The soft sound of bare feet padding against marble floors is almost inaudible over the incessant whirring of oxygen circulating in the vents overhead. The cool surface bites at Chanyeol exposed toes but he pays it no heed, only takes quick, stealthy steps towards his destination: the kitchen.

Raking a hand through his mussed bed hair that resembles an uncontrollable burning flame now more than ever, Chanyeol winces at the thundering rumbling of his stomach that carries down the empty corridors. He skipped dinner again last night. He decides now that it wasn't the smartest of ideas - his ever fed belly reacting grouchily to the prospect of being empty for once in his life - but it was a measure taken in hopes of avoiding another confrontation with a certain, intimidating man. 

Dinner is the only meal that the Captain joins everyone for. Chanyeol couldn't stomach the thought of seeing him again so soon after their previous disastrous meeting. 'Soon' being used to replace the time figure of an entire week. 

Chanyeol had avoided stepping foot in the communal dining hall for the past week, however his stomach is ever the betrayer. It grumbles loudly now in the stillness of - what he supposes is - the night, though Chanyeol isn't sure how anyone can even tell whether it’s morning or night or somewhere in between when the view outside the window is so constant.

After his clash with Baekhyun, Chanyeol hadn't been able to show his face around the ship. Hadn't been able to eat. Hadn't been able to sleep, either. Whether it be while he's staring up at the stretch of ceiling above his bed, trying to find solace in the mercy sleep refused to grant him, or while he's twisting and turning in his fitful dreams; all he can see is a pair of tortured, dark orbs.

The image brings with it complete and utter destruction. Memories of his life play out before him any chance they can get, forcing him to watch the nostalgic pictures of his past flicker by, filtered through new, blackened lenses. In this corrected version of his recollections, his father is no hero; he's a monster. A liar. The only thing that holds true is his love for Chanyeol that translates itself in wrong, selfish ways. His memories twist themselves into bitter images implanted in his brain by the one who man who has suffered the most because of them. The man he is currently avoiding like the plague.

With a sigh he expels the guilt rising up in his throat - an unfortunately temporary fix - and refocuses on his task. Hopefully a full, sated stomach will be able to aid him in his quest for some peace.

‘I could've sworn the kitchen was somewhere nearby,’ he thinks as he pushes limp, dirty hair out of his vision. ‘I hope it's empty.’

//

Nearby it was. Empty it was not.

Chanyeol takes one hurried step into his paradise before abruptly turning on his heel with a yelp, rushing to make a quick retreat as soon as he notices the other figure already in the room.

"Come back here, sealegs," Kyungsoo sighs, not even having to look up to detect his presence. His busy hands continue to slice away at a wiggling purple vegetable on his chopping board - 'Kiss the Chef' apron tied neatly over his pressed clothes - as Chanyeol is forced to stop mid-step. "Sit."

Like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs, the captive makes his way back into the kitchen, smile bashful and head angled downwards as he grudgingly obeys Kyungsoo's commands. He can't bear to look at him when his face is currently mimicking the colour of his hair.

"Uh, I seem to have gotten a little lost," Chanyeol tries, voice failing him and cracking from underuse. He scratches his head, trying to force the growing sense of embarrassment back as he takes a seat at the kitchen counter, opposite an unimpressed Kyungsoo. "Was looking for the bathroom and all that-"

"All rooms on the Exodus have ensuites."

"Oh, yeah. Must have forgotten." He smiles sheepishly, the captive's attention quickly becoming stolen by the large pot on the stove when he catches a whiff of Kyungsoo’s famous vegetable broth. His throat bobs as he swallows.

"Oh yeah?" the Captain's right-hand man hums, finally putting down his cutting utensil - a machete that's almost twice the size of his own head - and proceeds to toss the chopped up vegetable over his shoulder and into the broth, on autopilot. It wiggles in agony in the boiling water. Kyungsoo doesn't look sorry. "And how is your mission of avoiding Baekhyun going?"

Chanyeol almost winces at the sound of his name. His back straightens and his eyes frantically dart around the room, landing everywhere and anywhere that isn't Kyungsoo. "I uh - don't know what you're talking about."

"No? So he's not the reason you've stopped coming to dinner and why you've resorted to sneaking food out the kitchen so late at night?" the alien asks all too knowingly, cornering the captain. Chanyeol hates how perceptive Kyungsoo can be.

"No-" he is cut off mid-sentence when his stomach commits the ultimate mutiny and lets out a loud rumble and triggers a violent blush to gush up the taller's neck. Chanyeol keeps ahold of his pride, however, and admits nothing, glancing up at Kyungsoo's judging expression before shoving his hand into the nearest cookie jar and stealing a sweet treat. "I'm just here for a midnight snack," he tells him with his mouth full, cookie crumbs flying around like little spaceships.

The pirate mumbles something along the lines of, "savages," before letting him be. Chanyeol takes it as permission to steal as many cookies as he wishes.

//

Somewhere along the way, Chanyeol finds himself engaging in pleasant conversation with Kyungsoo. Maybe it can be blamed on the late hour, the many traumas he'd suffered so far during his time aboard the Exodus or perhaps just due to the fact that Kyungsoo is surprisingly easy to talk to. Either way Chanyeol finds himself opening up to the burly male he once held an unsavoury opinion on. 

Kyungsoo tells him that he is only up at such a hour because his species - Technicans from the planet of Technos - can survive on minimal sleep and because he has to get breakfast ready for the crew while Chanyeol, in turn, relays to him how just under a week ago Baekhyun had dropped a bombshell on him that not only ruined his life and had him questioning everything his father had ever taught him but also had him developing some sort of sympathy for the pirate. All whilst slowly depleting the contents of the cookie jar.

"Ah, the Captain has such a way with his words. One would think the oaf had been raised by wolves with those manners of his," Kyungsoo all but scoffs out, his words triggering a scandalised gasp from his listener.

"How can you say that about your Captain?" Chanyeol exclaims as if the word 'Captain' were the end all be all of things.

With a roll of violet eyes, Kyungsoo releases a sophisticated snort at the expense of the captive. "I'm his right-hand man and his closest friend. I am the pilot, the engineer and the cook of the ship - even more talented and vital to the running of the ship than the Captain is himself. In fact, I built this very ship for him back when he couldn't even tell aluminium from steel, I consider it my right and privllage to say whatever I want about him!" the audacious man insists indignantly, waving his machete around as he speaks.

"Isn't it mutiny to say such things behind the Captain's back?" the taller boy questions, not as horrified as he is stunned. Back on Earth any bad mouthing of the Captain from his crew would've led straight to the plank, maybe even the stocks with the cruelest of captains peppering on the punishment of lashings to silence the gutsy scamps for good but it seems the people on board the Exodus have no mind for status and power and hierarchy at all. Chanyeol supposes it's not a bad thing.

Kyungsoo replies with a twinkle in his eyes. "Not if he knows it's the truth."

Mid snort, Chanyeol's eyes accidentally catch sight of the container he currently has his hand stuck down. They widen in horror at the bright red 'Captain's Jar' painted across it. Might as well have been written in his own blood.

Kyungsoo is quick to notice the sudden tensing of the redhead's body, eyes nonchalantly flickering between the jar and the captive as if unable to see what the probelm was.

" he's going to kill me isn't he," Chanyeol gasps out, retracting his hand as if burnt to the millionth degree. His large eyes rounden to new heights as the familiar prickling feeling of svelte fingers wrapped around his throat have the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at his show of acute fear despite finding the situation nothing short of amusing.

"Calm down, sealegs, it was an honest mistake," he says with a tut of his tongue, pulling the jar away from him slightly. Chanyeol clearly isn't convinced if his paling skin is anything to go by.

"God, Kyungsoo, start planning my funeral."

Kyungsoo merely turns away from the red haired male, words easily leaving his mouth in an unmediated, detached manner. "Why are you so scared of him?"

"Why aren't you?" It's a question that has Kyungsoo chuckling at its absurditiy but to Chanyeol it's a question he needs an answer too. "I'm the son of the man who ruined his life. I'm his hostage. He could kill me any time he wanted, I bet he thinks about it multiple times a day, just why shouldn't I be scared of him?" Kyungsoo notes the exasperated breathiness in Chanyeol's voice, the way he seems on the verge of hysterical tears fueled by fatigue and his own irrational fear. His only response is to roll his eyes at such a dramatic display.

"I think you really need to get some more sleep," he remarks cooly to which the other male sniffs in agreement.

Despite his inability to sympathise - the curse of his race - he does soften his features acutely, turning once more to face the nervous wreck who sits before him. "Listen Chanyeol," he starts gently, prying out the cookie that was inching towards the captive's mouth from grubby hands to place it back in the jar before the supplies are depleted too badly. He does not have time to bake and restock the Captain's stash of sugary sweets. "I understand why you'd be intimidated by Baekhyun - the eyeliner, the chains, are part of his tough boy act - however he's not as bad as he seems, he could never kill you in cold blood - don't look at me like that, it's true. He's just -" there is a break in his speech as he begins to gesture expressively with his hands as if trying to pull the right word that could even begin to describe the character that was their Captain out of thin air. His features turn somber and his shoulders deflate once he finds it, gaze b with a sort of second-hand sadness. "He's just lost."

The taller male sobers at this, countenance dialing down into a look of quiet understanding. Understanding that is much too real. The Captain is a flurry of a million different fiery emotions, somewhere between being consumed by the fury and the sadness and the pain, he seems to have lost his way. Kyungsoo watches as a round pair of clear eyes grow distant, clouding over with an all too familiar look that sets off a dull pang in his heart.

"Well, I guess I'm pretty lost too, Kyungsoo."

"Hm, there's one thing you have in common," the latter mutters as he pushes himself off the counter, gaze hardening again back to their usual form as he refocuses on cooking. "Now if only you both could make amends with your father, everything would be fixed and Baekhyun can finally take me on that vacation he's long been promising me."

Chanyeol hums quietly at his words. Kyungsoo is prepared to take it as a sign of agreement, however the red haired male soon looks up at him, bottom lip worried between his teeth as a thousand uncertain feelings clearly illustrate themselves over his features. It's a look that Kyungsoo's become used to seeing.

"But the truth is, even I don't know where my father is these days."

//

On the morning of Chanyeol's 21st birthday, the redhead had not woken to the annual sight of his father beaming at him with a candled cake in his hand, but instead to the image of the old man in a large padded coat, back bent over a suitcase packed to the brim. He was going away to travel, he'd announced, the sadness of parting injecting itself into the apologetic curve of his lips. He was retiring and in the form of a birthday present was bestowing his beloved ship in the capable hands of his only son. 

When he boarded the first passenger ship to outer space later that day, Chanyeol had thought it was his father's way of treating himself for a whole lifetime of serving his country, but now Chanyeol dares to think it was more like he was running away.

Though his father would write back to him and send him mountains of post cards and photos from all the new corners of the galaxy he explored, his departure still took a toll on the young captain. Chanyeol felt out of place in the house he'd grown up in, in the ship that was too big without a certain, larger presence by his side. Both the places he had once loved became too large, too hollow; the halls and his heart too empty in his father's absence. He felt lost.

Now he feels the same as he did back then. However this time it is not because he has physically lost his father, but because he has lost sight of the man he thought he was.

//

Baekhyun rests his body against the wall, eyes fluttering closed as he takes in the deep laughter floating out of the open door of the kitchen next to him, the sound sweeping through his hair and kissing his earlobes. If he imagines hard enough, he can hear the warm tone of his father's voice bleeding into the notes made by his captive. He relaxes into the sensation, aches and bruise in his body soothed under his fabricated illusion.

His blood is still pumping from his earlier breakdown, the shaking of his fingertips only just beginning to subside. Currently, his room lays in shambles, everything scattered across the floor: a tattered map covered in angry pencil markings that painfully cross off planet after planet and taint the beauty of the universe lies on the floor, swept off the desk in a fit of rage. It waits there for its owner's temper to wane, for him to pick it up and straighten out the wrinkles ironed into parchment under the soft press of fingertips before resuming his search with a clear head.

He doesn't dare take a peek. Kyungsoo would catch him in an instant, everything that passes the threshold of his precious kitchen being easily detected under his range of heightened alien senses. Instead, he stays there, listening to the way his right hand man's chiming laughter mingles with the warm sounds of their prisoner's as he cooks.

"You should join us for dinner more often instead of snacking on the Captain's treats. I hope this doesn't become a regular thing." Baekhyun's eyes narrow. He hopes so too.

"Would he even want me there?"

"I'm sure the Captain would love to see your face after all those days of you avoiding him."

There is a rustling sound that fills up the pause of his words. No doubt, the oaf had stolen another cookie. "I'm not so sure, though." Baekhyun could hear the confectionary in his voice.

"Of course, he would. Handsome fellow like yourself." Another pause.

"You think I'm handsome, Kyungsoo?"

At this point, Baekhyun decides he's had enough and kicks himself off of the wall with the familiar feeling of irritation poisoning him, a new kind of pain bleeding into the mix. As he storms away with stinging fingertips he makes a mental note to reprimand Kyungsoo for letting someone else eat his beloved snacks and for being so civil to their captive. He's not here for them to be chummy with, he's here to lead Baekhyun to his fate.

With fists balled tightly by his sides and nails marking his smooth palms, he goes back to the map that he believes will help set a lost boy free.

//

The alarms are blaring throughout the Exodus, lights of red and blue flashing and disorientating the only man onboard who does not know their meaning. Other men are rushing to and fro in small groups, wielding pistons and swords and clubs while Chanyeol gapes helplessly, his position frozen by the door of his room. He scans the organised chaos. No one notices him. If they did then they ignore him. They're on a mission, they have no time to lose.

With his eyebrows furrowing impossibly close in utter bewilderment, he grabs ahold of a familiar figure as it whizzes past him. 

"Kyungsoo," he says, immediately locking gazes with blown out light brown eyes that flash violet with recognition. He is shocked by the exhilaration that oozes out from the shorter male in his grasp. "What's happening?"

"The Captain's ordered us to raid a nearby ship," he replies breathlessly with a smile that sends chills down Chanyeol's spine. He doesn't like what he sees.

He can feel the adrenaline - the excitement - rushing through his veins from where he holds onto his wrist. It reminds him of the harsh reality that this man is a pirate. Though he is one with strong maternal instincts and killer cooking skills who has been accommodating to his 'midnight snacking' habit for the past few days, he is still also one who enjoys pillaging and raiding and rebelling. The naval Captain releases his grip on him, recoiling as if scorched.

If Kyungsoo notices his sudden change in demeanour, he doesn't say anything, instead beckoning him forward. Chanyeol follows him blindly, still numbed by how many illusions and images of people he thought he knew were breaking before his very eyes. "Captain wants everyone besides a few to help on the raid, whether you want to get your delicate hands dirtied with the rest of us or stay in your room like a coward, that's up to you, but you should still be armed just in case," Baekhyun's right-hand man chatters, leading him down the corridor and left, where he throws open a door to reveal a weapons and artillery room. He takes several guns for himself and shoves a single revolver into the dazed sailor's chest before running off to attend to his own business, a simple, "stay alive," being his only form of farewell.

Chanyeol takes a blurry moment to examine the weapon, runs his gaze over the armament that lies in his hand. His expressionless face glares back at him, reflected by shining metal that gleams with bloody promise. Sunken cheeks and dark circles scream back at him.

He's knows how to shoot. He'd learnt on Earth as part of his training. His preferred weapon of use was a musket, one large enough to tuck under his arm and heavy enough to leave behind from time to time. This revolver, however, feels off to him, his finger sitting all wrong on the trigger. It's too small in his large palm, too cold against his warmth, too simple and harmless looking to be responsible for taking another's life. At least, a musket is large and somewhat menacing. It would be an embarrassment to have your life taken from such a thing - disrespectful to even point it at someone.

It doesn't stay in his palm for long, however, for stealth fingers are soon snatching it away from him. He's almost thankful.

"What do you think you're doing?" the new figure asks him, scowl painted across his features as genuine confusion bleeds into his gaze. Chanyeol thinks that the petite weapon looks better in Baekhyun's small hands than his own. "You don't need this, this raid will be easy and over with in no time. Just stay in your room for the duration of it and keep out of sight. You're not a member of the crew, you won't be forced to join us on our - expedition."

Something about the hesitancy that infiltrates Baekhyun's voice as they wrap around his final word sparks something within Chanyeol, the way his eyelids flutter rapidly like wings causing his eyebrows to quirk upwards. It seems everyone has something to be ashamed of, something to hide, something they wish wasn't a blight upon their life: Baekhyun's is his pirate life and Chanyeol's is his father's role in steering him onto that path.

The latter watches in silent fascination as Baekhyun pulls out a silver longsword from the artilery room, it flashes with malice, catching the light as he sheaths it at his waist before moving to place the revolver back in its designated drawer. Chanyeol's hand takes a life on its own and snatches the weapon back before either male can even react. He’s brought back to his senses when he feels a coldness seeping into his palm and a pair of glaring, dark orbs scrutinising him - rimmed with kohl as usual.

"What do you think you're doing?" Baekhyun asks for the second time. Chanyeol really wishes he knew.

"Joining you," Chanyeol answers a beat too late but his words do not waver. These are the first words he's spoken to the shorter since their last chaotic meeting. He forces his voice to sound as nonchalant as possible, raising one of his shoulders in a shrug as he bites back the bitter surge of pity he feels whenever he looks into the Captain's electric eyes. He can't unsee it. Can't unsee the pain in them. "I'm a trained captain, I know what I'm doing and I'd rather be of help to you than be holed up in my room like a damsel in distress-"

Baekhyun scoffs at this. "I don't need any help. Not from a dainty sailor like you. Now run along before you get a bullet hole in that pretty face of yours, Park." His chains that pierce his lower lip and ear glint fiendishly like armour. Chanyeol briefly wonders if the Captain uses words as a form of armour too: equipping insults along his skin to prevent anyone from getting close to him, to prevent anyone from hurting him.

He allows a small smirk to tug on his lips at Baekhyun's words that once would have scalded him.

"You think I'm pretty, Byun?" To Chanyeol's disbelief - and slight delight - his captor can do nothing but gape in stunned silence as a violent shade of pink washes itself over his cheeks. He's reminded of the conversation he'd overheard between the captive and Kyungsoo last night. He's reminded of the fear this man has for him, the easy banter he'd established with his right hand man, the soft warmth that carries in his laughter.

The pirate's unexpected reaction has the smirk slipping off of Chanyeol's lips as seconds tick by, stretching into minutes and Baekhyun is still unable to think up a retort to spit out.

‘God, why did I say that?’

The taller of the two Captains decides to relieve the other of his misery - and himself of his own awkwardness - as he shoves his gun into his pocket gracelessly. "Aren't you going to take a gun? You know, more effective and stuff." He inclines his head stiffly towards the longsword resting at the raven haired man's side, not in a show of concern but for a lack of anything better to say, he convinces himself.

Baekhyun clears his throat quietly, eyes steeling over while the pretty flush is forced back down to where it came from. He doesn't look him in the eyes. "You have your weapons and I have mine. Join us or not, I don't care, just don't get in my way," he rasps coldly before barging past his captive, making sure to let their shoulders brush in a not so gentle way.

Chanyeol turns to watch him go, sees his figure slowly getting smaller and smaller as the distance between them gets bigger and bigger. He joins his rowdy men, giving them orders and laying out their plan of attack with hard features, miles away from the blushing boy he'd been a few seconds ago. 

Chanyeol knows he'd achieved his first ever victory when it came to him, but finds this side of him - his high and mighty facade - easier to deal with. It's become familiar waters now after all his time spent on the Exodus. The furiously flustered man from earlier is dangerous - foreign territory -and Chanyeol has no desire to relearn how to deal with the man all over again. He doubts he'll be sticking around for long enough to.

//

Baekhyun presses his back against the cool wall behind him, eyes alert and dancing. The cold seeps into his skin, twists down his spine and sends shivers rippling along the expanse of his body. His ears pick up on the rapid falling of panicked feet, echoing from somewhere down the foreign corridor he treads down - steps careful and calculated, senses heightened under the influence of adrenaline. 

He grips onto his sword with blanched knuckles, fingers strong around the hilt as unfamiliar voices shouting in unfamiliar dialect bounce off the metal of the walls. His weapon of choice may not be as effective as a gun, but it is all Baekhyun needs to keep himself safe. His chest moves up and down steadily, every single breath planned out, calculated, in order to keep himself undetected, to keep himself in control of the situation and the numbed trepidation that he forcefully pushes to the back of his mind.

Turning the next corner would be dangerous, he knows. Holding his breath, inching himself up to the sharp left turn, he prepares himself. Anything could be around the next bend. This isn't his ship. He's willing stepped into someone else's territory. Nowhere is safe. But he trusts in himself and so he takes the leap of faith and swings around the corner, on the balls of his feet, agile.

A gun clicks against his temple and his blood turns to ice.

His own gleaming blade finds its rightful place pressed up against the windpipe of his towering adversary whose shaky hands touch a revolver against his skin. Both weapons scream in vicious bloodlust. But one’s battle cry is louder than the other's.

Yes, the gun's bullet may be faster and more deadly than Baekhyun's sword, but judging by the way chocolate eyes waver under his icy, unaffected gaze, he assumes the man has no intention of shooting. Not when they're on the same side. At least, Baekhyun thinks they're on the same side.

"What are you doing here," he hisses, shoulders releasing the tension they held as he slaps away Chanyeol's hand with the hilt of his sword. Chanyeol's eyes follow the motion of his hand as it comes to rest by his side, chest heaving, dazed with adrenaline and short-lived fear that drenches his nerve ends.

When he doesn't answer, Baekhyun forces himself to look away from the small beads of sweat that drip down Chanyeol's forehead, down his cheek, his sharp jawline. "With a shaky grip like that you're more likely to shoot yourself than me," the man adorned by chains mumbles, his own feeble way of distracting the male. He doesn't know how to approach him. Not after he'd let him see so much of him the last time they were alone. Not after he'd blown up at him for something that wasn't really his fault. He doesn't know how to face such empty, lost eyes after knowing he is the cause of them. He imagines that's the same way Chanyeol feels whenever he looks at him too.

Long eyelashes flutter as the taller Captain blinks rapidly, trying to muster up some coherent words. "I thought you might have needed some extra help." His deep voice breaks slightly but other than that he seems to have gathered his composure quickly. A common trait all Captains must share in the face of danger.

( 'Why would you want to help someone you should despise,' Baekhyun wants to ask. 'You're my captive not my crew member.' )

"You'll be doing me more harm than good," Baekhyun says instead, clicking his tongue as his eyes make quick work of scanning their surroundings, still on high alert while Chanyeol lets his arms flop uselessly by his side. When the coast seems clear, Baekhyun allows his eyes to scan the taller's body for any injuries, though his attention is preoccupied by his clothes. "I see you're taking to the pirate life well," he comments, noting the loose white shirt and slacks that drape themselves over Chanyeol's body and not to mention the weapon he wields. He almost allows a smirk to pull at the corner of his mouth.

Chanyeol's belated reply holds no amusement and his deflated demeanour causes the former's expression to falter. "Isn't this what people resort to when they have nothing left?"

Baekhyun can't even tell him how right he is.

He literally can't tell him. Because within the next second, the shorter's eyes flicker over Chanyeol's shoulder and widen instantly in alarm.

That's all the warning Chanyeol gets before Baekhyun is swooping down to grab onto his right hand, where his gun is gripped loosely before switching their positions. Baekhyun glides forwards, pressing Chanyeol's body against his back, fingers perfectly finding their place over the trigger. The taller's heart races against his skin.

The gun clicks and a bullet slices through bone faster than he can register. The victim's dead before their knees even hit the floor. 

When Chanyeol finally pulls himself together, Baekhyun is moving away and a green alien of a species unknown to him lies lifeless on the floor, with a hole in his skull that releases a pool of purple blood for it to bathe its head in.

"You - You killed him." The accusation in his voice almost stings.

Before Chanyeol can think too much of Baekhyun's closeness, of his infatuating scent invading his every cell, he feels the hot, harsh metal of a gun being against his chest and an irritated Baekhyun glaring up at him. Gunpowder invades his sinuses and a flurry of sparks that can't be blamed on the weapon takes over his vision.

"What did you want me to do? Let him shoot you? You had your guard down. He would've blasted your head off even more mercilessly than I did him." The fierce look of fury recreates itself in Baekhyun's eyes. The eyes of a killer. The fiery haired man has to remind himself of what Baekhyun is because for some reason he finds himself forgetting. Not believing.

Before the accused can even get in another word, Baekhyun is stalking away, sword shaking in his tight grip. Chanyeol is quick to be hot on his heels. “I don't have time to deal with you. We have to get to the main centre of the ship and shut it down. I'm not having this ship float away, there's too much riding on this."

Chanyeol frowns at this, easily catching up to the shorter, unlike he had with Kyungsoo. Dread pools in the pit of his stomach. Only mayhem can unfold under Baekhyun's uncontrollable madness. "Can't you just get the cargo and leave? Kyungsoo tells me that's what you usually do."

The mention of Kyungsoo angers him more. "I've told you before, Park, space is my territory, I know how to do things here, I know how they work. It's much easier for a ship to teleport away in space, never to be seen again than it is at sea."

Chanyeol's frown deepens, morphing into something alike a scowl of judgement. "Or maybe someone's hands are just itching to take part in a killing fest. That's what raids are usually about right? Killing for the sake of killing. Murder in the pursuit of treasure or self satisfaction."

He has no right to judge. "You speak of me as if I'm a monster," it's a simple accusation that leaves Baekhyun's lips without much of a thought. His pace doesn't slow down but Chanyeol's steps stutter for a split second as something rings true in him. His feet are forced to a halt and Baekhyun has no choice but to mimic him though his eyes scream to keep moving.

"What else can I take you for?" Chanyeol runs an ashen hand through bold, red hair. He doesn't know if he'll get through to Baekhyun, he doesn't know if it's even possible to get through to him but he'll sure as hell try. "Do you know what humans are known for, Byun? Their humanity. Their ability to be compassionate, to be able to relate to people, to care about others rather than just themselves. I see none of those qualities in you, Baekhyun. Pirates like you terrorise people, you make people afraid, you make them coop themselves up in their home and live their lives in fear and you kill for sport." Every single word is a translation of all the pent up feelings Chanyeol had forced himself to swallow during his time as Baekhyun's captive. He hopes the pirate will be able to feel the bitter burn of it all.

( But they're his father's own words, ones that had been instilled in him since young. He wonders how much truth is behind them.

The answer is: enough. )

There is enough truth behind those words to have Baekhyun's eyes flooding with something akin to resignation. All of a sudden Chanyeol wishes he'd never had the courage to have spoken. 

"If that is so then I guess I truly am a monster. The human side of me died a long time ago. My soul is buried beside my father and my ashes are scattered home, by the sea." He points an accusing finger his way. It trembles under the unwinding of Baekhyun's temper. "You have no right to speak to me about humanity when the only reason you are still alive and before me right now is because of your own father's selfishness."

Baekhyun moves to turn around again. He's determined to complete his mission with or without Chanyeol. He doesn't need him to succeed. The latter swallows his pride and reaches out. He tries to call out to Baekhyun, his name already perched on the tip of his tongue, but all that falls from his lips is a groan of pain as a bullet of gunpowder encased in metal embeds itself into his shoulder.

The groan resonates and Baekhyun whips back around, jaw clenched tight. He draws his sword just in time to bat away a bullet aimed at his skull. One look at Chanyeol, fallen to the ground with his teeth digging into his lower lip in an attempt to keep pained noises from escaping has Baekhyun shifting into fight mode. Earlier anger forgotten, he charges forward towards their assailant, a blue skinned alien with spindly tentacles wrapped around its face. Its gruesome features make Baekhyun all the less guilty as he severs off the hand that wields its weapon and impales the blade of his sword into its chest. It falls with a final roar of pain before silencing forever. 

The thud of a lifeless body against metal floors is muted by the thunder of approaching footsteps. It almost sounds like an entire army's approaching. 

Baekhyun's blood runs cold but he has no time for fear. "Hey," he hisses, boot nudging the fallen sailor who clutches his wounded shoulder. Chanyeol's eyes are blown wide and alarm laces his features. Baekhyun ignores the man's disorientation and urges him up, foregoing their earlier exchange of hurtful words and focusing on the task at hand. "Get up. Now would be a great time to put your training to some use." With short, static breaths, the raven haired man presses the cool metal of Chanyeol's dropped revolver into his hand. He looks up at him with hard eyes, settling into his persona of the calm, collected commanding Captain of the Exodus. "I need you to concentrate, Chanyeol, if either of us wants to get out of this alive we're going to have to work together. I know you want to hold off on hurting people. But I will tell you right now these guys will kill you as soon as they get the chance. Have no mercy. If you want to survive right now, Chanyeol then you've got the pull that ing trigger."

Numb and with adrenaline coursing through his veins, the taller Captain nods, concentrating on the sound of Baekhyun's steady, authoritative voice rather than the panic that eats away at him. He steels his features into a look of concentration though his adam's apple bobs up and down with dread. Baekhyun's eyes sweep over his face and both of them pretend not to notice the acute concern seeping into his expression.

They are soon surrounded by both exits of the corridor by a dozen or so aliens, each one a different colour and uglier than the last. Some look human, like Jongdae, Junmyeon, some eyes flash a telltale shade of violet like Kyungsoo and a feeling of anxiety settles into the pit of Chanyeol's stomach.

Baekhyun moves to face a group of them, back pressing against Chanyeol's. He feels the latter's blood seeping through his shirt and into his own but doesn't think too much of it. He's used to having blood on his hands.

"Make yourself useful, Park. And don't you dare let yourself die," Baekhyun growls before quickly picking up his last kill's forgotten weapon and effortlessly puncturing holes into two of his opponents skulls. It almost sounds like words of concern but Chanyeol knows better. He needs him to lure in his father. He almost contemplates letting himself die here to escape this mess.

The instinct of self preservation in his blood will not let him be so foolish.

While Chanyeol hasn't seen much conflict, it doesn't mean he is a complete stranger to it. No Captain gets to his position without seeing his fair share of death and destruction, although Baekhyun has definitely seen enough of it for the both of them - caused enough of it too, no doubt.

The latter's body moves with experience. He's quick, eyes always scanning, always analysing his opponent's movements. He's thinking, Chanyeol notices from whatever glimpses of him he can sneak between his own hurried movements, not entirely sure if it's something to be praised. He himself is usually one to rely on his impulses and reflexes, giving himself up to the rush of danger, the need for survival. In this haze, he doesn't have to notice what he's doing. He doesn't have to feel the pain racking through his shoulder caused by metal embedded in muscle. He doesn't have to think or feel anything as he just crooks his finger over the trigger. One, two, three times. It's easier this way, he thinks as the bodies fall one by one.

"A bit slow on your feet, huh Baekhyun?" Chanyeol sends him a jab as the shorter catches a spiked club to his side, puncturing his flesh though his own breathing is ragged and muscles are quickly tiring. Baekhyun only offers him an irritated grunt that translates to 'mind your own business.' Chanyeol's lips twitch upwards. He can't see the Captain right now, but he can tell he's fine.

One more click of Chanyeol's gun and a splatter of purple blood decorates grey metal walls.

The misplaced redhead rolls to dodge a bullet that screams his name, ripping a groan from his throat as his shoulder protests against the strain. He’s all out of bullets now, he realises as he tries to return the favour, only resulting in a curved metal piece grazing his cheek. "," he curses shamelessly as vibrant liquid trickles down his face, throwing his now-useless revolver against the ground. Manners be damned.

He only brought one weapon with him. Usually it's all he needs, all he can bear carrying with him. He wasn't exactly expecting to get caught up in any intense action. He was a fool. He should've known; chaos always follows Baekhyun wherever he goes. As long as he's with Baekhyun he's always going to get caught up in the crossfire.

Behind him, Baekhyun is doing a little better. Sword in one hand, gun in the other. His group of enemies is quickly depleting, every single one injured at least. It gives him time to pick up a fallen alien's musket, lugging it over in Chanyeol's direction, smuggest of smirks gracing his lips.

"A bit slow in the head, huh Chanyeol?"

"Prefer the term reliant on my instincts," the latter grits out, clicking his tongue and shaking his head at himself more than anything. The musket is nice and heavy in his hold. His territory.

The naval Captain rolls back his shoulders, feeling the tension ooze from them like blood and makes quick work of picking off the last of his enemies. His energy is rapidly depleting and the natural numbing effect of adrenaline is fading only to give way to searing pain and looming guilt. He imagines that even aliens have families.

"Instincts would remind you to carry more than one weapon on you." Baekhyun dances around attacks aimed at him, one with the air as he lunges forward, engaging in a one and one battle with his final standing adversary who holds his tastes in weapons. It seems the gash in his side woke him up a little. Metal clangs against metal and Baekhyun swiftly steps around each lunge made at him, reading his opponent's movements before he can even carry them out. Tiring of the push and pull, Baekhyun fits in one perfectly timed , wrenching his sword through his foe's gut. And that's the end of him.

Chanyeol watches it all from his place slumped on the ground, propped up against the wall. Shallow breaths are all he can manage now, the effects of blood loss weighing down on his eyelids. Red stains his white linens but he can't bring himself to care. He hates that stupid pirate shirt anyway.

"Park," Baekhyun barks, all business as he takes quick strides over to his side, spitting out blood across a fallen alien's body. Soft hands find themselves on Chanyeol's jaw before the latter can wince over the blatant show of disrespect, tilting it upwards lightly. The feeling of those same fingers malignant around his neck are erased by the tenderness of this touch. He must be hallucinating now. "Park, look at me. We need to get you back to the Exodus. Can you move?"

Waving his hand, Chanyeol lifts a corner of his lips. "I can move. Don’t take me back to your ship - I can carry on."

"Carry on? What are you talking about?" Eyebrows knit together to form a look of confusion that the latter thinks doesn't sit right on Baekhyun's pretty face. Despite his faults - and he has many - Chanyeol can't deny that the Captain's face is not the worst view to be beholding in what could be his last moments. But that could just be oncoming death talking. "You're turning back right now. I'm calling Kyungsoo-"

"Who's going to stop you, Baekhyun?" he whispers, no more strength left in his body. Desperation radiates off him, diffusing through the air like crimson colour through white fabric. "Who's going to stop you from losing control? From losing yourself even more? From all this destruction and suffering?”

Baekhyun turns cold now, concern snuffed out of his eyes. He almost looks resigned. Dark eyes lock on empty ones, a strange feeling sparks between them but neither looks away. "You're a fool if you think you have it in you to stop me," Baekhyun says, voice no louder than Chanyeol's was. His hands tremble by his sides before he speaks into his communicator device in his ear. "Kyungsoo get your over here."

It's almost funny how Baekhyun trusts Kyungsoo to be alright more than he trusts himself to stop the destruction he has started. Would be funny if it weren't such a damning thought.

"I would stop you," Chanyeol says, resting the crown of his head back against cool metal, eyelids fluttering closed. "At least I'd try. With everything I have."

"Then you're a fool, Park," Baekhyun repeats, slight aggravation in his voice as he urges Kyungsoo to come quicker. Two fingers press against the vein in his wrist and in his blackening haze, Chanyeol grabs onto them, engulfing them in his large palm.

"Trust me a little, Byun." A stupid smile spreads itself across his face as his vision fades into darkness.

//

Chanyeol comes to with a raging pain in his left shoulder blade. The brighter than bright lighting has him cursing quietly. He'd just escaped death, he'd appreciate it if the Exodus could turn down Her obnoxious luminosity for just a second. 

He finds that even sitting up is a difficult job and by the time Kyungsoo comes rushing to his side in aid, he is already out of breath and sweating profusely. He also registers a dull ache in his ribs and wonders just what else is wrong with him.

"Afraid we almost lost you there, sea legs," Kyungsoo says quietly. A purpling bruise outlines one of his owlish eyes but otherwise, he seems unharmed. "You lost quite a lot of blood." There is brief concern that flashes through those round orbs and Chanyeol feels sorry for ever having judged the man for being a pirate. He is unable to hold resentment against him despite his occupation.

Chanyeol's voice is hoarse and his throat burns when he tries to speak. He doesn't know if it's because of the ordeal he had to face or because of the name that escapes from it. 

"Baekhyun..."

He was the last face Chanyeol had seen before he'd out.

"Ah yes, the Captain was in pretty bad shape too. But I guess he thinks it's all worth it seeing as we were successful in our mission."

Chanyeol didn't know whether or not he should be happy that Baekhyun succeeded in his bloodthirsty plan. He chooses to save what little words he can make out for more important things.

"He saved me." His eyes as they look up at Kyungsoo's contain only confusion.

A knowing smile spreads across Kyungsoo's lips. They're chapped and dried up blood decorates a split in the middle. "That he did. Multiple times from what I heard.”

Chanyeol hadn't thought about it too much at the time, he was too busy thinking about how to stop Baekhyun from becoming some sort of mass murderer. The man had saved him and still, Chanyeol had the audacity to spit words of scorn at him, accuse him of being less than human, lower his value and judge him based on what little bits of him he thought he knew. He'd almost outdone his own father. And yet through all of Chanyeol's blindness, Baekhyun was still willing to save him. 

Knitting his brows together, Chanyeol tries to keep the oncoming headache at bay, undoubtedly triggered by how he was unable to fit all the pieces of the puzzle that was Byun Baekhyun together.

"I called him a monster. He could've just left me to die." The confusion etching itself over handsome features almost has Kyungsoo feeling sorry for the giant oaf. "Yet he still saved me. Why?" A part of him hopes it's not just so he could lure his father in. Chanyeol knows that even if he were to lose his life, Baekhyun would not stop until he had the point of his sword against his father's neck.

"Maybe it's because of your handsome face."

"Kyungsoo," he sighs, clearly not up for any of their usual banter as he runs a hand over the sore muscles of his face.

There is a pregnant pause before Kyungsoo seems to give in. "Do you know what was on that ship, Chanyeol?" he asks, voice soft, yet his eyes are hard and imploring, almost pleading. He wants him to understand. Chanyeol shakes his head, urging Kyungsoo on.

Nothing would have prepared him for what he was about to take in next.

"Children. We took over a child trafficking agency. We managed to save all the children onboard, capture the leaders of the organisation and call the authorities. Obviously, we couldn't turn them in ourselves, that would've been suicide but we stuck around, our invisible shield defenses until the ship was discovered. That's why he couldn't just get the cargo and leave."

Chanyeol's shocked, glassy eyes and heavy silence speaks volumes.

The doe-eyed man offers him a small smile that resembles something like comfort, a hand resting itself on his right shoulder. "You don't have to think the Captain is a high and mighty hero, but just cut him some slack, Chanyeol."

//

It's when Kyungsoo finally leaves his room at night, turns off the lights and leaves him to his own devices that Chanyeol's brain starts whirring its gears. And once it starts, it doesn't stop. It doesn't stop at one conclusion and leave him alone for the night, it keeps going like a chain reaction, one new thing that he deciphers leading him to crack another case. Until he makes cracks against the exterior of Baekhyun's mask.

He supposes he couldn't have done it without the latter's help. Once Baekhyun had told him of his connection to his father, causing him to question everything he'd ever been taught by him, he started to pick things apart, decide things for himself. His father had always told him that those in lower stations in life to them were deemed inferior, but Chanyeol had labelled this teaching as untrue and unfair early on. His father had also told him that people who did bad things and made bad choices were ultimately bad and bad to the core. While this was not an unreasonable thing to teach a child, Chanyeol realises now that there's much more to it than just that. Baekhyun has multiple sides to him, Kyungsoo has multiple sides to him, everyone has: that is the way the world works. People cannot be categorised into plain black or plain white.

He understands now. He sees it. Sees Baekhyun in a different light, sees him without any prejudice.

His discovery has him throwing off his covers and shooting out of bed like lightning, running down the halls at the same pace as his racing heart.

//

Monster. Monster. You're a monster.

The syllables bleed deep into Baekhyun's brain; accusing, attacking. It's Chanyeol's voice he hears - always Chanyeol's voice at first - but then it blends into another song, into familiar warm dulcet tones; it contorts into one of the man who'd raised him. In his head, his father's voice laces itself with a poison that infiltrates Baekhyun's entire body. Monster. It cuts him deeper than a thousand blades. He grips onto his ever familiar desk, knuckles turning white as he tries to ground himself, tries to save himself.

His shirt lies forgotten on the floor, bandages decorating the full expanse of his bare chest, each one covering up a new wound, a new scar that will tattoo itself across pale skin. The wretched map lies next to it, tormenting him, mocking him. Monster. You're a monster. Back then Baekhyun had agreed that yes he was a monster and even now he knows those words to be true. There was nothing he could do about it. Though he asks himself why he's doing this, why he's wasting his energy on being so hateful, why he's letting such a heinous quest rot his soul when this is not what his father would have wanted, when this is not him; he knows it's because it's all he has left. This is the last piece in the shattered puzzle of what his life was meant to be. Some pieces are lost forever.

( Monsters are created not born, they are fashioned out of the wear and tear of time and of all the the universe has to throw at them. Who knows who Baekhyun was meant to be before all this? )

‘Chanyeol was right,’ the broken boy thinks, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, willing the tears to stay back, baring his teeth together painfully in an attempt to keep the whimpers at bay. ‘I've become a monster.’

If Baekhyun is a whirlwind in an ocean, drowning itself in the force that it itself exerts, then Chanyeol is a hurricane: sudden and devastating as he unleashes himself into Baekhyun's safe space without warning. The Captain had barely heard him come in over the sound of his sobs.

"Baekhyun," his voice trembles. His hands, clenched by his side, do too. The sudden intrusion has the latter's eyes screwing shut as he tries to get a hold of himself and regain his composure, to wipe away the moisture staining his cheeks though he so desperately wants to drown in his own tears. He looks up to engage Chanyeol's resigned gaze with bloodshot eyes and a shaking body. Chanyeol's eyes mirror his, familiar distress thrashing within dark oceans. He's drowning too.

Two hazards meet, joining forces to create an area of mass destruction.

"What do you want, Park," he says. The hard steel usually injected into his words is no longer there, in its place is nothing but pure exhaustion. Taking in a shaky breath, he turns his back to the redhead as he furiously wipes his eyes. "Make it quick, I'm busy."

"Clearly." Chanyeol has never seen the Captain look so small. He has to tear his eyes away from his , covered in a thin layer of sweat and dried patches of scarlet blood. He has bigger things to worry about. "Baekhyun, you saved me. Why?"

The addressed does not reply for a second, instead, shutting his eyes for the briefest of moments. He doesn't know why Chanyeol had come to pick a fight with him, why there is so much accusation in his voice as if he'd have rather died than be standing before him right now, witnessing him in such a moment of weakness.

( Your enemy's weaknesses should be your strengths, Chanyeol's father had once taught him. But Chanyeol doesn't even know if he could call Baekhyun his enemy anymore, doesn't know if he should abide by anything his father has taught him anymore. )

Baekhyun spins around after much more time passes than Chanyeol would have liked. His eyes are steeled over as ever, but Chanyeol finds himself reading into the way his hands cling to his desk. To his constant. To his mission. He reads way too much into everything Baekhyun does these days, trying to find a story, a secret, a hidden cry for help in every one of his captor's movements. He almost fears that he's got him all figured out by now.

"Thought it would have been a shame to let you bleed out. Your father wouldn't have been too happy about that." The feigned nonchalance in his voice does not deter Chanyeol.

"Thank you, Baekhyun," the taller says, voice barely above a whisper. The latter is too stunned to reply so Chanyeol takes this as his opportunity to strike. Like he had learnt in training, you have to attack your opponent when their guard is down if you want to win.

This is a fight Chanyeol can't risk losing.

"You know, you're not actually a bad person," he muses. There is too much meaning in his voice to make the Captain feel comfortable.

"Why thank you, Park-"

"No I mean-" he runs a hand through hair the colour of a glowing flame as he cuts off Baekhyun's forced sarcastic reply, exhaling in exasperation. "You know you're not a bad person. So why keep making yourself out to be? Why keep trying to be someone you're not? Why let yourself be consumed by this endless rage and psychological torture?"

Baekhyun gawks at his hostage, bewildered by the sudden detour their conversation took. Drops of moisture still cling to his eyelashes but Chanyeol cannot allow himself to be distracted, cannot be so weak hearted when trying to get an answer out of Byun Baekhyun. That's something he'd learnt a while ago.

"Why not just let yourself be at peace, Baekhyun?" He looks like a pleading child now, it almost makes the Captain's heart skip a beat.

"Peace," the personification of Pain whispers the word, tests it out, feels how it rolls off his tongue with difficulty; it sticks in the back of his dry throat and his Adam's apple bobs in an attempt to swallow the word down along with all its wretched connotations. He looks and sounds as if he were on the verge of breaking. But Chanyeol supposes he'd been broken long before this. "Is there even such a thing?" His eyes are anywhere but Chanyeol.

"Of course there is," the overgrown child in front of him insists, taking a step closer towards him as he reaches out, voice begging for him to look up. Baekhyun never knew he was claustrophobic until his bedroom suddenly seemed to shrink before his very eyes and all the walls around his heart started breaking down. "Of course there is, Baekhyun."

"Then I guess the Gods do not wish peace upon me." He glides away, easily stepping out of Chanyeol's reach, pushing past him. He's dancing around him like a shadow running from the light. His arms cross over his chest unconsciously, keeping whatever kind of barrier he can between him and Chanyeol. Lord only knows he'd find a way to break that down too. The fiery haired man turns on his heel, never keeping his attention off of him. Baekhyun drowns and suffocates in the pools of black understanding. He doesn't want to be understood. He wants to be left alone. He is who he is and no heart felt speech is going to change that. "They wish suffering upon suffering on me. One of those sufferings is listening to the ramblings of a boy who believes he knows me." The harsh growl that erupts from the Captain's throat flies over Chanyeol's head and is thrown into the wind.

"Don't I know you, Baekhyun?" The addressed's jaw opens and closes repeatedly, a thousand retorts sitting on the tip of his tongue yet not even one manages to break free from the confines of his lips. Chanyeol speaks in his stead. "You make yourself seem so complex, so unattainable, so emotionally unavailable to feel anything besides anger but in reality, you're just like me; a boy. A lost boy." Kyungsoo's words seem all the more believable coming from his mouth.

Each word is a bullet to Baekhyun's gut, leaving him breathless and gasping, pain prickling through his body all the way to his fingertips that curl in on themselves to mask their uncontrollable quivering. Chanyeol is not faring much better.

The fiery haired male takes a step closer and this time, Baekhyun lets him. "I know who you are. I know you're trying to hide something. What is it?" Chanyeol tries to look underneath his mask - "Your vulnerability? Your naivety?" - and this time, Baekhyun lets him.

"My heart." They are but simple words yet that take all of his energy to spit out. He takes a shaky breath before continuing, finding strength in the eyes of a boy who is just as wrecked as him. He swims in those oceans of darkness. "I'm trying to hide my heart, Park. I don't wish to go through love and the pain of inevitable loss again. I don't wish to love anything like I loved my father, like I loved the sea, for the risk of losing it all and being left lost and empty once it is gone." Chanyeol stops himself from moving and covering those small, trembling fists with his own large palms. He's only just got Baekhyun to let him in. He can't risk scaring him away. "You shouldn't be so naive either, shouldn't be so open and trusting to everyone. Shouldn't believe everyone is good on the inside."

"There's goodness in everyone Baekhyun." He realises now that it's truer than ever. "It's just that not everyone decides to show it. You try to hide it. But it's still there. It's unconsciously there. You saved me, you saved children in need, you care about your crew members. Unconscious kindness is the act of a truly pure soul."

"My soul is anything but pure." There is no bite to his words, only bitter resignation in acceptance of the truth. He tries to turn away from the taller but Chanyeol only dips his head down - closer - to find his gaze again. Out of desperation, Baekhyun screws his eyes shut. He fears he has no place to run to now. He blocks out the glassy, warm orbs that try to desperately look down into his, refuses to acknowledge that someone has seen through his facade, that someone actually cared enough to try.

"But I believe you're wrong." Another step closer this time. Another step closer to figuring him out. "I believe you're the purest of us all." The shorter's eyelids fly open, torture bleeding across his features as he looks up into honest, pools of sincerity, searching for any sort of indication that Chanyeol is only here to scorn and mock him. But there is no lie in them.

Warm hands rest themselves on his shoulders, turning him slightly, pulling him closer to the source of warmth that melts away his icy exterior. It radiates and spreads itself over his body, engulfing him. Two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly. A riddle unravelling itself.

Baekhyun is hurting, he's broken, he's been broken for so long, unable to feel anything but hollow emptiness and anger that has no end yet also has no real source. But now there's someone here. Someone who makes him feel human, who reminds him he is human, capable of goodness, capable of feeling - if the thundering of his heartbeat is anything to go by. He's done running, he's done pushing everything away that doesn't fit into his agenda of self-destruction. For once, just this once, he'll allow himself to fall, to give in, to lose himself for a moment and lean into the blazing heat he so longs for. He's been cold for so long.

His hands find purchase against either side of the taller's neck, in the gentlest way possible, like he had back on the foreign ship with his thumbs brushing lightly against a strong jaw. Chanyeol's pulse rushes underneath his fingertips. His touches are gentle, soft, tentative, unsure but the taller knows better than to underestimate him.

In this dim light, with tear tracks still visible against smooth, porcelain cheeks and without any chains adorning his body - not even his ever present lip ring - Baekhyun looks so beautiful and defenceless. No fronts, no pretences, only plain Byun Baekhyun bearing his all for his hostage to see.

The lockdown of gazes isn't particularly lustful or consuming; it's not burning with want and need and longing. But it is intense, a quiet sort of yearning. Like an ache that rests just beneath your skin, insistent and close, begging for you to do something about it. With the way Chanyeol looks down at Baekhyun, eyes roaming across every single tortured feature before resting lightly on his lips like an afterthought, Baekhyun knows it's much more than just lust.

It's the coaxing warmth that exudes from the older, quietly being offered to him to indulge in. It's the stuttering of his held breath against his skin, assuring him that he's just as hesitant about making the next move as he is. It's the taller's neverending questions, the searching gazes, the way he acts as if he needs to know Baekkhyun, needs to decode him or everything they've been through would have been for nought. It's the way Baekhyun longs to give into the unknown, to feel the small embers, the small sparks of what could be and to see if he could make them burn as brightly as the stars themselves. And that's just it. That's what gives Baekhyun the strength to tip toe up, pull him down and lock their lips together in a kiss that's entirely experimental yet nothing but addictive.

If Chanyeol is disapproving of Baekhyun's sudden boldness and constantly fluctuating hot and cold reception of him then he doesn't show it. He, in turn, moves his own lips against pierced ones, plush and warm against his captor's - the man who he was meant to resent with a passion. His hands move to the small of his back, pulling him in closer and closer and closer, impossibly so, to recreate that passion in a different form. 

The sparks build up, slowly at first. Until they allow themselves to be devoured by the flames.

Gentle touches morph into a raging inferno, as all things with Baekhyun do. He is not capable of feeling in small, controlled quantities. With him, it's all or nothing. He'd always thought he lived half alive, numb, with an inability to feel, but Chanyeol proved him otherwise. Baekhyun feels too much, everything and anything and nothing at all. Baekhyun's alive and alight and there's no one to thank for that other than Chanyeol.

And so he thanks Chanyeol in the only way his pride knows how.

Skin skims along skin, leaving ripples of ecstasy in their wake. Rough, calloused hands explore new territory as greedy fingers tear at rumpled clothes, leaving them strewn across the floor. Lips move against lips in a fiery battle of dominance that does nothing but coil that ball of roaring fire in Baekhyun's gut tighter and tighter. Broken boys find solace in each other. Together they are whole.

Chanyeol's touch on him sets his soul ablaze. ‘I want to burn,’ he thinks with rapture. ‘I want to burn.’