Archive of Our Own

“You can stop fondling me now,” Hongjoong says snarkily. He’s been forced to stand still on his feet for a while now as Seonghwa fusses over him, hanging protective charms disguised as jewelry all around his clothes and hair. 

Outside of the dingy, dusty storage room they’ve found themselves in, the sun shines brightly along the Capital’s coastline. Hoards of people walk up and down the maze-like cobblestone roads of the markets, their voices mixing in with musical instruments and the shouting of the vendors. It’s a jungle of colorful buildings that Hongjoong doesn’t visit often. 

Seonghwa continues to fuss over him, clicking his tongue in annoyance when Hongjoong begins bouncing his legs in anticipation. “Sit still. I’m not done yet.” 

“Hurry up then,” Hongjoong turns his head towards him, his smile not fully stretching across his lips when he notices Seonghwa’s concentrated rage as he tries to clip on another protective charm at the end of Hongjoong’s ponytail. “I can fight my way through if push comes to shove, y’know.” 

Seonghwa clicks his tongue but lets him go. 

“I’ll wait here—” 

“You’ll go back to the ship and sail away until you reach the open sea,” Hongjoong insists. He pulls on the hood of his cape until it covers his head and most of his face. “I’ll come find you once I’m done.” 

Seonghwa huffs. He wants to argue. All in good nature, of course, Hongjoong knows that very well. No matter how much time they’ve spent sailing the seas of the Near and Far Beyond together, Seonghwa will always worry for every single one of them. But this isn’t the open sea — this is the Capital. Trapped inside the walls of the fortified citadel that houses the King’s Palace atop the highest hill, there’s nowhere for pirates like Hongjoong and Seonghwa to go unless they’re in disguise. They keep their visits limited to this city, preferably avoid it entirely as they’ve had quarrels with the Navy quite a few times for their faces to be remembered (and maybe even screen-printed on posters pinned to tree barks, but Hongjoong has never mentioned that to the rest of his crew. It only took him a few minutes to rip them off, anyways). 

But this time, their ship was almost threatened. A broody man, who looked furious at the fact that he even had to communicate with Hongjoong, had approached them a week ago at one of the coastal ports a few hours away from the King’s citadel. Before Hongjoong could react, the officer had pushed an envelope against his chest with intended force before huffing and walking away, his hoard of soldiers following suit. 

Hongjoong has been invited to the King’s Palace by His Highness himself. 

Hongjoong had presented the letter to his crewmates that night over a wooden table and several amber-colored bottles of booze. San had taken it upon himself to read the letter in an exaggerated mainland accent, forcing the rest of them to refer to him as ‘my lord’ until Seonghwa had had enough of him and his drunken ramblings. It was only after they’d washed down their rationality with rum that Hongjoong had announced to them that he wasn’t treating this as a joke – he would be meeting the King at the appointed time and place. 

They had been too stunned to speak. Wooyoung had found him that night in his room, pouty and still light-headed enough to slur his words. 

“We don’t n-need this,” he’d pointed towards the letter that Hongjoong was still holding . “If… if he wants to give us gold… there’s people who will give us double… so don’t…” by that point, his drunk map maker had leaned into his embrace, eyes fluttering lazily, “H-hand yourself over… to him…” 

Similar sentiments had been expressed from the rest of his crew. His quartermaster Seonghwa had remained silent in his disapproval until it was only him and their captain disembarking from their ship in the early hours of the morning, sneaking their way through the docks of the port until their feet finally stood on the ground of the Citadel for the first time in years. 

Now, Seonghwa stands with his back against the rundown walls of the abandoned shed they spent the better part of their morning in. His body hides just behind the faint divide of shadow and light as the sun filters through the broken glass windows. Silent, but ever present. 

“Well then,” Hongjoong says cheerfully, “I’ll see you around lunch.” 

“Hongjoong—” 

“Captain’s orders,” he winks. Seonghwa’s marble expression cracks just a little, his brows furrowing in frustration. 

“Don’t be late,” Seonghwa says. Be careful, he means. “If you get captured I’m not coming back to the markets to buy you out.” 

——— 

He doesn’t try anything funny in the beginning. 

He knows he’s going to be apprehended and restrained the moment the guards notice him trying to pass through the front gate. Even with the King’s letter in his flailing hand, he arrives in front of the entrance to the main hall escorted by a group of soldiers, all of which have their hands on him one way or another. Pirates aren’t necessarily welcomed by royalty, and Hongjoong didn’t expect anything different simply because the King beckoned him to the palace. In the split seconds it takes one of the guards to push the doors apart, Hongjoong fleetingly thinks about Seonghwa. He doesn’t want to imagine his quartermaster’s face if his fears end up being justified. 

Hongjoong is pushed inside the main hall all on his own and then the doors behind him draw shut. No other guards accompany him, and as far as he can tell when looking at the vast expanse of the room, no one seems to be standing between him and the King either. This isn’t what Hongjoong expected. 

And then Hongjoong looks up and sees a face devoid of any wrinkles, fine lines or gray hair. He sees a body that stands proud and tall, a slim figure adorned in light, youthful clothing and a crown that doesn’t hold heavy, dark jewels in its crevices but threads through the hair with thin wire like grapevine, colorful gemstones peeking through the tufts. 

“You’re not the King.” 

“How observant,” a voice matching his snark responds, and Hongjoong can’t help the upturn of his lips. 

“Have I been fooled, then?” he asks, “Because I was invited by the King, and here I am conversing with someone else. Should I call the guards—” 

“No!” the young man yells desperately. Gotcha, Hongjoong thinks. The young man, no doubt somewhat related to royalty, takes a step forward, “Please, don’t misunderstand me. The circumstances under which I could invite you here myself were near impossible…” 

Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. 

“Where is the King then?” 

The young man sighs in defeat. He takes another step forward and stops decidedly, as if to show this is as far as he’s willing to close the distance between them. Hongjoong clicks his tongue but begins to walk towards him, and the young man’s features become more discernible and clear with each step. His reddish brown hair is trimmed around the sides and fluffy on top, and his eyes are round and hazel. They hold youth and innocence in them, and Hongjoong almost feels bad for his predicament. 

“My father hasn’t been alive for some time now.” 

Oh, this is getting interesting , Hongjoong thinks. 

“So you’re the new King then?” 

“No, not yet,” the young man sighs. “There’s a process, you see. The coronation hasn’t happened yet, so by all rules and decrees I’m still the Prince.” 

This guy is truly an idiot, Hongjoong thinks. 

“Your formalities are so complicated and unnecessary,” Hongjoong quickens his step towards the Prince, feeling a rush of satisfaction within him when he sees the young man visibly flinch. Up close, Hongjoong can see the lightly dusted freckles all over the Prince’s pale face, his round lips parted mid-protest. With a swift motion, Hongjoong grabs the top of his crown and pulls it off his head — and places it on top of his own, right over his hood, “Whereas I can grab whichever crown I like and declare myself King right there and then. Isn’t that much simpler, Prince?” 

“Stop–” 

“Are you that naïve and sheltered to invite me here without a guard in sight?” Hongjoong laughs, and he finds he enjoys the way his voice verberates against the marble walls of the palace. “Or are you that ashamed to be seen by your people with a person like me? Is that it? You don’t want your people to find out you have dealings with the same vermin your family has been hunting down with every chance they get–” 

“I’m not like my father!” the Prince yells desperately, and it’s at that moment that Hongjoong notices there’s tears spilling down his youthful face. 

Whatever, Hongjoong huffs. He’s not going to feel guilty over this. 

The Prince falls to his knees, and Hongjoong yelps in surprise. There’s hands grasping at the fabric of his pants, and Hongjoong gets the instinctual urge to kick him. 

“Please,” he begs, sobbing, “You’re the only one that can help me.” 

Hongjoong lets him hold onto his clothes as he breaks down. He looks pathetic but harmless, unlike the rest of his family. Sighing, he kneels down to meet him at eye level and places the crown on top of the Prince’s head without much care. 

He notices the split second that the Prince comes to the realization of who Hongjoong really is. That the rumors he’d heard about the pirate who was both merfolk and human, defying both natures by leading a ship full of rascals, defectors and criminals across the seas, bound by no country and no laws, were indeed true. 

The Prince takes in his unnatural features – the yellow eyes that glow even in the deepest depths of the ocean, the sharp teeth that others like Hongjoong haven’t had the chance to keep, captured by violent fishermen and worn around their necks like a prize; no, Hongjoong has kept all his teeth, his eyes, his pointy ears, his sharp nails, the gills on either side of his neck, the chartreuse scales that appear on his shoulders and melt perfectly into his human skin, as if the magic running within him wasn’t a fault of nature but a perfectly harmonious accident. The pirate who cannot be sunk, because he’s made of the water himself. 

“I could also kill you without much effort,” Hongjoong reasons, “You know, having no one here to protect you isn’t very smart, Prince.” 

The Prince’s body shakes with tears, and despite all signs and warnings that Hongjoong has been trying to instill into him the young man leans towards him, searching for a shoulder to cry on. He reminds him of San, who kicks and thrashes around when he cries and needs to sob and cry as much as he can before he calms down. In this case, Hongjoong doesn’t make a move to comfort him but doesn’t move away either. 

“You have no will to fight me,” Hongjoong sighs. He pushes his finger into the Prince’s shoulder, and the young man moves with the touch like a ragdoll, “You’re either egregiously desperate or incompetent. Get up.” 

The Prince follows his command like a well-trained dog, and that pisses off Hongjoong even more. He had been prepared to fight his way through the palace walls, to look the King in the eye and spit on his face before he’d even entertained the thought of listening to what he had been summoned for. To be met with a person as pathetic and meek as this Prince… Hongjoong laments the wasted time he spent sneaking around the Citadel. 

“Alright. You said I’m the only one who can help you…” 

A sniffle. “Yes.” 

“Name your price.” 

“I-I’m sorry?” 

“Go on, Prince,” Hongjoong says, “What are you willing to give me?” 

“Don’t you wish to know what–” 

“It’s of little importance to me,” Hongjoong waves his hand, “I wanna hear your offer for me. It better be something good, or else I would have wasted even more time talking with you–” 

“Anything you want.” 

“Don’t be vague,” Hongjoong scoffs. “Name something specific, because you do not want me to start naming the things I want–” 

The Prince’s hand reaches out to grab him for the first time. His palm grips Hongjoong’s arm tightly, so suddenly that Hongjoong doesn’t have time to react. And when he looks at the Prince, he sees a face that’s stained with tears and desperation. 

And Hongjoong doesn’t know anything about royalty, but he does know desperation. 

“I don’t care what you’ll ask of me,” the Prince whispers, eyes dark and brimming with tears, “But you’re the only one who can help me. Please .” 

——— 

The Prince’s name is Seungyoun, and until the day of his coronation as King he’s being overseen by a council of noblemen who watch over his every move in the hopes of catching him in the wrong and prevent the ceremony. Prince Seungyoun tells him so in detail in a whispery tone as he leads Hongjoong through the hallways of the palace, a place so grand yet empty of life. It’s nothing like Hongjoong’s home, in fact it doesn’t resemble a home at all. 

The only semblance of warmth is the one exuding from the candles all over the Prince’s chamber — an otherwise dark and somber room, the place that houses the answer to the Prince’s peculiar but desperate behavior. 

“This is Maddox,” Seungyoun tells Hongjoong. The name falls from his lips like a prayer. He leans over the oak bed frame — there’s a young man, seemingly and peacefully asleep. His dark hair curls towards his shoulders, hands held in front of his chest in a serene position. If it wasn’t for his deathly pale skin and dark circles under his eyes, Hongjoong would have thought the young man was dreaming. 

“He’s…” 

“Not dead,” this time, Seungyoun hesitates to form the word, “He’s ill. His condition worsened and worsened until one night he fell asleep and then never woke up again,” his voice trembles as he reaches out to pet the man’s hair, smoothing the silky locks over the pillow. Maddox doesn’t react to the touch. The only indication that he’s still alive is the steady rising of his chest with each breath. There’s no perspiration on his skin to indicate a fever, either. He resembles a porcelain doll, forever immortalized in a peaceful, sleeping state. 

“This looks like magic,” Hongjoong says with certainty. Judging by Seungyoun’s reaction, this is no news to him. 

“When he was being looked after by the physicians, they diagnosed him with fatigue. As his symptoms worsened, they kept coming up with different explanations for his conditions even though none of them explained why he fell sick and how we could treat him. When… when he fell asleep, there was little to be done other than care for him and his body while we waited for him to wake up… And then, one night, one of the cooks approached me and told me that the Prince’s Knight wasn’t ill because of a malady, but because someone must have bewitched him.” 

Hongjoong remains quiet while Seungyoun cries softly. He sees him threading his fingers through Maddox’s hand, the Knight’s arm pliant like a ragdoll before it drops against his chest once again. 

“I understand,” Hongjoong says, truthfully and without bite. Whether the Prince’s heart has been weak because of his upbringing or has weakened because of his beloved’s suffering, Hongjoong knows that the turmoils of the heart do not distinguish between royals and commoners. “Do you know who did it?” 

The Prince lets out a bitter laugh, “Even if my suspicion is correct, as it stands now there’s little I can do. I worry most about getting rid of the curse.” 

“You should ask a healer,” Hongjoong advises him, “I know people like you despise healers and anything that has to do with magic, but if he’s fallen victim to a curse you need to bring a healer in.” 

“I’ve… asked around,” Seungyoun says. Wiping the tears from his cheeks, he presses a soft kiss on Maddox’s forehead before he smooths his hair against the pillow. “I invited five different healers from the surrounding counties, sneaked them in in the middle of the night so that the elders wouldn’t see me. For hours I left him with them, only for them to tell me the only way he’d get better was…” he takes a pause then and sighs. “This is where you come in.” 

——— 

“Ah!” Yunho’s surprised yelp reaches Hongjoong’s ears even when he’s underwater, “Is that you, Hongjoong?” 

“Were you expecting someone else?” Hongjoong chuckles once his head is out of the water. The underground stream that runs under the Citadel and leads to Yunho’s cave is always refreshingly cool and pleasant to swim through, significantly boosting his mood after having to walk on his feet all day with his cloak on. 

“At least I’m used to you startling me like this,” he hears Yunho say as he gets out of the water up to his waist, sitting at the edge of the stream with his legs still in the lake. “What if I was treating someone right now? You would have scared them…” 

His poor attempt at scolding him doesn’t go through Hongjoong, “Well, I’m sure you would have nursed them back to health regardless. Are you implying I’m scary?”

Hongjoong leans over to look at his reflection in the water. With a cocky smile, he begins pushing his long hair behind his pointy ears. The wet locks give way to the gills on either side of his neck that give away the true state of his nature, of who he really is. Sharp nails thread through light brown tufts of hair that he devotes some time to fix his braid neatly. His glowing yellow eyes are reflected in his mirror image that gets disrupted by the gentle rippling of the water. 

“Of course not!” Yunho gasps, “I would never think that.” 

When Hongjoong looks up, he finally meets the healer’s face – it’s been a while since the two of them met each other, but Yunho is no stronger to abrupt encounters with him. After all, Hongjoong mostly seeks him out in circumstances such as these. 

Yunho has an embrace full of scrolls and books, his blond hair tangled and tufts of it sticking up in all directions. He’s tall and long-limbed, pale milky skin even under the yellowish afternoon light that peeks into the cave. Hongjoong always meets him when he’s in the middle of something, always busy helping others or organizing his library or cleaning up the place, making the most out of the unfriendly grotto he’s made his home right at the edge of the coastline, where the crashing waves mold and erode the edges of the rocks for millennia. 

“Let me treat you to some tea,” Yunho says. 

Hongjoong finally gets out of the water and walks towards Yunho’s workspace. Like always, there are burning candles melting onto the rocks and a potent aroma from burning herbs that gives him a calming, soothing feeling. Yunho gets visits from all sorts of humans and non-humans, people who have nowhere else to turn to when it comes to dealing with magic. 

“It’s been a while since the last time you visited me,” a cup of rose tea is placed in front of him, and Yunho joins him with a cup of his own, “How have your journeys been?” 

It’s warm and flowery on Hongjoong’s tongue, the color of it similar to the flush on Yunho’s skin under the candlelight. His hair has grown longer, a buttercup blond that curls around his nape and falls gently to frame his face, the tips of it reaching his jaw. It has indeed been a long time since Hongjoong saw him, and he finds his heart fluttering as he notices the details on Yunho’s face. 

He recounts the adventures him and his crew lived through during the past couple of months – the times when San and Wooyoung got into fights over map-making that lasted weeks and Jongho had to step in for the reconciliation, the markets and pavillions they visited in lands unknown, the people who welcomed them with open arms and baskets of fruit and the ones who chased them out of the ports, the storm that left them stranded for days and the outrageous number of times something fell into the sea and Hongjoong had to swim to the bottom of the ocean to get it back. 

“Ah, I wish the past six months of my life were as exciting as yours,” Yunho sighs longingly, looking towards the open sea. The sun has begun to go down and there’s only remnants of leaves in the bottom of their cups. “I assume since you’ve visited me again there’s another adventure waiting for you.” 

“You’d be correct,” Hongjoong says, “But I need your help first.” 

——— 

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like this before,” Yunho murmurs shyly.

He’s holding Maddox’s hands in his, feeling the cold weight of them in his palms. He turns towards the Prince, who’s standing by the bed with his arms crossed in front of his chest, lips bitten red.

He gives Seungyoun a comforting smile, “Not to worry… My expertise is dealing with the unknown and the arcane,” his face is soft, cheeks doughy like freshly baked bread, and Hongjoong notices the way Seungyoun’s gaze lingers, just for a moment, captivated by Yunho’s natural ability to comfort people, “I figure not many people seek me out for mundane issues. I’ll do my best.”

“Then I suppose I shouldn’t shy away from sharing my findings,” the Prince continues, “I was told that there is this rarity… an object crafted from magic itself that heals the untreatable, cures the cursed and brings salvation to the anathematized. Something that could nurse him back to health no matter the spell he was bewitched with.” 

“Ah, wouldn’t that be nice,” Hongjoong says, “You’re looking for a panacea.”' 

“It exists,” Seungyoun insists, “Say, healer, haven’t you heard of this before?” 

“Ah,” Yunho chuckles awkwardly. Despite his tall frame, he visibly shrinks under the Prince’s gaze, fingers playing with the long strands of his blond hair nervously. “I cannot say that I’ve heard of this object you’re talking about. In legends, perhaps. Tales and stories carried from person to person born out of hope for eternal life.” 

“But, you’re a healer,” Seungyoun insists, “You’re supposed to be well-versed in all things magic and arcane—” 

“Even magic has its limits,” Hongjoong decides to step in, feeling himself growing hot in his temper. He shouldn’t have bothered with this spoiled brat in the first place; swayed by his tear-jerking tragedy of romance. Despite everything, he’s still a royal. “I understand you’re used to getting everything handed to you on a silver platter—” 

“Please,” Yunho steps in between them, his big frame contrasting the gentle timbre of his voice, “Hongjoong is correct, my Prince. Magic does have its limits, its rules and regulations. But simply because something’s unknown to me that doesn’t mean it’s not true. The world is vast and plentiful, after all. What more have you heard about this object?” 

The Prince exhales a deep breath, face smoothening into a neutral expression that makes Hongjoong sour even further, like an unripened grape. 

“Supposedly, it’s shell-shaped. Some say it’s an actual shell belonging to the animal who’s hosted within it, others say it’s been crafted to resemble one through bewitched blacksmithing. They say it’s made out of nacre all around, and whatever is kept inside of it is the key to eternal life, to perfect health, to prosperity.” 

“Sounds too good to be true,” Hongjoong insists, but makes sure to intervene before Seungyoun acts out again. “But I’m an honorable man, and I don’t back down when I’ve said I’m going to offer my services for the appropriate reward. So, tell me, where should I head towards to find this shell? Is there a royal family I must battle to death to retrieve it, because that’s going to raise the price by a lot—” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know,” Hongjoong repeats. "Well, do people have a name for it?” 

“No…” Seungyoun murmurs, “I don’t know what its name is, and I don’t know where it is, if it’s an artifact that someone owns already I mean. The healer who gave me this information told me that the local legends say it’s a shell, but another told me it’s in the shape of a vase and another mentioned it could be a box—” 

“So, to be clear, you want me to fetch you an item that you don’t know if it exists, you don’t know what it looks like, you don’t know what people call it, and you don’t know where in the world it could be.” 

“Yes.” 

——— 

“He’s a fucking lunatic!” 

The sun has already begun to set and the walk back to the port is longer than expected, but Yunho offered to accompany him back to the shore and Hongjoong wasn’t willing to abandon him in favor of jumping into a nearby stream and swimming through the shortcut. Thankfully, the path they’ve been walking follows the Citadel’s fortifying walls, and at this hour of the evening not a lot of people frequent these areas, so Hongjoong has opted not to conceal his identity with his cloak. 

“I’m sure that’s not the most egregious bounty you’ve ever been assigned to,” Yunho laughs. The cool breeze that passes by him makes the airy fabric of his clothes and his shawl flow with the ripples of the wind. He looks calm. Serene. Like he always does. Hongjoong doesn’t remember one instance where Yunho has lost his composure, and the encounter with that spoiled Prince was no exception. He didn’t even remember Yunho’s name once. “You agreed to it, did you not?” 

“Of course I did,” Hongjoong sighs, “If anything, it’s to satisfy my morbid curiosity. Although the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced those healers led him on with promises of false hope.” 

“And yet here you are.” 

“And yet here I am,” Hongjoong sighs, kicking a small rock with his shoe as an outlet for his frustration, “Following a lead about an object I know nothing about at the behest of a spoiled prince who wants to use it for his lover. Does he not know how futile this is? I might never find it, and his boyfriend might never wake up.” 

“You’re still going, though.” 

Hongjoong smirks, “What are you implying, Yunho-yah?” 

At his tone, Yunho’s smile grows bigger. “That you’re not as heartless as you make yourself out to be to strangers, captain.” 

“I have no heart for royals,” Hongjoong declares. “As if he’s the only one who’s laid awake at night next to his dying lover. That’s something common folk do every day, and for them I’d make this journey a thousand times over with no charge.” 

“The Prince is willing to give you anything you wish.” 

“And I told him he should do no such thing because there’s no certainty I’ll find what he wants,” Hongjoong says, “If anything, I’ll charge him a couple thousand gold coins for the trouble and demand his sailors stop trying to sink my ship every time they see it.” 

Hongjoong realizes he’s growing hot with his temper again, but when he looks towards Yunho he sees the healer giggling into his palm. The delicate crystals woven into thin strands of his hair twinkle under the sunset, sparkling and multicolor. “W-what’s so funny?” 

“Nothing,” Yunho says, “I just missed you, that’s all.” 

Hongjoong grows hotter under his clothes. He’s going to need to dive into the water and swim next to the ship for a few miles into the open sea to calm down. “You missed me?” 

“You were gone for quite a few months,” Yunho murmurs, and Hongjoong can’t tell if the pink on Yunho’s cheeks is inherent or the twilight is playing tricks on him. “I thought I wouldn’t see you again for a while…” 

“I’d never…” Hongjoong tries to say, but his throat feels surprisingly tight. He clears his throat, averting his gaze towards the patches of grass on the ground, “I always return to my friends. You are my friend, Yunho-yah. Even if I am across the ocean, at the ends of the Near and Far Beyond, I always come back for my friends. And I promise to come back to you once I complete this journey, too.” 

“I really appreciate that,” Yunho tells him with a shy, reserved smile. “I’m glad you came back to see me. I missed you a lot. It… it can get lonely, where I live. I will anticipate your return.” 

“But people visit you every day, don’t they?” 

“They do, and I’m grateful for that… They come to me at times of need, keep me company at their darkest moments and once they’re feeling healthy and hopeful they’re off to live their own lives. I’m happy for them, I really am,” Yunho says as he looks away, playing nervously with his fingers. They’ve made their way down to the docks, Hongjoong realizes. 

“But, to sail across the oceans, bound by no masters nor borders, to live a life of adventure and chasing treasure on great adventures,” Yunho speaks, each word making his eyes widen and his voice grow fonder, hungrier, as if he sees the unknown lands that bear strange fruit and shiny trinkets right in front of his eyes while he stares into the great horizon, “That sounds like a life worth living.” 

“Come with me,” Hongjoong blurts out. He doesn’t realize what he’s just said until Yunho is turning to look at him with a bewildered expression, eyes wide, “T-this great adventure that you speak of… it sounds like something you really want to experience. Come with me, Yunho. Don’t wait for me to come back, join me—” 

“Are you sure?” Yunho asks. He sounds breathless. “I mean, how can I — what would I even do…” 

“You would be part of my crew for this treasure hunt,” Hongjoong insists, not caring if he’s running his mouth and not thinking straight. Even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to stifle this explosive sensation that’s thrumming in his heart right now, and his mouth moves to obey it much faster than his brain, “We—we need a healer. Of course we do. Didn’t you say you wanted to experience an adventure?” 

“You need my help?” 

“No one handles magic like you do,” Hongjoong says, “You… you heard the Prince’s story firsthand, too… It would be a pleasure to have you on board for this journey, Yunho.” 

And then, Hongjoong reaches out and takes Yunho’s hand. His own palm feels clammy and Yunho’s hand is much bigger than his, but the pirate threads their fingers together and holds it tightly, and he looks up knowing, for some inexplicable reason, that he hasn’t wanted something as much as this in a while. 

Yunho smiles — at first shy, and timid, but then his lips curve and it grows into something bigger, until his bright teeth appear and an excited laugh escapes him. 

“I’ll come with you, Hongjoong.” 

“Great!” Hongjoong says, barely able to contain his enthusiasm, “Just one little thing to keep in mind, however. I told Seonghwa to keep the ship away from the docks because the Navy would blow it up at first chance, so we’ll have to swim quite a bit to reach it. Also, I told him I’d be there around lunchtime and the moon is high, so he’s definitely going to be pissed.”

——— 

“You said you’d be here around lunchtime.” 

“I did say that,” Hongjoong confirms, ignoring Seonghwa’s stormy expression. Seawater splashes onto the wooden planks of the ship when he finally succeeds in climbing the rope ladder, but he doesn’t meet Seonghwa’s eyes just yet. He knows what he’s going to be met with anyways, but he hopes the newest addition to the crew will be enough to spare him from Seonghwa’s complaining. “Stuff happened. We have a new crew member!” 

“Aha… hello there, good evening,” Yunho huffs as he finally gets on the ship. He’s soaking wet and his robes are sticking onto his skin, lips almost blue. Hongjoong feels terrible — he often forgets his own differing nature after spending so much time amongst people who don’t treat him like he’s unnatural. “G-glad to be here.” 

“Yunho?!” Seonghwa gasps, rushing to help him, “What… what’s this about?” 

“I might have missed lunch,” Hongjoong says, “And I apologize for that. So I propose we answer your questions over dinner. How does that sound, officer?” 

Seonghwa shoots him an annoyed look that makes him chuckle, and then he turns to Yunho, tone significantly softer, “We need to dry your clothes and get you fed, poor thing. If I knew, I wouldn’t have listened to this idiot and sailed away from the docks.” 

“I-it’s alright,” Yunho insists, “Dinner sounds nice.” 

Hongjoong’s lips curve into a smile, “Welcome on board, Yunho!”

——— 

“So how do you two know each other again?” Wooyoung asks. It’s breakfast time and he’s undertaking his favorite task, cutting up fruit with his small knife and handing out slices to each crew member. Fruit is kind of a rarity to have on the ship, but whenever they do end up docking at a new city or village they enjoy a few weeks worth of the sweet, saccharine treats under the hot midday sun. This time, Yeosang brought back melons and apricots. 

“Well, uhm,” Yunho accepts the piece of apricot from Wooyoung’s calloused palm. It looks so juicy and sweet that he can’t help but stop his train of thought to take a bite. “I met Seonghwa when he was stationed in the Royal Navy. He had to make sure I didn’t use magic within the Citadel, or else I’d get arrested, so he advised me to operate somewhere on the coastline, and that he’d vouch for me should the Navy cause me any trouble.” 

“But then I whisked him away and Yunho met me too,” Hongjoong can’t help but butt in, even though everyone at the table knows that that’s a very simplified version of events as to how Seonghwa committed treason by saving Hongjoong’s life instead of handing him off to the King. Defying the King’s authority left Seonghwa with limited options, and chaperoning Hongjoong on a stolen ship across the oceans was the one he wanted the most, no matter how much he complains about the lack of organization on board. Collecting a few runaways, petty criminals and outsiders was inevitable. 

“I’m sorry I left you like that,” Seonghwa murmurs apologetically. His sincere words cause a loud cackle from the other end of the table, probably San. “I hope that those bullheaded naval officers didn’t cause you too much trouble in my absence.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Yunho insists, taking another piece of fruit from Wooyoung’s hand. It warms Hongjoong’s heart to see him talk so comfortably with the rest of the crew. He feels excited for how this adventure is going to play out. “The last year or so no one has visited me from the Navy. The whole palace has been dealing with the King’s illness and the potential coronation of his son.” 

“The King’s dead,” Hongjoong announces, “They’re keeping it a secret from ordinary citizens and low rank officers.” 

“It doesn’t surprise me. He was already quite old and ill when I was in the Navy,” Seonghwa mentions. “With age came cruelty…” 

“I wasn’t aware of his death,” Yunho says, “But I’m not surprised by it. Everyone was aware of his condition, but keeping his passing a secret is probably purposeful.” 

“So who’s ruling over the Citadel now?” Jongho asks. 

“From what I understood, there’s a council of royal advisors that scrutinize his every move and anticipate the moment they can catch him in the act to overthrow him,” Hongjoong explains. The apricots are perfectly ripe, he thinks as he takes a bite, “That’s why he didn’t invite me himself and used his father’s signature, and also why he didn’t have anyone in the room with him when I visited him.” 

“A bold move from someone as sheltered as him,” says Mingi. He’s yet to go to sleep, spending the entire night keeping guard up at the foremast, but he’s courteous as ever to their new crew member and decides to stay for breakfast. “Yunho, you should have some meat with that too,” he says, passing a plate full of cured meat in front of the healer. “So, what does he want from us?” 

“Well,” Hongjoong begins, “Supposedly, there’s this legendary panacea that will get rid of the spell that put his lover into a state of permanent sleep. He doesn’t know what it looks like, what its name is or where to find it. Some healer told him it might be something resembling a shell.” 

“Huh,” Wooyoung scoffs, “That sounds like fun. He’s just handing us gold like that, how kind of him.” 

“You don’t think something like that exists?” Yunho asks suddenly. 

Wooyoung pauses and leans back into his chair, putting one leg on the table despite Yeosang and Seonghwa protesting about him being crude. “I don’t claim I know everything about the world, and I certainly don’t know much about magic. But his description is vague and leaves enough room for someone to take advantage of his desperation to scam him. Now, I’m not saying I’d ever do that—” 

“Yes you would,” says Yeosang. 

“—But he’s inexperienced when it comes to dealing with outlaws.” 

“Please stop trying to scare away our new crew member,” Hongjoong scolds them, “I brought Yunho here with us because he’s a valuable member of this expedition. Stop ruining my reputation.” 

“But you scam people regularly—” 

“Breakfast is over, Wooyoungie,” Hongjoong announces when he sees Yunho’s awkward but amused expression, “Time for you to clean the quarterdeck.” 

“But I have work to do—” 

“San will manage just fine without you.” 

“Yes I will,” San agrees, “Don’t miss me too much, Wooyoungie!”

“We will continue this over lunch,” Seonghwa announces. 

——— 

Hongjoong hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Yunho’s presence until now. 

Their friendship has been one nurtured and sustained through distance. Hongjoong can’t visit him as much as he'd like, despite his promise to repay him for the kindness he showed that fateful night when he and Seonghwa were running away and needed a place to hide before leaving the Citadel completely. Yunho was there for them despite knowing he could get caught and tried with both of them for hiding fugitives. Hongjoong has let the guilt eat away at him throughout their travels, and even after exploring most of the Near Beyond he still keeps the thought of Yunho in the back of his mind, keeps memories and feelings in a cupboard in his heart and tells himself he’ll talk to Yunho all about them once they meet again. 

He hopes that this time will be different, now that Yunho’s here with them. 

“Captain,” Jongho’s gentle voice snaps Hongjoong out of his thoughts. Jongho is a sturdy fellow, whose big frame contradicts his gentle, soft-spoken cadence. Just by looking at him no one could ever guess that he was capable of sneaking into Hongjoong’s ship in the middle of the night, unnoticed for days until Hongjoong almost threw him off the plank. Their relationship has evolved since then, progressed enough for Jongho to look up to Hongjoong with adoration and respect, and for Hongjoong to reciprocate those feelings with fondness. “Can the healer really do magic?” 

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Hongjoong says. “He’s a member of our expedition, aren’t you interested to know if he’s actually capable of helping us or not?” 

“I trust your judgment,” Jongho says. His youthful face looks rosy under the midday sun. “You wouldn’t bring just anyone here. I’m just interested in the magic itself.” 

“Ah, right, your people don’t use magic at all, do they?” Hongjoong says. “You should go ahead and talk to him, he might be able to teach you some spells.” 

Jongho huffs at his teasing, “You know you’re born with magic, not anyone can—” 

“Oh trust me I do,” Hongjoong shows off the gills on his neck to make a point, “But Yunho deals with healing magic, so you might find yourself luckier in that regard.” 

Hongjoong busies himself for some time around the ship. He doesn’t want to stay around Yunho and hoard him all to himself. If this journey lasts for a while, he wants all of them to get along together, and he hopes he didn’t make a rash decision by asking Yunho to come with them without a second thought. 

The thought of leaving Yunho behind this time is something that, for some inexplicable reason, makes his heart twist into a knot. 

Later, when he makes it to the cabin, he finds San and Yeosang leaning over the working table. 

San and Wooyoung’s tools are spread haphazardly all over the paper boards. His cartographers are knowledgeable and efficient but the mess they leave behind is chaotic and permanent. They sometimes work for hours uninterrupted, silent as lines and curves are stretched over the paper with graphite, unintelligible scribbles mentioning coordinates, places, notable natural features to be wary of should their ship encounters them again. 

“I might have been mistaken,” Wooyoung says when he hears Hongjoong come in. He doesn’t look up from his work. When Hongjoong finally approaches them, he notices both of their hands are stained with ink and graphite. “Turns out your Prince’s tales of magical objects who do everything under the sun might have some truth to them.” 

“Is that so?”  

“Sannie says he remembers hearing about it a few months ago at The Salty Jester.” 

“I don’t remember half of the things that happened that night,” says Hongjoong. 

“How convenient. You almost gambled away our–” 

“We all did things we regret that night, cut to the–” 

“I overheard this conversation between the innkeeper and a customer,” San begins to recount. “So there’s a good chance this information might be the result of one too many cups of wine. The man was telling her about a friend of his who had fallen ill, and how they’d just finished praying for his recovery. He was feeling confident about it, since no bad omens appeared during the ritual. When she asked him which spirits they’d honored, he told her his people would often pray for good health and prosperity to this reclusive spirit that resided in the Far Beyond.” 

“Alright,” says Hongjoong, “How does this line up with—” 

“Legends say the spirit resides inside a treasure chest. Others say it’s a box, or a vase. It could very well be a shell.” 

Hongjoong squints at San. He can’t blame his cartographer for grasping at straws here; the Prince has sent them on an expedition with no valuable information with someone’s life on the line. He’s not going to blame San for being hopeful. Perhaps The Salty Jester is a good starting point. 

“We’re two days away from the inn,” he says. “Let’s start there. If we don’t find the man you’re talking about, the innkeeper might help us out. Gods know she hears stories like these everyday.” 

“Sounds like a plan. We could even spend the night there. Mingi told me there’s a storm coming soon and it better not find us in the open sea.” 

“No one’s drowning while I’m here,” Hongjoong says, half-jokingly. 

——— 

The Salty Jester is a crowded and boisterous establishment. Its wooden skeleton is weathered from the never-ending waves that crash into it and it smells like booze and bubbling fish stew from a mile away. It gathers all sorts of people, and since it doesn’t adhere to any magical bans like the surrounding islands and cities, Hongjoong is sure they’re much safer asking around about their desired treasure — and how true it stands to the legends that surround it. 

Yunho is delighted. Hongjoong has mostly left him to socialize with the other members of the crew, and he hopes that by now the healer has familiarized himself with their sometimes intense personalities. He knows Yunho has lived mostly a life of solitude, but he doesn’t learn that Yunho hasn’t left the Citadel ever since he was a young child until Yunho tells him himself. 

Yunho’s sheltered life shows its true consequences once the four of them — Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Yeosang are inside the inn and the first beakers of pansy beer arrive at their table. San and Hongjoong take it upon themselves to chat up the innkeeper, a voluptuous woman who has little time in her sturdy arms to hold a conversation and many angry voices requesting for more booze to hear their stories, but promises to return to their table once she finds the chance. 

The little time Hongjoong keeps his eyes away from him, Yunho has managed to make himself drunk on half a beaker of pansy beer. 

“Can’t hold your drink, Yunho-yah?” 

A wheezing giggle is all Hongjoong needs to confirm so, “S-sorry, just, I don’t think I’ve ever d-drunk—” 

“At all?” he can’t help his eyes bulging out. Then again, unless Yunho made it a point to purchase wine at the morning markets or visit the taverns of the Citadel, where else could he have enjoyed a cup of booze by himself? “Can’t you turn water into alcohol or something?” 

That earns him another wheezing cackle, so strong he’s sure Yunho isn’t breathing by the end of it. His soft cheeks are impossibly flushed, as well as his ears, and there’s tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Hongjoong squirms.  

“‘M a healer, H-hongjoong. Th-that doesn’t make sense… You think j-just because I-I can handle magic… that… I can do e-everything? C-can you turn water into b-beer?” he slurs. There’s a bit of drool collecting on the side of his mouth. 

“Well I can certainly handle my drink much better than you.” 

“Liar.” 

Hongjoong looks at him silently. Yunho attempts to reciprocate the expression before they both burst into laughter, “H-have more…” 

“Easy there…” Hongjoong says while Yunho pours more beer into his cup. Half of it ends up on the table. “Alright, listen. We’ll drink together, but you gotta slow down. For every two cups I down you’ll have one.” 

“B-but it’s good,” Yunho whines, “Tastes so s-sweet.” 

“I know it does, that’s why it’s all gone into that pretty head of yours,” Hongjoong says, tapping gently on Yunho’s forehead. 

It’s only when he sees Yunho’s cherry-red cheeks that he realizes what he’s just said. Well, it’s not a lie anyways. Yunho is pretty. 

He downs the next two cups of beer one after the other. 

The innkeeper finally joins them hours later, and Hongjoong is much drunker than he thought he would be, but not so much that he can’t hold a conversation. Yunho, on the other hand, has opted to lean into Yeosang’s shoulder, eyes fluttering and lips mumbling nonsense. It’s so endearing that Hongjoong has trouble concentrating. 

“Yeah, I remember that man,” she tells San, “He wasn’t from around here, in fact he was quite shocked that we let people other than humans in. Regardless, he kept chatting to me about his sick relative and that he was hopeful he was going to get better.” 

“Did he mention where he was from?” asks Yeosang. His left arm has circled around Yunho’s big frame, who’s curled close to him like he doesn’t surpass him in height when standing. 

“Somewhere near the Silver Frontier, I believe.” 

“And he made the journey all the way here?” 

“He’s a fisherman. They say the past few years have been dreadful, not enough fish to feed his people, so he makes trips across the Near Beyond to trade and fish around these parts.” 

“Did he tell you what the name of the spirit they prayed to was?” Hongjoong speaks up. 

She thinks about it for a moment before standing up and smoothing her apron, “I can’t recall it now, but if you boys get another round maybe I’ll remember. Got lots of work to do!” And with that, she sprints away to the kitchens as more customers crowd the bar. 

“Well that was unhelpful,” San grumbles. 

“Not necessarily,” Hongjoong interjects. A hiccup escapes him, “Whatever that spirit that’s trapped in a box—” 

“Shell,” Yeosang corrects him. 

“—Or shell, whatever, it’s a deity the people near the Silver Frontier worship. Our compass clearly points that way.” 

“Can we get something to eat?” Yeosang asks, “This one’s half-seas over already, and he’s only had a beaker.” 

“It’s his first time drinking,” Hongjoong says. 

“No shot,” San laughs. He reaches out and ruffles Yunho’s buttercup yellow hair gently with fondness, “How are you gonna be a pirate if you can’t handle your drink, Yunho?” 

“He’s only here for this expedition,” Hongjoong reasons. He doesn’t know why he even brings it up. But San turns to look at him with round, glassy eyes. 

“We’re not keeping him?” 

“He’s not a dog to keep, Sannie,” he says. “He’s a healer, he’s devoted his life to remedying others, not sailing the seas. He’s joining us for this mission and he’s going to be of great help.” 

San and Yeosang don’t broach the subject any further, and that makes Hongjoong mull over his own words until their pottage and stewed carp arrives. He does get snappy when he drinks on an empty stomach. The food is oily and hot enough to alleviate some of Hongjoong’s buzz from drinking too much too quickly. Fleeting looks in between bites fall on Yunho, who seems to have found his previous enthusiastic temperament at the sight of food and even more pansy beer. 

When they finish their dinner and more empty beakers fill the wooden table in front of them and someone from a nearby table dares to gamble with Hongjoong for the charms around his pointy ears, there’s only so much time for Yeosang to lift a thrashing captain on his shoulders and for San to charm his way into paying less before they’re exiting the crowded inn and stumbling onto the cobblestone street of the harbor. 

Some drunkard — ironic, because Hongjoong is also seeing double, — cozies up to Yunho’s body the moment they’re outside, whistling and demanding his attention. They might think he’s noble, judging by the flowing, delicate fabrics of his robes and shawls. The light blue color shines under the moonlight and his pale skin glows, almost pearlescent. 

Instinctively, and foolishly, Hongjoong gears up to run in between them, since Yunho’s initial reaction is one of uneasiness. He feels Yeosang’s big muscles tense right next to him too, and he’s sure he hears San draw his knife from his belt. 

But then, he witnesses Yunho lean close to the random stranger who’s approached him so improperly. He brings his large palm up, seemingly to caress his face, but he stops, just a few breaths away from touching him. 

A gust of flame erupts from his lithe fingers. The scent of something burnt fills the air, smoke sizzling into the atmosphere. Hongjoong is pretty certain the man’s eyebrows have disappeared. 

A moment of total silence and then it’s uproar once again. Passerbys and witnesses erupt in howling laughter and incoherent yelling, whereas the inebriated stranger who approached Yunho so crassly takes a few steps back, trembling with anger but mostly fear. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you—” 

“I told y-you to s-step away… and you d-didn’t,” Yunho slurs through his words, but his eyes are dark and gleaming, “Serves you right!” 

“I’ll make you search for your teeth on the ground—” 

“I’d like t-to see you try,” Yunho crosses his arms in front of his chest. This close, it’s obvious to everyone that he’s much taller than the other guy, almost towers over him with a scowl forming on his face, one that contradicts the rest of the delicate features of his appearance. “Y-you wanna see how f-flam… flammable you are?” 

His drunken stupor might falter his delivery, but the other seems intimidated regardless. 

“C’mon, go get him,” San tells Yeosang, and their blond crew-mate pushes the sleeves of his shirt up before sighing and walking towards the scene. He moves in between the crowd, mumbling polite apologies before gently grabbing Yunho from his waist and lifting him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Yunho yelps but doesn’t protest Yeosang’s ministrations. 

“What are you, some sort of seer or trickster, you freak—” 

“I’m a p-pirate!” Yunho drunkenly shouts as the four of them attempt to flee the scene, “A-and if you,” he hiccups, slurring his words into something incoherent, “…I-I’ll burn your whole f-face off!” 

“Fucking bitch—” 

The swift sound of Hongjoong’s brandished blade meeting the skin of his neck is enough to silence not only the drunkard but the surrounding crowd as well. Hongjoong sees the disgust on the man’s face when he notices Hongjoong’s inhuman characteristics despite the very sharp knife threatening to puncture his artery. 

“I think we’re done here,” Hongjoong says calmly. He doesn’t need to yell to get his point across. When the stranger’s eyes notices his sharp teeth, he smiles, showing them off, “They’re much sharper than this rusty knife. You don’t wanna find out, I assure you. Good evening, and keep your slimy hands to yourself next time.”  

When he finds the other three a few feet away, San and Yeosang stare at him with a look of disbelief while Yunho snores over Yeosang’s shoulder. 

Hongjoong laughs, “See, I told you he was going to be of great help.” 

——— 

Hangovers are something Hongjoong has learnt to cope with very well. His unnatural nature might have something to do with that, but he likes booze and in order to enjoy it to its fullest one has to learn how to hold their drink. Yunho, on the other hand, doesn’t take it too well. 

Poor thing looks groggy and grumpy the moment he wakes up the next day. From the moment their expedition has begun, Hongjoong has seen so many new sides to the healer that he didn’t know existed. Last night was certainly a surprise, and Hongjoong would be lying to himself if he said it didn’t make him feel kind of giddy inside to see Yunho so forward and unafraid to stand his ground. It contrasted his usual serene disposition, but then again it didn’t feel out of place for his character. It only made Hongjoong feel more regret that he hadn’t been as good of a friend as he’d claimed to be, missing so much of Yunho’s life and character in the months he spent away. 

“I’ve gotten drunk so many times with you,” Seonghwa’s deep voice startles him, “And yet you’ve never waited for me to wake up outside of my room for hours on end.” 

Hongjoong eyes drift from the wooden door to Yunho’s room to the floor guiltily. “Am I not allowed to feel sympathy and worry for the members of my crew? And why are you here anyway? Don’t you have a lover to bother or something?” 

“Jongho is sleeping,” says Seonghwa. Just then, the door swings open and Hongjoong jumps back, as if that will make him look any less suspicious of spending the whole morning in front of his room, waiting for Yunho to wake up, “Looks like there’s someone you can bother. Good morning Yunho-yah, how are you feeling?” 

Yunho towers over them, blond hair messy and unkempt, strands of it sticking out instead of curling around his ears and nape. His eyes are fighting to stay open and his face looks puffy with sleep and remnants of pansy beer. 

“I’ve felt better,” Yunho groans. 

“Do you remember last night?” Seonghwa asks him. 

“I do…” Yunho mutters, then turns to Hongjoong. His hand reaches out to hold his, and Hongjoong’s sure his heart skips a beat. “I really apologize for causing all that trouble…” 

“Never!” Hongjoong yelps, “I mean it, never apologize. We had fun. That asshole deserved getting his entire face burnt. I had no idea you could do that.” 

“It was… a spur of the moment thing.” 

“It was really cool, Yunho,” Hongjoong grabs his other hand, and now it’s Yunho’s turn to look surprised. Seonghwa has effectively disappeared somewhere, so Hongjoong doesn’t shy away from smiling up at him fondly, “I should’ve been a better captain and defended you properly, but it looks like you didn’t mind handling it on your own.” 

Yunho’s pouty lips form into a smile. He looks more awake now, more rosy. 

“But listen, if you want to be a proper pirate you gotta build up your alcohol tolerance.”

It’s enough to make Yunho laugh. Hongjoong smiles in satisfaction. 

“I’m gonna make myself a potion to treat the nausea,” says Yunho, “Now that I know what it feels like to be hungover, I should definitely make it stronger.” 

Yunho fits in their group like a piece they didn’t know was missing. Hongjoong insists that he uses whichever room he likes best to work his magic – the ship is old but there’s enough space for all eight of them to live comfortably. Still, Yunho decides he wants to use his own room to work on his spells, and the next few times their ship makes a stop at a small port Yunho comes back when it’s time to leave with a basket full of herbs, trinkets and other useful items the locals give him after he spends hours chatting them up. 

“They didn’t let me pay them,” Yunho pouts, handing back the gold coins Hongjoong had lent him from the shared treasury. “They said it would be enough if I could make them some salves and potions. I taught them some basic ingredient mixing too — it would be too rude not to, wouldn’t it?” 

Hongjoong takes in Yunho’s big, honest eyes, the considerate tone of his voice, the full pout of his lips. There’s many things he could say in return, the possibility of which leaves his heart racing and his tongue twisted. Instead, he reaches out and pets Yunho’s hair. Living on the ship for a few weeks now has slightly roughened its previous softness because of the salt, but it’s nevertheless a wonderful sensation. Judging by Yunho’s fluttering eyes, he appreciates it too. 

“You did well, Yunho-yah.” 

——— 

While their ship sails closer and closer to the Silver Frontier the eight of them spend their time productively. 

At a certain point in the ocean of the Near Beyond the clusters of islands become rarer and scarcier. They’ve planned for this, of course, stocked up on dry foods and booze and medicine and – well, Seonghwa is much better at remembering these things than Hongjoong is. In case of an emergency, Hongjoong tells himself he can always swim the distance with zero issues. Perks of being half-fish, as Mingi calls him. It’s an inside joke, because Mingi realizes there’s complexities and anomalies behind Hongjoong’s uncanny nature. 

“Hongjoong isn’t actually a fish,” says Yunho innocently the first time he hears the nickname. It’s a late afternoon and the weather has been perfect the past couple of days, with just enough wind to accompany them while they sail. There’s a light breeze now that the sun is starting to set, casting its orange and purple hues onto the rippling waves. The eight of them sit at the deck, remnants of their dinner in front of them, cheeks slightly rosy from enjoying some rum. “I would boldly make the claim that he’s closer to a siren.” 

“What’s a siren?” Mingi asks inquisitively. 

“Magical creatures who lure sailors in with their singing and eat their flesh,” says Jongho. Hongjoong laughs and their youngest immediately gets red in the face, “What, is that not what they do? That’s what I’ve heard.” 

“Well it’s a good thing you’ve got me as your captain then,” Hongjoong huffs proudly, “If we ever run into any sirens I can just outsing them.” 

“Do you sing?” Yunho’s tone is one of genuine innocence. San laughs so hard he falls to the floor and Wooyoung almost joins him, slapping his knee while he heaves. 

“Please don’t make him sing,” Yeosang pleads. 

“I’m gonna throw you off the ship.” 

Cleaning up is a team effort, but some of them are excused much sooner than others. Mingi returns to his post for the night and the rest go to sleep per Hongjoong’s request, because it’s also his turn to stay awake and be responsible. The stars are particularly bright tonight, so Hongjoong doesn’t mind one bit. 

Before he’s immersed into thoughts of mapping and planning routes and thinking of alternatives lest the information they receive ends up being a false flag, he hears rustling behind him. He turns around, ready to affectionately scold any of the other members for bothering him when he’s supposed to be en guard – and there’s Yunho, shyly smiling at him. 

“Yunho-yah?” 

“Having trouble sleeping,” says Yunho. “Would you mind if I spent some time with you?” 

“Please, be my guest. There’s not much to do anyways. Our journey is still calm.” 

“Is that supposed to be ominous?” Yunho laughs gently, “Is there a storm coming?” 

“No, I don’t mean to scare you,” Hongjoong says worriedly, “The beginning of the journey is always kind of slow. Boring. Calm. I’m honestly reserving my excitement in case the innkeeper’s information turns out to be false.” 

“And if that happens?” 

“Then we continue searching and reroute. This might take months,” Hongjoong says. He begins walking around the deck, motioning for Yunho to follow him. It’s a quiet night, so he hopes Mingi isn’t too bothered by the sound of them walking around the wooden planks. For some reason, he wants to cherish this conversation without prying eyes. “I’m afraid you might have signed up for a longer journey than you might have thought.” 

“That’s more than okay,” Yunho smiles, “I’m part of the crew now, captain.” 

Hongjoong finds himself feeling warm. They walk around the deck for a few moments before finally reaching the stern of the ship. A long tail of burbling, foamy waves stretches for miles on the water. 

“It’s so quiet when we’re so far away from the coastline,” Yunho murmurs. “It feels like we’re the only ones in the universe. It’s… lonely.” 

Hongjoong doesn’t respond. He studies Yunho’s features while the other looks towards the horizon. His lips are pouty and his eyes gleaming with a longing, yearning feeling. Staying on the ship has reddened his cheeks and his nose, yet his skin looks as pearlescent as ever under the moonlight. He looks like a figurehead on a nobleman’s ship, an effervescent, timeless figure that holds wisdom and understanding beyond his years. 

“But I don’t feel alone,” Yunho continues. “I know that the others are sleeping right now in their rooms. Someone is going to get hungry in the middle of the night and sneak into the storage room, or knock on my door if they have a headache. I’m less alone than I’ve ever been. It feels nice.” 

Hongjoong’s throat feels tight. 

“I haven’t been a good friend to you. I spent too much time away from you, Yunho-yah.I’m sorry. I hope I can make it up to you…” 

Yunho gives him a smile, “It’s alright. You’ve been a great friend, Hongjoong. You never forgot about me no matter how much time passed and you’ve always visited me. I’d rather wait for you forever than never see you again.” 

Hongjoong averts his gaze, squirming. He digs his nails into his palms. He hears Yunho giggle. 

“And don’t apologize. I know it’s dangerous to visit me, you and Seonghwa both. I’m really grateful to be here.” 

They sit next to each other in silence for a while. A thousand thoughts race through Hongjoong’s mind in the meantime. He’s not used to being stunned, to have someone reach out and touch his heart without them realizing its effect. He’s loud and intrusive and grabs his crew members by the ear when they get into fights and he lets the others win physical altercations because he’s scared he’s going to overpower them by accident. He makes the extra steps. But with Yunho, he doesn’t have to. Yunho has already met him where he stands. 

“About what you said before,” Hongjoong mutters in an effort to break the silence, “Feeling like we’re alone in the universe. It might seem like that on the surface, but underwater it’s an entirely different world.” 

“Under the sea?” 

Hongjoong nods. 

Yunho’s round eyes bulge out in surprise. He leans over as far as he can, staring at the rippling waves with newfound interest, as if he can see past the wine-colored surface of the water. 

“Does the sea at night scare you?” Hongjoong asks. 

“I’ve never thought about it much,” Yunho mumbles, mind far away as if the possibilities of Hongjoong’s suggestion have captivated him. “I want to see.” 

“What do you– Yunho?” 

Hongjoong’s voice fades away at the sight in front of him – long arms reach at the back of the nape, untying the pale silk shawls and robes that cover his body, until the fabric that caresses his skin falls apart like smoke, falling to the wooden planks with a silent puff. Yunho stands in front of him completely naked, tall and pale like sugar dipped in milk and he’s supple , long limbs tensing as he grips onto the deck railing and pulls himself up – and then he jumps. 

He splashes with force loud enough to echo into the night. Foam bubbles up and then, from the abyss of the dark sea, his head pops out with blond hair soaking and matted onto his face. 

“It’s so cold!”

“Yunho!” Hongjoong cries out, “What are you doing?” 

“I want to see! Come show me, Hongjoong!” 

Hongjoong sighs. It’s not enough time to recover from the shock of watching Yunho strip down in front of him and seeing his naked body, the curves of his figure and the delicate details, but he hopes the cold water shocks him enough to dismiss any warmth that brews in his loins — so he jumps as well. 

Hongjoong doesn’t think he’ll ever make anyone understand this feeling. Whereas the untamed waters provoke fear even to the most skilled fishermen and sailors, Hongjoong welcomes the enveloping velvet of seawater as his home, as part of him. Once he’s under the surface he takes a deep breath, gills fluttering excitedly. His yellow eyes work great over the surface but best into the water. The darkness of the night doesn’t hinder his ability to see it all; the schools of fish passing by in the thousands, their silver scales only rarely catching rays of moonlight; the colorful corals and crustaceans lining the ocean floor that remind Hongjoong of the buildings back in the Citadel; the squirming anemone that flutter with the current, home to so many small animals. Everywhere Hongjoong looks he meets eyes similar to his: glowing and observant, inhuman and vigilant. 

When he turns around, he meets Yunho’s body. 

His head is over the surface, arms and legs moving so that he floats in the same position. Hongjoong feels his throat tighten, as if that’s something possible to happen to him underwater. His collarbones lead the way towards his chest and his long torso, the curve of his waist and the soft skin of his belly. His thighs are in constant motion, and Hongjoong is sure if he were to hold them his fingers would sink in just a little. Hongjoong averts his gaze when Yunho kicks open his legs in order to float and he’s met with Yunho’s cock under a curly patch of pubic hair. 

He’s beautiful — Hongjoong has always considered Yunho to have a sort of statuesque beauty because of his serene disposition, but seeing him now in this voyeuristic way makes him realize how wrong he’s been. Because underneath the silk robes and his gentle attitude, Yunho holds a kind of beauty that’s tangible, that’s human. His body curves in places where someone would wrap their arm around to hold him close. Hongjoong wants to do that. To reach around Yunho’s body and squeeze, feel the warmth that radiates from his flesh, feel the goosebumps that might occur on his skin, take advantage of their height difference to bury his face into the crook of Yunho’s neck and sigh as Yunho hugs him back with his long arms. 

He comes up to the surface with significant distance between them. 

“Why did you take all of your clothes off?” Hongjoong can’t help but ask. 

“They take forever to dry, it’s a nuisance… Ah, but It’s so cold!” Yunho whines. “And so dark, I can’t see a thing!” 

“Humans’ sight is rather lacking in this case,” Hongjoong explains, “It might be too dark for you to notice anything…” 

“But I’m not wholly human,” Yunho says. He swims closer to Hongjoong, until their bodies bump under the surface. Hongjoong squirms. He knows he can’t drown, but part of him wishes he could to escape how irrefutably aroused he is. “I’m a healer, remember? There’s magic within me too.” 

“Magic has its limitations,” says Hongjoong, “You were the one who said that.” 

“Magic has its limitations,” Yunho agrees, “And I’m all too used to testing them.” 

He grabs Hongjoong’s hand, takes a deep breath and dives in. 

Immediately, Hongjoong panics. Yunho can’t breathe underwater like he does. He sees the way Yunho’s lips are pursed and his eyes open tentatively under the surface, blinking rapidly and getting startled when he notices Hongjoong’s glowing eyes. He swims closer and Hongjoong acts instinctively, wrapping both of his arms gently around Yunho’s waist, fitting his chest to his back. It must be terrifying for him – healer or not, he knows Yunho can’t see what Hongjoong can with his inhuman vision. He’s surrounded by darkness and Hongjoong knows it isn’t enough but he hopes Yunho feels a little safer having his arms around him. His body feels as soft as Hongjoong imagined it would be. When Yunho’s arms come to rest over his, Hongjoong does his best to avoid squeezing him too tightly. He doesn’t want to let go. 

He has to, soon. Yunho is going to have to come up for air and Hongjoong is going to have to let him go. 

Suddenly, he feels Yunho’s chest expand, as if he’s taking a deep breath. 

“Yunho?” He cries out when he realizes Yunho is attempting to breathe underwater. He grips Yunho’s waist, ready to swim towards the surface. Mind racing, he worries that Yunho was too careless and eager and ended up gulping down water without realizing. 

“Hongjoong?” 

Without a doubt, it’s Yunho’s voice – it’s Yunho talking and breathing as if he shares Hongjoong’s nature, as if he has gills and inhuman eyes and scales on his skin. Hongjoong is stunned, eyes bulging wide. 

“Hongjoong, look…” 

It’s difficult to pull his eyes away from Yunho, who’s speaking and breathing as if he was born to do so. When he does look around, however, he notices the myriad of fish and sea animals who pass by them, giving them curious stares. Then, he notices the glowing ring around them — it’s translucent and iridescent, as if the two of them are enclosed in a protective, glowing bubble of magic. 

It must be magic, because Yunho is breathing and speaking despite being underwater. Hongjoong is so afraid to let go, afraid that the bubble will pop and Yunho will be in danger. So he holds him tighter, fitting his body behind Yunho’s until their figures curve naturally to each other’s edges. Yunho, on his behalf, holds onto Hongjoong’s arm and motions his legs to keep floating. 

“Yunho, you’re… you’re breathing and talking —” 

“I don’t know how I did that, I— Hongjoong, look!” 

Yunho must be seeing the thousands of fish and animals that swim around them, who pay them attention but never stay a lot and opt to swim away after a moment or two. He must be able to see the rays of the pearlescent moonlight being casted into the water, the colorful corals that host millions of smaller fish and creatures — an entire ecosystem that busies itself relentlessly. 

“You can…” 

“Yeah,” Yunho says and he sounds emotional, “I can see . It feels so odd…” 

“I don’t know how this happened,” Hongjoong says. He resists the urge to rest his forehead on Yunho’s nap, despite how soft and inviting it looks to bury his face into his blond locks. 

“I don’t either…” Yunho murmurs, “Please, if only for a moment, let’s not question it…” 

So Hongjoong doesn’t. He holds Yunho in his embrace and the two of them float in the same spot, surrounded by this glowing bubble. He lets Yunho bask in the silence, eyes hungrily taking in his surroundings. Every now and then he points towards something so that Hongjoong can acknowledge it too, but for the most part he lets him be. Holding him like this is more than enough. 

“How does it feel?” he asks after a while. It’s still surreal to see Yunho breathing and speaking as if he’s over the surface. It’s bewildering, if not astonishing, because it means Yunho’s magic is much stronger than Hongjoong thought. It seems like Yunho was unaware of it too. “Is it scary?” He asks, knowing there’s more to his inquiry. He feeds into the hidden dark spot within him that’s always wondered if people find him repulsive and scary. He doesn’t mind if most people do. He wouldn’t bear it if Yunho were one of those people. 

“It feels freeing,” Yunho answers him. 

Hongjoong agrees.

When the two of them finally make it back up onto the ship, they both collapse on the deck, exhausted and tongues tasting of salt. Hongjoong takes a few deep breaths while his gills adjust to the atmosphere. Yunho swiftly gets up from the floor and walks towards his haphazardly abandoned clothes, wiggling his body like a dog to get rid of the excess water before he slips on his robes. Hongjoong takes one look at the plump concave shape of his ass before quickly averting his gaze. 

“Are you cold?” he asks, staring at the wooden planks. 

“Just a little,” Yunho replies. When he sits down again, he’s fully clothed. Hongjoong allows himself to look him in the eye, swallowing his guilt, “That was incredible …” 

“I don’t… I don’t know how that happened,” Hongjoong mumbles, “I think… Yunho I think your magic is much more powerful than you think.” 

Yunho laughs, “Nonsense… I’m just a healer. I became a healer because my magic was less strong than the rest of my peers where I grew up, it was the way things went.” 

Hongjoong realizes he hasn’t heard much about Yunho’s childhood. He tells him so, and Yunho shrugs, “I don’t remember much from it, so it mustn’t have mattered anyway.” 

“I don’t remember much about my childhood either,” Hongjoong admits. “I know I was somehow born and raised for a few years at the Far Beyond. Then it becomes a blur, washing up on different islands and shorelines, eventually learning that if I didn’t want people to bother me I would have to hide or find places to live that didn’t care that I was different. Every time I returned to the sea I never ended up staying for long. It’s so lonely. I swam and swam for days and months without reaching anyone who remotely looked at me. Fishermen though, those fuckers come dime a dozen.” 

“I’m really sorry about that,” Yunho says, “I don’t remember exactly when we were forced to flee, but it was during a time where magic was quickly becoming something to be wary of… We became scattered across the mainland, and when I found myself at the Citadel I was all alone. No one from my family has ever reached me, but I like to think I’ll meet them again someday.” 

“We’re both lonely, aren’t we?” Hongjoong lets out a sad chuckle. 

A lot of hours must have passed since their initial plunge into the water. The midnight black of the sky is slowly becoming brighter as they approach morning. 

“They say magic is born out of loneliness,” Yunho says. There’s a certain looseness in his pronunciation as the exhaustion begins to take over. His eyes blink slowly as he stares into the horizon, “Back where I grew up, we used to visit cities and transcribe their myths and legends of magic in order to keep written records of their history. Word got around to magic-averse cities and maybe that’s why we were ousted, in the end. I remember almost nothing from that time except that magic, in most instances, is born out of loneliness. It festers in isolated places and creatures and people and it becomes stronger as a consequence of that loneliness.” 

Hongjoong thinks about it silently. He doesn’t remember much from his time before assembling this crew. He doesn’t want to. He was lonely, and Hongjoong hates being lonely. 

He wonders if Yunho’s magic has gotten strong enough to momentarily share Hongjoong’s abilities because he’s spent the better part of his life isolated in that grotto. He doesn’t voice that question. 

“I think our treasure is going to be hard to find,” Yunho continues, clearly wanting to change the subject, “This spirit that resides within it is very powerful, meaning it has been left to fester in its own magic for eons. Maybe it’s never interacted with something or someone else before. It might be hard to tame… to move back to the Citadel. I’m just… warning you, because I’ve been thinking about these things throughout this journey.” 

Hongjoong finds himself smiling. “I’m not afraid of danger, Yunho-yah.” The atmosphere has become lighter. Yunho giggles. “I’ll keep it in mind. Please don’t be afraid to talk about this to the rest of them, too. They’re all very capable of handling themselves. We’re a tough crew, aren’t we?” 

“I guess we are,” Yunho smiles wide, and Hongjoong believes it’s brighter than the sun that’s beginning to rise. 

———

Yunho falls asleep quickly, his body and mind exhausted with the amount of magic that coursed through him tonight. 

When he opens his eyes again, he’s in the cusp of his eleventh year and he’s been brought to the sick bay. 

There’s a constant buzz of frantic talking – the rest of his family, elders and younglings alike crowd around something in the middle of the room. Upon being pushed towards it, Yunho realizes it’s a person – they’re pale and shivering, with a white sheet covering them up to the chin. The moment Yunho smells them he recoils. Death is imminent. Their body is too weak. 

“Remember what we talked about,” someone tells him. It might be his mother. It might be one of his bigger sisters who braids his hair in the evenings. Yunho nods before it sinks in. He gets to take another step before it dawns on him. But he’s been brought up with the possibility of this happening from the moment he can remember himself. He’s terrified. He takes a step closer. 

The person is a young child. It’s very possible that they’re the same age. Their skin is glistening with perspiration. A fever. They’re burning up. 

“The child is feeble but useful,” the elders had said when Yunho was assessed for his magic, “He’s a rarity. If you raise him to be strong enough physically, he can endure his gift. He might never have to. But when the time comes, he will prove useful.” 

Someone behind him murmurs that the child in front of them is the only heir of a noble. That he’s been cursed and ushered here in secret, so he can be healed. “How hypocritical of them,” someone in the back says. “They only seek us out when they need us.” Someone else shushes them. “How could that man do this to his child?” another questions, “Now his young boy is getting punished for his greed.”

At that moment, Yunho knows the time has come. He walks up to the feverish child that’s no older than he is and places his forehead on his. He closes his eyes. 

He passes out on the ground once the curse has been transferred to him. The child, regrettably, dies before Yunho wakes up. 

Once the news breaks out of the child’s unsuccessful healing, Yunho gets to be hugged one last time by his family before they wrap his body in dark, protective clothing and spell him to forget everything about his life and only remember that he is a healer. It works for the most part, but Yunho can’t escape the forceful magic that brews within him that resists the spell. His grief, however, makes up for it. Even in his dream, Yunho can’t remember his family’s faces. 

Within the blink of an eye Yunho is all grown up back in his grotto. It’s cool and salty. He hasn’t gotten any visitors yet, but he doesn’t mind. In a bittersweet way, he’s happy when he’s alone. That means he’s not needed. That means no one is hurt. 

He wishes Hongjoong was here. The last time Hongjoong visited him he had a black eye after a quarrel with some burly magic-users who tried to steal their ship. “It doesn’t even hurt,” Hongjoong had told him but had sat in front of Yunho’s chair, leaning in close as Yunho applied salve on the bruise and murmured a quick healing spell. “Yunho-yah, the bruise has almost faded by now.” 

Yunho almost kisses him at that moment. He doesn’t. Once Hongjoong has left and Yunho is all alone at night, he thinks about kissing Hongjoong until their lips get pink and swollen. He wonders if Hongjoong’s teeth would feel nice against his throat. He misses him. 

Yunho blinks again in his dream and when he opens his eyes his surroundings are different again. He’s surrounded by something bright – stone and ice, with stalagmites poking out of the ceiling and the ground. Another cave. Is he back at the Citadel? Is he back home? He doesn’t remember what home used to look like. 

Yunho tries to look outside of the cave but there’s something obstructing his vision. 

A shell. 

———

“Why do they call it silve r?” Jongho asks a few hours before they reach the Frontier. 

“Our youngest hadn’t joined yet the last time we were here,” says Wooyoung. “The waters here are particularly shallow, just enough to reach your ankles. The sand on the ocean floor is so bright and shimmering that it reflects the sunlight through the water, so the whole area ends up looking like it’s surrounded by an iridescent glow.”

“It’s the divider between the Near and the Far Beyond,” Hongjoong explains, “Once you cross it you’re officially in magical territory. And if my suspicions are correct, that’s probably where we’re headed next.” 

They anchor the ship a few miles away from the Frontier. The inhabitants, most of them fishermen and sea scavengers, live on floating boat houses and spend their days in the water instead of walking around. If Hongjoong hadn’t chosen the pirate life, he would have enjoyed living here – he could have proven himself to be quite useful to them. The water is warm and pleasant to walk through as Hongjoong, Yunho, Wooyoung and Jongho make their way towards the village, pants pulled up to their knees. Yunho leans down and scoops a handful of sand through the water, exclaiming excitedly when he confirms that its color is bright and silver, iridescent when the sun touches it with its rays. Within the scoop in his hand, he begins to pick out small, colorful crystals, their edges rough and worn out by getting tumbled again and again in the water. 

“Captain, look!” Jongho points. 

“The ocean floor here is littered with precious gems and rocks,” Wooyoung says, “The sea scavengers here spend hours collecting these to sell them all over the Near Beyond. You could actually get a lot of gold for these…” 

“I’d like to keep them,” says Yunho. He stares at the crystals in his palm fondly. When Hongjoong moves closer to him, he notices their colors – pale peach and blue, with hues as if they’ve been dipped in milk. They would indeed get Yunho a lot of gold if he were to sell them at the markets. 

“I can make them into jewelry for you,” he suggests. His cheeks turn red at Yunho’s enthusiastic response, “I-I noticed that you don’t decorate your ears, but I could work them into a necklace. If you want to, of course…” 

 “I would love that,” Yunho assures him. “I will cherish it forever if you do.” 

Hongjoong beams. 

Once they arrive in the village they ask around the locals until Wooyoung remembers the seer they’d spoken to the last time their ship passed through these waters. The old man lives alone a mile or so away from the rest of the boat houses – he’s old and doesn’t socialize much with the rest of them, the locals tell them, he might be asleep and not in the mood to see visitors. But Hongjoong insists that it’s urgent, and so one of the locals guides them to the old man’s boat. The local warns them the old man has gone blind so they shouldn’t startle him. 

“There’s no need for that,” a gruff voice comes from inside of the boat, “I know they’ve come to visit me.” 

Wooyoung holds onto the fabric of Yunho’s robe cautiously. He’s a known scaredy cat, but all four of them seem to be wary as they enter the boat. The old man looks much older than the last time Hongjoong saw him. He’s gone blind too; the milky whites of his eyes stare into the void. 

“Pardon the intrusion,” Hongjoong steps forward. He waits until the old man nods for them to continue, so they take the liberty of sitting down. The boat is small and dark, littered with jars of potions and herbs arranged in a disorderly manner, far from the organized chaos that Yunho’s grotto usually was. “We’ve come a long way to see you.” 

“I remember you,” the old man says. He plays with three pebbles in his palm. “I sense two magic users. How many of you are there in total?” 

“Four of us,” Hongjoong replies, “Two humans from my crew, me and a healer.” 

“There’s no healer present,” says the man. 

Jongho looks around. Wooyoung and Yunho stay silent. 

“Yes there is,” Hongjoong laughs awkwardly. “He’s standing right next to me. He’s a healer from the King’s Citadel, he–” 

“I know exactly where he’s standing, I can feel his magic pulsating. But that man is no healer.” 

“What the fuck is your problem–” 

“Ah, Hongjoong, it’s okay,” Yunho insists, placing a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, “My magic is very weak compared to the average healer, maybe that’s why. It’s fine, really. Please.” 

Hongjoong side-eyes the old man but complies with Yunho’s request. If they want the old man to give them accurate information, he figures it’s better to not piss him off. Old men are cranky and the last time Hongjoong was here he remembers spending quite a few hours arguing with him. The seer was fond of mind games and riddles, and it angered Hongjoong to no end. 

“We’re here for some insight for our journey,” says Hongjoong. 

“You’re looking for treasure again, are you not?” 

“Precisely. But this time the only information we know about it is that it might be an artifact from one of your myths.” 

“You’re looking for truth in a lie.” 

“Is that what you think myths are? Is there not an ounce of truth to them? I would be pretty disappointed if I’ve made this entire trip just for nothing,” Hongjoong says with his usual snark. 

“You won’t be disappointed,” the old man says, “Deep down you know yourself that you enjoy the trip and not the treasure, Captain. Myths are lies because they’re made from magic, and magic is an inconstant thing. Magic can never be true if it changes form constantly.” 

“Listen, grandpa,” Wooyoung interjects, “Can you just tell us if you’ve heard of the story or not–” he lets out a groan of pain when Jongho elbows him in the stomach. 

“I can tell you what I know about this myth of yours, but you will be the ones to decide if it will help you or not.” 

Hongjoong sighs. “I’ve been told that there is a spirit that your people pray to whenever health problems arise. It is said that the spirit resides in a seashell, and that it can cure illnesses, break curses and treat ailments if prayed to. I need you to tell me where I can find that shell.” 

The old man smiles. Hongjoong feels goosebumps rise on the skin of his nape. 

“Are you hoping to retrieve it because someone close to you is sick?” 

“No, it… I’ve been assigned with this mission by a prince. If I bring it to him, he’ll give me everything I want.” 

“Isn’t that kind of selfish of you, then? To steal something so precious and sanctimonious for the benefit of one man?” 

“To my knowledge no one owns the shell,” Hongjoong reasons. “Shouldn’t I just be able to take it?” 

“You pirates think you own the world,” the old man laughs. It turns into a cough soon enough, “Anything you touch can be yours, no consequences or responsibilities.” 

“The same thing can be said for royals,” Hongjoong says. “If kings can take from their people with no consequences why should I hold back?” 

“Yet you’re making this journey in service of a prince.” 

“I pick and choose my benefactors.” 

The old man seems to have grown bored of this back and forth. “If you’re looking for the shell, you’ll find it in the Far Beyond. Keep in mind that the Far Beyond is made of magic that thinks on its own. Things change places in an instant. Legend says that the shell is hidden inside of a stalactite cave–” 

Yunho’s body makes a loud thudding sound as he faints to the ground. 

———

“I’m telling you, I’m completely fine…” 

“I think you should stay in bed for the day, Yunho,” Seonghwa says. 

After Yunho’s fainting spell in the old seer’s boat the three of them quickly carried him back to the ship and sailed away from the Frontier. Yunho remained unconscious for a good few hours before he finally woke up, disoriented and sweaty. 

“You don’t look fine,” San insists, “You’re like, way paler than usual. No offense, Yunho.” 

“None taken,” Yunho giggles but it sounds weak, exhausted. Hongjoong sits near his bed with his arms crossed in front of his chest, heart racing. The horror he felt upon seeing his unconscious body has made his stomach twist into a knot, a bitter taste in his mouth. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Maybe the lack of fruit got to him,” Mingi suggests, “He’s not used to it like the rest of us.” 

“Maybe he just needs some rest,” says Wooyoung, “You’re not sea-sick, are you? It’s going to be a bumpy ride from now on into the Far Beyond, just so you know–” 

“Alright everyone, why don’t you just let him rest then?” Hongjoong says, snappier than he intended. Seonghwa takes one look at him and sighs. 

“Captain’s right, everyone. C’mon, let’s leave Yunho alone for a bit. He’s more than capable of treating himself. Let’s go make something nutritious for dinner.” 

Once everyone but Hongjoong has left Yunho’s room, the captain closes the door gently before walking up to Yunho’s bed. He sits on the floor next to him, fiddling with the charms around his wrist to ease the awkwardness of the conversation. 

“You know you can tell me everything, right?” he whispers. Yunho remains silent but gives him a shy smile, and Hongjoong knows it in his heart it’s not scurvy that’s the cause of Yunho’s fainting spell, “I’m not saying this to undermine you. You know your limits much better than I do. You are a great healer, despite what that old fuck was babbling about. But I’m the captain of this ship, and I’m responsible for each and every single one of you. So if there’s something I should know about, I’d like for you to tell me. I won’t share it with the others, if you don’t want me to.” 

Yunho looks hesitant. Hongjoong’s stomach twists into a tighter knot. 

“I promise you, Yunho-yah.” 

“Well I… I had a dream a few days ago. I dreamt of the cave with the stalagmites. I was there, Hongjoong. The shell was right in front of me… Before we met the seer I thought it was simply a figment of my imagination. It might still be that…” Yunho chuckles weakly. “I was simply startled when the old man described exactly what I’d seen in my dream.” 

“Oh Yunho…” Hongjoong can’t help himself. He places his hands over the healer’s, tenderly, until the two of them hold hands. Yunho’s palms are clammy but Hongjoong doesn’t care. “I told you, your magic is much stronger than you think. This must have been a prophetic dream, I’m sure of it.” 

“You think so?” 

“You really underestimate your abilities, Yunho-yah,” Hongjoong smiles at him. “Can you describe it to me?” 

———

The further they make it into the Far Beyond the weather becomes worse. 

Hongjoong knows this, of course. The Far Beyond is magic itself, brewing and festering unrestricted and moving as it pleases. He knows he can’t even trust his cartographers’ maps – the magic within this region erupts as it pleases, appearing and disappearing patches of land within minutes. Thick fog can dissipate in seconds if it so wishes, and dark, heavy clouds can cover the sky instantly, turning day into night. 

A storm has caught up to them, rocking the ship between colossal waves and threatening to tear it in half. 

Hongjoong grits his teeth as he holds onto the wheel with both hands – he’s soaking wet from head to toe, hair sticking to his face and his gills, grunting as he steers the ship as sturdily as he can. He knows the ship has suffered immense damage, that he’s going to spend a lot of time underwater fixing that damage. That is, if they make it out in one piece through this storm. They will, Hongjoong reminds himself, no one’s drowning while I’m here. I’ll sweep the entire ocean floor and bring them to the surface one by one if I have to. 

He’s told them to take cover in the rooms under the deck and take care of any occurring damage. Only Seonghwa is allowed next to him on the starboard, however even his quartermaster is looking rather green. He’s got a handkerchief in front of his mouth, and Hongjoong would tease him about never forgetting his royalist roots if he wasn’t fighting for his life trying to steer their ship.

 A bright burst of lighting foreshadows the menacing, crackling thunder that arrives a moment later. 

“Yunho, what are you doing here?!” Hongjoong hears Seonghwa cry out through the pouring rain. 

He whips his head around in fear – Yunho’s standing there in the rain, his robes sticking to his body, hair covering his eyes. Hongjoong’s heart leaps. He told them to stay inside, what the fuck is Yunho doing here? 

“Hongjoong, h-he, he’s burning up, I think he has a fever,” Seonghwa cries out again, “I can’t even touch him, his skin is scalding hot–” 

Hongjoong stares in bewilderment as Yunho continues to take steps forward, as if he doesn’t notice Seonghwa trying to get a hold of him, as if he’s unfazed by the intense rocking of the ship and the storm that rages all around them. Yunho continues to walk towards Hongjoong with determination, his tall form looking almost menacing. Hongjoong can feel the heat exuding from his body from where he’s standing a few feet away – Yunho is burning up. He opens his arms, taking a few steps forward to meet the healer in the middle. If he’s truly sick then he needs to get to his room immediately, or else he might get even sicker from the cold winds. 

“Yunho-yah…” Hongjoong shouts, “Are you okay?” 

He attempts to hold onto Yunho’s arms when they meet but he immediately retracts his palms as if he’s just accidentally touched a burning fire. Bewildered, Hongjoong stares at his own hands. The skin is beginning to redden and swell. 

“Yunho!” he shouts again when he notices the healer continuing to walk towards the wheel. He whimpers when he grabs onto the fabric of his clothes in an attempt to pull him back. It could be that Yunho is so feverish he’s hallucinating. What other reason would he have to not be able to snap out of this trance? 

He sees Yunho grab onto the steering wheel. The wood begins to smoke under his fingertips but he pays it no mind, steering the ship as if he’s the captain of the crew. 

“What is he doing?” Seonghwa screams, holding onto the traffail. 

“I don’t fucking know!” Hongjoong screams back. 

Right at that moment he sees another billowing wave heading towards them, a colossal mass of dark water that froths with anger and magic. Hongjoong knows it’s going to snap their ship in half, can smell the potent power it brings as it swells above them and he screams, tears running down his face and arms stretching out to latch onto Yunho’s shawl. He knows it’s futile, that even with him steering the wheel he won’t be able to do anything but to succumb to the seas. 

“Yunho, please!” he cries out, staring at the back of Yunho’s form who hasn’t moved an inch, “Take cover!” 

A bright burst of lightning lands right on the main mast – Hongjoong knows this because not even a second after the whole world turns white a roar of ear splitting thunder shakes the entire ocean and the giant wave crashes onto their ship and takes them underwater. It lands on his chest like a pinning weight, his arms and legs flailing around in an attempt to swim through the current. He frantically tries to look around for Yunho and Seonghwa, prays that the others haven’t drifted far away enough for him to lose them. He needs to find them and bring them to the surface, he needs to–

Another burst of lighting hits and everything turns white. Hongjoong ears are ringing and he closes his eyes, whimpering and begging desperately for it to stop. He feels his body being thrashed around in the water and for a moment he succumbs to it because the pain is too much– 

A second passes and he falls onto the deck of the ship. The wooden planks feel dry under his palms – is he dreaming? He can’t be, because his body still feels pain, so intense he only manages to get up on his feet after a few tries. 

How much time has passed? 

Did they wash up at some island? 

How is the ship still intact? 

The sun is too bright, unnaturally bright above them yet the atmosphere feels freezing. A minute ago they were being thrashed around in a seastorm – where are the others? 

Just then, the ship bumps into something and he falls again. He grunts as he tries to stand up, and he notices the red swelling of his hands – so it wasn’t a dream, he really did get burned when he touched Yunho’s feverish body. The storm happened, yet why is the ship still intact? Is he within a dream right now? What is a dream and what is reality? 

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa’s piercing yell rings in his ears, “Hongjoong, are you okay?” 

“Captain!” Someone yells behind him. Maybe it’s Yeosang or San, Hongjoong can’t tell. 

“I thought we were gonna die, I thought the ship was split in half–” someone else says, “Yunho, is that you? You okay?” 

Hongjoong groans when he raises his head again to look at his surroundings. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the sun with his pounding headache but then he sees it.  

Their ship has bumped into a cove. They’re in relatively shallow waters and the sea is surprisingly calm, and when Hongjoong finally manages to stand up on his feet he sees the cave. 

It’s just like Yunho described it to him – a small grotto surrounded and covered in stalagmites and stalactites that look as sharp as the blades of swords. They shine under the intense sunlight and yet the ice doesn't melt. From where Hongjoong stands he can see its cavernous opening, high enough that it’s difficult to reach without an expert climber. In the middle of its entrance something shines so brightly that Hongjoong almost shields his eyes from its reflection, but the hungry, bewildered, ravening part of him takes a step forward, his hands itching to touch it and his heart beating so quickly it feels like it’s going to fly out of his chest. 

“That’s it …” he mumbles to himself, “That’s the shell we’re looking for…” 

He hears multiple footfalls approach him, muttering voices and gasps as the rest of his crew locate the shiny shell that stays shielded inside the cave. Its intricate shape is covered in iridescent nacre, its nature turned inside out, manipulated in a way only unrestrained magic can. 

His voice stutters when he tries to speak again, “I-it’s real…” he brings his hands to rub his eyes, doubting his own supernatural abilities to see through magic, praying it’s not a mirage, praying this isn’t a dream, “It’s real, you guys…” 

“It is real…” a softer voice says. 

It’s at that moment that Hongjoong finally notices Yunho, who’s still gripping the steering wheel of the ship, his form crouched over it. Realization dawns on him that the events of the past minutes happened, that Yunho managed to get a hold over their ship and guide them through the storm and bring them here, right in front of their treasure – how did he even do it, what sort of magic leaps through time and space and defeats raging sea storms, why was his body so scorchingly hot, why did he look hypnotized, what even is he… 

“Can we just go take it…” Mingi wonders quietly, “How the hell did we end up here anyways?” 

“Yunho…” Hongjoong staggers towards the healer. His body is still exuding heat but it’s not as unbearable, and Hongjoong grits his teeth before touching his pale arm. 

Yunho is staring at the cave but his look is vacant, dark circles under his eyes, body ridden with exhaustion. 

“Yunho, did you do this?” Hongjoong whispers, “Did you bring us here?” 

Yunho breathes out softly, eyes fluttering. 

Then, he doubles over and pukes all over the floor before passing out again. 

———

It’s a dark, quiet evening when he first meets Hongjoong. 

Yunho is lost in his own thoughts, arranging some herbs in neatly tied bouquets to store for later when some rustling noise distracts him. When he turns around, he sees Seonghwa, the naval officer who frequently visits him out of duty to make sure Yunho isn’t engaging in magical activity within the Citadel’s walls. He doesn’t usually visit at night but Yunho doesn’t mind regardless. Seonghwa is much calmer and more polite than any other person in the King’s Navy. 

“Good evening, officer–” 

“P-please,” Seonghwa stutters. When Yunho looks closer, he notices Seonghwa is holding an injured hand over the side of his torso that’s oozing blood between the gaps of his fingers as they try to contain the wound. With his other arm he holds up another person who’s even more wounded and bloodied than he is. “Y-yunho…” 

“Oh gods, please, come in!” Yunho rushes to help them sit, “W-what happened, what’s wrong – oh my, you’re both terribly injured–” 

“Yunho, y-you can’t…” Seonghwa hisses as Yunho helps him rest his back so that he doesn’t jostle his bleeding wound. “You c-can’t tell anyone we’re here… Please… I ask of you… We’ll leave a-as soon as possible…” 

“His coworkers are hunting us down,” the person next to Seonghwa wheezes, although his frail state doesn’t stop him from sounding snarky, “I-isn’t that funny, hah… I guess they’re not that ho-honorable after all…” 

Yunho takes a look at the stranger. He’s shorter than him with long, brownish hair, with small braids tied with charms and jewelry in between wavy locks. His features are covered with bruises and scratches but one thing’s certain: this is no ordinary human. He smells of salt and magic, there’s scales over his arms, gills on either side of his throat, pointy ears and glowing, yellow eyes. A merman that walks on water? A siren? 

“Can I see your wound?” he asks gently. 

The person, despite all of his wounds and his bloodied body, gives him a smile, “I h-hope you won’t be grossed out.” 

“I am a healer,” Yunho insists, “It’s my responsibility to handle the gruesome and the unsightly. Do not worry.” 

“I-if this guy’s pals find us here, they’ll f-force you to hand us over for treason,” the person lets out a weak chuckle, “W-won’t that be your responsibility too?” 

“I won’t hand you over,” says Yunho. “That is my choice, of which I am responsible too.” 

“Thank you, Yunho…” Seonghwa breathes out heavily, “Thank you…” 

Yunho smiles assuringly, “Give me a second to make you something soothing to drink to numb the pain. I promise I’ll heal you as soon as possible.” 

The other person chuckles, and it sounds brighter this time, “I could s-stay here all night listening to your soothing voice… soldiers be damned… so don’t worry a-about being quick…” 

“Hongjoong we’re both bleeding profusely…” Seonghwa grunts. 

“Thank you, Hongjoong,” Yunho says. He hopes his reddening cheeks aren’t visible under the candlelight. Hongjoong smiles at him, and he’s so charming that Yunho’s heart can’t help but skip a beat, “Now, why don’t you two tell me how you met?” 

———

“Captain, you need to eat something…” 

“I’ll come eat with you guys in a bit, Sannie.” 

Hongjoong hears the door creak behind him as San enters the room and he sighs. He’s not planning on moving from this spot for the foreseeable future. It’s been two weeks ever since they began sailing back to the Citadel and Yunho has spent all of those days in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. His fever comes and goes in waves, sometimes more intense and other times mild. Hongjoong hasn’t left the spot right next to his bed for days now. The last time Seonghwa came in and tried to get him out the two of them almost got into a fight — he’s sick, Seonghwa, I don’t care about the fucking shell, you can throw it into the ocean if you want to, why isn’t he getting better, it’s been weeks. I don’t know, I’m sorry Hongjoong, we’re worried too, I can’t bear to see you like this. Can you handle the ship while I stay by his side? Yes I can, captain. 

“There’s no need,” says San. He places two bowls of stew and dried biscuits on Yunho’s bedside table. “Do you think you can wake him up? He needs to eat to replenish his strength…” 

“Yeah… Thank you, Sannie. You’re a good boy,” Hongjoong gives San’s hand a tender squeeze. He gets a head pat and San’s gentle smile in return. 

“Call me if you need anything, Captain.” 

Once the two of them are alone again Hongjoong leans forward and places his palm over Yunho’s forehead. His skin feels hot but milder than before, so he figures it’s for the best that he attempts to wake him up. 

Yunho’s skin has gotten increasingly paler each day. Hongjoong can see the blue veins under the near translucent surface of it. His cheeks have sunken and his eyes are surrounded by dark, mauvish circles. He looks like hell. Whatever magic he conjured to bring them to their treasure through that storm is almost eating him alive. Hongjoong doesn’t want that fucking shell – he wants to scream, throw it in the ocean and reverse whatever Yunho did. They keep the treasure hidden in the storage rooms. The last time he saw it on Wooyoung’s desk he had to be held back by the others so that he didn’t thrash the place and tear all of their maps apart. 

He knows he’s long lost his composure, his dignity, his responsibility towards the rest of his crew. He’s spiraling, succumbing to the anger and fear and terror he feels at the prospect of Yunho never getting better again. At the cost of what? All of this for that shell in the name of an arrogant prince who can’t even rule over his own palace? How foolish he’d been, to believe he’d be able to pull this off, to chase after a lie. He’s going to throw the shell on that stupid prince’s head and beat him up until his best doctors and healers manage to treat Yunho back to health. 

“H-h…” Yunho mumbles. His eyes are fluttering, lids heavy and swollen, but he’s awake. 

“Yunho-yah…” Hongjoong tries to hide how his voice trembles. It’s hard to smile when his eyes are brimming with tears. “I’m right here… Let me help you sit up… are you hungry?” 

“No…” Yunho coughs. Hongjoong doesn’t blame him. He’s long lost his appetite, too. 

“That’s okay. C’mon, let’s eat together. Do you need help?” 

“I can m-manage…” 

Yunho eats slowly, lethargically. As if no amount of sleep will ever rid the exhaustion off of him, as if no amount of food will ever nurse him back to health. Hongjoong plays with his stew with his spoon. Every bite is bitter. 

“I’m sorry…” Yunho croaks out, “‘M sorry, Hongjoong… you’re stuck here, with me…” he takes a few more spoonfuls before he places the plate back on his bedside table, arm shaking, “I-I can feel you next to me… even if I’m asleep… You don’t have to… I know I’m not the best company…” 

Hongjoong feels like throwing up. He wants to scream, cry until there’s no more tears left within him. 

“You’re great company, Yunho-yah. Don’t say that… I’ll stay with you until you feel better, okay? Even when you’re asleep, I keep myself busy, look…” 

Hongjoong shows Yunho what he’s been working on; the crystals Yunho had gathered from the Silver Frontier have been cut and worked into small stones, ready to be threaded with wire as a necklace. He’s been working on it every single day, hoping Yunho will like it enough to wear it around his neck. 

“How pretty…” Yunho smiles weakly. His blond hair is full of knots and greasy and Hongjoong could cry from how much he wants to brush his hair, take care of him in the small ways that don’t really matter in the long run but make his heart ache from how much he wants to touch and comfort Yunho and pray his fever away. “I promise you… Hongjoong… I promise you I’m gonna wear it, after…” 

“After?” 

“Need to do something… first…” 

“What do you mean, Yunho?” he asks. He doesn’t like the sound of that. He doesn’t want Yunho making any more sacrifices, he doesn’t want him to do anything other than get healthy soon. His heart hurts. 

“Had forgotten…” Yunho mumbles, eyes fluttering as sleep begins to take over once again, “Had forgotten… what ‘m supposed to do… but now… won’t fail you… promise…” 

Hongjoong watches as Yunho succumbs to sleep again. He takes the crystals from Yunho’s hands and places them gently on his bedside table, holding his breath so Yunho doesn’t hear him cry. 

———

Yunho spends the rest of their journey back to the Citadel in bed. His fever has subsided for the most part but he doesn’t wake up often and Hongjoong remains by his side, his mouth bitter at the thought of his healer in the same position as the one Maddox was in before the expedition.

 A day before they reach the city, Yunho gets out of bed for the first time in almost three weeks. 

“Are you sure you don’t need any help walking?” Hongjoong fusses around him. 

“I’m okay, really,” Yunho insists. He walks slowly but steadily, and even if the color on his face has yet to return he looks better than before. 

“Yunho-yah…” Hongjoong mumbles, “You know I’d never pressure you to tell me anything you don’t want to, but…” 

Yunho takes Hongjoong’s hands in his, thumbs caressing the skin tenderly, “I know you must have so many questions and I’ve been the worst friend to you… you cared for me while I was sick and you never demanded I tell you anything when I know how confused you must be… however, I must ask you for one last favor.” 

“Anything you want,” Hongjoong agrees eagerly, “Anything you want, Yunho, I promise.” 

“Can you take me with you to the palace tomorrow?” 

Hongjoong is stunned, “Is… will that be all?” 

“Yes, please take me with you tomorrow. And I promise I’ll tell you everything later.” 

Hongjoong feels like he’s got the advantage over this exchange but nods anyway. If it means making Yunho happy, he’s willing to do anything. 

———

“I can’t believe you found it so soon…” Prince Seungyoun says. 

He holds the magical shell in his hands, staring at it with awe. It’s been no more than a month yet the royal looks even more weakened and depressed than the last time Hongjoong saw him, and this time he regrets to realize that there’s more things he has in common with him than not. He can’t fault him for looking absolutely terrible when he greets them at the entrance of the secret passage, his hair and clothes unkempt and dark circles under his eyes. 

Hongjoong doesn’t divulge any details about their trip. If he does, he’ll have to admit that Yunho got nearly deathly sick in favor of what Seungyoun is holding in his hands now. He’ll have to admit that he wants nothing more than to kick the fucking thing out of the window until it gets lost in the bottom of the ocean floor – he’ll have to admit that he wants to keep it all to himself, in case Yunho gets worse again. 

Maddox is still in a comatose state when they visit his room. His hair has grown longer, spread out on the pillow like a dark halo. Yunho takes a seat on the bed right next to him and looks towards Seungyoun, silently motioning towards Maddox’s hand. Seungyoun nods. 

“If things turn out well my coronation will happen two days from now,” the Prince says. Hongjoong nods, trying to hide how utterly disinterested he is. He looks towards Yunho who’s now holding Maddox’s hand and stares at him fondly. He hopes his condition doesn’t suddenly worsen. His recovery was swift and unexpected, and since Yunho hasn’t answered any of his questions yet he can’t be sure that it’ll stay this way for long. 

Suddenly there’s a knock on the door, and a few moments after that a group of elders enter one by one. They’re all dressed in expensive, regal clothing that resembles Yunho’s attire but in much darker colors and thicker fabrics. They all crowd around the shell that Seungyoun holds up to them, eyes wide and hands shaking. 

“I have never seen this before in the flesh…” one mutters. 

“If I’m being honest, I almost doubted its existence…” another says. 

“I thought your men would die at sea before they’d even get their hands on it,” a third one says, chuckling. 

“Well, we almost did,” Hongjoong snaps, “My crew and I went through intense hardships to retrieve this fucking thing for you, so you better be grateful.” 

A few men glance towards him with contempt. They must be the royal healers that Seungyoun had brought in the beginning, when Maddox had first fallen ill. All of them are good for nothing courtiers who crowd around the throne and look down at people like Hongjoong like they’re vermin. The only reason they haven’t called the guards to escort him outside is because they’re too busy staring at the shell. 

“Pardon me, gentlemen,” one of them speaks up in a somber tone, “But I regret to inform you that this shell is completely empty.” 

“What are you talking about?” the Prince asks. “What do you mean empty?” 

“There’s nothing there.”  

“It’s true,” someone else points out, looking into its entrance, “It’s utterly barren, dear gods…” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Hongjoong asks. 

“Well,” the Prince chuckles awkwardly, “Of course it would be empty. A spirit is immaterial magic, is it not? How silly–” 

“No, your Majesty,” one of the healers says, “There’s no magic in this shell.” 

“What do you mean? H-how can that be?” 

“I fail to answer you, my Prince. It’s evident that there was magic within it at one point – this shell housed the particular healing spirit we’re looking for. But it is no longer there. Every magical being exudes a certain energy that can be felt by other magic users that is unique to each kind. This one should have housed a spirit, but it no longer does. And I can’t be sure as to how long it’s been since this shell has remained barren…” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Seungyoun yells. He turns to Hongjoong, and this is the first time the pirate has seen him this furious, “What’s the meaning of this? What did you do to it?” 

“How could I have something to do with it?” Hongjoong retorts, “I went on an entire expedition to find this stupid shell. I sailed back as quickly as possible, my healer even got terribly sick in the process, you think I’d cheat you out of our deal–” 

“This is your healer?” an elder suddenly says, pointing towards Yunho, who has remained silent throughout this entire conversation. He’s been by Maddox’s side, holding his hand and keeping him company. 

“Yes,” Hongjoong says. 

The elder laughs, “Well, it looks like you were lied to as well, because that man is no healer.” 

“Of course he is,” Hongjoong grits his teeth, “He’s treated me multiple times in the past, and not just me. He’s incredibly efficient and possesses powerful magic, and he’s brave and–” 

“I do not doubt that your friend did all of those things, but he’s certainly not a healer. Healers exude a certain kind of magic that he does not possess. His is something entirely different.” 

“What is your problem–” the pirate snarls, hissing through his teeth. He’s going to jump every single one of these old fucks if they keep disrespecting Yunho. 

“Hongjoong…” a gentle voice calls him. 

He turns around to look at Yunho, who gives him an apologetic smile that confuses him. 

“I apologize. Even though I never meant to lie to you, it happened anyway.” 

“What…” 

“They’re right. I’m not a healer.” 

“You’re not?” 

“No. I am not,” Yunho says. Silence falls in the room. 

“I didn’t mean to deceive you, Hongjoong, I promise you... I truly thought I was. I was spelled to think so by my parents, because it would keep me safe when we got separated. Because my actual gift was something much more volatile and perilous than what I could deal with as a child.  And I forgot all about it, I really did. So please believe me when I tell you that I never meant to hide this from you, Hongjoong…” 

“Yunho…” Hongjoong gulps. His mouth feels dry. 

“When I was really young, my parents expected I’d possess healing magic just like they did. When I was assessed by the elders for the first time, they noticed there was something wrong with me. But they told my parents not to be disappointed, as I might prove useful one day when the appropriate time came. So we lived cautiously but relatively peaceful. The noble who ruled over our home was an ambitious man who went on many expeditions across the oceans for months at a time, which is why we were able to live unperturbed for the most part. 

“One day when he returned there was gossip that he and his men had tamed something magical. Something hidden in the caves of the Far Beyond, a spirit that could heal the wounded and treat the sick and bless the cursed. He boasted about it a lot, claiming that he held something so precious in his hands that could never be exchanged with gold. Some people from my family had asked about it purely out of interest – moving immaterial magic from one place to another could be dangerous, erratic, explosive. He didn’t listen to them, of course, claiming we were sycophants who thought we could keep magic to ourselves while he was the one who would share this magic with the common folk. 

“But the thing with immaterial magic is that it’s inconstant and fragile. The spirit had formed along with the shell that sheltered it, and the noble and his men had discarded the thing as soon as they’d gotten the spirit out into a leather sac and sealed it with an incomplete, rushed sealing spell. He was incompetent and arrogant and didn’t think for a second that the spirit, restless as it was, would latch onto the very first being beaming with life to sustain itself – his only son. 

Someone behind him murmurs that the child in front of them is the only heir of a noble. That he’s been cursed and ushered here in secret, so he can be healed. “How hypocritical of them,” someone in the back says. “They only seek us out when they need us.” Someone else shushes them. “How could that man do this to his child?” another questions, “Now his young boy is getting punished for his greed.”

“When they brought his son to our sick bay, he reeked of death. The child didn’t possess any magic and his young body was too frail – the spirit was draining the life out of him by the second. So they brought me out, because I was the only one who could bear this burden. But by the time the spirit had entered my body the child had already died–” Yunho concludes, finally breaking down into heart-wrenching sobs. 

Tears run down his flushed cheeks and his lips tremble as he utters these next words, “I’m not a healer, Hongjoong. I can use people’s magic by touching them and lift the curses that are bestowed upon them and let them run their course through me, because my body is less fragile than the average human who does not possess magic. All I am is what people make of me, Hongjoong.” 

Hongjoong knows his eyes are brimming with tears, yet the knot in his stomach grows bigger when he notices Yunho’s hand. “Yunho… why are you holding Maddox’s hand?” 

More tears run down Yunho’s face. 

“It’s okay,” he whimpers, “I wish I could have remembered sooner. I wish I could have helped a month ago. Please don’t worry for me, Hongjoong. I can take it.” 

Then, he lets go of Maddox’s hand, and just when Maddox opens his eyes and takes a deep breath for the first time in months, Yunho passes out on the floor. 

———

“Unbelievable… to think he lived with that spirit inside of him throughout his entire adolescence and functioned normally because of an oblivion spell casted by his parents…” 

“I’ve never heard of an ability like this.” 

“It’s a rarity, but it exists.” 

“How unique, for the body to heal from curses while acting as a host to a sprite.” 

“If he used healing magic because of this reason does that mean he could potentially use any kind of magic…” 

“Hey there,” someone approaches Hongjoong, and for the first time in hours he lifts his head up from the bed where Yunho is laying on. Amongst the crowd of the elders who converse with each other, repeating details of Yunho’s story and trying to parse through the details out of academic curiosity, the two people who reach out to check if Hongjoong is doing alright are Seungyoun and newly awakened Maddox. Seungyoun on his part hasn’t stopped looking towards Yunho’s sleeping body, eyes ridden with guilt. Hongjoong hates that he has so much in common with a prince. 

“I want to thank you,” Maddox says. He has a kind, pleasant disposition. Hongjoong doesn’t know what he finds in a spoiled brat like Seungyoun, but he guesses everyone has their vices and virtues. “You made such an arduous journey, I cannot thank you enough.” 

“Do not thank me,” Hongjoong mutters. “You couldn’t help it. Prince Seungyoun would go to the ends of the world for you.” 

“I apologize for putting you through so much,” the Prince says. “I know we’re not amicable in the slightest–” 

“Yet you’ve done nothing to remedy that–” 

“But,” Seungyoun insists, “I owe you so much. Name your price. Name it, and it’s yours.” 

Hongjoong remains silent. He stares at Yunho’s sleeping body. He’s been in this state for a few hours, but thankfully he’s not feverish. Right next to him on the bed the Prince has placed the barren shell, and every now and then one of the elders will approach to study it closely. His throat feels tight. He holds onto Yunho’s hands that have started to grow cold, and he does his best to warm them up. Part of him wants to be irrational, like people would expect him to be. He’s a pirate, after all. He’s selfish and he steals and doesn’t think about the consequences of his actions or the way his behavior affects others. He can just take the crown off of Seungyoung’s head and never give it back, maybe sell it at some market and get a potato sack full of gold. 

“I want you to lift the magic ban,” Hongjoong says. “I want your men to never chase after, imprison or prosecute any innocent magic user solely on the basis of them being magical.” 

Seungyoun’s eyes widen slightly but he doesn’t object. 

“I know you hated your father. And you hate these old fucks and the ones who are trying to usurp you as much as I do. So if you want to piss them off, if you want to be a better man than any of them ever could be, start by doing something good . Bring change to this place. That’s all I ask.” 

The Prince stares at him, and for the first time since they met Hongjoong recognizes that he’s being regarded with respect. He smiles at Seungyoun, “Thank you.” 

“What about your…friend?” 

Hongjoong sighs, resting his chin on Yunho’s thigh, “He’s strong. Much stronger than he thinks. I think this is something he needs to realize himself, and I can’t let my selfishness ruin it.” 

“Your Majesty,” one of the elders says, “I think it would be best if we take this artifact to the Royal Library. Despite its emptiness, it would be interesting–” 

“No.” 

“My Prince–” 

“Do not let your arrogance fool you,” Seungyoun insists, “You cannot claim something as powerful and as inconstant as immaterial magic to be yours. The shell and its spirit will be returned to its original location. That is your next mission from me, Hongjoong,” he says, and a snarky smile appears on his lips, “By the order of the new King.” 

“Your coronation hasn’t happened yet,” Maddox insists with a cheeky smile, “I hope Hongjoong will be satisfied with a prince’s decree instead.” 

In the end, Hongjoong is left alone in the room with Yunho’s sleeping body. After the clamor that the elders and the Prince and his newly awakened soon-to-be-husband caused regarding the shell, the artifact was left right next to Yunho’s body. 

On his other side, Hongjoong leans forward to rest his head on Yunho’s chest. This way, he can hear his heartbeat pounding slowly but steadily. Its sound fills his eyes with tears. 

“Yunho-yah…” Hongjoong whispers, lips trembling. He doesn’t want to cry. He hopes he doesn’t. He feels like he’s cried enough next to Yunho’s unconscious body already, if he does so again it would be considered bad luck, wouldn’t it? “Yunho… I promise you, I’m not mad. I could never be mad at you. It must have been so hard, so lonely for you. I don’t blame you one bit. I wish I could have been by your side… I regret every time I left you on your own, I wish… I wish… I wish I could turn back time and take you with me, I…” 

Despite his best efforts, tears spill down his cheeks, soaking the fabric of Yunho’s clothes. 

“You’re so strong, Yunho…” he whimpers, “You’re stronger than I’ve ever been. A-and I know that you’ve been holding this within you for so long… to protect yourself. To be strong, for others. You care most about that, I know… But you can let go now, I promise you. You’re resilient, and caring and nurturing, and none of these things are anyone else’s but yours. You can let go of it, Yunho.”  

Yunho’s heartbeat quickens within seconds and his chest heaves – and then Hongjoong feels him sit up, and he begins violently coughing as if he’s swallowed an ocean-worth of water into his lungs.  

He heaves and coughs for a while, until tears gather in the corners of his eyes and his cheeks turn pink, and Hongjoong holds his hair back gently, patting his back with his other hand and hoping Yunho doesn’t notice how much his own body trembles at the sight of him. 

“H-hongjoong…” Yunho wheezes when his coughing finally stops, “‘M sorry–” 

“Stop apologizing, Yunho-yah!” Hongjoong says, patting his back. 

From the corner of his eye, he notices the shell has begun glowing – indeed, it’s no longer barren but brimming with magic as the spirit finally returns to its rightful place after such a long time. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, taking a seat on the bed right in front of Yunho. He almost can’t believe what he’s seeing, hands weak as he holds onto Yunho’s. 

“Kind of… lonely?” Yunho laughs, “My chest feels empty… I got used to existing… like that… I don’t know, I’m not sure…” 

“It’s alright,” Hongjoong assures him. “You’re not lonely, Yunho. You’ll never be lonely again, I promise you. I’m right here.” 

Yunho looks around until he locates the shell. He stares at it with melancholy, and Hongjoong can’t fault him. It’ll take a while to get used to this. “What am I going to do…” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t possess healing magic anymore,” Yunho murmurs, “I won’t be very useful when I go back to the grotto.” 

“Life is what you make of it, Yunho-yah,” Hongjoong leans in to caress his rosy, cherubic face. “Besides, we need to return this thing back to its cave.” 

“We…?” 

“New expedition ordered by the bratty prince himself. Return the shell that made our lives torturous for a solid month back to its home. I’m going to ask for his crown on a golden platter this time–” 

“You want… me? To come with you?” 

“I thought you said it yourself that you’re part of the crew now…” Hongjoong smiles at him, “Am I that bad of a captain–” 

He falls onto his back with the sheer force that Yunho uses to jump on him, arms coming up to circle him in his embrace. His body feels warm and solid and Hongjoong can’t help but sink into the soft feeling, squeeze his arms around Yunho’s waist and hold him as close as possible, a few tears escaping the corners of his eyes. He can feel Yunho smiling against his gills and giggling when Hongjoong accidentally pinches a ticklish spot. 

They rest their foreheads against one another, smiling. 

“Yunho, I…” Hongjoong heats up, “Can I please kiss you?” 

Yunho’s soft face turns bright and rosy, “I’ve wanted you to ask me that since the day that I met you.”

Plush lips meet in a tender, lustful kiss. Hongjoong is thankful that he doesn’t have to rely solely on his nose to breath – it means he can kiss Yunho for much, much longer. And it doesn’t matter that Yunho has to pull back sometimes. There are so many other places he can kiss. 

He wonders if love is a kind of magic, too. Yunho is full of it.