the engine.

“This is… An old piece of tech, but it’s still technology, right?” He puts out the rhetorical to break the silence.

“Right. Uh- of course.”

“Like- it’s archaic - maybe even arcane, but it still has to work, right? It needs the proper… Pieces, the proper software and hardware- it’s all gotta work together,” Wooyoung brings his hands in front of himself and makes a gesture as if he’s piecing together two halves.

“Uh-huh.”

“When- when a machine or, really, anything can’t work, what does it do?”

“Isn’t it considered broken at that point?” The captain posits more out of courtesy than insistent belief. He’s curious what the other’s getting at, and he knows as well as anyone else that sometimes just having someone encourage your rambling helps immensely.

“Well- Yes- maybe, but!” Wooyoung holds a finger up as if he’s about to announce some revelation, “Any piece of technology made even- even before the stellar migration is programmed to update itself. It’ll tell you intuitively when it doesn’t have all the right pieces and parts- like- it’ll say it’s not compatible, needs new drivers.”

“Right.”

“So- So what if the Compass is- it’s unstable, but it’s trying to- to update itself? Usually machines and stuff- they’ll direct you to where you need to go to get what you need. I mean- mind you, it’s usually, like, a server, but-” The younger of them stands up and walks over to the nav console again, walking around the Compass. “What if the Compass - it’s a map after all - is trying to update itself - to get all the necessary parts to work - by leading us there?”

There it is. That spark of understanding, the light turning on. Hongjoong’s face dawns with realization, and he joins Wooyoung’s side at the console, gasping in awe at the strange mechanism before them.

“It’s leading us to what it needs,” Hongjoong’s lips fall open in amazement.

“At least, it’s trying to,” Wooyoung corrects. “Not sure we needed to get almost killed by crazy siren people.”

“Yeah, but-” The captain’s lips crack into a smile, “-we met San.”

“Okay- Well, that’s- that’s got nothing to do with this,” Wooyoung sputters, his ears tinting scarlet again. He quickly tries to recover, ”This is leading us to Venus - pretty damn convincingly, too. And- and Venus is not like Ubureru. I know I described it as a resort, but it’s more than that. From what I’ve heard, the technology there is insane. Like- mind-blowing stuff in every sector. People living to well over a hundred because of their medicine, androids that you’d mistake for human - that kind of thing. I mean, it’s all hearsay, but I feel like…” His eyes drift to the projected display again. “If there’s something we need for the Compass - even if it’s old tech - Venus is definitely the place to look.”

“So then we just have to worry about getting in,” Hongjoong’s lips pout unconsciously as he thinks.

“Well,” Wooyoung’s tone escalates to almost a squeak, and when the captain looks at him, he sees sheepishness all over his face.

“What? Don’t tell me you can get in contact with your guy from out here,” Hongjoong jokes.

“ Well. ”

Joong’s smirk crumbles away, “You- you’re the ‘guy’ aren’t you?”

“I- I might’ve picked up a few tricks from him throughout the duration of our relationship. Our- uh- working relationship.”

“I- uh-” Hongjoong raises a finger, not sure if he wants to chastise the other or make fun of him. “I’m- you know what, I’m not gonna touch that. I am not gonna touch that.”

“Good call. Thank you- that’s a- it’s a good call-”

“Yeah, just, um-”

“Do you want the papers or not?”

“Depends, are we gonna get killed if they figure out they’re phony?”

“No, actually!” A giddy smile blossom’s on the other’s face - like not getting killed on sight is some fantastic blessing. “We’ll get turned away. If we try to re-enter after getting turned away, then we get killed.”

Hongjoong shrugs and nods, “I can deal with that. So what do you need?”

“Well, paper, um-” Wooyoung starts rambling, looking down in thought, “A printer- I think the desks in the bedroom are equipped- oh, and, um… Luzidium- just a bit, watered down. The official Venusian seal has to be stamped with luzidium because they’re bougie fucks. I could probably drain a battery…”

“Why don’t you get on it,” Hongjoong decides he doesn’t need to hear the other babbling about draining batteries and ‘bougie fucks’. “I’ll let the crew know where we’re headed and when. Make sure everyone knows to be clothed.”

“Yeah they’re sticklers for clothes. Clothes, manners, decency...”

“Well, we all have at least one of those things.”

“Right,” For a quick second, immense concern crosses Wooyoung’s face, but he shakes it away. “Right- Well, I’m gonna get started.”

“Okay. Sixteen hours!” Hongjoong calls after the other to remind him as he bounds off.

When Wooyoung’s gone, he crosses over to the pilot’s console and turns on the intercom. Yunho’s the one who’s gotten to use it the most, and Hongjoong feels like that’s hardly fair! He’s the captain after all. A shameless grin on his face, Hongjoong addresses his crew:

“Hey everyone. This is your captain speaking-” For some reason, saying that makes him way too giddy. “-we’ve set course for Venus and we’ll be in the vicinity in… Oh, approximately sixteen hours according to the nav. Make sure you’re decent, they’ve got atmospheric patrol. I know sixteen hours from now is pretty early for our clocks, but try to be up and ready before we hit the border. I’d recommend washing your clothes if you haven’t already and, please for the love of god, do not go into any common areas naked.”

“Click.”

The captain grins to himself, entirely too appeased with how official he’d just sounded (save for the mention of nudity). Satisfied, the captain leaves the bridge and heads toward the cargo bay. They don’t have much in terms of money (that is to say, they have none at all), but he’s sure there’s something tucked away in the ship that they can trade for parts or money.

If he said he wasn’t nervous, he’d be lying. Few things make Hongjoong more anxious than the thought of rubbing elbows with the “upper-class”. He himself had never really identified with, well, any sort of class at all. Not the upper, middle, lower-middle, or even what many considered the lower class. His home planet was populated almost exclusively by what one might describe as the “barely-getting-by, starving class”. The “trying their damndest” class. Or, in his own private, romantic mind: the dreaming class.

He’s not sure he’ll know how to act around people who, apparently, are so damn rich and exclusive that they holed up on their own planet. God knows what kind of strange manners and decorum the weirdos on Venus abide by. Joong just prays that he can keep the crew enough in line that they don’t royally piss someone off and get challenged to a duel or something. (That sounds like a rich people thing - duels.)

Hongjoong snickers. He can’t believe the thought just crossed his mind, but it did. He almost despises that it did, but it’s kind of hilarious. His treacherous brain dared to ask the rhetorical question:

You know who’d love a place like Venus?

He smiles to himself, knowing damn well who would.

“Wh- We’re going to Venus?!” Officer Park gapes in disbelief when the announcement finishes.

Yunho chuckles and shrugs, “I guess. Well, technically we are going to Venus. You’re staying on the ship.”

“Wh- No. No, no you can’t- I mean you can’t-” He shakes his head insistently, ignoring the half-eaten bowl of rice and eel on his tray. “You don’t just ride up to Venus and land. It- it doesn’t work that way.”

Yunho shrugs again. It’s kind of funny, seeing the PO unwound by the mention of the planet Venus. Yunho had never heard of it. He swears he remembers the name, but that’s about it. In all honesty, he doesn’t really care where he is as long as he’s with his friends and they’re safe. Apparently, the Petty Officer does care. A lot.

The humecanis almost asks why the prisoner is so worked up about it. He seems shocked but not necessarily afraid. That’s a good sign, Yunho thinks. He opts not to ask anything, though. He’s the first to admit that he’s not exactly the most richly educated individual in the universe. But he’s not gonna admit that in front of their prisoner. The guy’s sort of a twat, and if he sees any opening to be condescending or rude, he’ll take it.

“The captain said Venus, so we’re going to Venus,” Yunho responds matter of factly. He chides himself. He shouldn’t talk to that guy - there’s no reason to indulge him. Still, it conflicts with the canis’s nature to just stand in silence when there’s another person around. He actually likes talking to people and spending time with them.

“ Really ?” Seonghwa asks, and there it is - that tone. The sharp upturn of voice that irritatingly signals his condescension. “ You’re going to Venus - perhaps the most exclusive planet in the universe?”

“Yeah,” Yunho says matter-of-factly.

“And how do you expect to actually get there?”

“Well, unless you can think of a better way, we’re probably gonna get there on a spaceship. You know, like, the one we’re on,” Yunho snarks back. See, he thinks, two can play at that game!

The blond rolls his eyes so dramatically he looks possessed, “Right. Of course. You’ll charm your way past atmospheric security. I’m sure they’ll ignore all of their carefully placed ordinances when they see just how adorable you are.”

“Aw, you think I’m cute?” Yunho can’t help it - his tail wags.

“You’re certainly special,” The prisoner responds dryly.

“Thank you!” The canis beams. He knows it’s sarcasm, but he chooses to ignore it. Mostly because he’s almost certain that it pisses off the petty officer more.

Seonghwa grumbles - and he probably thinks it’s to himself - but the canis’s keen hearing picks it up clearly.

In a low voice, pouting to himself, the petty officer complains, “Fucking vagrants think they’re going to Venus. Like I haven’t tried to get a tourist visa for the past four years . One of the most beautiful planets in the fucking universe and these idiots think they’re gonna see it? God- if they do, I’m gonna kill myself. All the shining palaces would be wasted on them… Such a fucking waste…”

Yunho raises his eyebrows in surprise. The petty officer doesn’t swear much, and the transparent ranting is a far departure from his arctic exterior. Yunho opts not to say anything, though. He likes to employ his weapons strategically, and if he reveals that he can hear a lot better than Seonghwa thinks, the PO will probably never talk around him again.

“Behave and maybe we’ll get you a souvenir,” Yunho jabs. It’s vague enough to not let on that he’d heard the other but pointed enough that it causes alarm.

Seonghwa looks at the canis with wide eyes, the question clearly brewing behind his eyes: did he hear? He doesn’t ask it, though. Instead he frowns, focusing more on finishing his meal quickly. Yunho observes, just as content to stay quiet as the other. He wonders what kind of place Venus is to make Petty Officer Park wanna go there so bad.

Oh well, he thinks. Unlike the guy locked in the cell, he’ll actually get to find out first hand.

“Approaching Venus orbital locale,” ATEEZ’s computer announces softly across the bridge. Sixteen hours later, on the dot. It’s about five A.M. ship time, and it looks to be even earlier on the hemisphere they’re facing. The shadows of night still stretch across the planet. Only a few rays of light tickle the very edge of the longitudinal pole. By the time they land - depending on where they end up - it ought to be close to sunrise.

Hongjoong leans against the pilot’s chair occupied by Yunho as he steers the ship closer. Just like he’d instructed, everyone rose early, donning clean clothes and stomachs recently filled with breakfast. Though it’s not customary, the entire crew is on the bridge. Everyone was eager to check out the famed “Venus” - see if it lived up to all the hype. So far, it’s hard to tell.

From the distance, Venus looks like any other normal terraformed planet. There’s verdant continents and a blue ocean. Joong notes that their ocean looks more purple than blue, but that’s hardly relevant. More noteworthy than Venus itself is what’s around it. Wrapped around the entire planet is a ring of conjoined ships - the atmospheric patrol station. Across the security barrier there are a few gates, and jutting out from them are queues of ships. If Hongjoong had to guess, there’s an invisible field, too. The kind that roasts anyone trying to pass through without the proper permissions.

“Do you think it matters where we go in?” Hongjoong asks Wooyoung. He considers Wooyoung his personal expert on the subject of Venus. Mostly because he’s the only one besides Jongho who’d heard of it before. And he’s actually talked to people who have been there.

“Uh- It shouldn’t,” Wooyoung leans forward from his spot in the other pilot’s chair, “This is weird, though. I dunno why there’s so many ships coming in. I- I’ve never heard of it being so crowded.” He glances across the lines of ships.

“Maybe they’ve loosened up their border patrols after all these years,” Jongho posits. “I mean- isn’t the GC intel old?”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out,” The captain shrugs. He points to the line that looks the shortest, and Yunho carefully steers them there. “You got the paper ready?” He asks Wooyoung. The other nods, fishing it out from his jacket and slapping it onto the console.

It looks convincing. The language is pedantic to the point of excessiveness, and the phony luzidium seal glows iridescently when the light hits it. Hongjoong figures it’ll pass. He doesn’t let himself entertain the idea of it not passing. That kind of negativity is what results in self-fulfilling prophecies of bad things happening to them. The last thing ATEEZ needs is more bad things happening to them. Nope, he convinces himself, it’s gonna work. Because it has to.

San grips the back of Wooyoung’s chair, bouncing excitedly, “I’ve never been to another planet before! This is so cool. There’s so many ships. They all look so different, too. I’ve seen pictures, but...” His voice peters out, giving way to an awestruck expression of wonder.

It’s cute.

The rest of the crew rattles off whatever little factoids they can to inform the siren. He’s newer to this than all the rest of them, and he’s got a lot to learn. They pass most of the queue time that way until they’re one ship away from the dreaded checkpoint. Between them and the outer space of Venus stands a gate of malignant looking lasers. The captain can only imagine what happens to those who are stupid enough to try and pass through them.

Hongjoong gulps nervously. Anxiety darts restlessly between his gut and chest like a trapped creature. He holds onto composure when Yunho slowly pulls the ship up. For a minute, nothing happens. It’s dead silent.

That does nothing for the captain’s nerves.

Worry takes root in his heart, and it spreads like thorny vines, prickling the insides of his chest and even the surface of his skin. A flash of light dazzles everyone in the bridge for a moment. As he blinks the blotches of color out of his vision, Hongjoong realizes it’s not just a flash of light. It’s a scanning beam, and its gleaming trajectory runs down the ship with a low buzzing sound.

“Incoming call!” The ship alerts them. The sudden noise makes at least half of them jump.

Yunho hastily answers it, and a video feed projection pops up in front of the pilot console.

Inside the small rectangle, a rather bored gentleman in a pristine looking white uniform sits. He appears just about as thrilled to be working border patrol as the ATEEZ crew is about having to go through it.

“Combat freighter class Rattlesnake, identifier ATEEZ,” The patrol agent speaks like he’s reading off of a screen, “Any Venusian citizens present?”

For a second, the five exchange confused looks. Like: are there any Venusian citizens present? It takes Hongjoong a few seconds to realize that, really, they’re all looking at him . He’s the captain, so he’s gotta answer the calls - so their faces say. Joong knows this. He was ready for this. He had a plan, sort of. Except, when actually faced with the reality - even though the agent strikes him as more bored than anything - it’s a lot more daunting than he’d thought.

Hongjoong answers, hoping he doesn’t sound as uneasy as he feels, “No, sir.” He pronounces in his best fake-confident tone.

The agent across the feed glances up from his screen and actually looks at the squad in the bridge. Joong freezes - like if he’s not moving, the guy won’t actually be able to see him. Unfortunately, as it turns out, this man is not a reptilian hybrid, and he does, in fact, see them. All of them. In their thrown together, mismatched (albeit clean) clothes. The patrol agent even squints his eyes and leans closer to his own display.

“Wait a minute…” He murmurs curiously.

Joong’s palms clam up with sweat, and the wrings them behind his back. The rest of the ATEEZ crew follows suit, doing their best statue impressions in tense silence.

“You guys look like entertainers- are you guys entertainers?” The agent’s tone alleviates.

Hongjoong practically heaves out a sigh of relief, but they’re not out of the water yet, “Yes.” He improvises. They’d originally come up with a story for being merchants, but Venusian orbital security gets what they want. If they want to call ATEEZ entertainers, then god damn, they’ll be entertainers. “Yes we are,” The captain repeats with more confidence.

Their agent actually grins, “You must be here for the wedding!”

The captain catches a few puzzled glances shooting across the bridge, but he ignores them, focusing on sweet talking the agent, “Isn’t that what everyone’s here for?” He gestures out to the queues of ships at the gates beyond.

“You’re tellin’ me!” The agent chuckles, “This is the busiest I’ve seen this place in over a decade. The Neith royal family is sparing no expense for the proceedings, that’s for certain. Now, lemme just see my list here…”

They have a list?

Why do they have a list?

Why is nothing easy?

Hongjoong tenses up again, readying a slew of excuses and dismissals. He even crosses his fingers behind his back, like it’ll deign some strange karmic luck unto him and his crew.

“Ah-! You know what, here it is!” The agent chirps jovially. The captain practically blurts out the “Really?!” of disbelief sitting on the tip of his tongue. He prudently doesn’t and waits for the agent to elaborate. “I see the confusion here. They had you put down as ‘ITZY’- can you believe that?” He shakes his head. “You know that’s the third misspelling in the past hour. Seriously- What are they doing down there?”

“Ha!” Hongjoong chokes out a forced laugh. Then another and another - enough to show courtesy and humor and definitely not be sketchy. “Funny, that’s- You know we get that a lot, don’t we fellas?” He turns to the others.

“Wha-” “Mhm.” “Oh- Y-yeah.” “ITZY… ATEEZ, it’s easy to mix up.” “Mhm.” “Yeah, definitely, yeah-”

“Alright, well I imagine you guys have a lot of setting up to do,” The agent says. “You’re good to go. Enjoy Venus! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity you guys have. Not only to see the planet- but to be granted the privilege of performing for the royal family of Neith!”

“We feel so, so blessed,” Hongjoong says, slapping on the biggest fake smile he can muster. “Thank you.”

“You all enjoy the wedding! Put on a good show for the royal family!” “Click.” The agent hangs up promptly.

“Beep-beep!” With the high, chirping beep noise, the laser gate flickers off. No sooner than they do, Yunho sends ATEEZ through the fastest he can without being suspicious.

The bridge remains absolutely mute for the following minutes. Everyone stays paralyzed with fear, like the security guard will somehow hear them if they say or do something suspicious. It isn’t until they’re halfway between the checkpoint and Venus’s cloudy atmosphere that someone speaks.

“Did… That just happen?” Jongho squeaks out timidly. “Did we just-”

“Yeah, I think we did,” Wooyoung finishes the thought, doubt dripping from his tone. “I think we just did.”

“That was- it was easy,” Yunho remarks. “Was it- was it supposed to be that easy?”

“They didn’t even ask for the papers,” Wooyoung utters.

Hongjoong clears his throat in an attempt to command the attention of his crew,“I, uh, I guess we have to go, um, where did that guy say that wedding thing is?”

“Neith, I think,” San pipes up.

“Right. Neith. Um- Yunho,” The captain points out the bridge to the other ships ahead of them. “Follow those ships. I’m guessing they’re all heading to Neith. If we don’t head there too, we’ll look suspicious.”

“What do you think Neith is?” The humecanis asks, nudging the ship closer to the others entering the atmosphere.

“They mentioned a royal family,” Jongho says. “Which implies these people have sovereignty over something. It could be a city-state or a province, but given the amount of people coming in from everywhere, I’m guessing it’s more than that.”

“Like a country?”

“Yeah. A big one at that. The kind that covers almost an entire continent,” Jongho says. “My guess is we’re gonna end up in the capital city.”

“I don’t know Neith by name,” Wooyoung mentions, “But I’ve heard about what the cities are like. Big buildings- like huge towers made of glass and all kinds of precious metals. People even say the roads are paved in gold- of course, that’s extreme. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see a lot of it, though. There’s lots of luxury markets and rare goods, but they have normal bazaars, too.”

“Where the hell do the workers live if the cities are so lavish, though? Like the common people?” Hongjoong asks.

Wooyoung shrugs, “They’re put up in dormitories on the outskirts and ride public transit in. At least that’s what I’ve heard. Like I’ve said before, it’s a pretty good deal. Enough to have people clamoring to get in. Of course, we won’t have to worry about that. We’re guests.”

“We’re entertainers,” Jongho corrects the other frankly. “At some point, someone’s gonna expect us to entertain. What are we gonna do then?”

“Eh, we’ll figure it out,” Hongjoong waves dismissively. “I mean- look at all these ships coming in. There’s gotta be thousands of random people swarming the city- palace- whatever. Point is, eight missing performers out of possibly hundreds isn’t gonna rustle any feathers.”

“If you say so, captain,” The youngest concedes. He’s probably got the least to worry about out of all of them. Jongho is naturally well-mannered and clean-cut. If worst comes to worst, he can sing to convince people he’s actually an entertainer, too.

The others, well… San has a dignified air about him, but Joong has a feeling he’s gonna gawk a lot. Maybe that won’t seem too out of place - given that there’s a lot of guests and whatnot. Then there’s Wooyoung who looks significantly less dignified. It’s not that he looks like a straight up thug. He just looks like trouble. Maybe it’s his tendency to bite his lip or the roguish air he has about him. Wooyoung possesses a quality of handsomeness that alerts onlookers: “this guy is up to no good”. That may not be the truth, but a first impression is enough to set the prim and proper types on edge.

Then there’s Yunho. Lovable, cheery Yunho. Just as affable as he is impossible to ignore, the canis will probably get lots of sideways glances. He draws attention even in colonies swimming with diversity. On Venus? He doesn’t stand a chance. Hongjoong hopes they write him off as just one of the many miscellaneous workers in town. The problem is, he’s friendly, too. He smiles real cute-like, and his tail wags. It’s straight-up magnetic, yielding the kind of attractive force sunlight does after a long, cloudy winter.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) there’s not a lot of time to be nervous.

The minutes tick by almost too quickly, and soon they pass through the outer layers of Venus’s atmosphere. They follow the course predicated by the dozens who’d been in line before them. Rolling hills of green and manicured cities cover the continent beneath them. Just as Hongjoong had thought, their sea looked to be a deep violet as opposed to the typical blue. He’s sure there’s some scientific explanation for that, but after his last experience with the ocean, he’s hesitant to even look at a large body of water at all. The crew coos and awes as ATEEZ lowers closer to the continent’s surface.

There’s a lot of lush, tall greenery jutting out of the rolling hills. From up above, mindfully placed roads wind and weave around the terrain thoughtfully. The highways glimmer in the low light of dawn, and Hongjoong starts thinking that maybe there’s something to the whole “streets paved with gold” rumor. As ATEEZ advances, more and more manmade structures peek out from the horizon. They start catching sight of tall towers in the distance as the myriad winding roads start to converge like blood vessels running to the core.

“Whoa…” Yunho gasps. “I think we found out where the royal wedding’s gonna be.” He points straight ahead of them, and every single eye in the bridge follows the tip of his finger.

“Holy shit.” “Is that a- a castle?” “What the…” “Seriously?”

Perhaps the most noticeable thing about the Palace of Neith is its towers. There are two of them, each sitting at opposite ends of the estate. That is: two immense, skyscraping towers that stretch so high above the ground that what few clouds the sky has obscure their peaks. They glitter in the morning sun, a combination of pearlescent metal with intricate, gold carvings along the corners and around what appear to be windows. Hongjoong is almost certain they’d made the structure overly gigantic just so, no matter where a person is at, they can always see the castle.

ATEEZ sails closer, and soon they can make out more of the vast estate belonging to the Neith nobility. Unsurprisingly, a high wall surrounds the grounds, separating it from the grid of city blocks surrounding it. Inside there’s what appears to be two smaller castles on either side of one massive one. Each is decorated similarly to the exemplary towers - a pearlesque, shiny exterior with fiddly, gold detailing. Even from far away, the captain can make out a precise arrangement of hedges in a no doubt pristine garden. If he had to guess, Hongjoong would say the estate by itself is about sixty square kilometers - give or take. Sixty square kilometers of painstakingly maintained, pretentious perfection.

Joong laughs beside himself - Petty Officer Prettyboy really is missing out.

ATEEZ gradually lowers toward the ground, slowing down as they (probably) approach a designated docking lot.

“Everything is so- so shiny,” San actually squints as a nearby building reflects a ray of sunlight into the bridge.

Jongho leans closer to the window, glancing at the people beneath, “Even the people look shiny,” He notes. It’s true. Even from up above Hongjoong catches lustrous bits and bobs twinkling off of the ant-like forms scuttling about on the sidewalks.

“Well,” Hongjoong speaks up, trying to temper his nerves a bit, “Welcome to Venus.”

By the time ATEEZ docks (in ITZY’s designated spot), the sun’s finished it’s lazy climb from beneath the horizon. Gentle warmth radiates across the capital city of Neith, bathing all in a light that promises to triple in intensity by the afternoon. Dock workers scurry around fervently with their tablets and pens. It seems like they’re Venus’s last line of defense - one last check and balance before people are actually allowed in the city. The bookish types speak sternly and quickly before promptly moving onto the next person. Ships continuously populate the docking lot, coming in droves, and the people of Venus definitely don’t seem like they want to dally in moving everyone along. In an orderly fashion, of course.

“With… Ah- Yes, here it is,” The lanky worker who’d been sent to check on ATEEZ mutterse. “ATEEZ!” He calls off, tapping something on his tablet. “Yes- Here it is. The correct spelling now!” He beams, like that simple correction is the key to unlocking the secrets of the universe.

“What a relief,” Hongjoong says, flashing the guy a phony grin.

“R-right, well then. Mm- Yes. I trust you’ve gotten your itinerary delivered to you for the festivities?” The worker asks, pushing his specs up the bridge of his nose.

“We sure do,” The captain replies assuredly.

“Excellent. We thank you for your contribution to the great family of Neith’s glorious proceedings. Now, if you will excuse me,” With that, the dock worker is off. He looks like a woodland creature, the way he scampers off, his legs a blur. The moment he’s out of the vicinity, Hongjoong’s shoulders sag, and he heaves a sigh of relief.

“I already like this better than the last place we landed,” Jongho says as he descends the loading dock. The others aren’t far behind, and soon they gather to solidify their gameplan.

“Okay,” Hongjoong says declaratively when everyone’s circled up. “Wooyoung and I figured out- well, we theorized- that the Compass brought us here for a reason. It’s missing some parts, and it’s old tech. If what they say about Venus is true, then we might be able to find the right parts to get it up and running proper-like.”

“Mhm.” “Okay.” A few murmur responses, and others nod.

The captain continues, “Of course, we don’t know what we’re looking for. Not for the Compass, at least. What we do know, is that we need a part for our landing gear-” He nods toward their ship (which had landed a tad jerkily, to put it lightly). “No doubt the shops here will have parts we can use. Then there’s the matter of this royal wedding thing.”

“Yeah,” Yunho nibbles on his lip nervously, “Are we expected to, like, do something for that?”

Hongjoong shrugs, “I dunno. If people start breathing down our necks, we can improvise, well, something.”

“San can always put ‘em to sleep,” Wooyoung posits.

“Let’s not default to weaponizing the siren,” The captain says. Wooyoung opens his mouth to say something else, and Joong cuts him off, “ Or the kid.” Wooyoung deflates at that.

Hongjoong talks more, mostly so nobody else puts out any stupid ideas, “Okay- My point with that is we have a timeline. We need to find out how long this wedding thing is. These Venus people-”

“Venusians,” Wooyoung cuts in.

“What?”

“They’re called Venusians.”

“ Anyways- these Venusians , they obviously like routines and schedules. We can’t leave early or stick around too long. It’ll definitely rouse their suspicion, and I don’t wanna get vaporized by whatever insane weaponry these people have. So, I, uh… I don’t suppose anyone actually knows when this thing is…?”

The crew exchanges a few dubious looks. “Uh.” “No.” “Nope.” “No idea.” “It’s gotta be soon, right?” “I don’t think it’s today…” “I really don’t know-”

“Great,” Hongjoong claps and lets out a puff of hair. “Great. Okay- Well, I propose we hit the bazaars first and scope out parts. At the very least we can fix our landing gear. I grabbed a few things I think we might be able to trade.”

“So,” Yunho holds up a finger, “Just to get this clear. We’re gonna… Hit the bazaar, get some parts, and lay low until this wedding thing is over with?”

“Uh, yeah. Pretty much. Any questions?” The captain opens it up to crew. He’s met with a collective shake of the head and a couple of muttered no’s. “Good! Then let’s go.”

Hongjoong walks in the same direction that everyone else is walking. He doesn’t actually know where the hell he’s going, but he assumes someone does. They’ll at least be able to lead him out of the docking lot. Hopefully. He remains steadfast and silent as the rest of his crew chatters behind him.

“Do you think they’ll have meat stalls?” Yunho asks.

“Probably. Yum , fresh food…” Jongho almost audibly drools.

“Okay,” Wooyoung says softly, “I dunno how markets are where you’re from-” So he’s speaking to San, Joong muses. “-but they can get pretty crazy here. People might even, like, tug on your clothes or yell stuff. Just ignore them, okay?”

“Is it not appropriate to open hand to hand combat when you’re harassed?” San asks quietly. Hongjoong almosts blows his cover by snorting, but he represses the sound (barely).

“Wh- No! Not on this planet,” Wooyoung speaks in such a sweet tone to the siren, it almost sickens Hongjoong. It definitely contradicts what he’d gone on about earlier “being bad with people” and whatnot. Hongjoong opts to stay out of it, of course.

Wooyoung hushedly instructs the other, “Just stick close to me, okay?”

“Okay,” San replies.

The streets of Neith’s capital city are, in fact, paved in gold. That’s the first thing Hongjoong learned upon truly entering the capital city called Sais. The next thing he learned is that Sais had been designed and built to surround and support the palace as fortification originally. From above, the entire city looks like one big grid surrounding the focal point in the middle: the palace estate.

Surprisingly, the pretention and compulsive nature of the Venusian people serves ATEEZ’s crew well in this case. Being that the entire place is a grid, and streets are named simply. Those running east and west are assigned symbols and those running north to south have numbers. The docking lot that they’d landed in was nestled in a five by five block area between Tau Twelve and Tau Seventeen. A nice worker close to the exit informed the captain that the best marketplace in the city happens to be close by - at the corner of Pi Fifteen.

The crew set off given her directions, gawking all the way. The sidewalks upon which they stroll are made of marble. Ornate floral patterns of gold and silver are inlaid into the gleaming slabs, and between them spans the aforementioned street paved in literal gold. Though a few shining hovercars drive along the thoroughfare, Hongjoong gets the impression that Sais is more a pedestrian city than anything else.

Locals and visitors are very easy to tell apart. Visitors look… Well, normal. They walk the streets craning their necks and picking their jaws up off the ground, gaping and gasping at every turn. There’s people of all sizes, shapes, colors and races - from pointy-eared elves to broad-shouldered orcmen. Much like back in KQ, they’re wearing all sorts of things and speaking in different dialects of the Coalition enforced universal language. Those are the visitors.

Then there’s the Venusians.

Their presence is so jarringly distinguishable from the rest, it almost seems like they’re the foreigners. One thing Hongjoong notices immediately is that they’re all tall. No, he thinks, not tall. Statuesque. Statuesque describes them well, he thinks, because not just their physical form but even their features look like they’ve been artfully carved. There’s not a doughy face or delicate jawline among them. A person could practically get cut by the borderline severity of Venusian features. Their skin, though varying in tones, glimmers in the mellow morning sunlight. He wonders - is it a cosmetic thing like highlight or liquid glitter, or do Venusians just possess a natural glow. Whatever the origin, they all possess it. All hair is kept neat - be it neatly braided, cut short or pulled back. Their clothing almost looks like a uniform. They wear light colors - almost mistakable for white, but the textiles are lustrous, strewn with gold and platinum, from the looks of it. There’s no graphic prints or busy details. The silhouettes are simple, tailored to highlight (or at least simulate) the apparent ideal of a tall, slender body. When they speak, their tone turns up and curls around the syllables of their native language prettily. Hongjoong never thought in a million years he’d come across a people more full of themselves than the elves or even the GC officers at the jail. He starts to wonder if he was wrong.

“This place is the real deal,” The words drop from Wooyoung’s mouth almost unconsciously, dripping with awe and wonder.

San clamors closer to his close confidant’s side and even takes his hand, “I’ve never seen so- so much- metal and- And light.” He blinks uncomfortably.

“How much do you think this sidewalk cost to build?” Jongho asks, eyes fixed on the ground as they walk.

“Probably more money than I’ll ever see in my life,” Yunho responds. “D’you think they bathe in gold?”

“Uh- They’re paving the streets in gold. They probably wouldn’t dare touch the stuff,” Wooyoung responds. “I bet they bathe in platinum.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Hongjoong says over his shoulder to the crew walking behind him. “Let’s quiet down about how obscenely rich these people are. If we wanna haggle with them we need to get on their good side and not be- Jongho stop staring at the sidewalk!”

“Sorry- I’m sorry!” The youngest replies sheepishly.

“I’m just saying let’s try to be- I dunno- upstanding citizens. Y’know, so these people actually want to do business with us when we get to the bazaar,” The captain instructs.

“They said at Pi and uh, Fifteen?” Yunho asks.

Joong nods, “Yup. So that should be right…” He pauses. “Right here?” He halts. The others bump into one another, unprepared for the abrupt stop. Hongjoong turns to look beside him and it does, in fact, look like a bazaar. Of sorts. Between two buildings extends a long strip of gold lined with stalls, blankets spread with nick nacks, carts and a few modest storefronts. Earthy, herbal smalls waft out onto the street from a nearby food vendor. A hex-quilted force field stretches above the space, diffusing the light and protecting the shoppers below from radiation. The variety of stalls, the little street performer acts, the people hocking wares - those are things Hongjoong recognizes as indicative of a bazaar or marketplace. However, what spurns his hesitance is the one distinct thing it lacks.

“It’s so… Orderly ,” Yunho remarks, as if reading Hongjoong’s mind.

Yes, there’s tons of vendors along the long strip. Yes, both visitors and Venusians alike traipse the shops up and down in search of a deal. But they do so while respecting the personal space of others with hushed voices and polite salutations. It’s a far, far departure from the absolute chaos that Hongjoong is used to. Nobody’s hollering, tugging, making demands or starting fights. There are no shout matches over something being too expensive or pickpockets darting around between peoples’ legs.

“When do they start yelling?” San asks naively.

“You sure this is the right place?” Wooyoung inquires.

“Uh-” Hongjoong glances at the nearby street sign, “This is definitely Fifteen and Pi.” He steps to the side and bumps into a Venusian woman with a child.

“Excuse me, my apologies,” She says, her voice outlined with the almost curly sounding Venusian accent. With a deferent nod, she carries on, completely unruffled.

“Did she just say ‘excuse me’?” Yunho gasps. His tail falls between his legs.

“And she even apologized,” Jongho adds facetiously.

“I know- what was up with that!?” The canis huffs.

Jongho shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Though he’s the youngest, he bravely leads the charge into the bazaar without a care in the world. The rest of the crew scuttles behind him, and they quickly fall into line, doing their best to align with the Venusian manners. Hongjoong, determined not to rock the boat or stir anything, does almost all of the talking. He quickly learns that there is no price haggling in a Venusian bazaar. You pay what they tell you to, or you get out (with very polite parting words, of course). The problem with that is - very true to the planet and city’s brand - everything is expensive.

Hongjoong winces when given no choice but the accept the paltry sums he’s offered for the stuff he’d swiped. He thought that some of the workers there on contract might extend a little courtesy - maybe give him more than the locals, since he’s offering them good stuff without the middleman. But not even they budge. Maybe the prospect of being kicked off for rule-bending is too great a threat to them. Joong doesn’t know. He doesn’t much care, either. In the grand scheme of things, he’s still coming up shorter than he wants, and he’s got a feeling that ship parts don’t come cheap around these parts.

As budget conscious as he is, though, Hongjoong’s not exactly strict or stingy. He’s perfectly fine when Yunho and San approach him with hands full of skewered meat, and he even finds his eyes drifting to racks of clothes as they pass through the place.

“-there’s Sais Parts and Services a few blocks down, but they tack on services fees. The Ship Department is nicer and has a wider variety, but also more expensive. Siddharth is best equipped to serve those sorts of needs,” An amiable Venusian vendor tells Hongjoong. She gives him a polite nod and repositions the baby in her arms slightly.

The ATEEZ crew has reached just about halfway down one side of the place, and the captain’s made it his mission to find the best deal on ship parts possible. He’s been asking around and, surprisingly, the Venusians don’t seem inclined to swindle their naive visitors. In any other place, the savvy types would steal right from under a customer’s nose - they’d do it with a massive grin and their best customer service voice. It’s usually up to the customer to know their stuff, or else they’re the moron who let themselves get upcharged five times the going price for something. Apparently, that’s not how they do it on Venus.

“You’re not the only one who mentioned him,” Hongjoong replies with an authentic smile. “Thank you, miss.” He turns to her infant, “And thank you, too.” He coos.

The Venusian baby hiccups, and its little face wrinkles.

“W-waaah!” He bursts into tears, face red and tiny arms flailing.

Wooyoung snickers from behind him, “Ha-! Look what you did!”

Hongjoong groans internally and tries not to let it impact his self esteem too much. So what if he talks to a baby and it cries? Babies cry all the time! It has nothing to do with his looks - right? Right?

“I’m so sorry,” The shopkeeper gasps. She looks absolutely devastated - like having a crying baby is a cardinal sin and she’s about to meet her maker for judgment. “I’m so, sorry he’s- he’s not used to all these strangers. It’s been very busy. There, there,” She tries rocking the little one and making tutting noises, but it doesn’t seem to help.

San (who’d been next to Wooyoung) steps over to Hongjoong’s side quietly. He grins at the baby and makes a few shushing sounds before parting his lips.

“Snowflakes are falling, getting farther away. I miss you, I miss you...”

The siren’s voice enters Hongjoong’s ears, his saccharine syllables trickling in like sweet wine. For a moment, everything else fades. Even the edges of his vision distorts, smudging and blurring ever so slightly. Strangely enough, in spite of the disorientation, Hongjoong doesn’t feel any stress. He feels quite the opposite, actually. An almost dizzying sense of calm washes over him like a gentle wave.

Just as quickly as it’d come, the sensation vanishes, and the captain’s vision clears quickly. For some reason he feels… Better. He wasn’t even aware of just how anxious he’d been until becoming unwound. He also notices something else: the distinct lack of a baby’s crying.

“Your voice,” The vendor pipes up in a hushed tone, “It’s beautiful. You put him right to sleep. You- you must be performers, then. For the wedding festivities.”

San smiles and nods, his fond gaze never leaving the child, “Yes, we are.”

“You must tell me when and where you are sleighted to perform. I would love to see your act,” The woman smiles graciously.

“I- Uh-” San looks to Hongjoong for help.

Solutions, alternatives, stories and lies all whip and whir through Joong’s head as he searches for an answer. Quick on his toes, he flashes the Venusian a smile and answers:

“Unfortunately, due to some unforeseen circumstances our… Concrete time of performance is indeterminate. However,” Hongjoong glances over his shoulder. There happens to be an empty spot across the bazaar’s main thoroughfare. Perhaps whoever had laid shop there had packed up for the day. “In the meanwhile we actually intended to hold a small performance for tips.” San raises his eyebrows at the captain, more impressed than piqued.

“How fantastic! We will be fortunate enough to hear you, then,” She beams.

“Yes, we’re going to set up now, actually,” Hongjoong gives a polite parting wave before trudging across the way. He waves Yunho, Jongho, and Wooyoung over, and his four loyal crew-turned-obligate-performer-troupe follow.

“Uh- What was that?” Wooyoung asks, pupils dancing between the shopkeeper behind them and unoccupied stretch of market strip in front of them.

“ That was a stroke of genius,” Hongjoong tells them as they claim their spot along the strip.

“What’s he talking about?” Yunho - who hadn’t bothered listening in - asks.

San grins, “We’re gonna perform for tips.”

“You sure it wasn’t just a stroke?” Jongho asks dryly.

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, the both of you are good at singing and Wooyoung is-” He waves vaguely, hoping something will come to him. “You two are really good at singing,” He repeats. Wooyoung furrows his brows. “ And Wooyoung has the street smarts to turn our little sideshow act into a promising short-term enterprise.”

“What happened to no weaponizing the siren?” Wooyoung crosses his arms and frowns. “And- And I dunno how comfortable I feel exploiting San’s gifts as- like- a meal ticket.” His ears flush ever so slightly.

“A- What?” Hongjoong leers at the other. “First of all, money isn’t my meal ticket. It’s for everyone . Secondly- Do I have to remind you that we all have, like, one set of clothes each?”

“Yeah, but this is the exact shit people used sirens for before-”

“Hi,” San holds up a hand. “Siren here- you know, the one you two are talking about. As if I can’t hear you. I, for one, am all for exploiting my gifts for capital gain in this instance.” Hongjoong raises his eyebrows at Wooyoung as if to say “I told you so”. “ But ,” San adds, his tone softening, “I really do appreciate your consideration.” He gives Wooyoung a warm sideways glance, and the captain almost feels like he’s walked in on something private.

“Wh- Nobody cares if I’m exploited,” Jongho huffs sarcastically. “And what are you two gonna be doing while we bust our asses?” He points to captain and canis.

“Yunho and I are gonna head toward the palace and see what we can find out about this wedding. I figure after getting a timeline, we can convene, hopefully do some shopping and start asking around about the Compass. That seem reasonable to all of you?”

“Yup.” “Sounds good to me.” “I don’t care.”

Hongjoong nods,“Good. Yunho, come o-”

“Excuse me,” A tiny voice interrupts from behind them. Hongjoong turns around, and at first, he whips his head around confusedly. “Excuse me.” The voice says again, muted and thickly accented.

The captain blinks before looking down. He’s met with the sight of a tiny Venusian boy. He’s probably no more than four years old (assuming they age about the same as other humanoids).

“Uh, yes?” Hongjoong crouches down to meet the child’s height, speaking softly. He prays he doesn’t scare this one, too. An adult figure joins the youngling’s side and chuckles sheepishly.

“Use your words, little one,” He encourages (presumably) his child.

Hongjoong can’t help but notice that the kid’s not really looking at him at all. Oh, no, his eyes are somewhere else - and when the captain follows them, he’s not surprised.

“E-Excuse me. I was wondering if I may pet the puppy,” The young boy points to Yunho, big brown eyes wide with fascination.

“U-Uh,” Hongjoong is genuinely taken aback, and he doesn’t know how to answer that. “Um, actually-” He looks to Yunho for help.

“U-um,” The canis looks just as uncomfortable as the captain. Usually, this is the part where he uses colorful expletives to tell someone to fuck off. But, that “someone” usually isn’t an adorable, tiny Venusian child with good manners and chubby cheeks.

“How much?” The father adds.

“I’m sorry?” Joong blurts out. “C-Come again?”

“How much to pet the puppy? One-hundred credits?” The Venusian withdraws a slender wallet from his jacket.

Hongjoong and Yunho exchanged shocked looks.

Yunho, face flushed deep red, holds his hands up in front of himself, “I- I think you’re misunderstanding-”

“Two-hundred?” The Venusian man asks again, completely nonchalant.

Two-hundred?

Two-hundred credits?

Two-hundred crisp, untraceable, paper credits? In their hand? To cop a feel?

Hongjoong can think of a lot of things they could do with two hundred credits. (At least, things they could do on planets where inflation isn’t insane.) Two-hundred credits can get a couple weeks worth of groceries with careful planning. It can buy some manual injection meds or a half a tank of fuel.

The captain gives his pilot a pleading, wide-eyed expression, nonverbally begging: “ Please take this man’s money.” Okay, so maybe he is exploiting is crew a bit today. But only mildly - and for everyone’s benefit!

Yunho, taking the hint, pouts. He squats down, lowering his long body as much as possible to match the kid’s height and sticking his tail out with a noncommittal wag.

“Two-hundred is fine,” Hongjoong replies to the man with a wide, ear-to-ear grin. The Venusian hands over the bills, and his child bounces giddily, going straight for the tail. He sees the man reach into his jacket again to withdraw a capture screen and pipes up, “It’s three-hundred with a picture.”

“That was humiliating,” Yunho grumbles as the to emerge from the hexagonal shading of the bazaar.

“That was three-hundred credits- and a very happy child,” Hongjoong preens as he fans out the bills. All three of them. He’s not used to big bills and dejectedly admits to himself: it just doesn’t feel quite as special. He supposes he ought to be grateful he got any money at all, lack of glamorous, fantastic making-it-rain capabilities aside.

“It was a cute kid,” The canis admits. “Lucky for him! If that guy had an ugly child, I’d have told him to fuck off.”

“You’re lucky I respect you or I’d start telling people to make a line. I saw a few others checking out that tail,” Hongjoong jokes.

“You’re despicable,” The dog barks with no bite. It’s the type of stuff only Hongjoong can say because they’ve been glued at the hip since childhood. If anyone else said anything like that, Yunho would (rightfully) kick their ass. The sickening truth is that there are lots of folks in the universe who would use Yunho like that. Yunho knows Hongjoong isn’t one of them, though. That’s why he can say basically whatever the hell he wants.

It gets more densely crowded the closer they get to the palace. Hongjoong didn’t even bother asking for directions. The massive towers really are visible from anywhere there’s a window or visual of the sky. Using those as a guideline, he leads the other toward the iridescent spires of Sais Castle.

The pair passes block after block of high-rise, rich looking condominiums, luxury shops and pristine looking corporate suites. It seems as if even nature itself is given strict rules in Sais. Plant life is confined to carefully inset planters with rococo engravings and trimmed so as to not stick out even a millimeter beyond its laid out boundary. Every so often, the hairs stick up on the back of Hongjoong’s neck, and they pass a uniformed officer. Venus is independent, so they don’t don the iconic black uniform of the Coalition. Instead, they wear lustrous silver uniforms that match wonderfully with their charcoal gray boots and meter long rifles.

Hongjoong wonders why the hell anyone needs a gun that big - let alone the guard on a bougie planet like Venus. He wonders if the locals feel safer with their guard lugging around the titanic things. Or, maybe all the guests swarming in prompted the rolling out of the rapid-reload, auto-scope carpet. Joong strikes the thoughts from his head. He doesn’t want his thinking about being at the business end of one of those things to turn into some self-fulfilling prophecy. Being in the presence of them is bad enough.

Eventually myriad roads converge into a single place - a glistening plaza. Tents cover the vast court, arranged in a thoughtful, well spaced out manner of course. More venors sell wares, and weaving between the temporarily erected structures are performers. Garbed in the most color Hongjoong had seen all day, they sway and bounce animatedly, following the minstrels and spreading joy throughout the gathering crowd. Guards decorate almost every corner like statues. It seems excessive, but Joong supposes it’s not surprising. Rich people are paranoid. They’ll do anything to protect themselves from threats. (Threats usually being things like dust mites. Or the poor.) Just beyond the artistically laid marble tile of the plaza sits the massive, heavy looking castle gates.

“Is he coming?” “They’re coming!” “I want to see him up close!” Quiet chatter erupts in the cluster of people gathering in the middle of the square.

“Wh- Who’s coming?” Yunho asks.

Hongjoong shrugs. All he wants to know is when the hell this wedding is going down. The captain and pilot stealthily integrate with the growing throng toward the center of the plaza. Joong can barely see between the people, it’s so crowded. An energy barrier at the front separates the people from a gold platform not far away from the two. A few sleek, crystal chairs line the back, and a platform sits front and center. It seems like someone is coming after all.

“Oh my god- is that them?” “I wanna see.” “P-please excuse me.” “Please pardon me.” “I apologize.” Perhaps the most well-mannered commotion Hongjoong has ever witnessed breaks out around them. Venusians and visitors alike nudge past gingerly, uttering apologies all the while. “Sorry.” “Apologies!” “Pardon me.” “If I may just squeeze past-” “Excuse me.” “Oh my god- if it’s really him, I’m going to die.” “I think they’re coming- oh goodness, do I look okay?!” “Sorry.”

“Wh- Who is it?” Hongjoong jumps up and down, trying to catch a glimpse of the platform. He makes out silhouettes drawing nearer from the distance, but the more people fill in, the harder it is for him to see above their heads.

“You wanna sit on my shoulders?” Yunho snarks.

“Sh-shut up,” The captain gripes.

“Come on,” The canis grabs his captain’s wrist and drags them forward. Hongjoong protests emphatically, whispering curses at the other. Yunho ignores him. He barks half-hearted apologies here and there as he butts his way right up to the barrier. Joong feels his face burn beet red - this is not keeping a low profile. The last thing he wants is to piss someone off in this already very delicate situation. Clearly, the Venusians take manners very seriously. Who knows what can happen if someone who actually matters takes offense to their actions?

“Oh my- It’s happening-” “He’s here!” “They’re coming.” “Hush- hush!” “He’s so handsome.” “The princess is so lucky.” “S-sorry, may I trouble you for a closer look?” “P-please just, if I could squeeze by-” “What a man-” “If I was twenty years younger…”

There’s so many whispers that they start to meld into a singular, buzzing hum of vague voices. They’re quickly drowned out by a trumpeted fanfare of sorts. The tune is upbeat, full of little staccato peaks outlined with jaunty strings. Yunho manages to reach a spot not too far off center, nestled between a couple of Venusian families. No sooner than the two take their spot does a small pack of people take their seats atop the elegant, carved-crystal chairs on the platform.

Four tall, majestic figures sit like ducks in a row, upright and proper. On the far left is an older gentleman, distinguished and handsome. If someone looked up “Venusian” in a book, surely his picture would show up. Sunlight catches the peaks of his carved facial features, twinkling brilliantly in the late morning sun. The sparkling textile from which his (flawlessly tailored) garb had been fashioned from bore a monochromatic pattern. If Joong didn’t look closely, he wouldn’t even notice the white on white floral design. A woven circlet sits upon his head, polished so perfectly that it rivals mirrors for its reflective properties. The woman - no, this isn’t a woman, Joong thinks, this is a lady. The lady sitting next to him looks even more stunning. The cut of her gown is simple and fitted, completely uncanny in accentuating her goddess-like figure. She, too, wears a circlet, though hers is slightly less grand, donning only a few twirls. Next to her sit two young men. Their circlets are simple metal bands, signifying a lower rank.

It takes almost embarrassingly long for it to click in Hongjoong’s mind: this is the royal family of Neith. Somehow, he, a jackass junker from a backwater earth knockoff, has found himself in front of literal royalty. Not just any royalty, either. Venusian royalty. The royalty of a planet that doesn’t let just anyone in. Once again, the captain asks himself:

How the hell did I get here?

Except, for the first time in way too long, the question isn’t in the context of something awful happening. That’s not to say being in the presence of royalty is great or anything. In all honesty, the captain doesn’t give a rat’s about that type of stuff. He’s way too busy handling his own shit to care what this royal wears or who that royal marries. He supposes if he’d grown up on a planet where royalty was more than just something out of a story book, he’d care. But he doesn’t. He’s on a planet of rich people, and these people just happen to be extra rich. And possibly inbred. That’s his take on it.

“They’re so… Shiny ,” Yunho gasps hushedly. Joong blinks with bafflement and casts a sideways glance at his companion. The canis looks absolutely starstruck. Just as the captain’s about to berate him (because who the fuck cares about people just because they’re wealthy and privileged) the instrumental fanfare stops. The ensuing silence prompts everyone to shut their mouths.

A fifth person steps onto the platform - someone unofficial and entirely unremarkable. He stands tall and gazes across the sizeable crowd, waiting for the remnant whispers to cease. When they do, he speaks in a clear, deep, accented voice.

“Greetings and best of latemorn to all,” He starts. Suddenly, a huge screen projection flickers to life behind the platform. The already lanky gentleman appears as big as a building in the massive screen. Even his pores appear on the screen - though, to nobody’s surprise, they’re almost nonexistent.

“As high herald to the esteemed Song family, royal family of our beautiful country of Neith, it is my privilege to welcome all to the Nile Plaza on this glorious day. I have had the honor of holding this position for the past two decades, and in this time, I have also had an even more special honor.” The herald gestures behind him, toward one of the young men. “I have had the pleasure of watching young Prince Mingi grow from a rather hesitant child into a brilliant, righteous young man.”

The feed on the screen swivels from the speaker to one of the young men sitting. It’s the one on the far right. The young man - Prince Mingi - sits so uprightly, it makes Hongjoong correct his own posture. A look of serene boredom is plastered on the guy’s face. He looks around their age, Hongjoong realizes. He wonders what that guy’s done all his life. Taken royal lessons from his royal teachers in his royal castle? And now what, he’s gonna get married? To royalty? The thought makes him cringe. His lifestyle is far from glamorous, but the thought of being so tied down at such a young age makes him squirm. Sure, everything’s handed to you, but at what cost?

Something hits the back of Hongjoong’s leg, and he jumps up with a soft yelp. It hits Joong again - a gentle, consistent force. His head whips around, looking for something, anything that could be the source. Then, he glances right next to himself and catches the culprit red-handed. Or, maybe, blond-tailed? Yunho’s face is tilted, and he stares at the screen, his face fixed in an expression of intrigued inquisition. In spite of his almost blank expression, his tail bats back and forth wildly. He likes what he sees.

Joong rolls his eyes before returning them to the screen. He didn’t hear what the herald guy said, but Prince Mingi’s standing up now. Seeing his majesty from head to toe on a big screen, Hongjoong waves the rhetorical white flag. He gets Yunho. He gets the people who’d been whispering earlier. Most importantly: he gets a nice look at Prince Song Mingi.

To put it profanely: he hot. Broad shoulders taper into a waist so tiny Joong half-theorizes there’s a corset under that fitted suit. Of course, that theory gets lost and forgotten when the captain looks at his legs. Perhaps the better way to put it is to say that it’s the man above who belongs to the legs. They’re almost too well muscled to belong to someone that skinny, and Hongjoong almost loathes the prince for the fact that his legs are probably as tall as Joong’s entire body. No, Hongjoong thinks as he circles back to Prince Mingi’s face, he definitely loathes this guy. He’s rich, privileged, has job security, is getting married to someone who’s probably as hot as he is - for a second Joong forgets his love of freedom and stews in bitterness.

Just a second, though. Then, he makes a sheepish return to reality as he recalls that hating someone he doesn’t even know is stupid. Even if said someone is probably a prick. He can’t be worse than Officer Park, at least.

“So that’s what a prince looks like,” Yunho murmurs. He’s still frozen with wonderment like someone had pressed the pause button on a video.

“Scary, I know,” Hongjoong whispers back. There’s a lurking fear in the back of his head that if they’re caught talking one of those giant rifles is gonna get shoved up his ass.

“He’s so- Like- majestic,” Yunho responds mutedly.

“Yes, he’s a royalty. They probably have classes on how to stand all proper-like.”

“It’s just royalty.”

“What?”

“You said he’s ‘a royalty’ - but I think you just say royalty. Like ‘he is royalty’, you know?”

“Wh- Are you really correcting me right now?”

“I’m just saying… A royalty sounds weird.”

“Oh my god-”

“Shh!” Someone behind them shushes indignantly.

Hongjoong leans closer to Yunho, quieting himself more, “Since when are you into this stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“All this royalty crap?”

“Wh- I am not into royalty you weirdo,” Yunho nods toward the screen, “I’m into him .”

“Well get out of him.”

“Pfft- I wish I w-”

“You will not finish that sentence, if someone overhears us we’ll get killed or something,” The captain whispers intensely. “They probably have decency laws about language.”

“You started it.”

“Fine- Well, I’m ending it now. So shut up and stop fantasizing about becoming Princess Yunho.”

“Shhh!” The person shushes them again . Hongjoong rolls his eyes, opting to ignore them. Venusians are too polite to start fights, anyways. As long as the guards don’t overhear them talking shit, they’re fine, he figures.

“Fuck you I’ll fantasize about what I want. Plus I’d look great in a dress.”

“If a dress is what you want, we can buy you a dress. Will that make you happy?”

“Do you think he’s a nice guy?”

“What?”

“The prince, idiot. Like- I dunno he looks kinda scary, I’m not gonna lie.”

“All Venusians look scary, it’s a moot poi- why are we still talking about this?!”

“What’s the name Mingi mean, anyways? It’s kinda cutesy for a dude like him, don’t you think? Mingi . Min-gi-”

“Shh!” The person behind them hisses again . Hongjoong scowls, and he opens his mouth to give the person a piece of his mind. However, the queen rises from her chair, and his attention is snatched away yet again. She greets her people with a graceful, reserved smile before imparting her words unto them:

“-it is our honor to share this beautiful milestone in our son’s life with not just ourselves, but with the good people of Neith.”

Honor. Honor, honor, honor. They say that a lot Joong muses. Like a lot. He thinks they’re just about as honored as a donkey’s ass. Do people actually believe that the royal family gives a shit? Then again, he supposes there’s no real “lower class” present, so maybe she does care about the wellbeing of her people. It’s easier to care when the general populous is at least somewhat like you - in this case rich as hell.

“In just two days time we will see the glorious matrimony of our Mingi to the Princess of Amalthea. In doing so, he shall ascend to his rightful place on the throne-” She turns to the King with a coy grin, “-and give his majesty some much needed rest.” Conciliatory chuckles rumble through the crowd.

Two days - that’s the useful bit. That means they’ve got three nights to gather supplies and, hopefully, find out something about the Compass.

Her majesty goes on, “To thank the citizens of Neith for their undying loyalty and support, we are doing something unprecedented in gratitude. Tonight, at six o'clock sharp, we shall be opening the doors to the palace. We invite you to dine, dance, and engage in merriment with us in our grand hall!” Shocked gasps and thrilled whispers erupt throughout the crowd.

Unprecedented indeed, the captain think. He doesn’t know much about royalty, but he knows that they don’t invite commoners into their house to party. It’s weird, but not necessarily suspicious. Maybe Venusians are more lovey-dovey than he’d thought. Or maybe they just wanted to throw the biggest rager so they could have bragging rights for the next generation. Hongjoong doesn’t know their motive nor does he care. Through all the frippery and fluff, he takes away two very, very important words: free food.

Hongjoong smiles at that thought, and he leans over to Yunho, “I think we got all we need. Wanna find the guys?”

“But they’re not finished,” Yunho says, the slightest note of a pouty whimper in his tone.

“We know when the wedding is, and we know that in approximately seven hours there’s gonna be free food waiting for us in a swanky castle. I say we split and get some shit done. Then we’ll have times to doll ourselves up for the party. Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah, sure,” Yunho’s response is distracted, at best.

In departure, it’s Hongjoong dragging Yunho by the wrist. He does his best impression of a mannerly Venusian, apologizing profusely as the two wade through the crowd. Joong’s gaze is focused up front, but he’s pretty damn certain Yunho’s eyes haven’t left the screen.

The captain decides to let his pilot daydream a little longer. Joong likes to space out in his own rite - he did base his life dream off of a story after all. In spite of that, his protective streak wants to pull Yunho back down to reality. Guys like Prince Mingi don’t give a shit about their kind - the hard-working, barely-getting-by dreamers. The only reason they’re even breathing the same air as royalty is because they’d conned their way onto the planet. Hongjoong already knows how this is gonna go.

Yunho’s gonna float around with his head in the cloud until he’s dragged down by the truth - in this case, a giant, elaborate wedding - and then he’s gonna mope for days with his tail sagging pathetically. Obviously Yunho doesn’t actually expect to even talk to the guy - he’s optimistic, but not stupid. Still, he likes to fall in love with ideas . He’ll fall head over heels for the idea of some charming royal sweeping him off his feet, and when it inevitably doesn’t happen, he’ll sulk. It’s happened before - with the pretty girl from the private school near the apartment, with the sharp kid who lived a floor below them, with the hot snake hybrid who banged him and ghosted him afterward - and it’ll happen again. Hongjoong sighs internally. Just like all the other times, it’ll be him picking up the broken pieces, too.

Even knowing all of that, he doesn’t have the heart to disincline Yunho. After all, there’s always that one slim possibility that maybe, maybe things turn out different than the order of the universe dictates. Maybe, just this once, the universe will throw the dog a bone. But Hongjoong doesn’t like his chances.

God knows what goes through the heads of these crazy rich Venusians.