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Seonghwa isn’t coming back.
Hongjoong comes to the conclusion when he wakes up that morning, exactly a month after he sent his right hand man on a special mission that was supposed to last a week.
He’s not coming back. He wouldn’t leave them in the dark for so long.
Seonghwa is dead.
🦋
It was supposed to be a simple mission, one he’s done dozens of times before during his time in the Aurora ’s crew. He was supposed to infiltrate their enemy’s ship as a fugitive fresh out of prison milling around the harbor, steal their valuables without getting caught, sneak out of the crew when they get back to land a couple of days later and rejoin Hongjoong’s ship. Quick and simple. A matter of a week at most. Seonghwa is an expert, has been doing this little trick for years now, bringing back treasures and maps and expensive foods for the Aurora with every “trip”, as he calls them.
On the night he said he’d meet them at the port, Hongjoong waited, and waited, until the sun rose again over the horizon, until his eyes burned from lack of sleep, until the decks started bustling with activity once again. He scanned the harbor for hours on end before Yeosang gently brought him back on the ship and led him to his cabin, where he instantly collapsed onto his bed, falling asleep from exhaustion. When he woke up many hours later, not feeling rested in the slightest, it was to the sway of the ship through the waves and the sounds of his crew milling around the deck. They had taken off without Seonghwa.
Now, he knows why his crew did that at the time. They couldn’t stay anchored for too long. He wasn’t truly scared of anyone, and they’d fought their way through worse than a couple of angry marines or some resentful pirate they might’ve wronged months ago; Hongjoong simply didn’t like taking unnecessary risks. Fighting people on land was a big waste of their time and energy, so when they got down for supplies or to pick up Seonghwa after missions, they never stayed for more than a day. The sea was their true home, anyway.
And yet.
Hongjoong doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt that angry since he started roaming the seas with his crew. He barged out of his cabin, screaming profanities at the boys, telling them that they should be ashamed of themselves for abandoning their crewmate in such a way, that they didn’t deserve to be part of this crew, that it was all a mistake. He broke some stuff, put some new indents in the Aurora ’s rails. He was furious, but most of all, he was hurt. Hurt that they would ever consider leaving the docks as seven instead of eight.
He’s not sure how long he unleashed his anger on the ship, but once he got every last drop of it out, he broke down completely, falling to his knees in the middle of the deck and letting himself cry and scream, barely registering the gentle hands that patted his back, carded through his hair or laid a jacket over his shoulders when night started falling.
The realization crashed into him like a wave on that day. He loved Seonghwa; not the familial, brotherly kind of love he held for the rest of his crew. The kind of love that made his insides burn and thrash around whenever Seonghwa was around and made him feel empty and lost when he wasn’t. The older’s presence was not a want, it was a need, from deep inside him.
It took him some time to come back to his senses, and when he did, it was with the worst feeling of shame and guilt he had ever felt in his life. He had no good reason, but most importantly no right to explode at his men like that, especially not to question their loyalty to him and to Seonghwa. He hated to be vulnerable in front of his crew in the first place. He also hated that it took him so long to realize his feelings for Seonghwa, and that his disappearance was the trigger for it. The irony was like a punch to the gut.
They’ve been coming back to the docks once every few days since that day, dispersing themselves in all the pubs they know around town to see if anyone has heard from Seonghwa. They only get sympathizing looks or mocking laughter when they ask. No one has seen him.
🦋
The sun has just finished rising over the horizon when Hongjoong exits his cabin. If his crewmates notice the dark circles under his eyes or how red and swollen they look, they don’t mention it. They’ve probably grown used to them anyway.
They mill around the deck like every other day, Yunho and Mingi tending to the sails, Yeosang destroying Wooyoung at some card game they probably made up on the spot, San organizing his apothecary and Jongho munching on his breakfast up in the crow’s nest. The wind isn’t too strong yet that early in the morning, so they float slowly forward, the waves softly breaking on the hull of the Aurora .
Hongjoong slowly climbs up to the upper deck, standing beside the helm, examining the map laid out on the table in front of him with all the attention he can muster. It’s accurate but incomplete. They’ve already explored all there was to explore on the west coast, and they’ve been wanting to wander to the east for a while. That’s why Seonghwa left in the first place; the crew he infiltrated had intricate maps to navigate these new waters.
He sighs, heart twisting. Stupid maps. If he’d known they would cost him his right hand man, he would’ve drawn new ones himself.
The morning passes by slowly, the sun warm on Hongjoong’s skin, yet doing nothing to ease the cold in his heart and in his mind. He looks at the maps without seeing them, no matter how hard he tries to focus. All he can think of is that Seonghwa is dead. His right hand man, the person he trusts and loves the most in this world, is dead. It’s morbid, but thinking him dead is easier than not knowing where he is or what is happening to him. Better to expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised, right?
They sail calmly through the morning, and the afternoon rolls in just as smoothly, the winds still not too strong. The crew stays on the lower deck, none of them climbing up to talk to him, which he is grateful for. He’s not sure he could hold a conversation with any of them without letting them know how defeated he feels.
He’s getting lost in thought, eyes trailing off to a random spot on the railing in front of the hull, when someone calls for him.
“Captain!” Hongjoong lifts his head to the crow’s nest at the sound of Jongho’s voice. “Shipwreck at two o’clock!”
He follows Jongho’s hand to see where he is pointing at, and sure enough, his eyes are met with devastation.
He honestly doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it sooner. Dark smoke rises from the wreckage in massive clouds, swirling in the wind in a frantic dance. Fires are still lit on the bigger pieces of the ship, lighting up through the smoke. He can barely make out the form of what seemingly used to be a big merchant ship behind the thick wall of fog. Stray planks, burned strips of sails and the ship’s flag float in their direction in a somber march.
It’s impossible to truly get used to such a sight.
Hongjoong redirects them so they pass closer to the scene and climbs down to the lower deck to stand beside Mingi behind the rails, scanning the waters for anything of value or any sign of life.
It’s not the first time they’ve seen shipwrecks like this. They’re the cause of many of them, actually. Whenever they cross one, Hongjoong is always reluctant to take survivors on board, no matter how much he hates himself for it. The crew of the Aurora is well known across the seas, and he can never know if the dying men in the water are actually assassins in disguise. They’ve been tricked before, when he was still a young captain just starting to lead his men, and Yunho almost lost his life. The bastard regretted ever trying to harm any of Hongjoong’s men, but since then, he concluded that he can never be too careful when it comes to his crew.
So when he first sees the seemingly lifeless figure on the piece of wood floating towards them, he doesn’t think much of it. He’s fully ready to let it pass with the rest of the ship, until the man comes close enough for Hongjoong to see his traits, and for a moment he freezes.
It can’t be.
But the more he watches the man, the more he recognizes him. The distinct slope of his nose, the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips, the line of his jaw, prominent with the angle his head is resting on on the wood keeping him afloat. It’s when he sees the man’s forearm, adorned with the Aurora crew’s butterfly tattoo, that he snaps out of his surprise.
It’s really him.
“Get the ropes,” he tells Mingi, standing at his side, also looking out at the shipwreck. “I said get the ropes!” he yells, distressed, when the tall man turns to him with a confused look on his face. Mingi quickly obliges, hollering at Yunho and Jongho across the deck for help.
Hongjoong’s heart is beating furiously in his ribs as he watches his men tie the ropes to the guardrails of the ship, lowering themselves slowly towards the water to avoid getting cut on the seashells littering its hull. While he waits, biting at his bottom lip and wringing his hands, a small voice at the back of Hongjoong’s mind tells him that maybe he imagined it all, that maybe his yearning and his pain had made up the image he wanted to see in his mind. He’s so scared of being wrong, but he’s somehow also terrified of being right. Terrified of bringing the lifeless body of the man he loves onto his ship.
Hongjoong instantly knows when his crew has reached the man in the water from their cries, soft with disbelief at first but quickly growing restless, ranging from Mingi’s simple fuck to Jongho’s half coherent screaming for San, their crew’s healer, to come help them. Suddenly, the deck is bustling with motion; San frantically gathers his healing kit with Yeosang’s help, Wooyoung rushes to help Yunho and Mingi to pull the man up on board, and Hongjoong just stands and watches, feeling like he might burst from the anxiety of waiting, of wondering . Though his crewmates’ reactions confirm the man’s identity, they weren’t telling on his state, and he expects the worst. He’s so fucking scared, and every pull Wooyoung gives on the ropes feel like he’s tightening them around his throat, making it hard to breathe.
He lets out a whimper when they lay the man’s body on the deck, his soaked clothes quickly creating a wet halo all around him, turning the wood darker. He walks over, hands trembling, as San fumbles for supplies. His legs finally give out from under him when he reaches his crew, his knees hitting the deck harshly.
His skin is ashen, his face more hollow than it used to be, and there are burns all over his body, but it’s him.
“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong whispers, cradling his cheek delicately, afraid he might break, or disappear if he moves too fast. It doesn’t feel real. He’d lost hope to see him again on that very morning. It seems fate is determined to prove him wrong.
Hongjoong startles when Seonghwa coughs, brows furrowing in pain. San quickly turns him to the side, letting all the water exit his lungs. Hongjoong rubs soothing circles on his back, throat constricting when he feels every single one of his ribs as he moves his hand. He’s gotten so thin. What did they do to him on that ship?
The dark ring around Seonghwa grows with each of his coughs. Eventually, they calm down, leaving him shaking, breathing ragged and throat scraped raw. He reaches forward blindly, eyes screwed shut in pain, and clutches to San’s hand firmly when he finds it.
“Seonghwa, can you hear me?” the healer asks, his free hand holding Seonghwa’s shoulder to keep him on his side.
He only gets a groan in response, but his hand twitches in San’s hold. “Is that a yes?” San prompts again, and when he gets another groan and a stronger squeeze to his fingers, the entire crew sighs in relief.
“Bring him to his room,” San starts, gesturing to Mingi and Jongho, “I’ll have to take a look at his wounds-”
“Bring him to mine,” Hongjoong cuts him, not taking his eyes off Seonghwa’s bloodied body. “It’s closer.”
San looks at him then, his eyes flashing with surprise for an instant before returning to his usual focused healer mode. “You’re right. Yeosangie, fetch me some clean water and some food for when he’s patched up.”
The strongest of their crew take Seonghwa up in their arms, making him cry out and clutch at them, chest heaving. The trip is quick, considering that Hongjoong’s cabin is right under the upper deck. They lay him down on Hongjoong’s bed softly, moving his limbs as little as possible. Seonghwa groans as his body hits the sheets, and Hongjoong’s heart catches in his throat. He looks so delicate, at the brink of falling apart, so different from the Seonghwa he knows.
There’s too much movement in the cabin for him to keep up, and next thing he knows Mingi and Jongho are leaving to give San more room to work. Hongjoong bites at his lip anxiously as he watches their healer unpack his supplies, barely registers Yeonsang coming in and dropping a jug of water and some food on the desk beside him. When San cuts open Seonghwa’s shirt, he remembers that it was white when he left the Aurora ; blood from the many cuts and burns littering his chest have darkened it to an almost burgundy color. He represses a whimper and breathes slowly through his nose. What in the world could Seonghwa have done to be this hurt?
He paces anxiously for about a minute before San calls out to him.
“Joong, I need you to give me some space right now. You’re too agitated, and I can’t focus properly with you around.”
“But-”
“Captain.” San’s voice is uncharacteristically serious, so much that Hongjoong stops in his motion. “Please. I’ll take care of him.”
“I know that, Sannie.” Of course he knows. How could he not, when he’s saved their lives more times than they can count? “It’s just…”
“I know.” San turns and gives him a small smile, just enough to show his dimples, and somehow Hongjoong is convinced that his healer has him all figured out. “He’ll be fine. I’ll come get you when he’s well enough to talk.”
Hongjoong gives a tight nod and, with a last look at Seonghwa, he exits his cabin. He leans on the closed door, letting his head fall back with a small thump. He feels strange, relief and fear and confusion mixing in his chest and pressing onto his lungs.
It takes him a moment to realize that the rest of the crew had been waiting outside the cabin. Five pairs of eyes are fixed on him, different levels of worry on each of his crewmates’ faces.
“How are you feeling, Joong?” Mingi asks.
Hongjoong only shrugs, tugging himself from the door and walking slowly to the stairs to the upper deck. The boys follow, exchanging worried looks they probably think are very subtle but are painfully obvious, though Hongjoong is too out of it to care. He lets himself fall onto the third stair and sighs softly.
“He’ll be fine, Captain,” Yeosang says. “He’s in good hands.”
Hongjoong nods mindlessly, eyes unfocused and brain foggy. He knows Seonghwa will make it, he trusts San’s expertise. He has to. It’s just… a lot.
“We’ll tend to the ship, ok?” Yunho says with a small smile. When Hongjoong gives another tight nod, he starts directing the others to their tasks. They don’t have much left to do, considering that the sun is going to start setting soon. Hongjoong watches his crew disperse on the deck, talking in hushed whispers as they prepare the Aurora for the night. The familiarity of the sight brings a semblance of calm to the captain; the simple acts remind him of how much he cares for his crew, and how much they care about him. He’s truly grateful for the family they’ve built over the years.
He startles when he hears someone plop down beside him on the stairs. Wooyoung wears his usual shit-eating grin, though it’s tinted with worry. He places a bottle of amber liquid in Hongjoong’s hand.
“Don’t drink all of it,” he warns him, “but I thought it might help you relax a little bit. I’m pretty sure you haven’t stopped shaking since we pulled Seonghwa up, Captain.”
As if to prove his point, Hongjoong finally hears the faint clinking sound of his sleeve cuffs on the rhum bottle, swayed by the uncontrollable shaking of his hands. Wooyoung snorts at his shocked gasp and reaches over to take the cork out of the bottle. “I can come pick it up in a little while if you don’t trust yourself.”
Hongjoong feels tears prickle his eyes. Even though the proposition could come off as teasing or mean, Wooyoung’s voice is incredibly fond, and he knows it’s the younger’s way of caring for him, as is Yunho leading the others to their tasks or Mingi draping a coat on his shoulders as he climbs down the stairs after tucking the maps away.
“Thanks, Wooyoung,” he mutters, taking a gulp from the bottle. The alcohol burns his throat, and he welcomes it, letting it settle in his system and wake him up from his daze. He turns to the younger with a small smile. “Thank you. All of you.” He sighs, rubbing at his face. “I’m sorry I’m so useless right now. I haven’t been myself for a month already. This is not how a good captain should be acting.”
Wooyoung shakes his head. “Nonsense. You still took care of us despite everything, it’s only natural that we’re doing the same for you. We’re all shaken up by what happened today, with reason.” He wraps an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulders, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “We’re taking care of everything for now, ok? We’ll prepare the ship while San heals Hwa and you take a moment to breathe. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
Hongjoong rests his forehead on Wooyoung's shoulder. “I’ll try. Thank you again.”
He feels Wooyoung smile against his hair. “It’s no big deal, Captain.” He flicks at the neck of the rhum bottle in his lap. “I’ll come take this back before I go below deck for the night, ok? Just to make sure you’re fine.”
Hongjoong sees the rest of the afternoon and the evening pass in slow motion. The shadows on the deck rise and fall as the sun dips lower and lower over the ocean until it disappears under the waves, leaving the sky in a dark blue hue, stars starting to paint its blank canvas. The crew goes below deck one by one, not before coming to give him a pat on the back or to ruffle his hair. As promised, Wooyoung plucks the bottle from his hand with a small grin and sends him a thumbs up when he sees that it’s still more than three quarters full. He’s the last one to go down, leaving Hongjoong with the lit oil lamps and the stars as company.
It’s only then that San finally exits Hongjoong’s cabin, shoulders sagging lightly in exhaustion. Hongjoong hurriedly stands from the stair he had been sitting on, walking down the last few ones to meet San. Judging from the calm expression on the healer’s face, Seonghwa is ok, but he can’t help the hammering of his heart in his ribcage as he asks, wringing his hands.
“How is he?”
“He’s fine for now. He properly woke up a couple minutes ago after I finished bandaging his wounds. I’ll have to check up on him to make sure none of them get infected, but otherwise this is not the worst state I’ve seen him in.” He sighs. “He won’t tell me what happened. I tried to ask him, but he closed himself off almost instantly. You’re probably the only one he’ll talk to.”
Hongjoong walks over to San and engulfs him into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispers into his neck, holding him a little tighter.
He hears San huff a laugh. “Of course, Captain.” They part, and San brings a hand to Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Be nice to him, ok? He’s still recovering. We don’t want to rush him.”
Hongjoong gives a small nod. San squeezes his shoulder before walking off, his soft steps growing quieter as he pads across the deck. Hongjoong hopes he’s going straight to sleep when he gets down; he deserves it after tending to Seonghwa for so long.
His throat gets tight when he rests his hand on the door to his cabin. He’s not sure what he’s getting into, what Seonghwa will be willing to tell him or if he’ll like what he’ll hear. He takes in a long, shaky breath, and pushes the door open with a low creak. A lit oil lamp on his bedside table is the only light in the room, bringing a dim, yellow glow to the walls. Seonghwa is on the bed, tucked under the covers, a clean shirt hanging on his now thin frame. His arms are wrapped in bandages, and Hongjoong can already see blood seeping through in certain areas. His breath catches in his throat when he sees Seonghwa’s eyes on him, glinting against the flame of the lamp. There’s a cut across his forehead and on his cheek, the kind that will definitely leave scars, but Hongjoong as never seen him more beautiful, laying there, alive , in his bed.
“Seonghwa,” he says, his voice way too loud in the silence of the cabin as he closes the door behind himself.
His right hand man gives a small smile. “Captain,” he answers.
Hongjoong walks over and lets himself fall into the chair San left beside the bed. “It’s really you,” he whispers, bringing a hand to Seonghwa’s cheek oh so delicately, not wanting to hurt him further but needing the contact, needing to feel him under his palm to remind himself that this is real .
Seonghwa gives a shaky exhale. “It’s me, Joong,” he whispers back, leaning into Hongjoong’s hold with a small wince. “I’m really here.”
Hongjoong knows that he has to ask him where he was, what happened on the ship and how he ended up adrift, but he can’t bring himself to utter another word, not yet. For now, he simply holds Seonghwa, tracing light circles across his cheek and cherishing every single breath that the older man takes. Cherishing the fact that Seonghwa is here .
He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Seonghwa lifts his hand to his face, wiping the first tear away before he lets his arm fall back on the bed with a groan. Hongjoong sniffles with a small laugh, wrapping Seonghwa’s hand in his own and drawing soft circles on the bruised skin.
“Sorry about that,” he says, wiping at his own face with his sleeve quickly. “Here goes my stoic captain persona, I guess.”
Seonghwa snorts. “Don’t act like I’ve never seen you cry, Joong. I’ve known you long enough to know you’re nothing but a sap.” Hongjoong giggles, resisting the urge to swat at Seonghwa’s shoulder. “Besides,” the older adds, “I’d say it’s pretty justified.” His face falls a little.
Hongjoong feels more tears slide down his cheeks, but he lets them be. Instead, he squeezes Seonghwa’s hand, softly to make sure it doesn’t hurt him. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Seonghwa gives an almost sheepish smile as he feebly returns the squeeze. “You almost did.”
The exhaustion of the past few weeks, his worry for Seonghwa, the fear of bringing his dead body back on the ship, the shock and relief of seeing him again, everything comes crashing into Hongjoong all at once, and he breaks.
Heavy sobs shake his entire body, and he buries his face in the sheets, holding onto Seonghwa’s hand in a tight grip as he lets the tears overtake him. He cries, and cries, letting all the bottled up pain leave his body in harsh waves, uncontrollable and wild.
“Oh, Hongjoong,” he hears Seonghwa say over his head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t leave,” Hongjoong whispers in between sobs. “Please don’t leave me again, Hwa.”
Seonghwa’s fingers are soft as they thread through his hair. “I won’t leave you, Joong,” he whispers back. “I promise. I’m here.”
It takes an awfully long time and every last drop of self-control in his body for Hongjoong to lift his head from the now wet sheets. He leans back on his chair, eyes on the ceiling, and breathes deeply. Four seconds in, six seconds out. His hand doesn’t leave Seonghwa’s wrist.
The room is so silent aside from his breathing that he’s afraid Seonghwa might’ve fallen asleep, but when he sets his gaze forward again, Seonghwa’s eyes are planted on him, cheeks slightly flushed. The wound on his forehead is jarring against his ashen skin.
“Heavens, Seonghwa. What happened to you?”
He gets no answer, but Seonghwa’s eyes leave his face and settle on the hand lying on his lap. Hongjoong frowns.
“What happened?” he repeats, throat scraped raw from crying.
To his surprise, Seonghwa’s face twists into an almost shameful expression before he starts talking. “They didn’t trust me and I didn’t notice. I thought I had them fooled, like all the ones before them, but their captain was smarter than most. He had one of his men keep an eye on me, but I only realized when it was too late. I was so confident that I got careless. When I went into the storage room on the last night to steal their maps, they were already there, waiting for me.” He swallows thickly, not meeting Hongjoong’s eyes. “They threw me in the dungeons below deck for some time. I lost count after eight days. They still brought me water and food once in a while, but you know how hot and heavy it gets in there. I grew sick, a little delirious, I’m not really sure, and I just had to get out , no matter what that meant. I-”
He breaks into a fit of coughs. Hongjoong quickly passes him the water jug, and he takes long gulps before handing it back. He still won’t meet Hongjoong’s gaze. “I still had some of the magical explosives we traded with that witch a couple of months ago hidden in my necklace.” He gives a small chuckle. “I’m lucky they didn’t take it when they locked me up. When they came to swap my bowls, I lit the powder and put it in them. They barely managed to get on the upper deck before everything blew up.”
Hongjoong gasps softly. “That’s so dangerous, Hwa. You could’ve died .” The simple thought of never having his right hand man at his side has him shiver and tighten his grip on Seonghwa’s wrist.
“I didn’t care about that,” the other continues. “It was my only chance at getting out other than having them trade me off at a slave market somewhere. I wasn’t in my right mind anyway. For the last few days, I couldn’t think about anything other than the fact that I didn’t manage to steal the maps. I had failed my mission, failed the crew… Failed you .” His voice cracks at the end of his sentence, his eyes resolutely fixed on his free hand. “I was so angry at myself, I thought, why not? I had to try something. It didn’t matter if I made it out of there alive or not. Even if I did, I couldn’t come back here. I didn’t deserve to come back here after failing so miserably. I still don’t.” There are tears gathering at his eyeline, but he blinks to will them away, tilting his head back to meet the headboard behind him.
The declaration hits Hongjoong like a boulder. “You have to be kidding me,” he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. When Seonghwa stays silent, he raises his voice, tone disbelieving. “You can’t be serious, Hwa. How could you ever think that you don’t deserve your place on this ship? The Aurora needs you, you know that. All the guys need you around.” His eyes are boring holes into Seonghwa’s profile, as his face is still turned away from him. He takes in a shaky breath. “ I need you here, Hwa,” he says, with such emotion in his voice that he surprises himself. He rarely lets himself be vulnerable in front of his crew. He needs to be strong to lead them through all the hardships they’ve been facing for the past years. But, as with most things, it’s different when it comes to Seonghwa.
His right hand man closes his eyes, letting the tears he had been holding back streak slowly down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he croaks out. “I just… I felt so stupid , Joong. Like an amateur.”
“That doesn’t matter. Nothing can make you unworthy of the crew. You’re one of us, for the better and the worse. This is what you swore to all those years ago. You know that.”
Seonghwa shakes his head, eyes still closed, as if ready to protest, and Hongjoong frowns. “Look at me,” he asks softly. When his right hand man keeps his eyes resolutely shut, Hongjoong takes his captain voice, firmer. “Seonghwa. Look at me.”
With obvious reluctance, Seonghwa turns towards Hongjoong, forcing his eyes open, lip caught between his teeth.
“As long as I live, you’ll always have a place on this ship. You can bring us the most expensive treasures in the seven seas or flunk every single one of your missions, I don’t care. I swear on my life that you will always be worthy of the Aurora , and that you will always be welcome here. Got it?”
Seonghwa releases his lip and draws in a shaky breath. “Why?” he asks, and Hongjoong feels his heart twist with the genuine confusion in his voice. “If I’m of no use to the crew, if I can’t carry out my missions, why would you keep me?”
“This isn’t about you being useful or not, Seonghwa, I…” He trails off, swallowing hard, Seonghwa’s gaze heavy on him. “I love you.” He hears the other man’s breath hitch, but he keeps talking. “Not just as a member of my crew. Not even as my right hand man. You… You mean so much more to me, Hwa, I can’t even begin to put it into words. Every day that passed without hearing from you was torture . Not knowing what happened to you, whether you were still on that ship or off on land somewhere or lying at the bottom of the ocean with a canonball tied to your ankle. I was so scared, and I felt so lost. I’m lost without you, Seonghwa. I can’t be captain without you by my side. I can’t be myself without you.”
As he speaks, he traces along the lines of the tattoo on Seonghwa’s forearm, miraculously completely free of wounds or even scratches. Hongjoong designed it himself, many years back when he first became captain of the Aurora . He never told his crew the true meaning of the drawing, not even after carefully inking it on all eight of their arms to celebrate their first year at sea together. The meaning he gave them isn’t false; he said it symbolized freedom and hope, that it represented their journey through the seas as they flew away from their past lives. Yeosang had called him a cheesy bastard when he told them, to which Hongjoong had to agree, because the true reason is even more sentimental than this. No, to Hongjoong, the butterfly represents the beginning of all things, because it represents Seonghwa.
Seonghwa, the first man to join Hongjoong’s crew, who believed that he could give them a new, better life at sea, who trusted that he would lead them well and care for them. The emblem of the Aurora’s crew is the same butterfly that flew right between them when they met for the very first time on the docks, in the bustling crowd, catching both their eyes and interrupting their conversation for a moment before it flew away into the sky. That butterfly, and Seonghwa, mark the start of everything good that ever happened to him.
When Hongjoong looks up, he sees fresh tears on Seonghwa’s cheeks, his mouth hanging open in what looks like disbelief, with a flicker of something else that he wills himself not to read into. His own face is wet too, but he can’t bother to wipe it away. “I love you, Park Seonghwa,” he whispers, his voice shaking more than ever before in his life. “I don’t care that the maps burned along with the ship, or that you might never bring us anything ever again. You’re so, so much more important than any treasure. So much more precious.”
“Hongjoong…” Seonghwa starts but never continues, shaking his head. They stare at each other for excruciatingly long moments, Hongjoong too nervous to say anything else and Seonghwa clearly at a loss for words. After what feels like decades, to Hongjoong’s complete surprise, Seonghwa giggles.
Hongjoong has missed the sound terribly in the past month, but it’s so out of the blue that he frowns, his eyebrows furrowing even further when the giggles turn into actual fits of laughter, seemingly uncontrollable. Seonghwa laughs heartily while Hongjoong feels himself deflating with each passing second. This is definitely not where he expected his confession to go.
Seonghwa’s shoulders shake with laughter and he winces, trying to calm himself down and breathing deeply. Hongjoong sits there in disbelief, still holding firmly to Seonghwa’s hand, his only reminder that he’s not dreaming everything, that his right hand man is laughing his ass off after he confessed his undying love for him.
Hongjoong wants to get angry, to tease back, to say something, but he’s rooted to his chair, mouth hanging slightly open in shock. Finally, finally , Seonghwa’s laughter calms down, and after two deep breaths, he turns to him and smiles, all teeth, with happiness written all over his face.
“I can’t believe that all this time I was convinced I had no chance.”
“W- what?” Hongjoong stutters. He can’t mean-
“I love you too, Joong. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since the very day you picked me from the docks and took me into your crew.”
Holy shit.
“Why?”
He wants to take the question back the second it leaves his mouth, but he can’t help it. He’s delighted that Seonghwa does share his feelings, he’d be a fool not to be, but he can’t help but wonder how he fell in love with the lanky boy he was then, barely an adult and not knowing what the fuck he was doing.
Seonghwa smiles fondly at him, and he shakes his head lightly. “Did you not see yourself? So young and eager to explore the seas, so scared but so intent on not showing it and staying strong for us, gathering your crew of helpless kids and giving them a home when you were a helpless kid yourself, giving us hope that there was something for us out there, all that with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen in this world. How could I not have fallen for you?”
Oh.
“Seonghwa…”
“Yes, my captain?”
The title makes his heart flip in chest. Seonghwa rarely uses it, only when they get very serious or before leaving for missions, but right now, the air around them is light, and Seonghwa’s smile is so tender it makes Hongjoong’s heart clench in his chest. Hongjoong feels like he could spend all night telling Seonghwa how happy he is, how lucky he feels to have him back by his side, how relieved he is to see him again even if it’s with countless cuts and burns. Instead, he leans forward, cradles Seonghwa’s cheek and presses their lips together, instantly feeling a hand settling in his hair.
Seonghwa’s lips taste of salt with a coppery hint of blood, but they’re warm against Hongjoong’s, as are the fingers playing with the little hairs at the nape of his neck, and he’s never felt more alive.
Hongjoong presses further, licking at Seonghwa’s lips and tracing the cut on his cheek with the pad of his thumb, and Seonghwa hisses. “I’m sorry,” Hongjoong whispers. He makes a move to pull away, but Seonghwa’s hold tightens in his hair.
“Don’t be,” he says. “It’s worth it.”
“Are you sure?”
Seonghwa nods, already leaning back in. “I’ve waited too long to hold you like this, I’m not letting some stupid cuts take it away from me.”
Hongjoong’s giggles are swallowed by Seonghwa’s lips. They still move carefully against each other, both to save Seonghwa as much pain as possible, and because it’s all so new, so unreal, that they want to take the time to savor it. When he feels Seonghwa lick at his lips, he raises from his chair and settles beside him on the bed, resting his weight on his elbow, his hand still careful on Seonghwa’s cheek. He almost laughs again when the contrast between this morning and right now reaches the back of his mind. He can’t believe he went from thinking Seonghwa was dead to kissing him like there’s no tomorrow in a matter of hours.
Eventually, they part for breath, silly smiles mirrored, and Seonghwa chuckles.
“Holy shit, I didn’t think it would take me nearly dying in a shipwreck for this to come true.”
He comes back on his words when he sees Hongjoong’s smile fall. “I didn’t mean it to be rude, Joong. I’m sorry. I just… We gotta recognize the irony of it all, don’t you think?”
“You want irony?” Seonghwa nods, curious. “When I woke up this morning, the first thing I told myself was ‘Seonghwa is dead’, because it didn’t make sense that you weren’t by my side yet after all this time. Assuming you were gone forever was easier than not knowing forever.”
Seonghwa looks pensive for a few seconds, fingers still dancing in Hongjoong’s hair. “Well,” he starts, “now you know. I’m back by your side, and I’m not leaving anytime soon.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Their kiss is tender and soft and delicate and filled with so much love that Hongjoong thinks his heart is about to burst.
“I love you,” he whispers against Seonghwa’s lips.
“I love you too,” the other whispers back, and Hongjoong feels himself melt into his touch, into this precious moment he thought he’d never get to experience.
They stay like this for a while, kissing leisurely and exchanging whispered confessions, before Hongjoong complains that his shoulder is starting to burn from resting all his weight on it, to which Seonghwa snickers. Still, he shifts as much as he can (not without his share of complaining and grunting) to let Hongjoong settle properly beside him on the bed. The captain rests his head carefully on his right hand man’s shoulder, scanning his face carefully to make sure he’s not hurting him. They let silence fill the cabin, the barely there sound of the waves crashing on the Aurora ’s hull enveloping them like a lullaby.
Hongjoong is starting to doze off when Seonghwa’s voice wakes him back up.
“It’s a miracle that you sailed past the shipwreck. A couple more hours and I’d be dead.”
Hongjoong shakes his head lightly, meeting Seonghwa’s eyes. “I don’t think it’s a miracle. I think it’s fate.”
Seonghwa raises an eyebrow with a small grin. “Yeah?”
Hongjoong nods and places a peck on Seonghwa’s lips. “The same fate that brought you to the docks all those years ago and gave me the best right hand man I could ever wish for. We’re meant to find each other no matter what.”
Seonghwa’s smile turns soft, and he presses a kiss to Hongjoong’s forehead, resting his lips there and carding his fingers through his hair. “Am I your fated, Kim Hongjoong?” he murmurs against his skin.
“If you’ll have me as yours.”