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The sun hadn’t even considered rising yet when the rhythmic thumping began on your front door. It wasn't a polite knock; it was a rhythmic, confident beat that suggested the person on the other side believed they were doing you a favor by waking you up before the birds.
You groaned, pulling the duvet over your head. "Go away, Seokjin," you mumbled into your pillow.
"I can hear you through the wood!" his voice rang out, clear and bright, entirely too energetic for four in the morning. "The fish are waking up! They’re brushing their scales! They’re waiting for the World Wide Handsome guest of honor! Are you really going to make them wait?"
You stumbled out of bed, your vision blurry, and swung the door open. Kim Seokjin stood there in a vibrant, neon-orange windbreaker that could likely be seen from the International Space Station. He had a bucket hat perched precariously on his head and a grin that was far too symmetrical for this hour.
"You look like a traffic cone," you croaked, squinting at the brightness of his jacket.
He gasped, leaning back and resting a hand on his chest. "A traffic cone? This is high-fashion maritime couture, Y/N. I have to look good. If the fish see me and realize how handsome I am, they’ll jump into the boat just to get a closer look. It’s science."
"I’m pretty sure that’s not how biology works," you sighed, but you were already stepping back to let him in.
"Coffee is in the thermos, the car is packed, and I’ve already named the first three fish we’re going to catch," he said, marching into your kitchen with the authority of a ship’s captain. "Move, move, move! The tide waits for no one, and neither does Kim Seokjin!"
The engine of Jin’s SUV hummed a low, steady bassline against the silence of the sleeping city. Inside the cabin, the air smelled like expensive cologne mixed with the faint, sharp tang of the instant coffee he’d pressed into your hands the moment you’d buckled your seatbelt.
You watched the streetlights flicker past, a blur of amber against the dark blue of the 4:00 AM sky. To your left, Seokjin looked like a character pulled straight from a high-budget travel vlog. Even in the dim light of the dashboard, his profile was sharp- the kind of bone structure that seemed unfair to witness so early in the morning. He was humming a melody you didn’t recognize, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel.
"You're awfully quiet over there," he said, his voice a low vibration that seemed to fill the small space. "Is the coffee not working, or are you just overwhelmed by being in the presence of a legend so early in the day?"
"Option C," you yawned, shifting in the leather seat. "I’m wondering how you have this much energy. Did you even sleep?"
"Sleep is for people who aren't about to conquer the ocean," he declared, throwing a quick, playful wink your way. "And besides, I had to prepare. Do you know how long it takes to coordinate an outfit this vibrant? You can't just throw on neon orange; you have to earn it."
You looked at the jacket again. It really was blinding. "I’m worried the fish will see us coming from three miles away."
"That’s the point, Y/N! It’s psychological warfare. They’ll be so dazzled by the fashion that they’ll forget to swim away. It’s the Kim Seokjin Strategy."
He turned the radio up slightly- some pop song about biology was playing, who in their right mind sings about deoxyribonucleic acid this early- and for a while, the conversation drifted into the comfortable silence that only comes with years of friendship. You found yourself watching the way his expression softened when he wasn't trying to be "on." There was a quietness to him in these early hours, a version of Jin that the world rarely saw. It was the Jin who noticed when you were tired, who knew exactly how much sugar you liked in your coffee, and who had spent three weeks planning this trip just because you’d mentioned once, in passing, that you needed a break from the city.
~~~
Forty-five minutes later, you were standing on a damp wooden pier, watching Jin struggle with a massive plastic cooler. He had insisted on bringing enough food to feed a small navy, despite the fact that you were only going to be out for six hours. By the time you reached the marina, the world was beginning to wake up in shades of charcoal and violet. A thick mist rolled off the water, clinging to the docks like a damp blanket. The air was saltier here, cold enough that you could see your breath in little white puffs.
Jin was out of the car in a flash, his boots clattering on the pavement as he began unloading the "supplies."
"Stay there! Don't move!" he called out as you moved to help. "A captain does not let the guest of honor lift heavy objects. It’s bad for the aura."
You watched, leaning against the car, as he hauled a massive cooler, three tackle boxes, and four different fishing rods toward the boat. He looked ridiculous. A bright orange blur in the grey fog with a certain grace in his movements that caught you off guard. He was strong, his shoulders broad under the windbreaker, moving with a purposeful energy.
As he reached the boat, he realized the pier was slick with morning dew. He took one step, his foot slid, and for a terrifying second, he looked like a cartoon character trying to find balance on a banana peel.
"Jin!" you shouted, stepping forward.
He caught himself at the last second, gripping a wooden post with both hands, his chest heaving. Somehow, he had kept the tackleboxes safe in his arms and under his chin. He stayed frozen for a moment, then slowly turned his head to look at you. His bucket hat was slanted over one eye.
"I... I did that on purpose," he gasped, his voice cracking slightly. "I was checking the friction coefficient of the wood. It’s... it’s very low. Excellent data."
You couldn't help it. The laugh started deep in your chest and bubbled up until you were doubled over, leaning against the SUV for support. "You almost fell in before we even touched the boat!"
"Laughter is a sign of a healthy soul!" he shouted back, straightening his hat and puffing out his chest. "I’m glad I could provide you with such a high-quality soul-cleansing experience!". You finally take a look at what was so important to bring on this ship.
"Jin, do we really need a three-course meal for a fishing trip?" you asked, hoisting your own backpack.
"Fishing is 10% catching fish and 90% waiting for fish," he explained, pausing to wipe an imaginary bead of sweat from his forehead. "And if I am going to wait, I am going to wait with high-quality snacks. I have kimbap, I have fruit, and I have those little sausages you like. Don't complain when you're hungry in an hour."
"Careful," he murmured, his grip on your hand firm and warm. "The dock is slippery."
You can’t help but laugh at his pout, God how you wish you could just take his face in your hands and-
You catch yourself midthought, it is too early to be picturing that about your best friend...right?
~~~
He led you to a small, slightly weathered motorboat named The Silver Scale. Finally coming aboard, you could see that the boat itself was a modest motorboat, but to Jin, it might as well have been a luxury yacht. He spent ten minutes "inspecting" the hull, nodding solemnly as if he knew exactly what he was looking for.
"She’s sturdy," he concluded, patting the side of the boat. "She’s ready for the weight of my talent."
Helping him load the gear turned into a comedy of errors. The cooler was packed so tightly with food that the lid kept popping open, revealing his containers of kimbap, neatly sliced fruit, and- inexplicably- a bottle of sparkling cider.
"Is the cider for the fish?" you asked, handing him a tackle box.
"No, the cider is for the victory toast," he said, stowing it under a seat. "We have to manifest success, Y/N. If we act like we’ve already caught the biggest fish in the sea, the universe will provide."
Once everything was on board, he reached out his hand to help you down. The joking tone vanished for a split second. The mist was swirling around his ankles, and the first hint of orange sunlight was hitting the horizon behind him.
"The boat is a little wobbly," he warned, his voice suddenly soft and grounded. "Give me your hand."
His palm was large and warm, his grip steady as he guided you onto the deck. For a heartbeat, as you stepped down, you were standing very close to him- close enough to feel the heat radiating from his chest, close enough to see the tiny flecks of amber in his eyes.
"Got you," he whispered.
He didn't let go immediately. He waited until he was sure you had your balance, his thumb brushing almost imperceptibly against the back of your hand before he pulled away to start the engine.
"Alright!" he shouted, the engine roaring to life and breaking the spell. "Destination: Victory! Or at least, destination: Lunch!"
~~~
The Silver Scale moved further away from the coast, the shoreline becoming a thin, green ribbon against the horizon. The mist had completely burned off, replaced by a sky so blue it looked painted. Jin was at the helm, his hand resting casually on the throttle, humming along to the rhythmic slap-slap-slap of the waves against the hull. The boat cut through the glassy water as the sky began to bleed into shades of bruised purple and gold. It was peaceful, truly. The air was cool, the water was calm, and for a few minutes, Jin was actually quiet, focused on navigating to his "secret spot."
Once the anchor was dropped, the real performance began.
"Okay, Y/N, watch the master," Jin said, picking up his expensive-looking rod. "Fishing is about grace. It’s about the flick of the wrist. It’s about-"
Thwack.
He swung the rod back with immense flair, but instead of the line soaring out into the water, there was a sharp tug. Jin stumbled forward, his neon-orange shoulder jerked backward.
"Jin?" you bit back a laugh. "What happened to the grace?"
He froze, looking over his shoulder. The hook was firmly embedded in the thick fabric of his own windbreaker, right between his shoulder blades. He looked like a moth pinned to a board.
"I was... testing the durability of the equipment," he said, his voice reaching that slightly higher pitch it hit when he was flustered. "It’s a safety check! Very important!"
"You hooked yourself," you deadpanned.
"I am the catch of the day!" he shot back, trying to reach behind his back to unhook himself. He looked like a cat chasing its own tail, spinning in small circles in the middle of the boat. "Don't just sit there laughing! Help your captain!"
You spent the next five minutes trying to extract the hook without tearing the expensive jacket, while Jin grumbled about the "aggressive aerodynamics" of the wind. By the time he was free, his hair was a mess and his bucket hat was crooked.
"Okay," he huffed, straightening his collar. "That was a warm-up. Now, for the bait."
"Now that we’re finally here," he paused for dramatic effect, "This is the spot. My grandfather told me that the fish in this specific patch of ocean are particularly sophisticated. They have refined palates. They’ll appreciate the squid." He opened a small plastic container. The smell hit you instantly- a pungent, salty, slightly rotting aroma that made your nose crinkle.
"Ugh, Jin, what is that?"
"Premium fermented squid," he said, though even he looked a little disgusted. "The salesman said it’s irresistible."
He picked up a slimy piece of bait with two fingers, his face contorting into a mask of pure horror. "Oh... oh, it’s squishy. Why is it squishy, Y/N? It’s touching me. It’s holding my hand."
"You're the one who wanted to go fishing!"
"I wanted the aesthetic of fishing!" he cried, finally managed to impale the bait onto the hook. "I wanted the sun, the water, and the impressive photos! I didn't sign up for squid juice!"
He wiped his fingers aggressively on a rag, looking deeply offended by the entire process. "If I don't catch a shark after this, I'm suing the ocean."
"I still think they’ll just be confused by the smell," you teased, grabbing your rod.
For the next hour, it was surprisingly peaceful. You both sat on opposite sides of the boat, lines cast deep into the turquoise water. The sun was getting warmer, and Jin had shed his neon windbreaker, revealing a simple white t-shirt that showed off the impressive breadth of his shoulders- a stark reminder that beneath the "traffic cone" exterior was a man who worked incredibly hard.
"You know," Jin started, leaning back against his seat, "fishing is a lot like life. You cast your line, you wait, you hope... and most of the time, you just end up with a sunburn and a sense of regret."
"That’s surprisingly dark for you, Jin."
"I’m a deep thinker! I contain multitudes!" He gestured grandly with his free hand. "I’m like an onion. Layers, Y/N. Layers of handsomeness and wisdom."
Suddenly, his line moved. In fact, his rod didn't just twitch- it arched violently toward the water.
"OH! OH! IT’S HAPPENING!" Jin shrieked, his "deep thinker" persona evaporating instantly. He scrambled to his feet, the boat rocking precariously under his sudden movement. "It’s a monster! It’s the Kraken! It’s coming for revenge!"
He began to reel in with frantic, uncoordinated energy. The line was zipping through the water, cutting left and right. You stood up to help, but Jin waved you off with a wild look in his eyes. "No! I must face this beast alone! This is a battle of wills!"
The "beast" broke the surface about ten feet from the boat. It wasn't a shark. It wasn't even a large fish. It was a medium-sized, particularly muscular mackerel that seemed personally offended by being hooked. As Jin gave one final, Herculean heave-ho, and the fish didn't just fly out of the water- it launched itself like a silver missile.
SLAP.
The fish landed square across Jin's face, its tail flickering rapidly against his cheek.
"AHHHHHHHH!" Jin’s scream was a high-pitched, operatic masterpiece that probably could have been heard back at the marina. He stumbled backward, his arms flailing, as the wet, slimy fish slid down his face and landed with a damp thud on the deck. He froze, his hands hovering near his cheeks, his eyes wide with genuine shock.
"It... it slapped me," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Y/N. The fish. It physically assaulted the Mr. World Wide Handsome."
You were paralyzed. You were trying to breathe, but your lungs refused to work because you were laughing so hard. You had to grip the side of the boat to keep from falling overboard. "The... the look on your face..." you wheezed.
"I am a victim!" Jin shouted, though a grin was starting to break through his feigned trauma. He looked down at the mackerel, which was now flopping harmlessly near his boots. "Did you see that? It targeted me! It saw my face and thought, 'I must humiliate this beautiful man before I go.'"
He picked up a towel and wiped his face with exaggerated disgust, though he was finally starting to laugh along with you. "I'm retiring. This is it. The ocean has rejected me."
~~~
The sun was fully up now, turning the surface of the water into a sheet of hammered gold. The "Premium Fermented Squid" and the “Fish-ssault” incidents had been dealt with, and now, you were both settled into the rhythmic lull of the boat.
Jin sat across from you, his legs stretched out, looking surprisingly focused on his fishing line. The silence lasted exactly four minutes.
"Hey, Y/N," he said, not looking up.
"Yes, Jin?"
"Why did the fish get bad grades?"
You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the edge of the boat. "I don't know, Jin. Why did the fish get bad grades?"
"Because he was below sea level!" He let out a loud, windshield-wiper laugh that echoed across the open water, startling a nearby seagull. "Get it? C-level? Sea level? Ah, I’m a genius. Even the birds are laughing."
"The birds are fleeing, Jin," you teased, but you couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips.
"They’re just going to tell their friends to come see the handsome comedian," he countered, reeling his line in an inch. "Okay, serious question. What do you call a fish with no eyes?"
"A fsh," you answered immediately.
He stopped, his mouth hanging open in mock outrage. "You’ve heard it. Someone told you. My material is being leaked! There is a spy in my circle!"
"It’s a classic, Jin! Everyone knows that one."
"Fine, fine. Try this: What do you call a wealthy fish?" He paused for dramatic effect. "A gold-fish."
"That’s actually terrible," you laughed, throwing a small piece of kimbap at his orange jacket.
"It's a masterpiece! Just like my face!" He caught the kimbap mid-air and popped it into his mouth. "See? I’m also a world-class athlete with lightning-fast reflexes."
Suddenly, your fishing rod jerked. Not a small nibble, but a genuine, heavy pull that nearly took the rod out of your hands.
"Jin! I think I have something!"
His eyes went wide, his own rod forgotten. "Wait, wait! Don't let go! Reel it in! Be the fish, Y/N! Feel its soul!" He scrambled over to your side of the boat, his hands hovering near yours on the grip. "Easy... easy... it’s a big one! It’s definitely a shark. Or a sunken treasure chest. Or a very heavy boot!"
You were laughing too hard to focus, your muscles straining against the pull. "It’s... it’s really strong!"
With one final, heave-ho tug, the line broke the surface. A small, shimmering silver fish, no longer than your hand, came flying out of the water. It landed with a wet thwack right on Jin's chest, sticking to his neon windbreaker for a split second before sliding down into his lap.
Both of you stared at the tiny creature. It flopped once, looking up at Jin with wide, unblinking eyes.
"Is... is that the shark?" you asked, breathless.
Jin looked down at the fish, then back at you. He looked genuinely moved. "Y/N... look at his face. He’s beautiful. He has my eyes."
"He's four inches long, Jin."
"He’s a fighter! He chose me!" Jin carefully cupped the fish in his hands, his expression softening into something incredibly sweet. "Hello, Little Seokjin. You are very brave to challenge the World Wide Handsome. But alas, our love is forbidden. You belong to the deep."
He leaned over the edge of the boat, gently lowering the fish back into the water. As it flicked its tail and disappeared, Jin sighed dramatically, wiping a phantom tear. "Go! Be free! Tell your friends of the man in the orange jacket who spared your life!"
~~~
The adrenaline of the "Big Catch" faded, leaving a comfortable, warm hum between you. The snacks had been eaten, the sun was high, and the boat swayed gently in the wake of a distant ship.
Jin had finally taken off the bucket hat, his dark hair messy and windswept. He looked less like a "maritime traffic cone" now and more like... just Seokjin. The man who made sure you had the best seat in the boat. The man who had been your best friend for years, hiding behind jokes so you wouldn't see how much he cared.
You realized you were staring.
"I know," he said softly, his voice dropping an octave. He wasn't looking at the water anymore; he was looking at you. "The view is incredible. It’s hard to look away from something this perfect."
Usually, this was where he’d make a joke about his own reflection. But he didn't. He just kept his eyes locked on yours.
"The water is nice, yeah," you whispered, your heart starting to race.
"I wasn't talking about the water, Y/N."
The humor that usually acted as a shield between you was gone. Jin moved closer, shifting his weight until he was sitting right next to you on the narrow bench. The boat rocked, bringing your shoulders together.
"You've been laughing at my jokes all morning," he murmured, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered there, warm against your skin. "Even the bad ones."
"Especially the bad ones," you breathed.
The sun continued its slow descent toward the afternoon, and the water turned a deeper, inkier blue. The jokes had run dry for a moment, replaced by the comfortable exhaustion that comes from too much laughter.
Jin sat down on the floor of the boat next to you, leaning his back against the side. He pulled out two sodas from the cooler, handing one to you.
"Hey," he said, his voice quiet, devoid of the usual theatricality.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for coming today. I know 4:00 AM is a lot to ask of someone."
"I wouldn't have done it for anyone else," you admitted, looking out at the horizon.
Jin took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze following yours. "I know I joke around a lot. I know I’m... a lot to handle sometimes. The 'WWH' stuff, the dad jokes, the screaming at fish..." He trailed off, a small, self-deprecating smile on his face. "Sometimes I think I use it as a way to make sure people are always smiling, so they don't look too closely at the person behind the noise."
You turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden vulnerability. "Jin, you don't have to perform for me. You know that, right?"
"I know," he murmured. He reached out, his fingers tracing the pattern on the boat's floor. "But it’s scary, isn't it? Being quiet. When it’s quiet, you have to actually say what’s on your mind. And what’s on my mind is usually... complicated."
He looked up at you then, and the intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch. The playful "traffic cone" was still gone. This was the man who stayed up late to practice his vocals until they were perfect, the man who felt the weight of being the eldest, the man who cared so deeply for his friends that it sometimes looked like it hurt.
"I brought you out here because it's the only place where the world feels small enough to manage," he said. "No cameras, no schedules, no expectations. Just the water. And you."
He paused, his thumb brushing against your wrist where it rested on the deck. "I’ve spent a lot of my life making sure everyone else is okay. Making sure the mood is light. But when I’m with you, I feel like I can just... be. I don't have to catch the biggest fish to impress you. I can get slapped in the face by a mackerel and know that you’ll still be here, laughing with me, not at me,” he said, his thumb now grazing your cheek. "I’m very good at catching things. I can catch fish. I can catch people's attention. But I’ve been trying to catch your heart for a long time, and I wasn't sure if I was using the right bait."
You let out a small, shaky laugh. "You don't need bait, Jin. You just need to be you."
Your heart felt like it was expanding, pressing against your ribs as you continued, "You never have to impress me, Seokjin. I’ve liked the 'person behind the noise' for a long time."
The silence that followed wasn't empty; it was heavy with everything neither of you had been brave enough to say in the city. The boat rocked gently, pushing you a few inches closer to him.
"For a long time?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "How long?"
"Longer than the 'Analog Records' AU," you joked weakly, trying to break the tension.
Jin laughed, but it was a soft, breathy sound. He reached out, his hand cupping the side of your face. His skin was warm, smelling of salt and sun. "Y/N, I'm a very confident man. I tell the whole world how handsome I am every single day. But right now? My heart is beating so fast I’m worried it’s going to scare the fish away."
You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut. "Let them be scared. I'm not going anywhere."
He leaned in, slow and deliberate, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn't. When his lips finally met yours, it wasn't chaotic or loud like the rest of the morning. It was soft, tasting of salt air and the lingering sweetness of the fruit he’d shared with you. It was a "perfectly timed" moment that had nothing to do with luck and everything to do with the man who had been waiting for this as long as you had.
When he pulled back, just an inch, he rested his forehead against yours.
"So," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. "Does this mean I get a second date? Or do I need to catch an actual shark next time?"
You laughed, pulling him back in by the collar of his ridiculous orange jacket. "No sharks. No traffic cone outfits. Just you."
"Good," he smirked, his eyes sparkling. "Because that squid bait was really starting to gross me out."