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Sunflowers.
A pitiful flower, you think as you reach down and snap the stem cleanly. Bringing the flower closer, you immediately scrunch your nose. There’s never a floral fragrance emitted by sunflowers, you remember, as you pull away from the resinous scent that’s beginning to cloud your senses.
Pathetic, you think, and smile.
Sunflowers remind you of things that are never good enough, always stuck on the ground and pining for that which takes flight and arcs across the sky, leaving behind trails of flames.
You exhale as you tilt your head, contemplating on whether to toss the flower back down to rest among the other ones still attached to their roots or not. It would make its place of birth its grave, you muse. You’re distracted when a voice calls out to you — it’s the third mate, Na Jaemin, who comes up bounding up the hill, out of breath. “Captain calls,” He gasps out, doubling over and clutching his knees. “Ship’s leavin’ soon.”
You hum in response, before tucking the flower into the front pocket of your vest as you begin to make your way downhill. There is no clear path through the meadow, all dirt and moist soil that cakes the soles of your boots as you finally reach the main road and enter the bustling port.
Careful to pull your hat a little lower over your eyes, you make your way quickly towards the large vessel that bobs slowly at the end of the pier. The black flag that is tied to the mainmast flutters slightly in the wind that begins to pick up, showcasing the coyote that is the symbol of your crew — unwavering loyalty, never to leave each other’s side even in death.
He’s waiting for you at the edge of the deck, staring down at you as you pause at the plank. “Something wrong, cap'n?” You ask, a sly smile curling the corners of your lips up. He crosses his arms over his chest, arching an eyebrow. “You snuck off,” He states simply.
You shrug, still giving him that smile. “Beautiful day, thought I’d get some fresh air,” You say airily. “Plus, I can’t let my precious crewmates out of my sight for this expedition — I’d be a terrible First Mate otherwise.”
You don’t wait for his response, but you know it’s probably a mix of disapproval and grudging agreement, since it is the deck crew being sent out instead of your usual expedition boys. You scramble up the plank, pausing as he watches you reach the top, before he extends a hand. You grin, taking it. He pulls you up, the both of you standing nearly chest to chest.
He exhales quietly, letting go of your hand as he blinks tiredly at you. You feel a little sympathy rise in your chest, so you give him a small pat on his shoulder. “You needn’t worry so much, cap'n,” You say mildly. “I’m not going to run away.”
He gives you a pointed look, and you purse your lips, before chuckling. “Okay, point taken,” You admit. He had forbidden you from stepping down from the ship today — the pirate port of Tortuga did offer sanctuary to all those who plundered the seven seas, and especially to those who were considered to be the ‘Brethren of the Coast.’ Regardless of his high standing on the island, your captain more often than not preferred to stay a short while, if at all, on the island in order to restock on supplies and then leave.
There were several reasons you could think of, seeing as your crew harboured quite the variety of people, from women to runaway princes. However great the ties between the Brethren of the Coast were, their code of conduct was looser than ropes when the sails were brought down. You sigh, shifting your eyes from the lean figure of Jaemin as he approaches the ship, lugging another bag.
Following him closely is the smaller figure of Renjun, who’s not really carrying much except himself with an air of dignity befitting an army general. You watch them for a few seconds, amused, before you curl your fingers around your captain’s wrist, gaining his attention.
“I’ll always return, then,” You promise. “Even if I run away.” The captain eyes you, before a lilting smile crosses his lips. “I’ll hold you to that,” He says, moving away as Renjun shoos the both of you away, scolding you for blocking the path.
“We’ll have to leave soon.” You turn to see the quartermaster, Mark, making his way towards you, looking a little tense. The captain makes a noise of agreement, looking out at the shimmering blue expanse that spreads out behind your ship. “How soon?” You ask Mark, watching as the man cards his fingers through his hair, looking visibly stressed. “As soon as Jeno comes back,” He says decidedly, before narrowing his eyes at you. “Did you go down?” He asks, peering at the sweat that clings to your neck and arms.
“What makes you think that?” You ask innocently, and he stares pointedly at the mud you’ve tracked over the deck. You look at it, before looking back at him and shrug.
“You are a terrible example to the crew,” He says exasperatedly. “Watch it, buddy,” You say with a grin as you poke his chest with your finger. “You dare question our precious captain’s choice?”
“Every day,” Mark sighs. Your captain snorts behind you, shaking his head. “I don’t blame you,” He says easily. “I do too.”
“Hey,” You protest. “I’m good at what I do.”
“If you mean swindling and singing barbaric tunes while drunk, I’ll agree,” Your captain says, and your jaw drops. “This is unfair,” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “See if I do anything nice for you ever again.”
“You will,” Your captain smiles. “You promised to keep coming back, after all.” You roll your eyes but don’t dispute the statement. A heavy thud draws all of your attention to the boy that has just rolled on deck, carrying a heavy sack.
“Screw you,” He groans. Twinkling eyes peek over the edge of the ship before Chenle crawls his way on, laughing loudly. “You offered to carry it, Jeno,” He says, grinning wildly. “Half of it,” Jeno grumbles, before rolling onto his stomach. Lifting his chin, he signals Mark that he’s got the last of the things they needed.
Mark nods approvingly, before bellowing for the crew to come to order. Ryujin waltzes past you in her usual, airy Second Mate fashion, giving you a wink as she situates herself beside Mark as they stalk up to the quarterdeck. Your captain watches them spring to action tiredly, and something aches briefly in your chest, so you reach out.
You cup his cheek, tilting your head as you notice his breath hitch in surprise, before his eyes flutter shut a little and he leans into your touch. “Take some rest,” You say with a smile. “I’ll take care of it down here.”
He doesn’t say anything, merely keeping his gaze on yours. “Oi.” You lean forward, taking his face in both your hands. “You still with me?”
“Mm,” He lets out a little laugh, leaning down slightly to press his forehead to yours. “Tired.”
“I know.” You let your eyes close briefly, before snapping to order. You let go of him, jutting your thumb in the direction of his cabin. “Go,” You order. “Rest. We’ll need you in tip-top shape for later, won’t we? For now,” You give him a wink, pointing to yourself. “Leave it up to your very capable First Mate.”
“Hurry up, rat!” You see Ryujin calling you on, gesticulating violently as she let loose a string of colourful insults as Mark listens on, looking thoroughly disappointed in her. You snicker a little, before you turn to your captain.
You barely register him leaning down before he presses a chaste kiss to your lips, mumbling a small, “Thank you,” against your lips. You soften a little when he tilts his head, nose brushing against yours as he presses a hand to the nape of your neck to pull you closer. It lasts a few more seconds, but to you, it feels like a languid, lazy eternity that you hate to let go off as he pulls away.
You shake your head, before remembering the flower tucked away in your pocket. The petals are a little crumpled, but it has still remained intact overall, save for a missing leaf. You reach out and tuck it behind his ear, grinning. He looks a little ridiculous, but also breathtakingly ethereal under the setting sun, glowing tan skin highlighted by the contrast of the thin white shirt he’s wearing. His hair falls into his eyes as the breeze runs its icy fingers through thick brown locks, and you smile, brushing it out of his face.
“A sunflower?” He asks, arching an eyebrow as he presses the flower with his fingers. “Didn’t think you’d be the flower type of person.”
“I’m not,” You agree. “But I saw it and decided it deserved to be near the sun at least once in its lifetime.” Your words seem to take a second to register, before he bursts out laughing. You note the way his ears have turned slightly red with glee.
“You’ve become a sap,” He says, and you shrug nonchalantly. “What can I say, I’ve spent too much time with you.” You shove him in the direction of his cabin. “Go, Haechan.”
He looks back at you with a small smile, before mock saluting and making his way over. You watch him disappear into the small room, the door swinging shut, before you whirl around and bound up the stairs, pushing past Mark.
You bark out orders like you’re made for the job. The anchor is raised, the sails are unfurled, and Ryujin mans the helm as Mark instructs her on the best course to take. You’ll have to take the helm from her in a few hours — Haechan would probably have a fit if he realizes you let Ryujin at the keel after the last time she nearly crashed into a cove, even if she does have Mark there to scrutinize her every movement now.
The sailors crowd around their posts, Renjun scrambling up to the Crow’s Nest, and soon enough, the ship is cutting through the choppy waves easily underneath the gaze of the setting sun.
It’s like watching well-oiled parts of a machine come together to move and work in rhythm, like cogs and gears fine-tuned to work in sync. It’s always extremely satisfying to see it all come together so well. It brings a sense of peace, knowing that this is a crew you can trust your life with — an adaptable crew willing to take in anyone and offer them a place, a home, and security. A crew willing to fight tooth and nail for each other, a crew that wove themselves together with torn red strings of fate. A crew that is led by the Pirate Who Kissed the Sun, Lee Haechan.
You smile at the thought, dropping down to check around and see if anyone needs help. Even the newest lad, Jisung, who was an abandoned boy you found in a cove, shivering and starving, is getting along well, especially under Jaemin’s supervision. The Third Mate’s eyes light up as you pass by, latching onto you as you make your rounds, before moving back up to the quarterdeck.
“You know,” He says in a sing-song voice. “You were wrong earlier.” You eye him, raising your eyebrows slightly. “How so?” You question.
He wags a finger at you. “The sunflower you gave him is technically already dead,” He says in the same tone, and you sigh loudly. “It never met the sun, even yours.”
“It’s sentiment, Jaemin,” You say exasperatedly, before wacking the back of his head lightly. “You shouldn’t even be listening to my conversations with Captain.”
“I’ll do that when you start calling him by his real name more often,” Jaemin huffs, rubbing the back of his head. “Some pair of lovers you are.” “Why don’t you sort out your own love life before judging mine?” You roll your eyes, punching his arm playfully. He gives you a nasty look, batting your hand away, before lighting up when Jeno calls out to him for something.
You watch him scramble down the stairs to assist the other, resting your chin on your palm as you prop your elbow on the railing of the quarterdeck. Your eyes move over the peaceful ongoings of the ship, and you idly think that this is where you’re meant to be — content with life on wood, surrounded by salt in the air and spray of mist as waves lap at the hull of the ship.
You’re content being the First Mate of this crew, and you’re content having someone to hold. Absent-mindedly, you think of the sunflower you tucked behind Haechan’s ear, and smile. At least you’ll never be the flower who pines for something far out of its reach, destined to only watch from the ground.
After all, you are even more determined than Icarus, the one who would and did follow Haechan to the end of the world and back, watching him hold the sun in the palm of his hand and still thinking he’s the brightest being in your universe. Even if your wings of wax did melt, you’d always find a way back into his arms, and him into yours.
So, no, you’re not a sunflower, for you will always have the man you love at the ends of your fingertips, and you never, ever plan on letting him go.