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"You've got that look on your face again."
Dongmin blinks hard, his head swiveling to the side. His captain stands there, adjusting the sleeve of his ivory tunic, giving him a small smile. Dongmin rolls his head to side until his neck cracks. "What look?"
Jaehyun chuckles, "The one where you're a thousand knots away. Like you're dreaming standing up— it's a bit unnerving."
To this, Dongmin laughs. "Sorry, captain. Maybe I do feel a bit far away this morning."
Jaehyun hums. He braces his hands on the railing of the ship and looks off towards the distant island at the skyline. "Is it about the new addition to our crew?"
Dongmin purses his lips— is he that easy to read? The answer is probably yes, especially when it comes to his captain. The only reason Dongmin even joined the crew all those years ago is that Jaehyun saw him, right to his core, through the walls and protective layers he's tried to build around himself from such a young age.
"I feel like I know him," Dongmin murmurs. "I can't explain it, it's just— it's like I've seen his eyes before."
Jaehyun looks at him inquisitively. "That's interesting. Do you get a bad feeling?"
Dongmin shakes his head. "No. It's good, which is kind of more confusing."
That makes Jaehyun's mouth twitch up. He gives Dongmin one of his looks where it's clear he's figured something out, or at least feels like he has. "It kinda sounds like you like him a little, Dongmin."
He huffs, "Oh shut up, don't make me push you over."
Jaehyun laughs loud enough that he's sure the whole ship can hear. There's not a lot of captains that would tolerate being spoken to in such a way, but that's just another thing that makes their crew special. They're the closest thing to a family that Dongmin has had in a long, long time.
ﾒ
They found Woonhak a few days ago.
Well, Dongmin found him to be accurate. The crew had touched down on a small island; Dongmin had been the one to suggest stopping because he was hoping they'd find some supplies they'd been lacking, and the crew agreed. They'd split up into groups— Sungho stayed on the ship to watch over things and prepare dinner, so Dongmin and Sanghyuk took off in one direction while Jaehyun and Donghyun took the other.
Truth be told, Dongmin was happy to be going with Sanghyuk. There's a certain comfort that comes along with being accompanied by your ships navigator. They'd scavenged around the island for about an hour, Dongmin's knapsack filled with several random things he's found that he thinks could be useful; old twine, dirtied parchment, a fraying belt caked in sand. It's wasn't quite what he was hoping to find, but as their search went on he just found himself hoping that the other group was having better luck.
And then Dongmin saw a cave. It's only a jog away from the edge of the beach, about half a mile due north of where their ship was moored. Dongmin wasn't even sure quite what drew him to this cave, but it was as if he had something in his chest pulling him to investigate. He'd never felt that before. A craving, without the hunger.
"Should we head back?" Sanghyuk had asked, but Dongmin shook his head.
"Just uh— gimme a second, I wanna look in here."
He stepped closer, boots treading through the sand. He fished for his box of matches in his things before hoisting his bag back over his shoulder, striking it on the side until it caught. The cave was small, and smelled of mold, but Dongmin found immediately what (he supposes he was meant to?) find.
A boy, about his height but thinner, frailer, slumped over a boulder. Dongmin might have thought he was dead, if it weren't for the faint ragged breathing he could hear when he stepped closer. "Shit, Sanghyuk!"
Someway, somehow, with quite a bit of physical struggle, they managed to haul the unconscious boy back to the ship.
They pat him down first because that's the smart thing to do. (Dongmin has been less cautious before, ended up with a large wound in his thigh that took too many months to heal right.)
All they found on him is a knife. Sanghyuk unsheathed it and held up the blade— it was hardly something you could fight with, more suitable for wood work or perhaps leather crafts. Dongmin shrugged upon seeing it, and Sanghyuk slipped the knife into his back pocket just to be safe. Then, with Dongmin's arms hooked under the boys arms and Sanghyuk grabbing hold of his legs, they started down the beach.
Sungho saw them coming and met them halfway so they could have an easier time raising him up to the deck. Dongmin knew Jaehyun would be back soon, so they set the boy up in their storage room on a makeshift bed— (some good work on Sanghyuk's part, a sturdy combination of sacks of flour and Donghyun's sturdy spare cloth he keeps around in case there's damage to the sails.)
They explained everything when Jaehyun and Donghyun returned. They had a discussion as a crew, which the captain always calls 'family meetings', and discussed what to do with him. It was funny actually, they had barely tackled the subject before the boy wandered out of the storage room, hands grasping at the doorway leading to where everyone was sat discussing him.
"Hey, um.." the boys voice was rough and gravelly like he hadn't tasted water in days. "Sorry to interrupt, but I think I might be starving."
ﾒ
It's been several weeks since the day Dongmin found Woonhak in that cave.
Deciding to keep him around wasn't something the crew took lightly. He as a period of probation where they watched his every move, kept their guards up— it didn't seem to last very long.
Woonhak makes a good addition to the crew. He has this energy when he's not on the brink of death, this bubbly, radiant, bouncing-off-the-walls energy that brings something warm and exciting to their days that sometimes seemed to drag.
He helps Sungho out in the kitchen (whether Sungho likes it or not), fishes for food with Donghyun if he rises early, sits in relative silence with Sanghyuk when it gets dark— he even has become somewhat a confidant to Jaehyun, which is perhaps the most astounding thing to Dongmin, because their captain has always kept his own feelings quite close to his chest. He hears them talking sometimes, when Dongmin passes the captains cabin, whispering hushed and laughing. If Dongmin allowed himself to feel jealous, he probably would be. Hm. He should think that over.
Dongmin still has this good feeling about Woonhak, but it's shifted slightly. He can't quite tell what it is, but it's there, settled in what Dongmin had thought was just empty space between his ribs.
Right now, Woonhak is helping Donghyun adjust the sails to prepare for some rougher waters. The clouds on the horizon are darkening, so they know a storm is possible, and it's better to be safe than sorry.
Dongmin watches the way Woonhak moves; how his arms shake a bit as he pulls a rope that Donghyun never struggles one bit with, but he doesn't back down, doesn't complain about the struggle. Dongmin admires that about Woonhak, how he grits his teeth and runs straight towards the hard things that most people would shield themselves from.
The sun makes the sweat collecting on Woonhak's temples shine even from the distance Dongmin is gazing from— he's in a white shirt that's definitely meant for people with bigger muscles, so it doesn't fit him quite right, but it's… charming, to Dongmin, regardless. Makes his skin look tanner and his hair closer to a chocolate brown than a shade of black and—
"You're staring."
Dongmin jumps. Sanghyuk is next to him, peering up with an amused smirk. With a huff Dongmin clears his throat, narrows his eyes. "Wasn't."
The realization hits him that night. He's laying in his bed, listening to the familiar rhythmic dance of the waves outside, and he gets a memory. A foggy, out of touch memory— it makes him jolt, makes hi head feel like he's been shoved underwater.
ﾒ
Dongmin asks him about it when they're sparring.
A few years ago, Dongmin scavenged these twin rapiers from a beached ship; they were hardly good enough to use in battle, so he dulled the blades to make them worthy of practicing with. Woonhak is quite terrible at sword fighting, but he's got a lot of enthusiasm even still, so Dongmin has enjoyed teaching him.
Their blades collide, and Woonhak laughs wildly, the kind of thing that always makes Dongmin's heart quicken. They pause for a moment while Sanghyuk shuffles around them to head towards the galley— the consequences for accidentally getting knocked into Sanghyuk while sparring is not one either of them wish to risk, so it's safer to wait for him to be out of eyeshot before they continue. This is when Dongmin finds the chance.
"Hey Woonhak…Did you ever go to a boarding school?"
Woonhak's eyes widen and his jaw falls open. "I—I did. How did you..?"
Dongmin points the blade at the deck and shifts his weight restlessly. "I went to a boarding school. One where they didn't let people go by their own names. One for kids that they didn't know what else to do with. I went there for four years, and I never had a friend…until one day. A new boy showed up when I was at the end of my rope—I think I was twelve? Thirteen? He was younger."
Recognition passes over Woonhak's face then. "Oh my god.."
"And he was kind of my first friend. Ever. But he was only at the school for a few weeks before I never saw him again. Or, well.."
Quiet stretches. Woonhak stares at Dongmin for a long while, like he's trying to compare and contrast the Dongmin he sees now, versus the hazy, younger one from his own memory. Dongmin knows the feeling. "I can't believe it's you," Woonhak whispers. "What are the chances?"
"Slim," Dongmin answers. He can hardly believe it himself. He shakes his head and looks down at his boots. "Anyway, I just had to make sure I wasn't going crazy."
Woonhak gives him a smile then. "You always were."
Dongmin sputters, a disbelieving laugh bubbling out of his chest. He raises his sword again, squinting playfully. "Careful, Woonhak, those are fighting words."
ﾒ
Dongmin has been afraid for a very, very long time.
Of vulnerability. Of doing too much, being too much, driving people away.
He doesn't want to be. It's one of Dongmin's fatal flaws, the way he lets fear control him and dictate the things he does all the while pretending like he's this nonchalant, in control person that in reality, he doesn't think he's ever actually come close to being.
A lot of things scare him. Woonhak scares him.
His smile sent Dongmin's way across the deck. His laughter echoing through the galley over dinner. His hand lightly patting Dongmin on the back as he passes him.
Right now, it's raining— not a storm, just a decent drizzle. Woonhak is standing by the bow of the ship, hands on the railing, his head tilted back to let the droplets fall over his face. It's scary, the draw Dongmin feels to him, the way his pulse stutters when Woonhak turns enough to look at him, to smile.
"This is the best type of rain," Woonhak says. His hair is weighed down from the downpour and the drops make his skin look more ethereal than gold. It's mid evening, so it's just starting to get dark, but there's still enough sunlight shining through the deep gray clouds that the sea reflects a mossy blue. Everything has a fairly melancholy glow about it, but not Woonhak. Melancholy and Woonhak don't even belong in the same book.
"You're right," Dongmin tells him, and he's honest. It's warm, and the raindrops are big, and even if it's already soaking through Dongmin's clothes he doesn't mind it so much. "You've always liked the rain, haven't you?"
Woonhak smiles. Dongmin steps closer to stand next to him; the sea smells even richer than it normally does, he swears he can taste the salt on his tongue.
"I have. I'm surprised you remember that."
That is a conversation they had at the boarding school. ("I just love when it rains." "Really? Father always said the rain just made things harder." "Maybe sometimes. For me it just makes me forget about the hard things instead.")
"I remember a lot about you," Dongmin quietly admits. "Well, is it working right now? Are you forgetting the hard things?"
Woonhak chuckles softly and turns his gaze back out to the horizon. The waves crash, and Dongmin's fingertips twitch. "A lot of them feel far away, now. I like being here, on this ship. With all of you."
"Yeah," Dongmin exhales. "I—we're really happy to have you."
He stays out there with Woonhak for a long time. Eventually the raindrops cease, and they're both still soaked, but they sit on the edge of the bow and let their legs dangle through the railing and they talk, for a long time. Something starts to bloom, and it feels like something that Dongmin just can't ignore.
ﾒ
Dongmin steps onto the deck and squints. The only real lighting right now is from the moon, her gentle glow kissing the waves that crash against the side of their ship. They anchored a few hours ago so they could rest, but Dongmin was having trouble falling asleep. He isn't sure who's on watch when tilts his head up to peer at the crows nest, but when he listens for a moment, he finds out.
Soft, barely audible singing. A bright tone, filled with warmth. Selfishly, Dongmin considers just lingering there in silence so he can keep listening.
But he stops. And Dongmin startles like he's been caught.
"Who are you? I can't tell from up here," Woonhak shouts down, and Dongmin swallows.
"Your singing sounds nice!"
Woonhak's laugh carries even with the distance. "Thanks, Dongmin."
Dongmin should go back to bed. Nothing good can come from him bracing two hands on the ladder and hoisting himself up to the crows nest. Nothing good can come out of the way his chest flips when he raises up over the edge and locks eyes with a moon-soaked Woonhak.
His father always warned him about falling in love too young, especially as a pirate. It's hard to trust people, and even harder to guarantee they live long enough to build something real and long-lasting with. Dongmin's never let himself develop feelings for another, not deep enough to stick, but Woonhak..
Woonhak is like molasses. Glue. Perhaps honey, the sweetness being there to back up the thick pressure that being around Woonhak brings to Dongmin's chest.
Dongmin sits beside him against the mast, and their arms brush, and Dongmin's entire heart feels like it's rattling inside his ribcage. As if Woonhak's reached his fingers through his sternum and made himself one with Dongmin's blood stream. Like ink dipped into water, being around Woonhak changes him. He feels like at this point, it would be impossible to separate himself from Woonhak's influence.
"You can keep singing," Dongmin tells him after a moment of silence. Woonhak huffs out a breathless laugh.
"I'd rather just talk to you," he says gently. "Could you not sleep?"
Dongmin shakes his head. He's trying to focus on the horizon, the endless stars in the black sky and the raven waves, but Woonhak is looking at him, staring, and his eyes feel like something divine. "I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes. Usually I can fall back asleep if I try hard enough, but I don't know…I felt like I needed to come out here."
Woonhak hums in acknowledgment. He waits a moment, tips his head back against the mast, and this time, Dongmin is the one staring. At the way Woonhak's jaw leads to the slope of his throat, the way his eyelashes fan over his cheeks when he shuts his eyes for a moment, and the way his inhales have his chest rising. Dongmin's never felt compelled to trace down someone's nose bridge with his fingers. To press his fingers into someone's flesh until an impression of himself is left there forever. Want is a rotten thing, and Dongmin wants so, so badly.
"Do you believe in things happening for a reason?" Woonhak asks. His eyes are still closed, and Dongmin's heart still aches.
"What do you mean?"
Woonhak's head tilts, moonlight making one side of his face glow ivory. His eyes open again, and it feels as if he's peering right into Dongmin's soul this time. Those damn eyes. "Do you think it's just chance that we've found each other again, after all this time? Luck?"
Dongmin swallows. "What do you believe?"
Woonhak's mouth curls. "Dongmin."
"I don't know!" Dongmin wilts further into the mast. "You—Woonhak, I…it scares me. You scare me."
His eyebrows furrow a bit, "Scare you?"
"Ugh," Dongmin presses his palms over his eyes in frustration. "I don't know how to explain it."
Woonhak's voice is gentle when he says, "I'm not going anywhere."
He lets Dongmin figure it out. It takes a few minutes, Dongmin just settled into his own thoughts and wading through them like flooded waters. He's always struggled with forming his thoughts into words, especially without having time to think them through by himself, and usually people press him before he's ready, so he's accustomed to just running when he gets to that point. But Woonhak is quiet. And he's patient. And he's warm where his hand brushes over Dongmin's knuckles.
"I don't know why I went into that cave. I had no reason to, I felt pulled to— and finding you there, it's… it confirms certain things about the universe that I've never wanted to acknowledge or think about. Believing there's purpose in things, believing that there's things I can't control, it frightens me so deeply, Woonhak," he sniffles a bit, and Woonhak's palm settles fully over the back of Dongmin's hand. "If we're… I don't know, meant to be around in one anothers lives, and If I'm starting to feel the way I am about you..then what happens when I lose you?"
"When?" Woonhak asks softly. "Why when? Why not if?"
Dongmin turns his hand, allows Woonhak to lace their fingers together. "I mean, everyone dies, right? Especially in our line of work? That's why I can't—I can't let myself get caught up in things. It hurts, Woonhak. I don't know if I can take it."
Woonhak shifts at this, squeezing his hand and facing Dongmin even more now. "Why live like that though? Why curse yourself to never feeling like you can love someone?"
"I can love people," Dongmin mutters. "I love everyone on the ship-"
"Dongmin," he says again, a bit firmer. "You know what I mean."
Dongmin's lip quivers despite his best attempts at keeping his emotions down. His fingers curl and his chest heaves and he blinks his eyes rapidly enough to try and stop any tears from falling. "Woonhak, if I let myself love you and then something happens to you-"
This time, Woonhak does interrupt him. "Okay, sure, but what if nothing happens to me and we could have been something? What if we never try, and we regret it? Do you really think it's better to have never loved me, than to possibly lose me?"
Wetness starts to track down Dongmin's cheeks. He turns away so Woonhak can't see. When he responds, the venom he tries to send with his words fizzles into something transparently pathetic. "I don't fucking know."
Woonhak's free hand cups Dongmin's cheek and he oh-so gently guides his head back to look at him. He leans in closer, just so Dongmin has no other choice but to look him right in the eyes. "I've lost people, Dongmin. You have too. It fucking hurts, and sometimes the hurt doesn't go away, but I wouldn't trade that hurt for anything. You can't mourn something that wasn't worth loving."
An ugly sob wrenches its way out of Dongmin's throat. He drops Woonhak's hand in favor of rooting his fingers into the fabric of Woonhak's shirt. "I just—I don't want to lose you.." he whispers.
"I will try my best to make sure you don't have to," Woonhak says firmly. "But I love you, Dongmin, and if you really don't think you can risk being something with me when it could mean you lose it, then we don't have to. But I'd really love it if we could try."
Dongmin bets he looks like a mess right now. Tears and trembling and puff of hot air from his mouth every time he jokes on an exhale. But Woonhak doesn't frighten. He doesn't pull back, or do anything but brush his thumb in soothing motions over the curve of Dongmin's cheek. "I love you," Dongmin admits, and he lets himself be pulled in until his wet face is being pressed into the curve of Woonhak's neck, a hand on the back of his head. He's immersed entirely by Woonhak's warmth, his love, his patience. He hardly feels worthy of it. Maybe it's okay that he doesn't yet— maybe he will.
"I love you," Woonhak echoes. "Come here."
Dongmin shuffles a bit closer. He feels somewhat pathetic, curled into Woonhak's hold like a newborn fawn. It feels nice to be cared for like this. Foreign, and terrifying, but nice.
A hand slipping up and down his back— Dongmin has a scar there that he got from a thief when he was a teenager, it took him weeks to recover from, and the tissue there still hasn't quite recovered, leaving a mark across his shoulder blade big enough that it's easy to feel through the fabric of his shirt. Woonhak doesn't say a word about it, but his touch there lingers, and every time he brushes over it, he presses a gentle kiss to the side of Dongmin's head. Reverent. A promise to care for him and soothe his fears.
Dongmin falls asleep like that. The tears eventually stop, leaving a mess of Woonhak's neck and shirt, his body crumbled up in Woonhak's arms. He doesn't even realize he's drifting off until he's awoken hours later, the sun starting to slowly peek over the horizon.
Woonhak is still leant against the mast, an arm looped around Dongmin's waist, but he's asleep now too, mouth open to let soft snores escape.
The anchor has been lifted; Dongmin assumes that means at least Jaehyun and Donghyun are awake now, but he doesn't hear much commotion. He can't see anyone from his initial peak onto the main deck, but the ship slowly rocks along the waves.
"Morning," Woonhak croaks, and Dongmin jumps a little bit from the sudden sound. It makes Woonhak chuckle. "Sorry."
Dongmin sits up further, rolls out a kink in his neck from the way he fell asleep. Honestly, despite the physical discomfort of having slept half-sitting-up in the crows nest, he feels decently rested. And hungry. "I'm hungry."
Woonhak's sleepy eyes light up at this, "Fuck, me too."
Sungho rarely prepares breakfast for the crew, because he says lunch and dinner is enough and that they can fend for themselves if they wish for more than that. So, Woonhak and Dongmin go down to the galley to find themselves something to eat. The thing Dongmin settles on, that's both filling enough to let them last until lunch but also requires the least amount of effort to prepare, is fruit. All they have to do is cut some of it up.
They're about halfway through preparing the fruit together when Woonhak speaks up, setting his knife down and leaning against the wooden counter. "Dongmin, I…I hope you know that no matter what you decide, that I will understand."
See, Dongmin's first gut instinct that he's had formed over years of keeping himself arms length from most people, is to pretend like he isn't sure what Woonhak means. Maybe mutter out a half assed, 'decide about what?' and let Woonhak decide if he should take the bait or just walk away. He doesn't want to do that now, though. Dongmin swallows down the urge and rests his own knife to the side. He wipes his hands on the front of his shirt and lets out a shaky breath.
"Honestly, I'm still terrified. I don't know what the right thing to do is, or the smart thing, or the good thing— but I think…I know how I feel about you. Maybe we can just…figure it out slowly? Is that acceptable to you?" His voice is small towards the end, fingers twisting together. Once again he feels that childlike nervousness settle in under his skin.
Woonhak steps forward, hands unbelting his own and he smiles, so gently, in a way that feels like the a drink of water after hours of being without. "Of course that's acceptable. Your pace, Dongmin, your comfort. It matters to me. Let's figure it out slowly."
Feelings hit Dongmin like a hurricane. They drags through his body, rattle him right to his core. Relief, first and foremost, intense, deep relief. And then joy. And also adoration. "I'm gonna kiss you now," Dongmin says earnestly. Woonhak's eyes widen, but he nods, and Dongmin leans in.
He presses closer, connects their mouths together like he's been wanting to since he could even allow himself to consider it. Woonhak's lips are chapped, but still pleasant, frightfully plush. Dongmin's sure his own are rough, but Woonhak melts against him like he's been waiting for this too. Perhaps he has.
Their hands find each other in new ways. One of Woonhak's palms settles on Dongmin's hip, his other arm looping around his shoulders so he can pull him closer. Dongmin curls his fingers around Woonhak's nape so he can deepen the kiss, hair to make it last a bit longer, just to make his lips buzz and ensure he can't forget how this feels anytime soon.
But then it's not enough— Dongmin feels greedy, he wants more. He presses Woonhak against the edge of the counter and licks into his mouth when Woonhak gasps, his grasp tightening on Dongmin's hip.
A disbelieving scoff is what breaks them apart. Dongmin scrambles back, eyes flying towards Sungho standing in the doorway, his face twisted in a scowl. "Could you two not do this anywhere else?"
Woonhak laughs, pitchy and startled, and starts grabbing handfuls of cut up fruit. "That's—yeah, that's fair, sorry, Chef! Ha ha!"
Sungho crosses his arms and watches them pile the fruit into two separate bowls and start to shuffle out of the galley. Woonhak exits first, and that's when Sungho asks, dryly, "So, does the captain know you're sticking your tongue in the new boy?"
Dongmin pauses for a moment and leans in close, drops his voice to a low tone. A gentle warning. "Remember when I didn't tell anyone that I caught you fully inside our navigator? And I didn't tell anyone?"
Sungho's entire face blanches. "I will slit your throat."
Dongmin smiles sweetly and pops a piece of mango into his mouth. "Mm. That's what I thought."
ﾒ
Dongmin's on watch tonight. It's gotten warmer, a humidity to the air that's settled in deeper the past few months that feels even more stifling when he's as high as he is. With no warning, Woonhak's head pops up over the edge, a bright smile on his face— Dongmin jumps and yelps, startled, and clasps a hand over his now pounding chest.
"Hey," Woonhak greets with a giggle. "Sorry. Thought it would be funny."
"It wasn't," Dongmin huffs, but his mouth is curling up at the corners so he knows Woonhak can see right through him. "What are you doing up? You don't have watch duty tonight, it's mine and Donghyun's shifts."
Woonhak hoists himself upwards until they're sitting side by side. He looks handsome tonight, like he usually does, dressed in black and with most of his hair pushed back out of his face. Dongmin brought a lantern up here tonight, because he planned on writing some poetry in his journal tonight, though he hasn't quite gotten to doing so yet. It means that Woonhak's bathed in amber light, and Dongmin can see him well enough to make his pulse quicken at just a glimpse of him.
He's grown more used to how it feels to want another in the way he wants Woonhak. It's become his default, to feel the warmth coil in his gut, to want to kiss him before he even has the chance to utter a response. He does, and Woonhak giggles against his mouth. "Hi," he manages to get out, a hand smoothing over Dongmin's collar, and then he finally gets to answer. "I'm.. just not tired yet."
Dongmin pulls back. He can tell Woonhak is lying based on the way his eyelids droop. He knows him. When he raises an eyebrow, Woonhak's expression turns sheepish.
"I just wanted to see you."
Dongmin kisses him again, on the nose this time. Woonhak lightly slaps him in the chest but he grins in Dongmin's favorite color of his, lopsided and delightfully bright.
"I wanted to write a song," Dongmin mutters. "But I can't quite think of a melody. Could you help me?"
Woonhak gives him a look, half embarrassed, half amused. "You just wanna hear me sing."
"Maybe," Dongmin answers easily. He has no reason to lie. "Indulge me anyway?"
A soft sigh, one with no malice. "Alright."
Dongmin smiles and tucks himself up against the mast, watching the light of the lantern adore Woonhak's features as he starts to hum. He's exactly where he wants to be, despite the humidity; Dongmin will listen to Woonhak sing, and maybe write a few lyrics, and they'll probably kiss a bit more between stories about the years they spent apart. Once Dongmin's shift on watch is over, he'll bring Woonhak back to his room, and whatever they do there is something Dongmin refuses to feel afraid of anymore.
Baring his soul and all that. Whatever Woonhak wants from him, from his mind, from his heart he can have— Dongmin owes him that much. There's not a lot of people that could gently crack at his shell without cutting too deep, but Woonhak has. And he does. And he will, as long as Dongmin continues to let him.
As far as fear goes, Dongmin's no longer concerned. What will be, will be.