Chapter Text
Sometimes, Seungyoun swears that he can hear the ocean sing.
When the seas are calm, when he's off duty and free to enjoy a nice tankard of rum at the stern with the wind tugging at his hair, when sunlight bounces off the water and clouds drift apart to reveal skies as blue as the ocean itself, Seungyoun swears that he could hear this sweet, incessant melody humming beneath the waves. If anyone else in the crew hears this, none of them comment on it. Perhaps life at sea has finally, finally driven him insane.
Though it's quite alright with him. Insanity aside, it's funny and flattering to think that the ocean only sings to him, that the faint song he hears across the sea is for his ears only.
"Hey," Seungwoo says, tossing him a coil of rope. Seungyoun, too busy listening to the ocean, only barely manages to catch it.
"Hangyul's taking a break. The jib sail's luffing." Seungwoo flicks his head to the side, hat almost flying off in the process. "Get to it, first mate."
Seungyoun stifles a groan. The Butterfly is small, but she’s also manned by a relatively small crew; there's always shit to be done around here. By now, he knows better than to complain.
"Aye, captain."
On his way to the bow, he passes Junho and Eunsang, who are decidedly not doing a good job at sweeping the main deck, instead laughing and playing games with one another. He would tell them to get to work, but Seungwoo’s already on his way. When Seungyoun looks up, he catches Dohyon waving to him from the crow's nest. He smiles back.
They're a scrappy, ragtag band of pirates. So small, so weak, in fact, that one would hesitate to call them pirates at all. They're merely outcasts, sailing from shore to shore in their tiny brigantine, making a meager income off of busking in port cities and raiding whatever other ships they can take on.
It hasn't always been them. Not long ago, Minkyu, Jungmo, and Wonjin had gone ashore to finish their schooling, leaving Hyeongjun and Minhee in their midst. Shortly after, Yunseong and Donghyun followed. Later on, they found Yohan and Hangyul in another coastal town, both trained fighters weary of life as mercenaries. They blended almost seamlessly with the rest of the crew to the extent where Seungyoun could no longer imagine what the ship would be like without them.
As for Seungyoun himself-- he could hardly imagine any life if not one spent on the high seas. He's been seafaring for basically his entire life, having been practically raised aboard his father's merchant vessel. Then, he had spent a couple of frustrating years on land. When he first found Seungwoo, the ex-naval officer had been just like him; lost, aimless, drifting as if at sea. They had sailed away together, seeking to build a life around tales of adventure and grandeur.
And Seungyoun thinks that's exactly the kind of life they managed to build, with Seungwoo as the captain and Seungyoun by his side. No matter what changes on board the ship, this much will always be certain.
At the bow, Seungyoun continues to listen to the sea. When it keeps singing, perhaps he could imagine that it's an old friend humming in his ear. He smiles and gets to work.
It's a quiet day when Seungyoun first spots something in the water, shimmering and strange. it passes by in a flash, a collection of red scales glittering in the sunlight that disappears just as quickly as it had appeared. Had it not been for the faint ripples that it left behind, Seungyoun wouldn't have believed that he saw it at all.
However, the silence doesn't last long. Clouds begin to gather in the sky. A drop of rain falls on Seungyoun's nose.
"Storm's afoot," Eunsang says next to him, squinting into the distance.
Seungyoun nods. "Go tell the captain. I'll get some extra hands and get the trysails up."
When Eunsang hurries off, Seungyoun wanders around the ship. the clouds grow darker by the minute, gathering and circling overhead. By the time he finds Hyeongjun and Minhee in the galley, it's already begun to pour.
They get the Butterfly storm-rigged just as the wind picks up. Small mercies. Everyone on board rushes into the berth, save for Dongpyo, who's currently struggling at the bridge.
"Go in," Seungyoun urges Dongpyo, putting a hand on his shoulder. Dongpyo looks over at him, one hand blocking the wind. After a moment's hesitation, he nods and runs off, trying his best to keep his balance above deck. Dongpyo's a fine sailor, has good senses when it comes to the helm, but it takes more than just instinct to navigate winds like these.
Lightning flashes ahead of the ship. A few seconds later, thunder follows, a rolling growl in the distance. Seungyoun steers the brigantine against the waves, turns the bow against the wind. The ship slows down, the mainsails go limp. When he's certain that she’s in irons, he takes a deep breath.
Lightning flashes again, and this time, it illuminates something in the water. Something strange, something that shimmers against the waves. At the same time, the storm's begun to recede; Seungyoun feels it in the way that the wind stops tugging at his hair, hears it in the way that the rain stops battering against the deck.
A face. Seungyoun swears that he saw a face, a body rising from the sea. It was gone in a heartbeat, sinking back under so gently that the water barely ripples in its wake.
"First mate."
Seungyoun smiles and bows a little, not at all serious, not at all formal. "Quartermaster." He doesn't look away from the helm.
Yohan nods back, adjusting his hat. "We've decided to change course. The ship needs to get to port."
It hasn't been long since they brought Yohan aboard. However, the man had earned the rest of the crew's respect shockingly fast, most of all captain Seungwoo himself. They haven't had a real quartermaster since Jinhyuk went ashore, with Seungyoun covering most of the duties on top of being Seungwoo's right hand. When Yohan joined them, he began to help Seungyoun with some of those duties. Eventually, they elected him onto the position permanently, and he has since played the role to the best of his ability.
Where Seungyoun and Yohan work well together, Seungwoo and Yohan got along famously almost as soon as Yohan stepped onto the ship. Yohan quickly became the captain's confidante, there to advise and counsel him at every turn. However, anyone can see that their relationship isn't purely professional. Seungyoun doesn't like to think about how much time they spend in the captain's quarters alone.
"Aye," Seungyoun says brightly. "When do we expect to get there by?"
"Two days? Maybe three?" Yohan looks up at the ratlines, where Hyeongjun's currently climbing up to the crow's nest. He leans close to Seungyoun, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "We reach the Pass tomorrow."
Those who live aboard are notoriously superstitious. It isn’t so surprising; after all, strange things happen at sea. Seungyoun is no exception. Everyone’s heard of the sirens that live at the Pass, beautiful human-like creatures with fishtails and voices sweet like honey. Some say they sing about a person’s fatal flaws. Others say they sing praises, sing for help, but one thing is clear; anyone who hears the siren’s song is compelled to come closer. Most drown, and others-- well, nobody knows, but they’re never seen again.
Seungyoun pauses for a second.
"I have a request," he says carefully. Seungwoo would kill him if he had asked this of him, but Yohan. Yohan might listen.
Yohan tips his head to one side. "What is it?"
"I want to hear the song."
Almost immediately, Yohan shakes his head.
"Youn, I know you have a penchant for doing stupid things, but--" Yohan shakes his head again. "As your captain, Seungwoo would forbid it. Hell, I forbid it. I have the authority."
"You can tie me to the mast, nail me to deck," Seungyoun blurts out. "Anything."
“Why, though?” Yohan says pensively, leaning against the railing. “It’s dangerous. You know it is. So why?”
Seungyoun lets out a long sigh.
“I don’t know.”
And for a moment, Yohan says nothing. Then, he huffs.
“It’s your call, first mate. You know the sea.”
“We’re not letting you go,” Hangyul says sternly. “We’re not untying you under any circumstances until we’re out of their reach.
Seungyoun nods, struggling against his bonds as a test. They barely give. Hangyul did a good job-- he would tell him so, but he knows that he wouldn’t hear him.
Everyone on the crew either has their ears plugged with beeswax, is currently hiding in their quarters, or both. The only people above deck are Hangyul, who has been charged with looking after Seungyoun, Dongpyo, who is on the helm, and Minhee, who just likes bothering Dongpyo when he’s on the helm. And, of course, Seungyoun is bound to the aft mast facing the stern.
The wind begins to pick up, stirring up the waves. As the Butterfly inches forward, it creaks and rocks a little. Stones trail behind the ship. They’ve reached the Pass.
And the sea does begin to sing. To Seungyoun’s surprise, it’s the same song, the song he hears every time he’s alone on the deck, every time he pricks his ears to listen. It grows louder and louder, but he’s certain that it’s the same one.
Seungyoun opens his mouth to say something but shuts it after Hangyul tightens his grip on his hands.
It’s a beautiful song, albeit a lonely one, a song sung in a language Seungyoun doesn’t understand and a vaguely familiar tune. They tell stories about sailors struggling in their bonds, begging to be set free, to be able to swim to the source of the sound, but Seungyoun stays eerily still on the mast, listening dumbfoundedly.
Then, he spots the something in the water again. And the singing comes to an abrupt halt.
It’s a person, a man. The man pokes his head out of the water almost shyly, revealing wide eyes so bright and shockingly gorgeous that Seungyoun feels compelled to get a closer look. But he still doesn’t move. When the person slinks back into the water, followed by a flash of glittering red, Seungyoun realizes with a shock that he has a smooth, streamlined tail instead of legs.
Seungyoun turns to Hangyul, but Hangyul shows no sign of having seen anything strange. He’s still staring at something far away, swaying a bit to the motion of the waves.
The beautiful merman-- the siren scrambles onto one of the rocks, exposing the oversized caudal fins sprouting out the end of his tail like a silken gown, scales glimmering in the afternoon sun. He watches Seungyoun just as intensely as Seungyoun stares at him, with rapt attention, wariness, and something like curiosity. For the first time since they reached the Pass, Seungyoun struggles, and Hangyul holds him tighter yet again. He lets out a frustrated cry.
And then the siren dives right back into the sea headfirst, disappearing beneath the waves. He leaves nothing but ripples in his wake.
“Hyung?”
With Dohyon staring at him with wide eyes, Seungyoun feels an inkling of guilt. He had promised the crew that he wouldn’t be affected by the song, that he wouldn’t end up like the sailors in the stories. And now here he is, trying to single-handedly lower a whaleboat into the sea so that he may go back to the Pass alone.
“Dohyonnie,” Seungyoun says, giving him a weak wave. “Hi.”
Without a word, Dohyon begins to help him, holding on to one side of the whaleboat and gesturing at him to hold the other. When the boat’s in the water, Seungyoun carefully steps into it, barely rocking it with his weight. For a moment, he looks behind him.
“I trust you,” Dohyon says quietly. Seungyoun nods and begins to row away.
“I’ll be back before sunup,” Seungyoun promises, hoping that this is one promise that he could keep. But, by this time, Dohyon’s already gone.
Unsurprisingly, the whaleboat travels much slower than the ship. Seungyoun rows with all his might, leaving gentle trails and tiny whirlpools in the water. Thankfully, the wind’s on his side, blowing against his back and pushing the whaleboat forward. At one point, when he looks behind him, the Butterfly has already begun to disappear, sails peeking out from the ocean mist. He continues to row in the direction of the setting sun.
It’s stupid. It’s dangerous. Seungwoo would strangle him. Yohan would delegate him to swabbing duty for the next year. Seungyoun doesn’t even know why he’s doing this-- is it because he still can’t believe his eyes and ears? Is he still being affected by the song, having been beseeched to come closer like all the sailors that were never seen again?
By the time the sun is just a sliver of light above the sea, casting deep, colorful shadows over the horizon, the rocks of the Pass come into view. He begins to hear the song again, a haunting melody in the distance, but makes no motion to shy away. The song grows louder as he approaches.
Seungyoun catches a glimpse of red scales on the rocks. He glances up.
The siren has his back turned towards him, lounging just below one of the cliffs and pensively watching something in the distance, chin tilted towards the sky. The iridescent scales on his tail glimmer even more brilliantly in the sunset, the sun’s dying light highlights gentle hints of red in his dark hair.
When he turns around and stops singing, Seungyoun briefly forgets how to breathe. The legends aren’t untrue. Even in the dimming light, he’s more beautiful than anything Seungyoun’s ever seen.
He appears to be startled by Seungyoun’s appearance, silhouette staying unsettlingly still. Then, he dives into the water. At first, Seungyoun wants to call out to him before he disappears again, tell him that he means no harm, but then he realizes that he’s actually swimming towards his whaleboat.
When the siren suddenly pops up next to him, splashing a bit of water into his boat, he jumps.
“We’ve met.”
He speaks just as smoothly and sonorously as he sings, with a pleasant lilt at the end of his words.
“H-have we?” Seungyoun replies, not at all gracefully. The siren blinks.
“Your other boat. The one with the big wings.” He flicks his head, gesturing towards the direction from where Seungyoun had come. “We’ve met.”
“Ah.” Seungyoun lowers his oar, allowing the boat to drift. “So you’re real.”
The siren blinks again. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know,” Seungyoun admits, scratching his head. “I guess I just. Thought I was seeing things.”
“Do you…have a name?” It seems like a silly question to ask, and by the way the siren chuckles at him, Seungyoun supposes that it was.
“Wooseok,” he said simply. “And you?”
Wooseok. It’s simple, has a nice ring to it. Much more familiar than Seungyoun would have expected.
“Seungyoun.” Seungyoun awkwardly holds his hand out, expecting Wooseok to shake it. Instead, he stares at it curiously before gently butting his head against it, leaning into his touch.
Once again, Seungyoun briefly forgets how to function. Despite having just been underwater, Wooseok’s hair doesn’t feel wet at all. It isn’t exactly dry either-- but it’s pleasant to the touch, almost paradoxically fluffy. Against his better judgement, he begins to run his fingers through. A few moments pass before he realizes that Wooseok is staring at him with judgement, and he immediately retracts his hand as if having touched a hot kettle.
“Seungyoun,” Wooseok says, sounding it out a little. Then, a thin smile reaches his lips. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Briefly, Seungyoun thinks back to all the times he’s heard singing in the ocean, all the times he’s seen flashes of red scales in the sea. It’s nice to finally meet you, too.
“But why?” He says out loud. “You’ve been following me. Why?”
Wooseok’s lips press into a line. Then, he suddenly surges forward, leaping into Seungyoun’s whaleboat. Seungyoun raises his arms, shielding himself from the barrage of seawater kicked up in the process. The boat rocks to the side for a moment, then settles down.
“Because you’re the ocean’s friend,” Wooseok says, resting his back against the gunwale. He’s sitting across from Seungyoun now, tail tucked underneath the stern seat and thwart. To Seungyoun, it doesn’t look at all like a comfortable position, but then again, Seungyoun has legs .
Wooseok offers no further explanation as to what he means by ocean’s friend, instead continuing to stare out at sea. A few moments pass before he turns around to face Seungyoun again.
“Will you be my friend, too?”
Not knowing how else to respond, Seungyoun agrees. Wooseok smiles widely and leaps back into the water.
When Seungyoun finally begins to row away, it’s still far before sunup. The moon’s still high in the sky, reflected by the sea over the horizon. However, it takes a while to row back to the ship; by the time he gets back, twilight has already begun to peek over the sky. Despite having plenty of experience and practice, his arms begin to grow sore, and they’re downright aching by the time he sees the Butterfly’s sails again.
He’s surprised to see that Dohyon is still on watch. Dohyon spots him first, already perched at the end of the stern. He helps Seungyoun onto the ship. Together, they lift the whaleboat back onto the deck.
“Where did you go?” Dohyon whispers fiercely. “What were you doing?”
“It wasn’t anything important,” Seungyoun assures him, shaking water off his hands. “Thanks for covering for me, kiddo.”
Dohyon stands still, a horrified expression on his face. “Uh.”
“I’d like to know too, first mate.” Seungyoun freezes. It’s hard to not recognize Seungwoo’s smooth voice. The question is, when did he even get here?
Seungyoun turns around slowly. Seungwoo’s expression is unreadable, but he has his arms crossed over his chest, one foot tapping repeatedly on the deck with heeled boots.
“Captain! Hi!”
Seungwoo nods in the direction of the bow. “Meet me in my quarters.”
Well. Someone’s in trouble. Seungwoo walks away, and as he follows, Seungyoun spots Dohyon giving him an apologetic glance from the stern. He shoots him a peace sign in response.
Seungwoo's quarters is the largest room onboard, but it's quite humble for that of a captain. There's a bed in the corner of the room, a desk and chair set in the middle, and a ceremonial scimitar hanging from one of the walls. He decorates simply, having none of Seungyoun's expensive tastes or Hangyul's penchant for collecting seemingly useless trinkets.
With a deep sigh, Seungwoo sits down behind his desk. There’s a naval chart spread out on top of it, held in place by his dagger.
“What were you thinking, Cho Seungyoun?”
To Seungyoun’s horror, Seungwoo’s voice isn’t at all angry. It feels like he’s being reprimanded by a disappointed father-- which he kinda is.
“Captain, I--”
“Did you go back to the Pass?”
Seungyoun closes his eyes, staying silent.
“Did you go back to the Pass, Seungyoun?” Seungwoo repeats gently, leaning closer.
Seungyoun lets out a breath. “Aye, sir.”
“Why?”
Seungwoo rests his chin on his fingers, and before Seungyoun could muster up a proper response, he continues.
“You do know how dangerous it is, right?”
Even by sailor standards, Seungwoo is superstitious. He’s been this way for as long as Seungyoun has known him. It’s not for no reason. With all his time spent aboard his childhood as a cabin boy, all the years he’s served in the navy from ordinary seaman to lieutenant, he’s definitely seen some shit. He’s told Seungyoun stories, though Seungyoun’s always had a sneaking suspicion that he doesn’t know it all.
“Aye, sir,” Seungyoun says again, head lowered to the deck.
For a long time, both of them stay quiet. Seungwoo taps his fingers against the naval desk. The rhythm is regular, almost maddeningly against the silence. Seungyoun lets his eyes wander, observing the markings on the chart. the dagger is stuck in the spot that marks the Pass.
“Did you meet a siren?” Seungwoo asks suddenly, breaking the silence.
When Seungyoun nods mutely, Seungwoo leans closer yet again, listening intently.
“He’s not dangerous, sir. I think…” Seungyoun hesitates for a moment. “I think he just wanted a friend.”
“Don’t we all,” Seungwoo replies with a wry smile.
Seungwoo stands up and stretches. “Well. As long as you know what you’re doing, first mate. Dismissed.”
It went smoothly, Seungyoun thinks, surprisingly so. Seungwoo hadn’t even seemed disappointed-- he was just curious . It’s a strange look on him, weathered and jaded seafarer he is.
Seungyoun doesn’t get much sleep. When he wakes up in the morning, the sun’s barely past the first yard of the mizzenmast, going about its journey languidly in the skies. Not having been woken up for a watch, he immediately makes a beeline for the bow of the ship.
Hyeongjun’s there, too, staring at something in the distance. Seungyoun takes a spot next to him, leaning on the gunwale.
There’s a flash of red scales in the water again. Seungyoun looks over at Hyeongjun, but like Hangyul at the Pass, the younger shows no sign of having seen it.
“Hyeongjunnie,” Seungyoun ventures carefully, “do you believe in mermaids?”
Hyeongjun stares at him for a moment, frowning. “All of a sudden?”
Seungyoun shrugs. “I guess I’m just curious.”
“I mean,” Hyeongjun frowns, scrunching his face as he thinks. It’s very cute. The entire crew probably agrees that everything he does is cute. He’s Hyeongjun. “I don’t see why not. We’ve seen some very big squids. There are fish the size of ships.”
“Whales aren’t fish, Hyeongjunnie.”
Hyeongjun throws up his hands. “Whatever! The point is, there are weirder things out there. A magical fish person isn’t too far-fetched.”
“Mm.”
Seungyoun faces the front again. By now, Wooseok’s long gone. The ocean begins to sing again.
The second time Seungyoun rows out by himself, he doesn’t have to travel so far. He finds Wooseok waiting for him just a couple of miles off the Butterfly’s port side, floating leisurely on his back in the middle of the open sea.
“Seungyoun.” Wooseok practically sings his name out, and it echoes hauntingly into the night. Seungyoun sinks one side of his oar into the water, pushing forward and effectively stopping the boat. Then, Wooseok swims closer, lashing his tail to keep afloat. Seungyoun could see a distorted image of his bare torso in the water. He tries to not stare, but the siren’s skin is milky, pale, flawless. It’s strange. One would think that spending so much time in seawater would seriously dry you out.
“You came to see me again.” He tips his head to the side. “I didn’t know if you would.”
Seungyoun hums. “And you followed my ship.”
“Where else would I go?”
There’s a sort of deep sadness in Wooseok’s voice. For some reason, it chills Seungyoun to the bone.
“Are you...alone?”
Wooseok affirms this with a small noise. He props himself up on the whaleboat’s freeboard, causing the boat to turn over just a bit. Seungyoun shifts back to balance him out.
“I wasn’t always,” Wooseok continues after a few beats. “They went to land. That’s why there aren’t many of us left.” After saying this, he begins to laugh. It’s cold, bitter, not at all pleasant.
“But I know you’re not alone. It must be nice.” At this point, Wooseok flips himself into the boat again, and they rock in the water for a bit while he makes himself comfortable. “I don’t ever see myself going to land. Mortality sounds frightening.”
Seungyoun has no shortage of questions to ask him, and Wooseok has questions too-- it’s been a while since he’s talked to a human, he says. They either don’t trust him or want to capture him like an animal. He learns that when mermaids choose to grow legs, they give up immortality, and in most cases, give up the ocean. However, they still do it for a multitude of reasons, whether it’s out of love, boredom, curiosity, or all three. Meanwhile, Wooseok learns that shallowater krakens have largely gone extinct, so humans have begun to settle on the coasts again.
“My friends can’t see you, can’t hear you,” Seungyoun asks him suddenly, after a short stretch of silence. “Why is that?”
Wooseok blinks. “Because I want you to see me.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to be your friend.” Wooseok’s picking at his fingers, and this is when Seungyoun realizes that he’s nervous . It’s kinda cute.
They talk through the night, and by the time light reaches the sky again, Seungyoun’s almost completely forgotten about his commitment to being back on the ship by sunup.
After two nights of noticing whaleboat oars missing from the dock, Yohan grows suspicious, so he begins to take the sunset watch with Seungyoun. This is when Seungyoun realizes that Seungwoo never told him anything.
So, Seungyoun hopes that Wooseok won’t feel too sad when he doesn’t row off to visit him later, but something tells him that he’ll understand. Instead, he dutifully takes his watch on the crow’s nest, keeping one eye on a very restless Yohan wandering around the ship and another on the calm sea.
Sometime through the night, Seungyoun begins to doze off. He’s startled awake when a drop of rain hits his nose. He shakes himself off, standing up straight and trying his best to pay attention to what’s ahead.
It’s from quite a distance, but Wooseok’s scales flash in the water again. From just beyond, he spots the top of a tall palm tree beyond the clouds.
“Land ho!” He shouts to the rest of the ship, filling his lungs with as much air as possible. “Land ho, crew! We’ve reached port!”
They’ve landed in a small shipbuilding town nestled within a natural harbor. They dock their ship within, handing off a large pile of gold coins and a barrel of rum over to a local carpenter to cover the repair costs.
Dongpyo’s ecstatic to touch land again, practically kissing the ground beneath his feet. Minhee laughs and drags him along. Meanwhile, Junho staggers off the plank, arms slung over Eunsang’s shoulders. Yohan helps a very seasick Hyeongjun off the ship, and Dohyon clings to Seungwoo’s side as he steps down. None of them are close to getting their land legs back.
There’s a telltale flash of red in the sea, and Seungyoun narrows his eyes. So Wooseok followed them here, too.
“You okay, Youn?”
Seungyoun blinks. Hangyul’s waving a hand in front of his face.
“Never been better,” he assures him. “How long has it been?”
“Too long.” Hangyul lifts his chin towards the direction of the town. “They have an inn here. How about you and I finally get something good to drink, first mate?”
So they do just that. The rum here is alright, but they don’t stay for long-- for some reason, none of them ever remember how terrible Hangyul’s tolerance is for a pirate, getting red-faced after just a couple of drinks, so Seungyoun drags him over to one of the inn rooms Yohan bought for all of them, all while dodging many suspicious stains on the floorboards.
“Hi, Dohyon,” Seungyoun huffs. Hangyul is decidedly not a light person to carry, which makes his pitiful alcohol capacity even more puzzling. “Mind taking care of him?”
Dohyon squints at him. “And where are you going? Do I have to cover for your ass again?”
“Bye, Dohyonnie!”
After dumping Hangyul onto one of the beds, Seungyoun immediately peaces out and heads towards the sea. There are torches lighting his way along an unfamiliar cobblestone path.
He doesn’t know where he’s going, isn’t quite sure where the path leads, but he’s lead to an empty dock on the beach, one that stretches all the way out into deep water. There, who should be waiting for him but Wooseok, arms resting on the dock and fingers tapping on the wood.
He feels a twinge of guilt knowing how he’d left the siren hanging the other night, but Wooseok doesn’t look angry or disappointed. Just bored, like he’s been here for a while.
“Hey,” Seungyoun says, sitting down cross-legged in front of him. “How’s land?”
Wooseok scowls. “Boring. It’s not like I can get out of the water.”
It might be the alcohol, but Seungyoun laughs so hard that he can barely feel his lungs.
“The ink on your skin. The palm trees.”
“Oh,” Seungyoun turns his arm around, rolling up his tunic sleeve. “Yeah. My tattoo. I didn’t think you’d notice.”
Wooseok does that thing where he tips his head to the side again. God. Why must be always be so cute? “Is it to remind you of land?”
Seungyoun hesitates, taken aback.
“I’ve...never thought about it like that, to be honest,” he says. “But I think that’s right. I’ve always liked palm trees. They’re the first tree you see when you’ve reached the coast.”
Wooseok beams at that, slightly raising himself out of the water. “It’s pretty.”
Somehow, Seungyoun doesn’t think he should be the one hearing this. The flickering torch flames, the incandescent moonlight, all of it serves to light Wooseok’s face in a way that makes him look...Well, pretty is an understatement.
Dammit. Seungyoun shouldn’t have gone to the inn with Hangyul. He’s caught the man’s piss-poor alcohol tolerance.
“Thanks,” Seungyoun says, also beaming. Suddenly, he has an idea, and he stands up.
“Wait right here, Wooseok. I think you’ll like this.”
He leaves a confused Wooseok in the water, though it’s just for a few minutes. When he returns, he’s holding a lute in his hands. Contraband, but brand new.
“It’s a lute,” he tells Wooseok, grinning. “I stole it from the inn.”
Wooseok glances at it with a fascinated but still confused expression on his face. “What does it do?”
“It makes music! Listen!”
Seungyoun begins to play, and as soon as the first note leaves the instrument, Wooseok’s face practically lights up in delight. In an attempt to impress him, Seungyoun plays the tune he often hears from Wooseok.
“It’s beautiful,” Wooseok says in awe. “It’s like a voice. But it’s not.”
Beautiful, Seungyoun thinks. Now that’s a word.
The music echoes through the night. Seungyoun grins widely as the tune he plays reaches a crescendo. At some point, Wooseok begins to sing along, and his haunting song becomes a harrowing duet. At the same time, it stops sounding so lonely.
And it's strange, how time becomes fluid when they're together. Again, Seungyoun thinks about how it may just be the rum but somehow, he doubts it. They sing and laugh and talk through the night, and Seungyoun doesn’t leave Wooseok’s side until light almost reaches the sky.