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The clink of swords clashing and the harsh grating as sharp metal slid against each other rang loud in Doyoung’s ears. He gritted his teeth, trying desperately to blink away the sweat that had started to cling to and droop off of his eyelashes. The telltale sound of battle around him became duller as the rushed pumping of his blood overpowered it all. It took everything in him to not lose himself in the erratic beating of his heart that he could feel thrumming off the edge of his skin, pounding against the side of his skull.
His peripheral vision had all but blurred, the only thing with a barely recognizable outline being the horribly ugly face of a pirate who was shouting some profanity or other barely a foot in front of him. Doyoung had stopped paying attention to the heated yells of the pirate ages ago, partly for not being able to understand a word the pirate was uttering with how heavy their accent was, and partly because Doyoung simply didn’t give a shit.
He had only just gotten used to the feel of a sword in his hands a fortnight ago; only the mere ghost of calluses on his palms where they gripped the sword handle were present—not yet used to the constant strain of everyday use, healed wounds piling on top of each other day by day as Doyoung powered through bloodied knuckles to get the next move right.
He was stretched thin trying to balance focus on remembering the motions of his training while also paying attention to the moves of the pirate in front of him.
The pirate had definitely noticed his disadvantage in swordsmanship, and instead of using that knowledge to actually outsmart or outpower Doyoung, they had taken to useless loud taunting that frankly would work well on anyone else, but unfortunately for them, Doyoung had spent now eleven months aboard a pirate ship where nobody had given him a second glance, and if they did, it was only one of disdain or mockery. No amount of harsh words from a nameless brute would waver his determination to prove himself to those very same pirates.
Doyoung could feel the cuts in his palms start to open up again, not fully recovered from the rigorous training he had put himself through not even a few hours ago.
The sun had set on them peacefully just like it had any other night, making way for the stars and galaxies above to start appearing in their twinkling patterns and help guide The Ursa through the dark, black sea.
That was when another ship had descended upon theirs, right out of the shadows. Immediately the crew had noticed the other ship wasn’t sailing close on friendly terms, and a battle had commenced immediately in the minute it took for the other ship to drop their planks onto the deck and run across.
Doyoung took in a deep breath, and with all the strength he could muster, pushed against the other pirate’s sword with his own, sending the other pirate into a backward stumble. Doyoung quickly saw his chance to subdue them, the pirate having lost their footing. He dashed forward, about to deliver a quick slice to the pirate’s leg so they were decommissioned, but right at the last moment, before Doyoung could even begin to form an expression of horror and regret at his oversight, the pirate smirked and titled their sword outward so Doyoung’s abdomen was in its direct line.
Doyoung only had a split second to react, lurching to the side, but he had been on a strong dash forward that trying to suddenly change directions wasn’t as effective as he could’ve hoped. He just narrowly escaped the sword impaling him in the middle, but the sharp edge of the blade still sliced into the skin on the side of his abdomen, taking a good chunk of him with it.
Crying out in pain, Doyoung strengthened the grip on his sword and swung it blindly behind him. The only sound that followed was the pained grunt of the pirate and a dull thump against the wooden deck beneath them. Doyoung tried not to think about the implications of what he’d just done; they were in a battle after all and the other pirates had attacked first. He had accepted the fact he would most likely have to take a life at one point or another if he was to keep up the lifestyle he had on The Ursa, but it didn’t stop his stomach from churning.
His side burned harder than a thousand suns, and he quickly brought a hand to his ribs where the cut was the deepest, applying pressure despite the sudden searing pain that shot through him at it. Doyoung glanced down, and he saw half of his white blouse was soaked in deep red liquid, but the fabric was so dirtied from the fight, and other pirate blood splattering on him from being caught in the crossfire, that one might not even be able to tell Doyoung was injured (if they didn’t look hard enough).
The background noise of others fighting and shouting that had only been distant in Doyoung’s ears up until this point suddenly died down, and when Doyoung finally turned around to face the rest of the ship, he had found most of the enemy pirates either dead on the deck or scrambling back onto their ship so they could flee.
“We won!” Doyoung heard Donghyuck yell, the kid pumping his sword in the air triumphantly as an excited holler left his lips. The rest of the crew followed his excitement, letting out their own noises of victory and relief as they pointed and laughed at the ship disappearing back into the dark shadows of the night, blending in with the black sea.
“I doubt this will be the last we see of them,” Kun reasoned over the noise, stepping down the steps from the upper deck, sheathing his sword in his hilt as he went. He stepped over a few limp bodies to where the rest of the crew were huddled. “We’ve humiliated them after they attacked us. Their numbers dwindled, but I have a feeling when they get a chance to regroup they will plot an act of revenge.”
A boisterous laugh came from the upper deck, and everyone turned at the sound, watching as their captain, Johnny, leaned forward against the wooden railing that lined the front of the upper deck. “Oh Kun, do you always have to be so cautious? Our men just won a fierce battle! Let’s soak in the victory for one night, yeah?”
If Doyoung hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought the sour expression that overcame Kun’s face was one of disdain for Johnny himself, but Doyoung did know better. He saw the way Kun’s features softened as his gaze lingered on Johnny, even after the rest of the crew laughed once more and started clapping each other on the backs with cheers of “party below deck!”. Doyoung could even dare say he saw the corners of Kun’s lips quirk up a bit with a roll of his eyes as Johnny sent him a wink and turned to walk toward the helm on the upper deck. It brought a soft smile to Doyoung’s lips watching the two.
Doyoung was so preoccupied with watching everyone move below deck to celebrate their victory that he almost forgot about the throbbing pain of the deep cut in his side. He could feel his vision blurring along the edges from the amount of blood he had lost and was still losing, and quickly applied more pressure to the wound with his hand to try and slow the bleeding.
He decided he would quickly slip into Taeyong’s quarters and grab some bandages so that he could patch himself up before trying to go and catch a few hours of sleep. He doubted how successful he’d be with the latter, knowing how long pirates loved to party, and he knew tonight would be especially long and noisy, their spirits high after the adrenaline of winning a battle.
Right as Doyoung was about to turn around to walk towards the quarters underneath the front deck, he was startled into stumbling over his own feet as someone from far behind him shouted, “Doyoung!”
Doyoung looked over his shoulder to see Mark waving at him excitedly. “Are you going to join the party?” Mark asked while throwing a thumb behind him, in the direction of the stairs that led below deck.
Doyoung tried to send Mark a smile, but another sting of pain in his side made him wince and he was certain the smile looked more of a grimace than anything else. “I don’t think so, Mark. I’m rather tired after everything. Maybe next time?”
He prayed Mark wouldn’t notice the way he was clutching his side, or his hunched posture and the slight shake in his legs. He’d feel extremely guilty if Mark figured out the extent of his injury and forewent celebrating with everyone else to help Doyoung because that was exactly something Mark would do no matter the protests Doyoung would make. He tried to smile reassuringly, but it felt pained and he only hoped that the cloak of night would mask it.
Fortunately for him, Mark only shrugged and sent him another smile and wave. “Of course! I’m sure Taeyong wouldn’t mind if you slept in his extra cot since I think all the men will be too loud for you to actually sleep below deck.”
“You’re right. Thank you, Mark.” Doyoung nodded. “Have fun,” He called, watching as Mark turned around and disappeared below deck.
It was only when he was certain that there was nobody around that Doyoung slumped forward and let out a low groan from the pain starting to spread through his middle. His breath was coming in shallow pants and his steps were wobbly, but he forced himself to move forward.
The little hallway tucked underneath the stairs up to the front deck was drenched in darkness, a cave of black compared to the deck that was starting to gain light as the clouds shrouding the moon dissipated. Doyoung knew the route easily; even though The Ursa was on the larger side of pirate ships, it was nearly impossible to get lost aboard.
With every step Doyoung felt his entire torso light up in flames, the white-hot pain flowing through his veins and to every inch and crevice of his body. His ears were filled with his harsh, jagged breathing and the thundering, erratic beat of his heart gushing more and more blood out of his wound. If Doyoung wasn’t so stubborn and determined to not let anyone find out about the extent of his injury, he was sure he would’ve already dropped unconscious on the bloody wood deck beneath his feet.
Now underneath the upper deck, without the guiding light of the moon, Doyoung needed to brace a hand against the wall next to him, the other still applying as much pressure as it could to the injury. Taeyong quarters were through the second door to his right; only twenty more paces and he would make it.
He focused down at his feet, putting one foot in front of the other. Just fifteen more paces, he told himself hastily, even as his vision blurred and his foot skidded across the wood causing him to hunch over, his knees buckling. Catching his breath took too long of a moment, but he was finally able to muster up the strength to stand up straight again and keep moving.
Just ten more paces, one foot in front of the other. One breath in, and one breath out.
Five more paces. One breath in, one breath out.
“What are you doing?”
No, no, no, Doyoung shut his eyes, hoping the voice was just his imagination; some sort of sick and twisted hallucination from losing too much blood. He stood perfectly still, willing the voice away, but when had the heavens been necessarily kind to Doyoung?
“Doyoung, I know you heard me. As much as you’d like to believe, you don’t possess the power of stealth.”
Of all people, why him? Doyoung thought to himself, before throwing a quick glance behind his shoulder at the figure standing at the end of the hallway. Some moonlight filtered through the gaps in the staircase, illuminating his face and great, there was a scowl there that Doyoung really didn’t want to deal with right now.
“None of your concern Yuta. Leave me alone,” Doyoung rasped, surprised that his voice even came out of his throat intelligibly, and not just as a group of pained breaths and groans.
Yuta scoffed, and Doyoung heard his footsteps growing closer until he was suddenly in Doyoung’s vision, way too close for Doyoung’s liking. Doyoung had to cross his eyes just to make out the blurry outline of Yuta’s head. Even in the dark hallway, Doyoung could see the irritating curve of Yuta’s nose and his eyes that only ever sparkled with mischief and a complete and utter lack of empathy.
“Why aren’t you below deck with the rest of the crew celebrating?” Yuta asked(well more demanded if Doyoung was telling the truth), his eyes narrowing as he scanned Doyoung’s face.
Doyoung tried to control his breath as much as he could, schooling his expression to make it seem as though he were simply out for a midnight stroll rather than quite literally fighting for his life. He hoped his voice didn’t sound too strained when he bit out, “You of all people should know how little I enjoy pirate celebrations.”
That comment at least seemed to convince Yuta to back off a bit, as he took a step away from Doyoung’s face with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. “And here I thought you were finally getting used to our way of life. Either way, there is no reason for you to be by these quarters.”
Doyoung let out a little huff, wanting to get away from this conversation as soon as physically possible if the gaping wound underneath his left palm wasn’t enough of an excuse. “I was going to rest on Taeyong’s extra cot, seeing as how there’s no way for me to get any below deck.”
His head was starting to feel way too light for his body, and Doyoung’s senses were seeping out of him as fast as the blood was. He shifted the weight between his feet to gain better ground, but he froze immediately at recognizing his own mistake.
The reaction was instant. Doyoung saw the way Yuta’s eyes flickered down his body to his feet, and on their way back up they hesitated at Doyoung’s torso, noticing the position of his left arm.
A heavy silence followed; Doyoung could almost choke on it. He felt with extreme precision the sweat dripping down the nape of his neck and the staggered intake of breath through his nose. He tried his best to show no weakness, staring straight at Yuta in a challenge. He knew out of any pirate in the entire crew, Yuta wouldn’t think twice about leaving him to rot on the floor in a pool of his own blood, the thought making his stomach churn with distaste for the other pirate. The stabbing remarks Doyoung would no doubt hear from him would only serve in prolonging his suffering rather than actually help.
What he didn’t expect, however, was for Yuta’s voice to come out low and rough. “How long?”
“What?” Doyoung rasped, unable to contain another groan as his knees strained against his own body weight once more.
In the next second a strong arm wrapped around his body and guiding him away from the wall, and away from Taeyong’s quarters. Doyoung could’ve cried with the relief he felt from not needing to support his full weight anymore. He almost cursed at Yuta for leading him away from Taeyong’s quarters, which was where he needed to go most, but anything he would’ve said died on his tongue when he was finally brought through another door and sat down on a bed, his limbs singing with joy at finally having their rest.
Doyoung tried falling back, not even caring about his injury anymore so he could get some sleep and forget about the past couple of hours, but a hand on his back pulled him forward into a sitting position despite his protests.
“Heavens, I knew you were an idiot, but I never thought you’d be this stupid.”
There was a verbal protest lodged in the back of Doyoung’s throat, but he didn’t have enough breath to release it. Sirens rang loud in the back of his head, telling him not to trust Yuta of all pirates, not knowing what he was capable of with Doyoung in his current state.
Cold hands reached underneath his blouse and Doyoung bristled, flinching away.
“Relax,” He heard, “I just need to take off your blouse to see the extent of your injury.”
Although the initial touch had shocked Doyoung, the cold now started to feel pleasant against his burning skin, and he let out a soft sigh as the hands brushed higher and higher up his torso and chest, taking the blouse with them.
Without the fabric sticking to every part of his body that it was touching, all of Doyoung’s senses narrowed to his injury, the pain increasing tenfold. It felt like a dozen pirates were each taking turns stabbing him in the side repeatedly. He blinked tears away from his eyes and bit down hard on his tongue when the cold hands touched the outskirts of the wound.
He heard a sharp intake of breath, and through sheer will cracked one eye open to look in front of him. Even through his foggy vision blurred by tears, he could clearly see the downturn of Yuta’s lips and his pinched eyebrows. Yuta’s eyes were focused hard on Doyoung’s side before he quickly stood up and walked to the far side of the room, and for some odd reason that action made even more tears well up in Doyoung’s eyes.
“Don’t,” He croaked, throat closing up. He coughed once, the action squeezing his whole chest and making it feel like his lungs were collapsing in on themselves. Yuta glanced at him before coming over and sitting in front of him once more to properly hear him. “Don’t leave me, please.”
It was clearly the wrong thing to say, and Doyoung could see rather than feel the way his hands and arms had started to shake as Yuta brought his head up to stare straight into Doyoung’s eyes, gaze cold. “Do you really think me such a monster that I would do such a thing?”
The words hurt. Why did the words hurt? Doyoung couldn’t explain it, but as he stared at Yuta, he saw nothing in his eyes that could indicate hostility or malice. It both relieved him and scared him to his core. Where was the Yuta he knew and grew accustomed to?, because the pirate in front of him surely couldn’t be him.
The only plausible conclusion Doyoung could come to about everything was that he was stuck in a dream. Stuck in some sort of haze brought upon lack of blood flow to his brain, Doyoung had conjured himself into a weird fantastical scenario where everything was the opposite of what it should be.
Even if he had a response to the question Yuta asked, Doyoung’s throat had finally given up on supporting his voice, and he was left with a weak sort of wheeze escaping his lips every third breath he took.
It seemed Yuta didn’t need an answer, however, with the way he silently went back to examining Doyoung’s wound before turning away to rummage through a small wooden chest that Doyoung presumed he had retrieved from the far side of the room.
Doyoung was floating between states of consciousness, not feeling fully present in his body. He felt himself being taken away, flying higher and higher in the sky until he was settling back into a big fluffy cloud without a care in the world. He chased the warm and light feeling, happy to finally be free of his injury, but he was harshly brought back down to reality when his whole side erupted in flames. He couldn’t properly cry out at the pain, but his mouth still fell wide open in a silent scream, hands rushing to cover the wound and get rid of whatever fire was being held against it.
“Shh shh,” Yuta whispered, gently coaxing Doyoung’s hands away so he could work. “It’s merely a little bit of rum, to clean the wound.”
Something in his voice soothed Doyoung, calming his racing heart down enough that he didn’t resist Yuta’s hands on his wrist. Instead, he latched onto Yuta’s hand, gripping the fingers tight in his palm. His stomach churned again, and it took the little strength left in him not to spill out his guts all over Yuta’s lap.
Yuta finished cleaning the wound within a few seconds, or maybe it was closer to a few minutes – Doyoung couldn’t focus on anything but the pain in his side, least of all the passage of time around him.
A wet rag was placed against his lips. “Open up,” Yuta said, and Doyoung could do nothing but obey, forcing his jaw open with a pop and a creak. It was just enough for Yuta to slip the rag between his teeth. “Now bite down.”
Immediately the taste of rum touched Doyoung’s tongue, soaked through the fabric of the rag. He wanted to question why, but just the simple act of opening his mouth to put the rag in had taken a great toll out of him, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to form any proper words for a long period of time.
“I need you to trust me Doyoung, can you do that?”
No, Doyoung’s mind screamed, clawing at the back of his eyes and snarling at the mere sight of Yuta’s face showing so much sincerity. But his head nodded slightly, and the voice screaming no stuttered seeing Yuta show him a smile that looked almost grateful.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood that merely wrapping the wound won’t be enough. I’ll need to sew it shut,” Yuta explained slowly with a soft voice, the sound of him rummaging through the wooden chest filling the otherwise silent room.
Doyoung knew what Yuta was saying, he had heard the words, but his mind hadn’t properly processed them until he felt something prick his skin near the wound. He hissed out, the sound muffled by the rum-soaked rag in his mouth.
This wasn’t the first time he had to get a wound sewn shut; he had taken a nasty fall off of one of the main masts during his first few weeks aboard the ship, and Taeyong had patched him up quickly and smoothly so that the wound healed with minimal scarring. That time had left Doyoung with barely any pain through the process, even without the usage of rum as a sedative.
Yuta was an entirely different story – he pricked Doyoung’s skin with the needle using too much force every time, causing Doyoung to wince and bite the rag with all his strength. His jaw had started to ache, but he knew they were still far from done.
Somehow the slow and agonizing movement of the needle pulling his skin back together brought some clarity back into Doyoung’s senses, and he started to gain a better grasp of where he was and the state of his limbs. Although the rum’s entire purpose was to make him less aware so he wouldn’t feel the extent of his pain as Yuta patched him up, Doyoung was able to finally flicker his eyes open and keep them open without his eyelids acting like heavy lead trying to close them.
He looked down at Yuta and found himself focusing not on the way Yuta’s nimble fingers were closing his wound shut with the needle and thread, but on the way Yuta’s bangs fell effortlessly over his forehead, framing his face beautifully. His tongue was peeking out one side of his mouth, an action he did every time he was fully concentrated on a task. Doyoung wasn’t in the right mind to truly think about how he even knew that little fact, or how often he had to have studied Yuta to confidently come to that conclusion in the first place.
Before long, the rhythmic pricking of the needle in his skin was at the back of Doyoung’s head, and he could only focus on the feel of Yuta’s calloused fingers as he pieced Doyoung back together, bit by bit. Doyoung didn’t even need to bite the rag anymore as the rum definitely started to take effect. His jaw relaxed inch by inch as Yuta finished, tying the thread and cutting off the excess with his teeth.
Doyoung couldn’t look away from the sight, not even when Yuta picked his head up and they locked eyes. There wasn’t a lot of light in the room, only a lantern placed on the desk to Yuta’s right so he could properly see Doyoung’s injury, and the soft pool of moonlight streaming in through the windows lining the far wall. Yet, even with such little light, Yuta’s eyes seemed to be lit ablaze, and Doyoung swore he could’ve counted every single freckle that littered Yuta’s cheeks, a product of his lifetime spent on the seas under the unforgiving sun.
Fifteen, Doyoung wanted to say.
Yuta was the first to break eye contact, moving his eyes down towards Doyoung’s lips so he could gingerly remove the rag from Doyoung’s mouth, throwing it haphazardly into the chest still open in his lap. Doyoung moved his jaw a little experimentally. He could still feel the ghost of the rag against his teeth but was happy to have full movement back. Though, now that it was gone, there was nothing stopping him from saying something stupid aloud; not even his dried-up throat could stop the words from coming out, even if they were scratchy and barely audible.
“Fifteen,” He said, watching as Yuta looked into his eyes once more, brows furrowed.
“Fifteen?” Yuta asked.
It was definitely the rum talking, Doyoung thought with belated horror – he’d always been a lightweight but he must’ve really been drunk at that moment, or insanely stupid. He should just close his jaw shut right then and there, maybe even ask Yuta to sew it like he did the wound, but instead, he breathed out a quiet, “Your freckles, there’s fifteen.”
Doyoung wanted to hit himself straight across the head – just what the hell was he doing? Yuta hated him for heaven's sake, and he hated Yuta back just as much…. right?
Ignoring the hesitation in his thoughts, Doyoung clamped down on his tongue to not say anything else stupid. He’d never hear the end of Yuta’s insults once this was over and he was all healed. He could imagine Yuta’s voice even now, a heartless snicker and “counting my freckles again, Dons?” whenever they’d eventually fall into another one of their heated arguments. The thought made him want to jump overboard out of humiliation.
Yuta stayed silent, but he didn’t break eye contact this time. Doyoung could feel his cheeks heat up and redden and only hoped the low light of the lamp wasn’t strong enough to make it noticeable, or if it was, Yuta only accounted it to the rum coursing through Doyoung’s body.
Doyoung expected Yuta's lips to twist into a shit-eating grin and for him to immediately start teasing Doyoung for his low alcohol tolerance and pain-riddled words, but instead, Yuta’s slow smile was something much softer, and he even let out a small chuckle.
“There’s actually sixteen,” Yuta whispered, “You missed one.”
What? Doyoung blinked in surprise. Yuta wasn’t going to tease him? Doyoung breathed in deep, stomping down the sudden flurry in his stomach. Yuta was merely just pitying him! Surely that was the only plausible explanation. Fearing the oncoming headache he’d no doubt have if he tried to ponder any other possibilities further, he quickly changed the subject. “I should get going,” He said, shifting his arm behind him to try and stand up, but his limbs suddenly felt like jelly and he couldn’t even push half his body off the bed.
“Easy there,” Yuta urged, arms coming to hover over Doyoung’s sides as if he were going to catch Doyoung should he fall. Doyoung wanted to roll his eyes; as if Yuta would care enough about him to do such a thing.
“I’m fine,” Doyoung urged, batting Yuta’s hands away. “I’ve intruded on your space long enough. It’s time for me to get some rest.” He tried getting up once more but was suddenly pushed backward harshly. He went down with a yelp as his back hit the quilts on the bed.
Blinking his eyes open, Doyoung found Yuta hovering over him, one of his hands pressed firmly on Doyoung’s shoulder.
“I know I already said it, but heavens you really are a fucking idiot,” Yuta breathed out, lips downturned into a scowl. “You can barely sit up straight but you expect to get all the way below deck from here by yourself?”
Doyoung tried to push back against Yuta’s grip, but it was physically impossible with how much his injury had weakened him – not to mention the stuttering revelation that Yuta was in fact very strong. Doyoung’s heart rate picked up tremendously, and he stubbornly accounted it from the surprise of Yuta pushing him back, and definitely not from the way Yuta’s face was so very close to his, or how the strong grip of his palm on Doyoung’s bare shoulder had heat sparking from the point of contact.
“Don’t fight me Doyoung, because you know I’ll win every time.” Something of a smirk played along Yuta’s lips and Doyoung hated the way his heart skipped a beat. “Now stay here and get some rest, yeah?”
Doyoung wanted to pull his hair out; he was so confused by it all – by Yuta’s kindness and by his own heart betraying his mind. “Why are you doing all this?” He whispered.
“Doing what?” Yuta blinked.
Doyoung bit his tongue to stop the scoff from leaving his lips. “Helping me,” He gritted out.
Yuta blinked again, and then slowly removed his hand from Doyoung’s shoulder and sat back on the bed, as far away from Doyoung as possible. Doyoung pointedly ignored the loss of Yuta’s touch and how much he actually missed it.
The silence between them was heavy. Doyoung didn’t dare say a word and didn’t dare stare at Yuta for longer than a few seconds, alternating between looking at the lamp flickering on top of the bedside table, outside the far windows, and the wooden ceiling above him.
Finally, Yuta spoke up. “You know, we may not see eye to eye on practically everything, and hell I can barely stand being within 10 feet of you half the time.” Doyoung rolled his eyes, wanting to spit out a curt ‘the feeling’s mutual’, but he didn’t. Yuta continued on. “But despite all of that, you’re still a part of this crew, ever since Johnny brought you aboard all those months ago.”
“What’s the worth of mentioning the obvious?” Doyoung voiced his thoughts aloud, shifting on the bed so he was laying on his good side and not his back. This way he could still lay his head comfortably on the pillow beneath him and also steal glimpses at Yuta without needing to crane his neck forward.
Yuta sighed, rubbing his palm over his face. Even in the low light, he looked exhausted and seeped of all his energy. Doyoung stupidly forgot that he wasn’t the only one who had just fought in an intense battle against other pirates and that Yuta, being one of the most skilled swordsmen among the crew, probably faced many more pirates than Doyoung, and most likely all at once too. Doyoung felt guilty for burdening Yuta with his injury when he could’ve spent his time getting rest, or even enjoying a nice drink with the rest of the crew. He kept his mouth gingerly shut, however, sensing that Yuta wasn’t finished with what he wanted to say.
Sure enough, Yuta turned his head away from Doyoung and spoke up again, but his voice was so quiet that Doyoung had to strain his ears just to hear it. “Where I come from, family isn’t just your blood. It’s those that would jump into the depths of hell and crawl all the way back out just to make sure you’re safe.” Yuta turned his head and stared straight into Doyoung’s eyes, his gaze so intense and raw that Doyoung dared not look away. “You’ve spent nearly a year on this ship, and Johnny sees you as part of his family, and Johnny’s my family. However annoying you may be, and trust me you can be extremely annoying, I would never just stand there and do nothing if I see that you’re hurt.”
Doyoung didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what he could even say to such a thing. From the moment he had stepped foot aboard The Ursa, he had clashed swords with Yuta, metaphorically and literally (that was a fight he’d rather not think about ever again in his life). They didn’t see eye to eye on anything, and it didn’t help that Doyoung was brought on board as their new navigator, needing to work the closest with the ship’s sailing master, who was none other than Yuta himself.
Not even the crew themselves had seen any hope for the pair to form any sense of comradery or even the barest forms of acknowledgment. The only one who had never shown an ounce of worry for the two of them was Johnny, who always boasted about their chemistry as crewmates, all the while Doyoung and Yuta would be shooting daggers at each other behind Johnny’s back.
Doyoung had laughed it off as Johnny’s neverending optimism that didn’t tether to the restraints of reality. He had laughed then, knowing he could never show an ounce of like, or hell even an ounce of respect for Yuta, and yet…
And yet, as Doyoung strained his core to push himself into a sitting position, despite Yuta’s immediate protests, he couldn’t feel anything else but guilt. Guilt for ever thinking Yuta was as heartless a pirate as he had so desperately believed for the past eleven months. Guilt for noticing the redeeming qualities of Yuta long ago, but refusing to acknowledge them to avoid facing his fear of change and the feeling bubbling deep within his core.
Guilt, for causing Yuta to think Doyoung believed him a monster incapable of something as simple as helping a crewmate in need.
“I’m sorry,” He breathed out, unable to look directly into Yuta’s eyes, afraid that he wouldn’t like the look he would find in them.
“Doyoung.” Yuta reached a hand out, gently placing it on top of Doyoung’s knee. Doyoung’s eyes were trained onto his lap, but they flickered to Yuta’s hand, staring intently at the veins that ran up the back of his palm, and the remnants of blood – Doyoung’s blood – splattered across his fingertips.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Doyoung forced out before he chickened out, his heartbeat thundering loud in his ears and rattling his brain around his skull. “I still very much think you are the most disdainful man, pirate or not, that I’ve ever met. You are horribly stubborn and won’t listen to a word I say when we’re trying to navigate, even though I’ve insisted countless times that the sky alone won’t help us accurately find our way.”
“When you’ve spent as many years as I have on the sea–”
“You know the sky as much, or sometimes even better, than you know the waves, yes I know. I think you’ve said that enough times that I could recite it in my sleep,” Doyoung cut off Yuta before he could finish interrupting Doyoung. “Gods, even when I’m trying to compliment you, you somehow get on my nerves.”
Yuta let out a snort and then fell into a tiny fit of giggles, and the sheer surprise of hearing Yuta laugh for the first time ever caused Doyoung to finally pick his head up and properly look at Yuta. His free hand was covering his mouth as he hunched over, shoulders shaking lightly in time with his laughter.
“This,” Yuta said between giggles, “This is you complimenting me?”
Doyoung huffed, cheeks starting to burn more and more by the second. He glanced away from Yuta and grumbled out, “Maybe if you’d let me finish instead of constantly interrupting.”
“Alright,” Yuta conceded, and when Doyoung glanced back at him, he saw Yuta’s lips stretch into a smile way too smug for his liking, and in that moment Doyoung wished for nothing more than to jump out of the window. “Keep complimenting me then.”
“Absolutely not,” Doyoung bit out, embarrassment spilling out of every pore in his body, leaving a light red blush in its wake. “Your ego is inflated enough as it is.”
“Awe don’t be like that Doyoung,” Yuta cooed – cooed for heaven's sake!
Doyoung let out another huff, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Yuta was still looking at him expectantly, the shit-eating grin plastered permanently on his face. Doyoung only hated how much he actually liked the sight of Yuta smiling like that. Eventually, he relented and slumped his shoulders. “I wanted to say I’m sorry because for the past eleven months I thought you to be this pirate with a horrible attitude and absolutely no sense of empathy. Clearly, I was wrong, because you value family above all else, would do anything for those that you care about, and know how to put your trust in people when the time is right.”
Now that he started, Doyoung couldn’t stop, and all the jumbled up, barely-stringed-together thoughts came tumbling out of him without any sense or clarity. “You’re even more stubborn than I am, and I had never thought that fact to be possible before I joined this crew, but you proved me wrong every day. You like things done your way, especially when it comes to sailing, and I never admitted this before because gods know I’ll never hear the end of it from you now that I’m saying it, but a while back when he had one of our worse quarrels over which way would get us to Port Tortuga faster, I realized halfway through the argument that you were indeed right, and that I had read my navigation charts wrong the first time.” He saw the smile spread impossibly wider on Yuta’s face and internally groaned. “Don’t say a word,” He emphasized with an accusatory point in Yuta’s direction. Yuta merely put both his hands up in mock surrender, but Doyoung saw the way his shoulders slightly moved with silent laughter.
“You,” Doyoung’s voice grew quieter, and he nervously played with his fingers in his lap. “You can do every job on this ship the same as, or even better than, anyone else on the crew. You love the sea like nobody else I’ve ever seen, and I’m pretty sure Donghyuck would marry the spirit of the sea if he could.” Yuta chuckled, and Doyoung joined him for a few seconds. “Whenever we leave land, your face lights up at the prospect of being back on the open water, whereas most other people on the crew have a small pinch in their eyebrows. You’re fiercely independent, but offer up your help to anyone without a second’s hesitation, and I only noticed all these things because well, you’d never given me help with anything, though I doubt you ever wanted to with the way we were always at each other’s throats.”
Doyoung chanced a glance at Yuta’s face and was surprised to see the smile had all but gone. A tiny sprout of dread grew in his stomach; him pouring his heart out was probably the wrong decision based on Yuta’s reaction. How stupid he was to think this one night could change a whole eleven months of animosity between them. Yuta was probably going to make a heart stabbing remark any moment now, or laugh in Doyoung’s face for his naivety and sappy words.
“I never knew you felt this way,” Yuta said. “I’m still pretty sure you were born with a permanent scowl etched into your face.”
At that, Doyoung sent him a glare, and Yuta shook his head, the smile coming back softer than before. “There it is, the familiar face I missed so much.” He cocked his head to the side, studying Doyoung. “As much as I love the usual Doyoung scowl, I have to say you look better when you’re smiling.”
“S-smiling?” Doyoung stuttered, his heart skipping a beat or two.
“Yeah, though you’ve never shown it to me.” The way Yuta bit out the word me, as if he was upset at the mere fact that Doyoung had never smiled at him. “Those rare moments where I’ll catch you smiling and laughing with Mark or Kun, they’ve always made me want to know what it was I could do to get you to smile like that when you were with me, instead of the constant scowling or glaring. Though, I suppose I deserved them with how often I refused your navigating advice despite you being an expert. I’m sorry for downplaying your abilities.”
“Really?” Doyoung breathed, not believing his ears. He stared wide-eyed at Yuta, who looked suddenly shy, scratching the back of his neck with a light flush high on his cheeks.
“Really. I guess you know what they say,” Yuta muttered, “Hate is just another form of passion.”
“Passion,” Doyoung repeated, finding that he liked the way the word rolled around his tongue. “I can see what you could mean by that.”
The smile Yuta sent his way had Doyoung’s heart fluttering, and he thought with a smile of his own that maybe getting gravely injured was worth it if it meant he could see more of Yuta’s smiles.
“You know you’re not so bad when you’re not trying to cut my head clean off with a sword,” Doyoung teased, and loved the way Yuta’s face flushed.
“I meant to apologize for that ages ago, I swear to the heavens. I was just- well, you see- You were really infuriating when we first met and I only-”
It was equally as shocking to see Yuta stumbling over his words when he would usually always have a quick remark to anything anyone ever said to him. The sight of a flustered Yuta was actually rather endearing, and even with the racing of his heart, Doyoung leaned over to place a chaste kiss on Yuta’s cheek.
That little action rendered Yuta utterly speechless, and Doyoung could only giggle. “I was merely poking a little fun. You’ve long been forgiven for that because if I had known my way around a sword I would’ve gone for the head too. How about we start over? From the very beginning?” His heart sung at the way Yuta nodded fervently, one hand coming up to cup the cheek that Doyoung kissed.
“I’d like that,” Yuta said, smile lopsided, but then a yawn ripped through him. Doyoung rolled his eyes fondly at the sight. “But can we start over in the morning? I’m exhausted.”
“Tired already? And here I thought you’d be abandoning me at a moment’s notice to go below deck and party with your crew,” Doyoung teased, mirth filling his voice.
Yuta rolled his eyes. “There’ll be plenty more celebrations to attend to. Let’s not forget I just single-handedly patched up your injury and saved your life. You’re welcome by the way, I expect a mountain of favors in return.”
“Just when I was starting to think you were actually decent too,” Doyoung grumbled, but he couldn’t be mad for long when Yuta’s mouth split into a wide smile and he slung a loose arm around Doyoung’s neck, careful not to jostle him too much with the injury.
“You will think I’m way more than decent soon enough,” Yuta said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and Doyoung pushed him with a scoff and a laugh.
“Can we please just sleep now?”
“We?” Yuta asked with another wiggle of his eyebrows. “How scandalous of you, Doyoung, to assume we would be sleeping together tonight.”
Doyoung sputtered for the second time, the back of his neck heating. “Well you said earlier- and I assumed you wouldn’t want- I can always leave-”
Yuta shushed him with a finger on his lips, and Doyoung could only stare dumbly, eyes crossed. “I kid, Doyoung. I don’t expect you to move from that very spot for at least a week if I have any say in it.” He shifted until he was sitting between Doyoung and the wall, before laying on his back and patting the space next to him. “And if it just happens that it’s my bed and I also have to rest here, well then that’s purely coincidence, don’t you think?”
Doyoung mumbled something, but it was unintelligible even to his own ears. Ignoring the fire spreading rapidly throughout his chest, he slowly laid down until he and Yuta were next to each other, Doyoung on his back and Yuta on his side facing Doyoung.
“Get as much rest as you need, yeah?” Yuta whispered.
Doyoung turned his head on the pillow to send Yuta a grateful smile. “You too.”
With the lamp slowly losing its heat and light, slowly shrouding the room in darkness, Doyoung found sleep overcame him quicker than it ever had before. It was the first night since the death of his parents that he didn’t have nightmares, and he had an inkling it was because of the pirate snoring lightly next to him.
Doyoung stirred awake to the sound of footsteps on the wood above him, and the rustling of sheets next to him. He slowly blinked his eyes open, only to be met with Yuta’s face way too close for comfort.
“Fuck don’t scare me like that,” Doyoung murmured, nose scrunching up. “What the hell are you doing?”
Yuta hummed, cocking his head to the side, but making no move to retreat. “Looking at you. Can I not?”
“Not if you don’t want to look like an utter creep doing it,” Doyoung mumbled, but he didn’t admit out loud that he subtly preened under the attention Yuta was giving him, his eyes big and curious. “How long have you been up?”
“Only a minute or two,” Yuta answered, bringing his hand up so he could rest his chin against his palm. “I was waiting for you to wake up so we could start over.”
Doyoung wanted to laugh at how blunt Yuta was, but then again he had known that from months working side by side with him. “Your idea of starting over is staring at me?”
“Well if we’re really starting over, from before we were properly introduced, then yes I would’ve stared at you then too. I don’t think you realize, but you’re beautiful Doyoung.” The easy and forward confession had Doyoung reeling, suddenly fully awake. He quickly turned his head away so as not to have to meet Yuta’s eyes, but it was hard when Yuta’s face was still so close.
“You can’t just say things like that,” Doyoung said, voice strained and exasperated from the way his heart was going into overdrive.
Yuta laughed softly. “And why not? I’m only telling the truth. It doesn’t have to mean anything, but I still wanted you to know.”
Doyoung huffed, suppressing a whine because gods he really couldn’t take so many attacks on his already weak heart in such little time. “Shut up,” He whispered. “Let’s just start over for real.”
He expected a protest out of Yuta or another weird remark, but Yuta simply sat up and extended his hand out toward Doyoung. “Okay. My name is Nakamoto Yuta, and I’m this ship’s sailing master. I hear you’re our new navigator. A pleasure to meet you.”
That wasn’t exactly what Doyoung had in mind, but he still smiled and took Yuta’s hand in his own. “Kim Doyoung. I hope we can get along well and work together the best we can.”
Yuta squeezed his hand once before letting go. “Oh, I think we’ll get along just fine.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Doyoung could only scoff and shove at his knee weakly since it was the only part of Yuta’s body that he could reach.
Doyoung saw something in Yuta’s eyes shift, and thought he had something else to say, but whatever it could’ve been was cut off by the door to Yuta’s quarters slamming open without care.
“Up and early, Yuta! Your shift started an hour-”
Both Doyoung and Yuta turned their heads to see Kun standing in the doorway, eyes wide with shock as he took in the scene in front of him.
Doyoung realized with a blush spreading rapidly down from his cheeks to his chest what the two of them looked like to Kun. Doyoung’s shirt was discarded somewhere on the floor, his bandages hidden underneath the quilt, Yuta’s shirt lost all the same because of all the blood that had been on it from the fight. Both of their hair was messed up and ruffled, and Doyoung’s hand was still on Yuta’s knee where he sat looming over Doyoung.
Kun’s face split into a wide grin. “I was wondering why the two of you didn’t show your faces last night. Am I interrupting something?”
“Not at all!” Doyoung squeaked, at the same time Yuta let out a monotone “Yes, so leave.”
Their differing answers caused Kun to throw his head back with laughter, his arm leaning against the doorframe. “Oh Jonny’s going to get a kick out of this,” He said mostly to himself, “Well I’ll leave you two alone, but Yuta I expect you to be at the wheel in no later than an hour.”
“You got it,” Yuta responded, watching as Kun closed the door shut behind him, but Doyoung was still so trapped in his embarrassment at the misunderstanding that he tried to scramble into a sitting position.
“Kun wait- Agh!” His whole abdomen squeezed up in pain, and he quickly clutched the wound with a grimace.
“Hey,” Yuta was immediately at his side, one arm around his shoulders and the other over Doyoung’s hand held against the bandages. “Don’t push yourself this soon. You’re lucky you even survived the night.”
“I’m fine,” Doyoung forced out, but it didn’t sound convincing, even to his own ears. He doubted he would even be able to stand up for a few days if sitting up hurt this much. “Do you have water?”
Yuta scooted off the bed and walked over to the table in front of the windows, where he had a small pitcher of water and a few cups. Doyoung’s eyes caught on the muscles of his back as he walked, and the littering of scars that seemed to stretch from his shoulders all the way down to the waistband of his trousers.
Doyoung knew better than to ask about them, but with the sun making its way higher in the sky and giving the room sufficient light, he could see that they were products of whips – a common punishment for criminals just short of hanging.
Even with the overwhelming amount of scar tissue, Yuta’s back was strong, the lean muscles rippling and flexing as he reached his arms high above his head in a languid stretch. Doyoung followed the movements like a hawk starved for food and had to force himself to rip his gaze away when Yuta started to turn around so he wouldn’t notice Doyoung’s staring.
Yuta handed him the cup of water, which he took with thanks. He hadn’t realized how parched he was until the cool liquid ran down his throat, and then he was gulping it all down in one swallow, nearly coughing in the process.
“Someone’s thirsty,” Yuta commented lightly, taking the cup and going to refill it without needing affirmation from Doyoung. “I’m going to get dressed and call for Taeyong to come to take a look at you after I head out. How’s that sound?” He offered the refilled cup to Doyoung, who gulped it down just as quickly as the previous one.
“Okay,” Doyoung said simply once he had swallowed all of the water. “How long is your shift?”
“Only half a day,” Yuta answered, moving to rummage through the large trunk adjacent to the bed, haphazardly throwing pieces of clothing behind him as he went. “But I can stay out on the deck longer if you want to spend the day resting.”
“No, no, that’s not why I asked.” Doyoung gripped the cup in his hands tightly, not knowing how to phrase his next question. When Yuta paused his search to give him a curious look, Doyoung could only quickly avert his gaze as his neck flamed. “I was just wondering when you’d be done so I could ask if you wanted to go over the routes to Laogai, but if you don’t want to that’s totally acceptable!” He rushed out, not wanting to pressure Yuta into anything.
Yuta surprised him by walking over and lightly ruffling his hair. Doyoung could only blink up at him in shock. “I’d like that. Once Donghyuck takes over for me I’ll retrieve all your charts from Johnny’s quarters and bring them here so we can work comfortably, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Doyoung agreed with a mumble. He was sure that if his hands weren’t curled around the cup they would be slightly shaking, his whole body on fire and thrumming from Yuta’s touch and his gaze.
“Wonderful,” Yuta cheered, going back to dressing himself for the day. He was swift in putting on all his clothes but left a huge mess in his wake that had Doyoung upturning his nose, but he didn’t say a word.
In just a few minutes Yuta was slipping on his boots and walking to the door. “I’ll send over Taeyong as soon as I see him,” Yuta called with one last smile on his shoulder. “Don’t move from that spot until he arrives, you hear me?”
Doyoung rolled his eyes, a fond smile playing on his lips. “You should be more worried about what Kun will do to you if you’re any later than you already are.”
Yuta grimaced at that and quickly nodded his head. “You’re right. I’ll be back soon! Rest up!” And with a flurry, he was gone, the door closing shut behind him.
Doyoung finally allowed himself a moment of relaxation, slumping his shoulders forward as he took a few deep breaths. It did nothing to calm the racing of his heart, but he had settled that with Yuta around, his heart would always beat a little faster than usual.
His thoughts flashed back to last night, to the gentleness of Yuta’s care, the soft look in his eyes, and the small smiles he sent Doyoung’s way. The way he had admitted to watching Doyoung when he wasn’t looking, how he loved Doyoung’s smile… Doyoung had to cover his face with his hands, unable to take the embarrassment that came with that particular memory. Even worse was when he remembered the way he had kissed Yuta’s cheek! He must’ve really been out of it to do such a thing, but it comforted him knowing Yuta didn’t look off-put by it, but almost a little starstruck even.
Doyoung’s feelings were a mess, more jumbled up than a fishnet after a thunderstorm. He was still wallowing in his embarrassment when the door opened once more to Taeyong, his medical kit under his arms.
“Do I even want to ask?” Taeyong asked once he was close enough to sit on the bed next to Doyoung.
Doyoung could only sigh, hearing the smugness in Taeyong’s tone. “Absolutely not.”
“Okay,” Taeyong agreed easily, but something in his voice told Doyoung he wasn’t completely off the hook, and they would definitely be revisiting the topic soon. “Yuta looked extra chipper today, wonder what could cause such a glow in his skin.”
Doyoung groaned loudly and fell back on the bed, the sound of Taeyong’s laughter ringing throughout the room as he went. It was going to be a long day.