The thing about being out at sea is that while you’re on it, you lose all sense of direction. There are no landmarks to tell you where you are, no signposts to tell you where to go. The world beyond the boat does not exist.

And while Yunho does not advocate staying out at sea forever—impracticality aside, he’ll probably end up killing Yoochun—right now, he can’t think of anything more perfect. People speak of heaven and the holy with variations of what that means, but Yunho knows the truth. Heaven is having the one he loves nestled by his side, head nodding against his shoulder, and God is Jaejoong. That there can be any other is inconceivable to him.

“He’s really something, isn’t he?” Yoochun says, leaning over to look at Jaejoong more closely, as if he’s a precious jewel in a window display. Part of Yunho brims with pride, but the jealous part of him, more primitive but no less strong in its intensity for it, claws at him from the inside, howling to get out.

“You have your own man,” he snaps, drawing Jaejoong closer protectively. Still unconscious, Jaejoong snuggles in even closer, and Yunho gives him a quick peck on the nose.

“Yes, but unlike you, he understands I don’t have to order from the menu in order to appreciate the ingredients,” Yoochun retorts.

Yunho is in no mood to argue, not when everything is so perfect. “How long more?” He asks.

“We’ll be in my territory by tomorrow afternoon,” Yoochun says.

Too soon, yet not soon enough.

Yunho’s lost count of the number of times he’s scanned the horizon, half-expecting Changmin to emerge from the distance like a vengeful spirit. That man always did love dramatic entrances.

“With any luck, he’s still grappling with the Council,” Yoochun says.

“I told you I don’t like people reading my mind.”

“Then you should use that charm I taught you. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the words? Anyway, I don’t need to resort to magic to see something so plainly written on your face.”

“How can I help but worry?” Yunho asks, frustration leaking into his voice. “The Council isn’t on our side.”

“And it’s not on his either. He’s kept Junsu for himself without officially claiming him, even when I made enquiries. The Council’s got at least twenty files on him because I requested so many searches. They’re not going to be happy to know that Changmin’s been hiding him this whole time.”

“Let’s hope they stay that way,” Yunho mutters.

“Speaking of the Council, have you heard that the they’ve carried out an execution?”

That captures Yunho’s attention. It’s rare enough for an execution to happen at all, but for the Council to carry it out personally? The last time something like that happened had been before Jaejoong’s biological father had died.

By his hand.

He wonders if Jaejoong has already forgiven him for it, and if he hasn’t yet, will he ever do so.

But it’s alright. He has all the time in the world to make it up to him.

“So who was it and why?”

“From what I heard it was on a charge of destruction of property…I believe the vampire was accused of attacking a Blood Singer that didn’t belong to him. Let’s see. Was it Kong…Khan…”

Yunho’s hand pauses midway in reaching for his drink. His voice seems to stick in his throat. “Kang…in?”

“That’s it,” Yoochun says. “Reported by someone called Taemin. I’ve seen him before. Cute face, that one. Can hardly believe he’s almost a century old, though I suppose that’s still very young for our kind…Yunho?”

Yunho raises his drink to his lips, and when he takes it away again the champagne in the slender flute is trembling ever so slightly, like the last fading ripples in a disturbed pool. It’s almost imperceptible, to the normal human eye.

But Yoochun isn’t human.

“Jung Yunho,” Yoochun begins, “what are you hiding from me?”

Yunho considers not telling. But Yoochun is far stronger than him, both in terms of magic and raw strength—to this day Yunho is still not entirely sure how he managed to pull Yoochun off Jaejooong that night; according to his calculations not even adrenaline would have given him the upper hand. The only explanation he can come up with is that for some reason, Yoochun had been holding back. And if even when holding back, he’d managed to almost claw out Jaejoong’s throat and damn near do the same to Yunho’s, then Yunho has a higher chance of making it through this with Jaejoong intact if he has Yoochun’s help.

Muttering a quick string of Averian to enclose Yoochun and himself in a soundproof bubble and avoid waking Jaejoong up, Yunho tells him everything. He recounts from when he brought Jaejoong to his home, coat stained with blood so sweet than even Yunho, who doesn’t drink blood, was seized with an almost overwhelming desire to taste it for himself, to the nervous pacing in the hospital wondering how to explain a wound like Jaejoong’s to the staff. He reiterates to Yoochun how he met a boy there that looked more like he belonged in a middle school than an emergency room, and the panic he felt when the boy had asked Jaejoong who had inflicted his wound instead of minding his own business like Yunho thought he would, to the point that he used his connection to Jaejoong to communicate the first name he could think of.

“And if the Council realises they’ve executed the wrong person, they’ll trace it back to me, and that could help Changmin if they decide to come after me for giving false testimony,” Yunho finishes, feeling strangely out of breath despite the fact he stopped needing oxygen centuries ago.

Yoochun is quiet for a moment. “I presume you blame me for this?” He asks eventually. He’s leaning against the railing, arms crossed in a picture of relaxed elegance, but with his Averian abilities Yunho can sense it now, the magic radiating off him in uncontrollable waves, so strong it’s almost tangible in the air. “Since technically you did give Kangin’s name to protect me, given our alliance.”

“I…”

“Because I will not apologise,” Yoochun says, with such fierceness Yunho is taken aback. “I have searched for Junsu for so long, and wanted him for even longer. And now, at long last, he is by my side. Everything I did so far has led to that, and if I had to, I’d do it all over again. I will regret nothing.”

If nothing else, Yunho can understand that. The longing. The searching. And the waiting, always waiting. Those are emotions Yunho can empathise with, because he’s gone through the exact same process for Jaejoong.

And in the end, hadn’t it been worth it? Isn’t Jaejoong with him now, just like he always wanted? And if it had taken all this to get Jaejoong there, how could he regret it? And if he himself can’t regret it, who is he to expect Yoochun to do so?

“I don’t blame you,” Yunho finds himself saying. “But you have to help me.”

Yoochun is staring hard at the living quarters. When he focuses, Yunho can hear it—Junsu’s faint breathing, coming from the approximate direction Yoochun is looking at. Yoochun may not care much for Jaejoong or fighting Changmin, but whether he likes it or not, Junsu is at risk here too. And if Yoochun’s wait had been even half as agonising as Yunho’s, then he’s not going to let go of the very object of longing that easily.

“Get up,” Yoochun says suddenly. “And come with me. If we’re going up against the Council, we have preparations to make.”