Chapter Text
“Fight me.”
Jaebum’s eyes bore into those of a pirate he had only ever heard stories of.
"W-what?” he stammered back with a nervous laugh.
Mark Tuan. Chinese name, Yi-en. 16-years-old, born in America, beautiful, and already the captain of a ship, had somehow turned up in Korea.
Jaebum heard stories of the Tuans while growing up on his Captain’s ship, but none fascinated him more than Mark.
At 11, he kidnapped a young boy from a rich slave owner. At 13 he dueled one of the British King’s best swordsmen and won. The ship he now captained had belonged to that man.
And Jaebum was going to fight him. To test the stories, but most importantly, to test himself. If he could defeat Mark Tuan in a duel—
“YAH!”
Mark had taken off at a sprint through the crowded market, his red coat a bright dot among the masses.
He tried to follow, but it was no use. Just as Mark ducked down a narrow street and Jaebum thought he had him, he turned the corner and Mark was gone.
It would be another three months before they met again.
“Fight me.”
Mark blinked at him. Smiled. Then took off at a run.
Jaebum was ready this time. He nearly had him. His hand stretched out to grab the back of Mark’s expensive jacket. Nothing.
Mark leapt onto a fruit stand, hauled himself onto the roof of the building, and took off again, with a backward grin at Jaebum.
Cursing, he returned to his ship.
Next time, he vowed, Mark would not be able to escape.
He did.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Just after Jaebum's 17th birthday, they met again.
In the most unexpected place. Wearing the most unexpected clothing.
“Why are you dressed as a courtesan?”
Mark’s mouth dropped open the moment he glided into the room, where Jaebum was seated, waiting for his captain to arrive with a merchant they were supposed to be cutting a deal with.
“What are you doing in a courtesan house?”
“I asked first.”
A faint tinge of pink colored Mark’s cheeks as he looked away.
“It's called reconnaissance, ok?”
Jaebum raised an eyebrow, not quite believing it.
He let his eyes wander over Mark’s lithe form — dressed in bright purples and pinks, with his hair hidden under a convincing wig, done up like the other women who worked there.
When Mark glanced at him again and caught him staring, he flushed a deeper shade of pink.
“Now you answer my question.”
Jaebum shrugged, feigning indifference. Mark really was...quite beautiful...like that…
“Business.”
Jaebum smirked, suddenly understanding.
“You’re here to spy on the merchant meeting my captain.”
“I'm here spying on every—” Mark cut himself off with a soft curse and turned to leave, but Jaebum stopped him again.
“Everyone?” he asked, now curious.
Mark looked back at him with a cool gaze, and Jaebum saw the pirate everyone talked about — the shrewd intelligence of a boy who grew up amongst one of the oldest, most famous family of pirates.
“Ask who knows the most about any man in Korea, and they'll tell you it's the gisaeng," he replied with a faint smirk.
Jaebum stared at him, quietly impressed by the brilliance of it. Gisaeng houses were treasure troves of information, and the women in them probably knew enough to ruin even Kings. As entertainers often attached to the royal court, no man thought twice about what he said in front of a courtesan. It was foolish. Information could down a man quicker than a blade.
When he finally came back to himself, he said, “you do this often?”
Mark just grinned and disappeared through the door. He didn't return for the rest of the night, though every time the panels slid open, he felt a small jolt of anticipation, hoping he would see the bright purples and pinks of Mark's hanbok.
They met again a few weeks later in Hong Kong.
Only this time, Mark found him.
“Do you—” Mark gasped as he dragged Jaebum into an alley and behind a discarded rum barrel “—pick fights with everyone you meet?”
Jaebum leaned his head against the brick wall, his lip stinging where it had split. His left eye was starting to swell, making it hard to see, and he was pretty sure one of his ribs might have broken.
“Only ones I can win,” he replied with a grin, still trying to catch his breath.
Mark frowned at him. “You didn't.”
Groaning, Jaebum sat up a little straighter, earning a painful stab from his ribs. Yep. At least one broken.
“I got a shot in.”
“He’s not even going to bruise.”
“I didn't say it was a good one.”
Mark snorted in response.
They sat in the dirty alley, somewhere in a seedy part of Hong Kong, catching their breath, the adrenaline slowly wearing off. Which was unfortunate, because the aches from his fight were starting to roll over him in slow, painful waves.
He was shocked to see Mark when he and his young first mate, Yugyeom, showed up in the small city square, where Jaebum had unwisely challenged a guy twice his size and weight.
He probably barely felt the apple Mark chucked at his head, but it was like taunting a giant, raging bull, and the man had abandoned Jaebum to go after Mark instead. Mark, adept as he was at running away, managed to dodge around the brute, grab Jaebum, and sprint through the winding streets.
Jaebum barely had enough time to see Yugyeom grab the kid he had been helping, and take off in the other direction.
What did the kid say his name was again? Youngjae? Jaebum wondered if he and Yugyeom managed to escape.
Slowly, he turned his head to look at Mark. He was immediately met with a calm, gentle stare. How long had he been watching him?
“Why did you help me?” he asked.
Mark stared a little longer, before answering slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure himself.
“You...looked like you needed it.”
Jaebum’s lips twitched into a grin. “For a guy with so many stories, you sure do run a lot.”
Mark arched a finely trimmed eyebrow. “Stories?”
His ribs stabbed at him again when he chuckled.
Wincing, he waited for the pain to dull before replying, “they say you're one of the best swordsmen between America and the East Sea. No one can beat you.”
Now it was time for Mark to laugh. Jaebum smiled a bit at the way his face brightened so boyishly.
“I mean...I'm ok, I guess, but…” he grinned, eyes still sparkling in amusement, “if you want the best...that's Jackson. No one has ever been a able to beat him.”
“Never heard of him.”
Mark shrugged, looking thoroughly unconcerned.
“I wouldn't expect you to. He's not really well known in Korea...he’s pretty famous in Hong Kong though. I'd say he's even more popular than the Emperor some days."
He grunted in response, not knowing what else to say.
"Is that why you've been chasing me everywhere?" Mark asked curiously.
Jaebum was maybe a little thankful for the black and blue bruises that hid the tinge of pink on his cheeks.
"What else have you heard about me?" Mark continued conversationally, as if they weren't still crouched in a dirty alley behind a rum barrel.
Jaebum stared at the opposite wall, heart a few beats too fast.
"You kidnapped someone when you were 11..." now that he said it, it sounded ridiculous. How could an 11-year-old, even a pirate—
"I didn't kidnap Yugyeom, I paid for him," Mark said with a laugh, as though he had heard the story one-too-many times. "It was more of a rescue, really."
Jaebum let that sink in before tentatively: "What about your ship?"
Mark blinked. "What about it?"
He gaped at him. "You're eighteen."
An eyebrow arched in silent question.
"And you're a captain," he added, though he hardly felt it was necessary.
"Oh." Mark looked just as nonchalant about it as he had about everything else. "It was a gift for my 16th birthday...from my sister..."
Of course.
Because an entire ship plus a crew was a completely normal gift for a 16-year-old.
Jaebum shook his head and even managed to laugh.
"You are an odd pirate."
It was too dark for him to see the blush of pink across Mark's cheeks.
Jaebum never got his duel.