Chapter Text
Captain Kim Hongjoong, appropriately dubbed the sea dragon of the east, always considered himself to be a man of exquisite taste.
He dined on the finest of wines, donned himself in the most luxurious of satins and leathers, and had amassed himself what he considered to be the most eye-catching collection of gems and treasures owned by a pirate in his corner of the world. Of course, none of these things were ethically obtained, but anyone who had the gall to point this out to him would be brushed them off with a simple “nothing in this world is.”
So, naturally, it came as no surprise to anyone that was remotely acquainted with his picky palate when his attention was all but enthralled by a foreign prince with a smile that glowed with pearly white teeth and enough gold jewelry adorning his body to be sold and feed a small village for a whole year.
It was at the docks of the tropical mainland that Hongjoong first set his sights on Park Seonghwa.
“Name?”
“Ah, that would be Lee Jihoon. I believe my esteemed crew and I are down as one of the crowned prince’s guests? For the coronation, I'm sure you’re aware.”
The clerk delivered Hongjoong with a flat look, chubby fingers rifling through the pages of his registry, the appendages marred with paper cuts from what must be a busy day of work for him.
“Painfully,” He then turned his narrowed gaze to the ship behind Hongjoong, her canons looming menacingly. “And why, Mr. Lee, is a warship your vessel of choice to a peaceful ceremony?”
“Oh, you mustn’t get the wrong idea!” Hongjoong swooned, the back of his hand smacking his forehead woefully. “It’s just— the journey is so far and with all the talk of,” he shivered, “pirates in the area lately, well, it’s embarrassing to admit but I’ve never been one to defend myself. You see, it’s only for—“
He was cut off with a sharp kick to the shin.
“For safety reasons.” His first mate, Jeong Yunho, affirmed smoothly as if he wasn’t now standing on a quietly sobbing Hongjoong’s foot. The captain hadn’t even heard the taller’s approach, which was quite unlike how he typically lumbered about.
The clerk seemed even more unimpressed with Hongjoong's theatrics but had found the mercy in him to at least level Yunho with a slightly less suspicious look. “Well, I see no Lee Jihoon on the list of expected arrivals, so you will have to take this issue up with...“
Hongjoong tuned the man out, becoming quickly disinterested in such matters and leaving it to Yunho to solve their little bind. Instead, he surveyed the harbor they had stationed in, taking in the sight of the capital city for the first time in years. Never would he have dreamt of returning here unless promised all the gold in the kingdom. Who would’ve thought he actually would be?
Speaking of gold, a particular ship caught his eye only two rows down from his. The hull was lined in a golden paint that gleamed in the midday sunlight, and the royal family’s crest waved happily down at him on the flag while rippling in the salty breeze, almost inviting him to divulge his fantasies into what it may carry. Certainly something of value, which was enough to pique a simple pirate like Hongjoong’s curiosity.
He needn’t wait with bated breath for an answer, though, as a gangway was lowered from the main deck. A gaggle of sailors and servants flooded from the ship, all preparing a path. Hongjoong’s face twisted into a grin as guards emerged next. royalty.
Behind the stone-faced guard with a bowl cut and a strong build, a figure whose emerald satin clad body was ornamented with glimmering jewelry and golden accents much like the ship he departed from, talked animatedly with the guard to his right. They were all handsome, devastatingly so in fact, but Hongjoong’s heart seized at the sight of the assumed nobility (or more particularly, the wealth radiating off his very being).
There was a lapse in the royal’s conversation, one that sanctioned the time to absorb his surroundings. Just as Hongjoong was musing over how charming he looked watching fondly as a seagull paddled around in the water below, their gazes locked.
It was fleeting, but Hongjoong swore he saw the ghosts of an amused smile pull on his lips before he returned his attention ahead.
“This rum tastes like shit.”
Hongjoong and his crew sat crowded around a table in the darkest corner of the dingiest pub they could find. They gathered for some hard-earned drinks after a full day of supply runs, ship maintenance, and to discuss the events of the next day, which would hopefully promise them a little more luxury than what they were currently dealt with.
“Well, Wooyoungie, why don’t you take that up with your dear captain. If he weren’t such a dramatic arse I wouldn’t have had to bribe half a fortune away on that clerk just to let us dock.”
Hongjoong hummed succinctly to Yunho's remark, swishing the rum in his tankard around with disinterest. It really did taste like shit. “Patience, my dear children. By tomorrow night we will be feasting with kings.”
“Yeah,” Mingi, the gunman, spoke out with a furrowed brow. A hand ran through his red locks, only knocking them more askew, which was saying a lot for him. “About that. Don’t you think your plan is a little too… underdeveloped?”
“Aren’t they always?” San drawled, having been with Hongjoong second to longest, only behind Yunho and ever the truth-teller.
“And we haven’t been arrested yet!” Hongjoong concluded with satisfaction, giving the quartermaster a clap on the shoulder and making a mental note to steal him something pretty before they set sail again.
Yunho sighed, taking a long swig of his rum like his life depended on it, shit tasting or not. That made Hongjoong feel a little bad. Only a little, just because he didn’t want his friend’s taste buds to suffer. “Do I even have to explain the meaning of the word ‘yet’?”
“Ah, a problem for future us’s.” Hongjoong gave a winning smile. “Certainly not.”
“Relax, Hyung.” Wooyoung addressed Yunho after turning from the waitress who he had somehow managed to charm another tankard of rum out of completely free of charge. He handed the drink to Yunho, predicting that the one he was finishing off would most likely not be his last. Seriously, was Hongjoong the only one who valued what liquids he put in his body? “Sannie and I can put on enough of a show to give you the whole evening to find the vault and haul ass, right?”
San, who was occupied with staring daggers at the shadily acquired rum passed between Wooyoung and Yunho, stirred at the sound of his own name. “Oh-- well, of course,” he smiled wanly before a more grounded twinkle of mischief shone in his eyes. “If you’ve got the flint?”
“I don’t even want to know what kind of distraction you heathens are planning, but try not to make it too criminal.” Hongjoong sniffed, sounding a little glum himself at the idea of having to tone down the theatrics for the sake of success. Just went to show how serious he was about this one. “We won’t have time to come bust you out if they throw you in jail. Did you see the armada they’ve got out in the harbor?” He wrinkled his nose. “Our poor Aurora wouldn’t last ten seconds against those freaks of nature.”
Mingi’s eyes glimmered at the mention of the fleet of warships that had welcomed them to the city ever so amicably. Perhaps a concerning reaction if Hongjoong did not know that the truth of the matter was that the younger had never really left behind his fascination with ships and their inner workings as the son of a shipwright. He immediately launched into an explanation of what wood he suspected they’d used to construct the vessels with, the level of interest among the crew varying but listening nonetheless.
Hongjoong spared a glance out of the window to his right. Through the haphazardly placed buildings and zig-zagging roads characteristic of the capital city, he could see clearly the gates of the royal palace perched atop the cleft the city was built around. Silhouetted in the moonlight, his target’s grand exterior with its gaudy golden gates and arching fountains delivered the pirate with a jolt of that thrill he had become well acquainted with at this point in his career.
At this time tomorrow, he’d be bathing in riches and would perhaps, if he was lucky, even catch a glimpse of that pretty stranger in green and gold.
He smiled.
By the time the coronation had come to an end and the crowned prince had been officially declared king much to the cheers and hollers of his people, Hongjoong was sure he’d procured multiple grays and wasted away a little in that crowded church. The undercover work was always the dullest, but he and his crewmates needed to establish themselves if they genuinely wanted to sneak into the party later on without suspicion. Laying the groundwork was vital.
Fortunately, that was something Wooyoung excelled at.
In the time that it had taken for the most important people in the kingdom to congregate and be seated before the ceremony began, Wooyoung had already beguiled a member of the royal court’s council of advisors. When meeting with Hongjoong and San after the function hanging off the arm of a middle-aged man who looked more than pleased with himself, he had simply mouthed “go big or go home” before being swept back up in the pompous interactions of the upper class.
Truthfully, they only needed an in with one of the guards, but if Wooyoung could fuck over some rich people while he was at it Hongjoong had no complaints.
San huffed beside him, causing the captain to roll his eyes to the heavens. He preferred to ignore the little… love affair going on between the two, but they seemed to be exceptional at making that task difficult for him. He nudged the quartermaster, urging him to get going and keep Wooyoung in their sights.
The royal parade proceeded directly after. While the king and his family would wind their way up the main road to greet the common folk with brief celebration and raise some patriotism or whatever it was they hoped to achieve, Yunho and Mingi would sneakily remove the aurora from her position in the harbor. Amidst all the commotion, they’d be able to slide into the cleft of which the palace was built atop of and maneuver themselves into a perfect heist-able position completely undetected. From then out, the rest was left to the remaining three on land to get the job done.
Hongjoong had full confidence they could pull this off with ease, though. Wooyoung remained glued to the side of the councilman’s side right up until the proceeds of the party had passed through the palace gates, laughing shrilly at all of his jokes and smothering the man with lingering gazes and suggestive touches that would ultimately amount to nothing.
“I deserve at least a 10% raise in our winnings tonight.” The blonde hissed as he let Hongjoong and San in through what would be revealed to be the kitchen door meer minutes after slipping away from the party. “I almost gagged at that fucker’s perfume alone, lord, don’t even get me started on his shitty sense of humor. I’m still nauseous.”
San seemed to be over his jealousy in a flash, immediately looking over Wooyoung to assess the damages done while he was away. Hongjoong, trying not to be sickened over the lovesick display, scoped out the room warily, his boots clicking against the marble floors.
“How on earth did you manage to clear out this place? Isn’t there supposed to be a bunch of servants in here making the food and shit?” He ventured, crouching to look under the tables as if someone might be tucked away under there.
Wooyoung shrugged, gesturing vaguely to the scorch marks on one of the stovetops across the room. “I started a fire.”
Oh, right. How silly of him to ask.
“Well then let’s get outta here before the brigade shows up and finds no fire and our headasses standing around.” San contended. They hummed in agreement, not planning on getting caught so early in the operation.
Through an arched doorway and into a hallway, the muffled sound of a party was followed until the walls opened up to reveal a magnificent main hall. The ceiling was imposingly tall with mere glass cloaking the illustrious room from the sky above, and Hongjoong could faintly identify the constellations that so regularly guided him on his journeys. A band played atop the landing connecting the double staircase, the very railings lined in gold. The royal family’s crest was advertised in every direction one looked; flags, decorations, and even a grand painting of all the rulers the nation had ever known. A sheet covered one portion, most likely to reveal the new king’s likeness at the climax of the night. Hongjoong wondered how much it would sell for.
“Eyes on the prize, Hongjoongie.” San sing-songed from his left, picking up on his train of thought.
Hongjoong tsked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, of course not.” The quartermaster snorted. “They just call you the dragon of the east for fun, not at all because you’re a raging kleptomaniac.”
“Glad we’re on the same page. Now shoo,” Hongjoong made shooing motions with his hands. “I can’t concentrate on pickpocketing the bourgeoisie with you two following me around.”
San and Wooyoung delivered him with mock salutes, the latter using the wrong arm. Hongjoong refrained from commenting.
“Sure thing, boss!” Wooyoung said. “10:30, right?”
“10:30.” The captain agreed before turning from the duo who quickly dispersed into the crowd and rounding on the task at hand.
There was still an hour until showtime in which Hongjoong needed to comb through the palace and locate the royal treasury. Once the location was secured, he would give Wooyoung and San the signal and they would set off whatever distraction they had concocted this time around, effectively drawing the attention of the guards from the treasury and to the ruckus. In this window of time, the three would sneak off to the vaults, load themselves up with all the treasure they could carry, and then escape to the balcony overlooking the cleft where their ship sat waiting patiently below. Lower themselves down and drop the treasure into the waiting arms of Mingi and Yunho and they were home free.
Underdeveloped you say? Naturally. Hongjoong always liked to do things on the risky side, if only to give him more satisfaction when he (astoundingly) managed to succeed. A pirate was only truly worth their salt if they could pull off the most preposterous of undertakings and come out richer than they were before, as he always said.
Listening to the rousing cadences of the music being played by the band and watching as gorgeous party-goers sipped on the most exquisite wines, Hongjoong was tempted to cave for a moment and retire to the dance floor. However, with no clue what the layout of the palace entailed, he would need all the time he could get to locate the vaults without being spotted. He started off in the direction of one of the halls leading further into the royal residence with purpose, figuring it was as good of a place to start as any.
It was easier to slip past the guards than he expected, and his standards weren’t particularly high. It seemed that with years of peace and one of the strongest armies in the world, the nation had lost its touch which was one less thing for Hongjoong to worry about.
“Cocky bastards.” He chuckled.
The pirate roamed the deserted part of the castle with ease for the better part of an hour before he came across anything that would lead him in the right direction-- if the palace looked big from the outside, it was colossal on the inside. He had hardly encountered a single guard as the party went on in the distance, most of their forces focused there for security, and when he stumbled across a seemingly unsuspecting door that had two guards stationed before it, Hongjoong knew he’d found his destination.
There would only be guards if there was something to protect. He smiled, retreating back to the party while thumbing the pistol strapped to his thigh and tucked underneath his vermillion velvet cloak.
When he entered the main hall again, the music had shifted to more of a waltz than the ostentatious melodies from when he left. The clock read 10:18, to Hongjoong’s delight. He had just enough time to enjoy himself a little. He delicately plucked a glass of champagne from the tray of a caterer, humming to the music merrily.
He was nearly to the yet-to-be-revealed painting, hoping to get a peek of the king’s portrait when a figure collided with his front. Hongjoong stumbled, his drink slipping from his hand and connecting with the floor with a shatter. Not even getting a single sip, the pirate rounded on whoever had caused such a tragedy to give them a piece of his mind but stopped in his tracks.
“By the stars, I’m so sorry.“ The man from the harbor apologized frantically, brow furrowed in distress as he took in the sight of Hongjoong’s drink now lying in a pool of glass on the marble floor. He opened his mouth to say more when he looked up and finally met his eyes.
Hongjoong’s eyebrows lifted at the pause, a smirk twitching at his lips. “No worries.”
“You’re the one from the harbor. I saw you— docking at the same time as me.” The stranger confessed unabashedly. His lips were tinted a soft red. Hongjoong thought it contrasted nicely with his black robes that swished with his movement.
“That would be me. I have to say I’m flattered that you’d remember me.” Hongjoong replied. “Here I was thinking it was a one time chance encounter. No need for an apology when you’ve just made it two.”
The man gave him a studying look as if attempting to gauge his intentions. After a moment of testing eye contact, he seemed to have come to a conclusion. He bowed politely.
“Park Seonghwa. Cousin of the king on his mother’s side and heir to the throne of Versovaa.” Seonghwa introduced. Hongjoong returned the bow, a little deeper at hearing his status and perhaps with more of a flourish than necessary. Seonghwa seemed to take no offense, though.
A prince? The gods were practically handing the riches to him on a silver platter.
“Lee Jihoon. My apologies— I can’t say I’m too familiar with the kingdom. I drift around more eastward, I’m afraid.” Only a partial lie. Hongjoong had stopped through a few of its colonies en route to one of his many escapades, but he definitely couldn’t recite the nation’s history books if prompted. He knew it was small yet prosperous, a sister nation to his own but much less militaristic than Hongjoong’s homeland.
Seonghwa chuckled. “Well, I would hate to imagine your first impression of it being its crown prince spilling your drink.”
“Alas, it’s too late. Give me the rest of the night and rumors will be running rampant of your maladroit.” Hongjoong replied whimsically.
“I’ll anticipate it.” The prince responded, pausing to lick his lips and giving Hongjoong the briefest of once overs. “But if you would allow me, I’d like to try my hand at changing that.”
“Your highness, so forward!” Hongjoong said, placing a scandalized hand over his metaphorical pearls.
“It’s the least I can do for spilling your drink. I could not offer my whole night-- I feel that would be too forward. A dance, though, could perhaps be persuaded?”
Hongjoong glanced at the clock. 10:23. He flashed a dazzling smile. “It could.”
“Excellent. Yeosang?” At Seonghwa’s request, the handsome guard from earlier all but materialized beside his master. If he hadn’t had a sword sheathed at his side, Hongjoong wouldn’t have been able to pick him out from the guests, he was that elegant in both dress and appearance. “Could you and Jongho fetch someone to clear up this mess? I’ll be dancing so there’s no need to follow.”
“Your highness,” Yeosang’s voice was deep considering his delicate features. He met eyes with Hongjoong, expression full of distrust. “Are you sure you would not like one of us to accompany you?”
“I am,” Seonghwa assured. His tone was calm, but there was a hint of finality to it that caused his guard to relent dutifully. “No need to worry. I’m simply repaying a debt.”
Remaining quiet and despite Seonghwa’s words, Yeosang leveled Hongjoong with one last skeptical stare before bowing and leaving their side.
“I don’t think your guard likes me too much.”
“Ah-- Yeosang is always like that with new people,” Seonghwa said. Hongjoong noted a fondness in his voice. “He’s my guard, yes, but he’s also the most loyal friend I could ask for. Same with Jongho, the other who accompanied me here. I apologize for him, though. He means no harm.”
If he knew who Hongjoong really was he highly doubted that would remain true.
“Regardless, let us dance. I’ll warn you, I’m one of the best in my homeland.” The prince held out his hand which Hongjoong took. He noted the way that slender and delicate fingers folded over calloused and short ones.
Hongjoong’s eyebrows rose. “Your homeland is small though, no? I’ve danced with all sorts-- you may find yourself a little outmatched.”
Seonghwa’s hand settled on his lower back, steady as he guided them to the dance floor. He pulled Hongjoong closer and began to move. “All sorts? Is drifting in the east a venture I should take up myself if only to ever amount to your skill?”
“If you ever could.” Hongjoong chuckled. “I doubt you’d go about it the same manner as I have.”
“Oh? A mysterious past?” Seonghwa replied, amused yet eyes unable to mask the sparkle of curiosity that caught in the candlelight. He twirled Hongjoong, not continuing until they were yet again chest to chest. “I did not know I was dancing with such an enigmatic man, you’ve got me interested now Mr. Lee. Are you some rugged adventurer?”
“Of sorts.” The pirate shrugged.
Before Seonghwa could continue, the pace of the dance quickened. With the two of them now focused entirely on keeping step, the tension between them flowed into and took hold of their dancing. Every touch, every locked gaze, every moment apart to only be breached by pressing right back into the other’s warmth pushed Hongjoong further and further into the depths of those swirling gray eyes. They were like smoke, captivating and fluid in the same way that Seonghwa’s movements were. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a good dancer.
“Keeping your mysteries a mystery, I see,” Seonghwa observed in a lull of the music. He dipped Hongjoong abruptly, their faces mere inches apart. “They say to tell a lie, and if it is kept a secret the truth can be heard. I wonder what lies you might have told me tonight?”
Hongjoong’s heart faltered for a beat. He quickly set his expression back into a practiced look of ease, however, his mind still reeled. If Seonghwa had somehow figured him out, he would’ve said something already. Perhaps he had been a little careless with the hints he’d dropped, and he cursed himself for getting caught up in a pretty face and witty banter.
Brown eyes darted to the clock. 10:29.
“Would you keep them?” He all but whispered.
Seonghwa blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. His mouth seemed to move before his brain completely did. “I would.”
Hongjoong then thrust himself off of him with a burst of strength. Standing square and whipping out his pistol to aim to the ceiling in a flourish, he watched as the prince stumbled and his eyes widened. “Good to hear, your highness.”
He pulled the trigger. The glass ceiling above him shattered. The hall broke out in screams and shouts. Amidst the confusion and pandemonium, Hongjoong darted for the hall leading further into the palace, trusting the rest to San and Wooyoung. Before he could make it, though, a shrill piercing sound rang through the room quickly followed by an explosion that sent him flying from the blast.
A dull ringing in his ears and already scrambling back to his feet, Hongjoong turned to locate the source. He squinted at the sight of the streaks of colors careening in every which direction, hurdling into the crowd of nobles all now scrambling for escape. He even spotted the king on his throne desperately trying to put out a small fire on his (frankly, gaudy) cloak.
Of course those fuckers would set off fireworks indoors.
“Hyung!” Speak of the devil and he will arrive. Wooyoung barreled into his line of sight, covered in a considerable amount of soot most definitely because of his proximity to the launch site of their little distraction. “You can look at the pretty lights later, we’ve gotta get the fuck outta here!”
Hongjoong was about to agree when he faltered. He counted one less nuisance. “Where the hell is San?!”
“Getting that dumbass painting you were ogling, he’s gonna meet us at the balcony.” Wooyoung huffed, seeming exasperated with the other’s actions. “Said it’s your birthday present.”
Guards rushed past them from where they were headed. They didn’t even notice the two, too busy trying to understand why things were on fire and the party had practically turned into a stampede to the exit.
Hongjoong’s brows furrowed. “My birthday was five months ago.”
“Yeah, and he said it was the thought that counts. Let's move.”
Hongjoong didn’t have time to try and decipher his crewmate’s nonsensical (yet considerate, he’d admit) actions. He nodded and beckoned Wooyoung to follow him back down the route he had been down less than half an hour ago.
In no time they had reached the double doors, now completely abandoned. Hongjoong neglected even considering checking the handles, pulling out his pistol and aiming a shot point-blank to the padlock. It broke with a bang and he busted the doors open with a sharp kick. A spiral staircase was revealed, dimly lit with torches lining the walls.
“They really should work on how well they hide their wealth,” Wooyoung observed, marveling at how easy it was for them to get this far.
“Cocky bastards.” Hongjoong echoed his words from earlier with a scoff before descending the stairs.
His body practically hummed with anticipation as they continued lower and lower, imagining all the gorgeous jewels they were getting closer and closer to holding in their hands. Hongjoong wondered what kind of stories they held, what kind of royalty they had once graced the bodies of. He mused vainly if he’d look better in it than them.
The staircase leveled out and revealed a surprisingly small chamber. Inside were countless chests, all labeled with amounts of money even a thief like Hongjoong had never seen in one room, and glass cases containing glimmering necklaces, earrings, crowns, rings, and about a hundred more trinkets that had Hongjoong practically foaming at the mouth to get his hands on.
“Gross, you’re making your I-get-off-on-shiny-rocks face again.” Wooyoung sniffed before moving to the nearest chest and throwing open the lid just to get a peek at all the gold.
“Last I checked you were a pirate too, Woo.” Hongjoong reminded him, characteristically making his way to the case in the center of the room. He held out a hand in a silent request, the other not needing an order to toss him the dagger he had tucked in his boot. The captain caught it with ease, scooting his hand up the hilt and securing his grip before slamming the butt of the blade into the glass and effectively shattering it. “It’s basically in the job description.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re all kleptos so stop targeting you about it. I know.” Wooyoung waved a hand, the other sliding across the top of the mound of gold as if to check if it was real. He must have confirmed it because the next second he was busying himself with pulling the empty sacks from his coat and filling them.
“Tell me, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong said after a few minutes, some more dubious smashing of glass, and two sacks full of gold later. “Do these necklaces make me look tacky? Be honest.”
Turning his attention back to his captain, Wooyoung was met with the sight of the most feared pirate in the east sea practically twinkling with all the jewelry he had on. Layers upon layers of intricate necklaces and bracelets decorated his fair neck and dainty wrists. At some point, he’d abandoned his cloak in favor of dusting off a luscious, leopard print fur coat. To finish the look off, a crown sat crookedly on top of his head.
“You always look tacky,” Hongjoong pouted. “--Now you’re just a tacky guy in a crown.”
At that same moment, footsteps echoed down the stairs, by the sound of them the owner was swiftly approaching. Neither reacted, already knowing who it was. Soldier’s footfalls were much heavier and carried almost no tact.
“Nice crown, Hyung!” San chirped as he all but exploded into the room, panting heavily. He held a frame in his hands that was practically twice his size. Hongjoong wanted to question how in the world he’d managed to lug that thing around with him but promptly cut himself short when San flipped the painting around. “Check it out.”
...
“Holy shit!” Wooyoung howled. “They totally fucked up the king’s nose!”
Hongjoong’s nose wrinkled as he took a step forward, tapping his chin as he got a good look at the canvas. It was more than fucked up, he mentally bemoaned, it was a monstrosity. The king was much more handsome than whoever this deformed clone depicted was, and that was just an objective statement. The original wasn’t to Hongjoong’s tastes-- but at least he looked like himself.
“Don’t tell me we did him a favor taking this abomination.” He muttered glumly. “Will it even sell? It’s horrendous!”
“Relax,” San set it down and joined Wooyoung in filling the sacks with gold. “Mingi can paint, right? He can just, like… fix it.”
Hongjoong groaned in devastation. The gunman would have to do a hell of a nice job covering his additions if they didn’t want their broker’s sharp eyes to catch it.
“Pout later, Hyung. You’ve played dress-up so now let’s just hurry up before we get caught.” Wooyoung clipped. Reluctantly, Hongjoong did as he was told. To any outsider, it was baffling as to what had happened to land him in the captain’s position.
With all three of them looting, their sacks and pockets were overflowing with all the treasure they could carry in minutes. Wooyoung and San had picked out some jewelry for themselves (and to Hongjoong’s disgust-- each other) and they were on their way. Hongjoong poked his head out of the door and into the hall, finding it just as empty as they had left it. Signaling to the others that it was safe, they set a course for the rendezvous point with a skip in their step. It was almost too easy.
It wasn’t until Wooyoung had lowered the rope down to their ship below and begun to descend that Hongjoong realized it was too easy. They should’ve encountered at least one person along their way-- in fact, it made no sense at all that they hadn’t. Even amongst all the chaos, someone should’ve had the mind to check the vaults.
“Hey, isn--”
The unmistakable blunt surface of the barrel of a gun pressed to his temple.
“I’m guessing your name wasn’t the only lie you told me.” Park Seonghwa hummed into his ear, so close Hongjoong could practically feel the low vibrations of his voice. One of those sturdy hands that had been holding his own less than an hour before now wrapped itself around his torso and held him in place. Hongjoong hadn’t realized it earlier, but Seonghwa was much stronger than his slender frame gave away.
San whipped around, swearing loudly when he took in his captain’s unfortunate position. “Hongjoong--”
“it’s alright,” Hongjoong said. “Keep going. I’ve just gotta wrap things up with his majesty here.”
San looked ready to protest. His eyebrows were drawn tight and he wrung his hands like he was restraining himself from burying one of his knives square between Seonghwa’s eyebrows. Hongjoong gave him a rare, stern look. One that told him he was confident he’d be right behind him when he could.
The quartermaster nodded, face contorting to a soldier-esque type of unrelenting obedience. This was what made Hongjoong a good captain; they laid their trust entirely in him and he in them, and if someone was certain of a decision it was only fair that they at least heard them out, trusting one another’s judgment in a way that could only be fortified by living through countless life or death situations.
San gave him one last look before scooping up his loot, taking hold of the rope, and disappearing below the ledge of the balcony.
“Hongjoong? Why does that name sound so familiar?” Oh, right. There was a gun to his head, wasn’t there?
“Not to brag or anything, but I’m a little famous where I’m from.” Hongjoong divulged, his smug grin palpable in his tone as if he wasn’t seconds away from a bullet making its home in his brain. “They call me a dragon if you’d believe it.”
“The dragon of the east… captain Kim Hongjoong of The Aurora.” Seonghwa mused in marginal wonder, the prince’s arm slacking in the slightest as he suddenly barked out a short laugh. “With all the rumors, I thought you’d be a little taller.”
Hongjoong grunted. “Asshole.”
“Please, don’t you think you should be a little nicer to me?”
“Why, because you’ve got a gun to my head or because you’re royalty? ‘Cause I got some news for you about just how much I respect your type of people that you might not like.”
“No, because I kept your lie.”
Hongjoong scoffed, straining against the hold the other had on him. Seonghwa was as sturdy as a rock, unrelenting to his attempts. He didn’t believe him. “That’s treason, you know. Now, why the hell would you do that for lil’ old me?”
Seonghwa didn’t respond, instead removing the gun from Hongjoong’s temple. Before he could react, Hongjoong found himself being spun and pushed towards the balcony. The ledge dug into the small of his back sharply causing him to wince.
Shouts were heard down the hall, muffled yet approaching at a rapid pace. No doubt they brought handcuffs just for Hongjoong with them.
Seonghwa pressed close to him, even closer than they had been on the dance floor. Sharp and lidded gray eyes examined his face, the ghosts of a smile tugging at the corner of his plump lips. The cool barrel pressed yet again to Hongjoong’s skin, tilting his chin upwards lightly until Hongjoong met his eyes.
His breath fanned against the pirate’s cheeks as he spoke. “Call it… taking initiative.”
The footsteps were even closer, now. Hongjoong recognized the voice of Yeosang and who must have been Seonghwa’s other guard, Jongho, both calling out their master’s name.
Seonghwa’s finger settled on the trigger as if he couldn’t hear them at all. Hongjoong braced for impact, thoughts vaguely landing on his crew who were all gathered on his ship below. He wished he could have drunk with them one last time, maybe taken a final inhale of the salty ocean air from The Aurora’s helm.
The prince then threw Hongjoong for a loop. He pointed the pistol to the sky and pulled the trigger. However, instead of smoke billowing out of the weapon in the aftershock of the bullet exiting the barrel, there was nothing save for a resounding bang.
“A blank?” Hongjoong bemused.
He refrained from commenting, instead hoisting Hongjoong even further over the ledge. “I sincerely hope you can swim.”
Then he shoved Hongjoong hard.
The world moved in slow motion. Hongjoong saw the forms of Yeosang and Jongho round the corner, heard their shouts, but before he could gauge their reactions he was plummeting down, down, down. The blood roared in his ears as he fell, the cliff whipping past him faster and faster as he gained momentum. The last thing Hongjoong saw before his body broke the bone-chilling surface of the waves was park Seonghwa, leaned over the railing to watch an escape that he had taken part of.
“Seonghwa, holy fuck, are you alright?!” Jongho crashed into his side and gripped his arm like a lifeline.
Seonghwa turned from the ledge and entered the palace yet again, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He patted the younger affectionately and leaned against the wall. Now that the adrenaline had begun to fade, he was left with a soreness that stretched to his core and the urge to collapse in a heap and just sleep on the stone floor for a few decades. It had been a long day.
“I am now.”
A hand struck his head sharply. Seonghwa looked up and met eyes with a rather displeased Yeosang.
“We heard a gunshot.”
Seonghwa frowned. It was a simple statement, honestly, but the way Yeosang’s expression shifted as he said the words as if the fear was still running its course through him was telling enough. His heart ached with guilt. He couldn’t tell them he’d let the pirates go-- at least not now when they would likely be interviewed by the king’s guards. He’d keep them from being accessories to his own crimes for as long as he could trust that they would not be harmed.
He pulled him into a hug. They sat for a moment, Seonghwa allowing Yeosang to feel his presence and assure himself that he was there, and he hadn’t been the one shot before he beckoned Jongho in as well. He could tell the younger was just as frazzled. Seonghwa ran his hands through both of their hair-- a rare but necessary moment of skinship between them that he was more than happy to divulge.
“I took care of it. I’m safe.”
Hongjoong awoke to his throat burning. It was a sudden, searing pain that caused him to jolt upwards and claw at his neck. He tried to cry out in pain but it came out as a pathetic croak.
“Hey, hey, hey,” a hand settled against his own, pulling them back down into his lap. Yunho gave him a soft smile and held out a much-needed glass of water. “Drink, then we’ll talk.”
Hongjoong took the water, downing it like it was the last he’d ever get. As he drank he took in his surroundings, feeling much more grounded as he realized he was in the captain’s cabin of his ship. The Aurora's familiar creaks and groans were music to his ears, along with the steady rocking of the boat as the waves lapped against her sides. Sensing the bed shift beside him, Hongjoong turned to see Wooyoung curled up under the covers beside him sound asleep. Mingi, he noticed, was in a similar position beside Yunho. He must have been awake at some point but had fell victim to fatigue, head now settled on Yunho's shoulder as he dozed.
“San’s out at the helm,” Yunho said softly, picking up on the exact moment Hongjoong noticed his absence. “Said he couldn’t sleep... He was pretty freaked out when you fell; thought when he dove into the water he’d be bringing back a body. We all did.”
Hongjoong’s brows furrowed as he began to collect his memories, slowly peacing them together. Seonghwa. The blank. His words right before he’d pushed Hongjoong off the balcony and into the water.
“Initiative…” he mumbled, voice coming out strained.
“What?”
“Initiative,” the captain repeated with more conviction. “That’s what he said to me when I asked why he didn’t rat me out. What the hell does that mean?”
Yunho frowned. “The guy who tried to kill you?”
Hongjoong shook his head. “He didn’t try to kill me. It was a blank the whole time, that’s why you heard gunfire. He... He covered for me? He acted like he took care of me so we wouldn’t be followed.”
“Did you… did you know him from somewhere?” The first mate searched.
“Not other than when I met him that night.” Hongjoong rasped, running a hand through his curly black locks. “What could he have meant by initiative?”
Yunho chewed his lip in thought. He was silent for a moment. Instead of answering the question, he prompted, “Whose side do you think he’s on?”
A damn good question if Hongjoong had ever heard one.