The island is beautiful. It’s dominated by trees and rocks, but homes litter the grounds as well, while houseboats line the ocean. The nights are short-lived, but the day is filled with children’s laughter and the smell of grilled meat being served on skewers. The island is Jongin’s home and has been for his whole life. He loves everything about it; that he can hear wind chimes from where he stands, toes digging into his flip-flops and nose inhaling the scent of ginger lilies that the breeze carries across the beach.

 

As a child he would play in the waters, avoiding jellyfish, but searching for starfish to carry to the shore and see if they’d still be there the next day.

 

Now, Jongin frequents the dock instead, finding the creak of the wood comforting rather than nerving. He eyes his humble fishing boat, white with rust lining the edges, but it only serves evidence of his late father’s adventures on it. He hums to himself, his bronze cheeks tightening and showing off his bright smile. 

 

Hauling his fishing gear on board, he carefully steps over the ledge, placing his rod and bag on the bench before sitting down himself. Jongin prepares the motor, clicking everything into place and then pulling it to start. The roaring engine is familiar as he watches the waves of the water. 

 

He’s been doing this since he was young. Now that his father is no longer beside him to nag lovingly, he sits alone and continues to fish for the locals and himself. His father would be happy knowing he’s carrying on the tradition.

 

After a minute, he pushes the choke on the motor, putting it to a quiet purr.

 

The sun is especially harsh today, he can already feel the sweat forming on his temples as he pulls his tank away from his sticky chest, fanning it in hopes of cooling off. It does him enough to be able to stand up again and adjust the handle, pulling another one to finally get the boat moving away from the dock and further into the waters.

 

 

The ocean seems lively. Jongin has already caught several fish in a short span of time. Although, he’s decided to go a bit further away from the island, to the point where it’s a mere speck in the distance. Of course, it’s more dangerous, but it offers him a fatter pocket when he gets back. There weren’t many fishers on the island anymore, the younger generations finding it boring to sit in a boat all day under the blistering sun, they would rather travel the sea and make a home in the city. 

 

Jongin always thought it meant more fish for him to catch.

 

Feeling a pull on his fishing rod, Jongin stands up from the bench and teeters closer to the edge. He slowly reels the line in, anticipating what would be on the end. The fish doesn’t seem to be putting up a fight, so he easily brings it to the surface, only to sigh in disappointment when it’s a small yellowtail. It doesn’t bother him too much as he grabs the line and brings the flopping fish into his grasp, unhooking it and throwing it into the cooler along with a few others.

 

He decides to end the day when he pulls his small fishing net back up from the bottom of the ocean, finding prawns and seaweed sewn into it.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

“How was today’s catch?”

 

Jongin finishes tying his fishing boat to a plank of wood and turns towards his best friend Minseok. Minseok is a boy of dreams and optimism. He is one of many who wish to set foot in the city Keena where Baekhyun, a friend who now lives in the city because of his uncle, swears is magical. Jongin doesn’t understand nor does he care for the urban lifestyle appeal. He’d much rather stick to the island where everyone knows each other.

 

“Not bad,” Jongin answers. “I got a bunch of prawn in my net this time, the elders will be glad to hear.”

 

Minseok helps Jongin carry his gear and the fish box onto the dock with a heavy sigh. “That seems to be all you catch lately,” he points out with a raised brow.

 

Jongin laughs. “My catches feed half the village Min, don’t be ridiculous.” Minseok groans and Jongin smirks. “You’re just upset your mother has been cooking my prawns all the time now.”

 

“Exactly,” Minseok admits. “I crave a steak, I’ll be sick if I eat another fish.”

 

Jongin snorts, knowing Minseok is the first to pester him to save the biggest catch for his family. He always caves in, for Minseok is his biggest helper without accepting any money in return. He watches this as the said boy dodges a tree and makes his way into the village, Jongin following behind with his gear.

 

“I’ve already set up your spot,” Minseok informs as children run past with candied grapes in their hands.

 

“You’re the best Min!”

 

The marketplace in the town is starting to pick up as they make their way through it, the sun showing mercy and allowing people to come outside. Shops are setting up, the elderly happily showing off their goods to the few tourists, orphans playing hopscotch barefoot in the shade, and persuasive prices being shouted from left and right. This is what Jongin has come to know.

 

The two friends finally arrive at their booth, styrofoam boxes filled with ice laid out around two stools. It has become their spot, amongst the other fishermen and butchers, but the perfect one nonetheless. Well, that’s what Jongin thinks, anyway.

 

They open Jongin’s cooler where his catches lay, some still jerking and winking their gills despite being spiked already.

 

“Not bad,” Minseok murmurs.

 

“Told you so.”

 

Minseok scoffs at Jongin’s arrogant grin, smacking his arm and emptying the fish into the styrofoam boxes. “Too bad you always cave in when people bargain,” he scolds as he lays the prawns out onto their stomachs.

 

“I love my people, what can I say?”

 

Laughing, the older of the two settles onto a stool next to Jongin’s, watching as locals fill the street.

 

Soon enough, customers are scanning the fish and asking prices, clicking their tongues and complaining about how they’ve rent to pay and that Jongin should lower it. If it were up to Minseok, he’d tell them to bug off because they’ve got to pay for their rents too. Unfortunately for him Jongin gives him the I’m-the-one-who-fishes look and shuts him up. Minseok rolls his eyes at his friend, silently telling him off in his head. Half the time Jongin doesn’t even know he’s doing it, but he’s making all the women of the town fall head-over-heels for him. It’s especially obvious when they loiter around the stall longer than necessary, asking Jongin when he’ll find himself a girl and how their daughters are single.

 

It’s when Jongin plays along, giggling and complementing the old ladies, that Minseok really wants to punch him.

 

“Mrs. Lee, you can’t possibly be in your fifties. I could’ve sworn you weren’t even married yet!”

 

“Tch, Jongin! Are you trying to say something here?”

 

“I’d definitely make all the other men jealous!”

 

Minseok grits his teeth from his spot, side-eyeing the woman who’s blushing in glee at Jongin’s sickeningly sweet comments.

 

 

The sun is barely setting, the fish are already all sold—a few baby mackerels are left, but that’s a perfect dinner to end the day. Minseok languidly walks along next to Jongin, yawning into his hand and stretching out his shoulders.

 

Jongin counts the coins and bills in his hand, mumbling to himself before brightening up. “Hey, I think I can finally buy myself a new grill.”

 

“You could’ve bought many more things if it weren’t for your foolishly good manners.”

 

Jongin pouts. “What do you mean?”

 

“You gave old lady Jung a salmon for dirt cheap!” Minseok complains, face scrunching into a grimace.

 

“It was from yesterday’s catch!”

 

“So?”

 

Groaning light-heartedly, Jongin shakes his head. “Life isn’t all about money Min! Life is about the ocean, the cries of the seagulls, the breeze, and barbecued chicken. I don’t need money to be happy.”

 

“Ugh, I hate people like you, I really do. What gets you barbecued chicken? Money.”

 

“Alright, alright, fine. But hey, everything balances out when Juhee’s mother buys two salmons and tips thanks to my charms,” Jongin mentions, walking backwards to shoot Minseok a smile.

 

Minseok pretends to heave, making Jongin laugh. “You’re going to accidentally get yourself married one day.”

 

It doesn’t sound so bad to Jongin. Coming back home from selling his fish at the market to a lively home, a mini version of himself running around, a pretty wife who rubs his shoulders at night. It sounds perfect, in fact.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

A storm had hit the island, lasting a whole three hours resulting in Jongin skipping out on fishing for a day. When he steps out of his home, a humble building with various animal statues in the front, the atmosphere is damp and warm. Jongin almost wants to turn around and spend the day in his air conditioned house, but he misses the ocean already. 

 

With a sigh he makes his way towards the beach. Luckily, his house isn’t far from it. It’s the perfect distance from both the market and the beach; the only two places he frequents.

 

He walks along the cleared path, humming a tune, hands swaying back and forth with the weight of his fishing gear. Bird chirps slowly silenced and were replaced with the sound of waves crashing as the ground turned from grass to sand. Jongin finds himself in the place he loved the most without much thought to where he was going, almost like a magnetic pull. He breathes in the smell of plankton masked by the waves and salt, stretching out his arms and exhaling loudly. It’s impossible to not smile at the beautiful scenery as he flicks his sandals off by a rock.

 

His smile falters when he sees a bright orange blur in the distance. Seagulls squawk and fly above it which is never a good sign, making Jongin drop his equipment and dash towards the figure.

 

It could easily be someone taking a nap, he thinks as he struggles running through the sand. 

 

But it’s rare for them to be alone, and not on a towel. Plus, tanning isn’t something people of the island go out of their way to do. And as he approaches closer, the orange blur defines itself as a life vest, wrapped around a frail body of a man.

 

“Hey!” Jongin yells as his knees hit the coarse sand, landing next to the person’s torso. He pauses at how pale the other looks, plush lips parted and a calm expression on his delicate features. Jongin’s never seen this man before and his alabaster skin only furthers his suspicion; he’s from a different land. Remembering the dilemma at hand he quickly unbuckles the life vest, shaking the man from his shoulders.

 

“Hey! Can you hear me?” There’s no response. “,” Jongin grunts. He adjusts his position, placing both of his hands on the person’s sternum and pushing down. He continues to push, glancing at the man’s face for any sign of consciousness.

 

Suddenly there’s fingers wrapped around his wrist and coughing. Jongin helps the man onto his side, allowing him to cough up water and clear his airway.

 

He worriedly watches as the man brings his knees up and holds his hands up to his throat, continuously coughing with raspy breaths in between. Jongin wishes he brought a water bottle with him or something.

 

Slowly, the stranger recovers and all the while Jongin can’t help but stare. He was incredibly handsome. Oddly familiar, but mesmerizing more than anything. “Are you okay?” Jongin asks, not knowing what to do.

 

His question is ignored and instead stared at, utter confusion on the other’s face. The man sits up, looking around himself and squinting at the birds in the sky. It’s clear he has no idea where he is.

 

“You’re in Melawan,” Jongin informs hesitantly.

 

The stranger winces, swallowing his spit before opening his mouth. “T-that’s so far,” he rasps.

 

“Far from where?”

 

“I…I don’t know.”

 

Jongin nods, he must be disoriented and tired. “Can you walk?”

 

The pain on the other’s face is enough of an answer for Jongin to turn around and kneel. “Climb on my back,” he instructs, glad when the man obliges. Making sure his thin legs are secure against his waist, Jongin stands and treks his way through the sand with the added weight of the man. He’s once again thankful that his home isn’t far from the beach as he continues to walk. Soon enough, he feels the stranger’s head loll against his neck as soft breaths escape him.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

Jongin couldn’t bring himself to do anything else while the man was sleeping on his bed. He would occasionally check his temperature by feeling his forehead to make sure he wasn’t getting a fever, but besides that he mostly dawdled around. 

 

It wasn’t until the evening when he decided to cook something, just in case the stranger woke up hungry—which Jongin was positive he would be.

 

Missing the catch of the day, he didn’t have much else other than a bag of rice in his pantry and a bowl of beef marinating in the fridge. It’s not like the man was a king or something, so he decided to cook the two things, adding his favourite seasonings and boiling the rice extra just the way he liked it.

 

He could hear some noises in his small one bedroom home. Being a one floor building it wasn’t too hard to hear footsteps over the sizzling of the meat. Jongin turns around to see the man leaning against the kitchen entrance, eyebrows furrowed in confusion but eyes hungrily staring at the pan over the stove.

 

“You’re awake!” Jongin greets, a bit stupidly so he smiles sheepishly.

 

“Who are you?” the other asks, arms wrapped around his torso. Jongin notices how narrow his shoulders are.

 

“My name is Kim Jongin. I live on this island here. I found you on the beach, alone, knocked out; I assumed you washed up ashore?” And suddenly Jongin is second-guessing himself. , what if he was just a tourist who got drunk off his , and Jongin brought him home like an idiot. The life vest though, that had to be a sign of some shipwreck.

 

“W-Where did you say this was?” The man asks. He looks dizzy so Jongin pulls out a chair from the dining table for him, which he gladly takes.

 

“Melawan. It’s just off the border, east of the country.”

 

The man puts his head into his hands and Jongin can only imagine what kind of headache he’s nursing. “My name’s Do Kyungsoo… that’s—that’s all I remember.” He looks off at the window across the room. “I’m very hungry,” he mumbles.

 

“Oh, right!” Jongin exclaims, turning back around and taking the meat off the stove. He takes out bowls and utensils, placing a bountiful bed of rice and beef before bringing it to the table and taking a seat across from Kyungsoo. He waits until the other digs in, stuffing his face and focusing solely on his food. Jongin feels bad for disturbing him, after all he must be starved, but his curiosity was piqued. “So, you’re not from this island?”

 

Kyungsoo takes a moment to chew and swallow, and then drink from his water. “No. I’m from the city, I think. Lots of people, cars…” he trails off, a hard look of concentration on his face. He groans again, putting his spoon down and running a hand through his salt-dry hair. “I really can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?”

 

Jongin laughs guiltily. “It’s okay, really! I don’t mean to push you or anything. There must be people looking for you, I’m sure. Maybe after you get some rest we can ask people around town, and notify the police as well.”

 

Quirking a weak smile, Kyungsoo nods tiredly. “Thank you, for taking care of me. I’m just a stranger to you, but you’ve been very kind.”

 

“It’s no problem,” Jongin bashfully brushes off.

 

It’s a bit later, when Jongin is filling up the tub for Kyungsoo, that he thinks how surreal it is that he became a host for the man in a matter of hours.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

The next morning Jongin almost forgets there’s another person in his house until he’s awoken by a loud noise coming from the kitchen. Startled, he jolts up from his bed and grabs a shirt to throw on before leaving his room. 

 

Reaching the kitchen, he sneaks his head out of the entryway seeing a panicked Kyungsoo who is hurriedly picking up fallen fishing equipment from the floor. Jongin can’t help but let a laugh leave his mouth which alerts the other of his presence. Kyungsoo turns around with a fishing rod in hand and stares at Jongin like he’s done the biggest crime. Looking between him and the gear on the floor he flusters trying to look nonchalant. “Um, I was just—” Kyungsoo begins to say before letting his eyes fall to his feet. “I’m sorry for waking you,” he mumbles after seemingly giving up on putting up the innocent act.

 

Jongin enters the kitchen shaking his head. “No, it’s fine.” He kneels down next to the other and helps him straighten up the equipment, untangling the roll of fishing line from his fingers. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Better,” Kyungsoo answers. “I still can’t remember anything—at all really. It’s extremely frustrating.”

 

“I can only imagine,” Jongin replies giving a sorry smile.

 

Silence befalls on them and Kyungsoo awkwardly fidgets, grazing the wood of a fishing rod with his finger tip. “Do…you fish?”

 

“Yes, it’s my job. Passed down from my father.”

 

Kyungsoo makes a sound of interest, examining the fishing gear a little closer. “I-I’ve never caught my own fish before,” he says giving Jongin a hesitant look.

 

Jongin raises his brows in surprise. “Really?” He doesn’t think he knows anyone who hasn’t fished before, in fact it was considered abnormal to not have. “Not even shell hunting?”

 

“I’ve never heard of such a term,” Kyungsoo replies, wide eyes glimmering in curiosity.

 

Believing that everyone should have such an experience Jongin hums in thought. “I’ll definitely have to take you the next time I fish! I’ve got tons of extra rods, how ‘bout it?”

 

Smiling, Kyungsoo nods. “That would be lovely.”

 

Standing up from his crouched position, Jongin motions Kyungsoo to do the same. Taking a look at his bare kitchen, he sheepishly glances at Kyungsoo who only stares back in expectancy. “Why don’t we go to the market for breakfast?”

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

Jongin feels like some sort of bodyguard with the way Kyungsoo latches onto his side. If the man truly came from the city then the hectic marketplace shouldn’t be too much of a shock. Kyungsoo however discreetly holds onto the end of his shirt, warily looking from left and right and nearly having a heart attack when a local walks by with a handful of beheaded chickens.

 

And it’s even harder not to laugh when Kyungsoo shyly thanks a little girl who calls him handsome.

 

“Having fun yet?” Jongin leans over to say in his ear.

 

Kyungsoo nods, stepping closer to the other as they wait in line for grilled corn cobs. “It’s quite breathtaking. The people are very kind and everything is just so colourful and—it’s hard to know where to look.”

 

That sounds about right to Jongin. When Baekhyun returns to Melawan once in a blue moon he would always complain about how indecent the people of the island were and that folks from Keena would never walk around barefoot. To Jongin that’s the beauty of the island; the rawness and the earth of it all. Once in a while Minseok and him would visit the pub where a television mounts on the wall, and there they would get a taste of the city, where news report of crime and new laws. The island isn’t perfect either, but it’s got a charm that Jongin could never think about replacing. It makes him smile that Kyungsoo seems to somewhat grasp this.

 

It’s finally their turn to step up to the cart which is run by old man Eun’s wife. Her greying hair is pulled back into a straw hat, hands and face leathered from the sun, but her grin is just as wide as Jongin remembers from when he was only a kid.

 

“A new friend Jongin?” she greets eyeing Kyungsoo with a kind look in her eyes.

 

“This is Kyungsoo,” he introduces. He wants to add on that he found him washed up, that the man can’t remember where he came from, but it never leaves his mouth.

 

She ah’s and takes Kyungsoo’s hands into her own. “Such hands have never seen a day of labour,” she points out, but there’s no scorn in her words and she eyes Kyungsoo lovingly.

 

Jongin glances at Kyungsoo to see him a bit dazed so he laughs instead.

 

“Here, here, Jongin dear. Take these for yourself and your friend.”

 

Accepting the wrapped corn cobs with surprise he grins gratefully. “Thank you, your corn is always the greatest.”

 

Laughing, she shoos them away with her tongs, mumbling nonsense about Jongin being such a good boy.

 

The two leave the food cart area where it starts to get busy with people, moving aside to a few tables set up by a restaurant which Jongin hopes they don’t notice they’re occupying. He knows the owner has always found him to be a nuisance since Jongin’s childhood where he would use the tables as a gathering ground for the dead insects he’d find lying around. His bug findings came to an end when the owner had complained to his father and he wasn’t allowed to join him on his fishing adventures for a week.

 

Treat everyone and thing with kindness, Jongin.

 

“You’re popular,” Kyungsoo observes after the fourth person passing by asks Jongin how his day has been.

 

Jongin shrugs picking the stray corn out of his teeth with his tongue. “Everyone knows each other here,” he replies. “It’s why you’re being stared at so much, no one recognizes you and that’s a crazy thing for us.”

 

Kyungsoo nods in understanding. “This island…it reminds me of something, I can’t quite place my finger on it.”

 

As they settle into a conversation about the unique birds that fly in the land’s skies, they stroll through the greenery that leads to Jongin’s home, stomachs full of the chicken kabobs Jongin bought before leaving. Busy watching Kyungsoo’s eyes glimmer and cheeks raise in result of a smile—Jongin gets lost in his shining skin and deep voice, completely forgetting why the man was on the island in the first place.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

“Make sure you hold on tight,” Jongin instructs Kyungsoo, placing his hands on top of the other’s. “And put your thumb”—he moves Kyungsoo’s thumb to rest against the cork material of the fishing rod’s handle—“here.”

 

Kyungsoo stiffly nods his head which doesn’t particularly stand out to Jongin.

 

“Oh, and don’t let the reel post in-between your fingers, it could give you a cramp,” he advises. He smiles, pleased at Kyungsoo’s quick grasp on fishing when he follows through, adjusting his fingers into a natural fist.

 

“L-like this?” Kyungsoo meekly asks, seeking reassurance when he glances up with wide eyes.

 

“Perfect!” Jongin exclaims, unable to minimize his grin; no one ever wanted to fish with him, deeming the job boring. He was more than happy that Kyungsoo seemed interested.

 

They were both sitting on Jongin’s boat, the slight sway from the waves rocking it gently. The wind was stronger than usual, which was nice since it cooled their heated skin. The fish box was already halfway full, Jongin having demonstrated a lot on how to catch a fish thanks to Kyungsoo’s worries of ruining the rod, the boat, the water, everything. Jongin had laughed when Kyungsoo almost screamed when the blank of the rod had bent from the weight of a fish trying to escape its capture. The smaller had jumped from his seat, anxiously pointing out to Jongin that it was going to break.

 

Jongin had to reassure him it was completely normal behind a chuckle.

 

Now, Kyungsoo was starting to get the gist of it all, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled into a pout in focus. It was entertaining to Jongin as someone who knew every nook and cranny about fishing—where it comes to him naturally—to see another do it all with unneeded precision. It was adorable in a sense. Kyungsoo was definitely a man who walked with purpose, but seeing him in such an atmosphere was almost child-like and cute.

 

“This requires a lot more work than I had previously thought,” Kyungsoo mumbles, rolling his shoulders a bit.

 

Jongin absentmindedly rubs his back, patting it for good measure. “It shouldn’t, it’s quite relaxing actually.”

 

Kyungsoo clears his throat, straightening his posture. “Glad to know you find the murdering of sea animals relaxing.”

 

He sees Kyungsoo’s smirk and whines. “Don’t put it that way, I get nightmares of fishes growing legs and chasing me.”

 

A laugh bubbles from Kyungsoo’s chest, his eyes squinting in glee. “How unfortunate,” he manages out, eyeing Jongin’s unamused expression.

 

“It’s not funny,” Jongin mumbles, secretly smiling when Kyungsoo turns back towards the water.

 

A moment later Kyungsoo gasps, jumping up and fumbling with the fishing rod. “J-Jongin! It’s moving, it’s moving!”

 

“Alright, careful…” Jongin soothes, moving himself to stand behind Kyungsoo and placing his hands on his shoulders. “Give it a little jerk, make sure the hook is in there.”

 

Kyungsoo does, or at least tries. He struggles with it, the rod shaking from the tension, but he gives a huff when he finally has his arms up.

 

Jongin wraps his arms around Kyungsoo to place his hands over his, leaning his head next to the smaller’s to get a good look at the fishing line.

 

“See how the reel is moving on it’s own? You let it do that, this guy is a big one and we want him to think he’s won. Okay, just make sure the blank isn’t straight—we don’t want that.” Jongin continues to explain what’s happening and what the next step is. “Okay, ready to reel him in?”

 

After not getting an answer he turns his head to see Kyungsoo staring at him, a dazed look in his eyes.

 

“Come on, don’t chicken out now,” Jongin laughs. “It’s not hard, I’ll help you pull him in.”

 

Kyungsoo flusters, embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mumbles. He takes a deep breath as Jongin holds his hand in his own and starts to turn the reel. “It’s heavy,” Kyungsoo breathes out, arms straining. 

 

After a bit more of a struggle, with Kyungsoo barely moving between Jongin’s arms as the taller excitedly comments that they almost have him, they finally pull it out of the water. Jongin untangles himself from Kyungsoo and grabs a net as the other stands there with his arms out, face terrified while the fish jiggles the line, trying to escape. “Oh goodness, Jongin it’s going to escape, oh dear, oh dear—”

 

Jongin laughs, grabbing the fishing line, allowing Kyungsoo to ease his arms down. He brings the flopping fish into the net, awing and bringing it closer for the other to see. “Look at him! Nearly the size of my arm.”

 

Kyungsoo cringes, backing away. “It smells putrid.”

 

“It tastes delicious,” Jongin playfully retorts. “I should bring you on all my fishing trips. You can be my lucky charm.”

 

With a light scoff, Kyungsoo nudges Jongin’s arm. “If I were to catch all of your fish you would lose your skill and once I go back home you would starve this land of fish,” he points out with a raised brow and an inquiring smile.

 

“I’ll just keep you here forever then.” Jongin tilts the net, dropping the fish onto the floor and picking up his ice pick, driving the sharp end into the brain of the unfortunate animal.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

It’s not until a week after finding Kyungsoo does Jongin finally meet Minseok again. 

 

The older boy had gone to visit his grandfather up in the hills, where trees grew horizontally and the vegetation was prominent thanks to the damp atmosphere. Not many live there, mostly the older generation simply because of the traditional way of living. 

 

Down where they lived was just the slightest more modernized, a growing economy thanks to the restaurants and clothing stores that were slowly opening. Jongin didn’t mind it though, for they were still owned by the locals and it all just came back in a full circle when the restaurants buy their meat and produce from the local farmers.

 

Besides all that, Minseok seems thankful when he comes back from the hills, perhaps the ways of the people up there were just a little too raw.

 

Jongin waves at Minseok who jogs up to him and Kyungsoo, the sand flying from his feet. Jongin and Kyungsoo had just got off of the boat, finished with a fishing trip, rods resting against their shoulders and a fish box in-between them.

 

Laughing, Jongin embraces Minseok tightly, breathing in his best friend’s scent and patting his back. “I missed you.”

 

“It’s only been a week, how’d you do without me?” Minseok questions pulling back from the hug.

 

Jongin turns around, reaching for Kyungsoo’s wrist and pulling him to stand next to him. “This is Kyungsoo,” he introduces. “He’s been helping me fish and frankly I’ve been doing great without you Min.”

 

Minseok smacks Jongin’s arm before politely smiling at Kyungsoo. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m surprised you would join this guy out on the waters,” Minseok jokes making a face to convey that Jongin is crazy.

 

Kyungsoo takes it light-heartedly, chuckling with a shrug of his shoulders. “Actually, I’m lost from my home. Jongin found me on the beach, I can’t remember anything from my past and we think I must have been on a ship before it crashed.” Kyungsoo scratches his head and glances at Jongin with a smile. “He has been taking care of me ever since.”

 

Sobering up, Minseok’s face turns serious. “You were washed ashore?” he asks in disbelief. “That’s insane—Jongin you’ve told the police?”

 

“Of course,” Jongin replies with a bit of a lilt in his voice. “They told me they have no records of a Do Kyungsoo missing and that they would let me know if anything comes up.”

 

Kyungsoo nods his head. “Yes, Jongin has done everything he can. I’m very thankful. I suppose it’s time for me to just wait, I am lucky faith has chosen me such a lovely island to have my stay.”

 

Minseok warily looks between the two. “T-That’s a terrible thing to go through Kyungsoo, I’m so sorry.”

 

With another shrug Kyungsoo’s smile falters. “I do not remember anything. I like to think that my amnesia has allowed me to be happier with the lack of memories to look back upon.”

 

Jongin smiles sadly. Kyungsoo had grown accustomed to the island, in fact his skin had tanned slightly and his hands no longer blistered from holding a fishing rod. He had started to enjoy the saltier meats and wasn’t afraid to stick his thumb in a fish’s mouth and hold it up like a trophy. 

 

He was slowly becoming an island boy.

 

“I’ll do anything to get you home,” Jongin says, letting the words float in the air.

 

A grateful smile graces Kyungsoo’s face and Jongin thinks sadness or anything less than happiness doesn’t suit him at all.

 

“I’m glad you’re at least enjoying your stay,” Minseok notes. He turns back to Jongin. “I’ve set up the booth already, ‘thought you would be done fishing by now.”

 

“You’re seriously the best Min.”

 

With the fish box being carried by Minseok, Kyungsoo and Jongin comfortably walk along the beach and into the trees, until they hear the familiar sounds of the market at its peak. The locals calling out their prices left and right didn’t bother Kyungsoo anymore and he had grown used to seeing random cattle being led by their owners through the dirt pathway. He can’t help it though when he subconsciously leans closer to Jongin’s side, not wanting to get lost in the chaos.

 

They approach the butcher area of the market, where owners of their vendors have their fresh meat laid out, swatting away flies with a makeshift fan. The smell doesn’t make Kyungsoo want to cover his nose anymore either. The smell of the ocean was much worse and having become used to that it wasn’t too hard to ignore the telltale smell of the flesh of animals.

 

The three of them arrive at the empty booth, ice and styrofoam already prepared thanks to Minseok. Since Kyungsoo’s arrival and the lack of Minseok’s presence, he had been the one to help Jongin set up the table and signs. He didn’t mind it though, it was in a way a form of repayment to Jongin for generously letting him into his home and keeping his stomach fed.

 

Minseok whistles when he sets the fish box down and opens it to be met with plentiful. He doesn’t hesitate to grab two fish with his bare hands and holds them up for their scales to glimmer in the sun. “Look at these bad boys!”

 

Jongin chuckles. “Kyungsoo seems to be my lucky charm.”

 

The said male doesn’t hesitate to blush this time.

 

“Well, the village has you to thank then,” Minseok says with his back turned as he starts to lay out the fish on the ice.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

The day only gets hotter and it’s a little straining for Minseok to continue to stand around. It was always him and Jongin therefore the two stools he had set up for the booth seemed appropriate. He had no idea that Jongin would suddenly find himself a friend within a stranger who washed up ashore. And how unfortunate it was for Minseok to have to stand there because of Jongin quickly pulling Kyungsoo to sit down underneath the shade.

 

It’s not a problem, really, Minseok has always found it important to treat the guest the best one can. It’s just hard for him to not feel the slightest bit left out when all Jongin does is talk to Kyungsoo, telling him stories that Minseok has heard before but wouldn’t mind reminiscing.

 

Jongin doesn’t completely ignore him, of course. Minseok is kept by the small chest of money and is asked for change every now and then when a customer comes by.

 

He recognizes the look in Jongin’s eyes and he’s not jealous, honestly. He’s just worried. He knows how he gets.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

It feels odd not having Kyungsoo by his side. Jongin thinks about how close they had gotten as he walks along the path away from his home and into the village. 

 

The small male was so perfect in Jongin’s eyes. He understood him so well; understood how much the island meant to him, understood why fishing was special and even understood when Jongin was adamant on the silverware in the drawers to be facing the same way.

 

And he was beautiful. Although now tanned, his skin was still brilliant as the day he had arrived. His smile was the prettiest thing Jongin has laid his eyes on, and the browns of his eyes outshine the royal blue of the ocean any day. His voice was a calming lull and when he hummed songs that Jongin had never heard of before, it was like a blessing to his ears.

 

It was safe to say he was definitely developing a crush.

 

The realization makes Jongin chuckle on his walk, smiling stupidly as the sun goes down the horizon.

 

He promised Minseok to meet up with him at the pub—their usual gathering spot.

 

Once he makes it into the village which is now empty save for a few night walkers and orphans with nothing else to do, he follows the sound of gentle music and cheers.

 

Entering in he’s greeted by a few men who are sitting at the front, exhausted hands from labour lifting in a wave as Jongin respectfully replies. He looks around spotting Minseok sitting by the bar, a beer already in his hand as he chats with the bartender. Minseok notices him and grins as Jongin nears, taking a seat on the stool next to him.

 

“A beer as well, thank you Jiho,” Jongin orders watching as the bartender nods and turns towards the taps.

 

The pub is probably the most modern thing the village has, besides the newly opened supermarket that is a bit further away. It wasn’t a bad thing though, it was well-loved by the men who found it to be their only escape from their work and families for an hour at least. Jongin and Minseok definitely fell in love with it as well, it was a great place to catch up. Although Jongin lived on his own, his home was a bit of a trip for Minseok and the latter’s house was run by his younger siblings who loved to play with Jongin when he rarely came by.

 

The pub was the perfect spot.

 

“So,” Minseok starts, smacking his lips after a sip of his beer. “Where’s Kyungsoo?”

 

“I didn’t think you’d want him to intrude on our only time to be alone,” Jongin says, giving Minseok a slightly accusatory look.

 

Jiho brings over Jongin’s beer which allows Minseok to think over his words.

 

“Well, you guys just seem close already.”

 

It’s obvious where Minseok is trying to get at so Jongin decides to point it in a different direction. “He said he was tired and wanted to sleep. How was your visit up the hills?”

 

“Same old. Helped my grandfather plant his crops. Looks to be a bountiful one this fall.”

 

They continue to converse, beers emptying and voices gaining cheer. Jongin missed Minseok. He was truly his best friend and was always beside him no matter what.

 

It’s all smiles until Jongin’s eyes flicker towards the television, silent to accommodate the customers. He wishes he had never done so when a familiar face flashes on screen and words scroll across the ticker in capitals.

 

PRESIDENT’S SON DO KYUNGSOO SUDDENLY MISSING.

 

Jongin feels like he’s underwater, noise around him becomes mute and he feels cold all over. This couldn’t be true.

 

He quickly looks over towards Minseok, praying he didn’t catch what was on the TV. It’s obvious though, when Minseok stares at him with wide eyes, jaw slack.

 

Jongin gets up from his seat, unbothered by the unpaid tab. He doesn’t care. He’s given the owner’s wife enough dirt cheap fish to care.

 

“Jongin!”

 

Ignoring Minseok’s voice he makes a beeline towards the door, slamming it open and stepping outside, inhaling the air. He knows he’s having a panic attack. He knows in a few minutes he’s going to nag himself for overreacting, but right now he can’t be bothered. Kyungsoo is finally someone that is becoming his. The world can’t take him away. They can’t, they can’t do this to him again.

 

He feels dizzy and collapses to the floor, burying his head in his hands and he realizes he’s crying.

 

Minseok steps outside, wallet being put away in his pocket and he erratically looks around before noticing Jongin sitting on the ground pitifully.

 

“Jongin, hey, Jongin,” he chants, gently the other’s cheeks. “Come on, it’ll be fine.”

 

“No, no, no, they can’t, they can’t take him away from me!”

 

Bringing Jongin to stand up, Minseok sighs as he wraps one arm around his shoulders and walks him over to sit at a secluded bench. This scene was all too familiar and he knew that holding Jongin and letting him cry in his arms was the best thing to do.

 

And so he does just that. He Jongin’s hair, a blank expression on his face as he breathes against his neck.

 

It was pretty much the same episode about a year back. Except they were in Jongin’s home where he finally broke down about an hour after Baekhyun had left.

 

Minseok had always known Jongin had some sort of feelings for Baekhyun. Not necessarily romantically, but where he viewed him as his brother, one that he could rely on for anything. Minseok was a bit different, he was a best friend for Jongin, but Baekhyun was everything Jongin wanted to be. Strong, confident, ambitious.

 

It was only expected when he felt completely betrayed that Baekhyun had announced he was moving to the city Keena where his uncle resides.

 

While Baekhyun packed for his move, Minseok was there to see Jongin crumble. Every time Baekhyun would visit the village, Minseok would have to watch as Jongin’s wounds would resurface.

 

Of course, it wasn’t as bad as the day Jongin’s father had passed.

 

“You can’t tell him,” Jongin suddenly says, lifting his head up to stare at Minseok with pleading red eyes.

 

“Jong—”

 

“Please. Please. J-Just not now. Let me spend some more time with him, please.”

 

Minseok gulps, almost seeing Jongin’s broken heart through his tearful eyes. This was so wrong. They could go to jail for this. This was the president’s son they were talking about. It was absolutely insane they hadn’t been found out yet. “I thought you said you told the police—Jongin this is so wrong.”

 

Jongin bites his lip. Retracting from Minseok’s arms and curling in on himself; bringing his knees up onto the bench and hugging them. “I lied.”

 

“Jongin,” Minseok groans. “We are ing with someone’s life right now, do you understand that?”

 

“Please!” Jongin begs.

 

This is ludicrous. Minseok could save both of their asses and turn Kyungsoo in right now, but he knew how broken Jongin already was. It’s obvious he cares about Kyungsoo. “How long?” Minseok asks quietly. He looks down at his hands knowing how corrupt what he is doing is.

 

Jongin perks up, inhale stuttered. “…One month.”

 

“Jongin,” Minseok cries out, looking at the other with an exasperated look. “Need I remind you how much we could get in?”

 

“No one will know!” Jongin continues to desperately persuade. “Everyone is so caught up in their own , no one even knows what goes on outside this damned island. Please Minseok, he’s all I want.”

 

Minseok knows how Jongin gets. He knows that look in his eyes, but he can’t make himself say no. He rubs his forehead, knowing this is a bad decision. “Fine. One month, Jongin.”

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

Something heavy settles in the pit of Jongin’s stomach. No matter how many deep breathing techniques he uses it doesn’t seem to leave and he soon gives up, shallowly breathing on his walk home. It reminds him of the times he would forget his limits and would overeat until he had to lie on his back and focus on not suffocating. Except, it’s not a blissed out feeling. It’s a terrible feeling. Jongin knows what he made Minseok promise was criminal and keeping Kyungsoo to himself was even worse.

 

But it was just for a while. Just a little bit. Just until Jongin…

 

Well, he didn’t quite know until what.

 

All he knew was that it was far too soon to let someone like Kyungsoo go. Although a short amount of time had passed since his arrival, it was days of sunshine and laughter. Jongin hadn’t been so happy in a while. He missed having someone next to him during dinner and he missed babbling on about the fishing tournaments they had in the west.

 

Besides all that, Kyungsoo was special. Jongin knew there was something different about him ever since they caught their first fish together. Something so mundane was so extraordinary with Kyungsoo next to him and Jongin could see the same effect on their future. Buying a new grill wasn’t just buying a new grill, it was buying a new grill to cook his and Kyungsoo’s catches on, to hover over and nag about how Jongin wanted his skin to be crisp and Kyungsoo wanted his tender. They could do things together and be happy together, live together.

 

Jongin struggles to catch up with his world shifting.

 

As he nears his small home, animal statues shadowed from the backlight of the kitchen window, he feels completely lost.

 

He’s not an idiot. He knows Kyungsoo has to go home at one point. It’s the only thought that has Jongin in his unshed tears and walking into his home.

 

He should at least make the best of his time with Kyungsoo.

 

Walking inside he’s greeted with a clean home. The floors are shinier than they had ever been and the walls are pristine, cleaned of any smudges. He quietly toes his shoes off, looking around as he walks through the small hallway and enters the kitchen.

 

Kyungsoo is over the stove, in the process of sprinkling salt into a pot.

 

Jongin can’t help the swell in his heart at the sight.

 

Forgetting about the night’s events he sneaks up to the other, hands outstretched, ready to attack.

 

Kyungsoo squeaks when Jongin’s hands make contact with his sides and he swiftly turns around with a gasp. Once he realizes who the attacker is his face visibly relaxes. “Jongin!” he whines. “I could’ve burned myself!”

 

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Jongin hums, pulling Kyungsoo in for a hug.

 

It was something they had started doing. Hugging. 

 

It started with Jongin realizing sleeping on the floor with a measly blanket was most-likely uncomfortable for Kyungsoo and it only proved so when he started to complain about his back aching. So, Jongin invited him into his bed and they slept in each other’s arms completely relaxed. It was like second nature, to hold Kyungsoo in his arms. And now Jongin couldn’t get enough of him and his embrace that melted his lungs into goo and all he could breathe was Kyungsoo’s scent of jasmines. It was intoxicating and it proved to be another reason he needed Kyungsoo to be around him.

 

He opens his eyes to look over Kyungsoo’s shoulder at the pot on the stove, the latter’s face buried in his chest as they hug. “What are you making?”

 

Kyungsoo raises his head, smiling and stepping away. “I hope you don’t mind, but as I was tidying up I found some cookbooks. I decided to give one of the recipes a try.”

 

Interest piqued, he leans over to read the book that is open on the counter. It’s immediately recognizable, with the scribbles of add more next to the ingredient onion and the scratches on some of the directions. His father always liked having his own way with things after all.

 

“This is my dad’s,” Jongin states, brushing his fingers against the yellowed pages. “He always tried to cook for me, tried to be a mother too.”

 

“He’s right about the onions,” Kyungsoo quietly comments, playing with his fingers.

 

Jongin chuckles, resting his elbows on the countertop and turning to admire Kyungsoo. “Is it ready?”

 

Their voices stay quiet, like the air around them is fragile.

 

“Almost,” Kyungsoo replies. He keeps looking away as if shy of Jongin’s gaze. The other can only find it endearing. The whole situation has Jongin feeling giddy for some reason. Kyungsoo cleaning the house and going out of his way to cook was absolutely special and it had Jongin adoring his kind heart even more.

 

With a sigh he straightens up and goes to sit at the dining table. “Have you remembered anything?” he asks. It makes him want to cringe when it leaves his mouth. He can’t help but think that if Kyungsoo remembered his past on his own then the guilt weighing down his limbs would loosen. At the same time he doesn’t want him to remember at all.

 

“Actually,” Kyungsoo starts and Jongin’s eyes fly up to meet his. “I had this odd dream. I was stuck in this bedroom with nowhere to escape, except a tiny hole where ants were trickling in from. I simply sat on the floor and watched ants marching in the whole dream. Although, the room had photos of myself with other people, perhaps I knew them?” He glances at Jongin to gauge his thoughts on it.

 

Jongin shrugs, giving a sorry smile. “Maybe. Maybe this is all a dream right now,” he jokes, raising his brows like it’s the biggest plot twist.

 

Kyungsoo laughs and it makes Jongin’s heart speed up.

 

“You’re ridiculous.” He turns back towards the stove, turning the fire off and maneuvering towards the cabinets to pull out plates. “It’s a bit lacking,” Kyungsoo begins, referencing towards the stew. “There isn’t much in your fridge.”

 

“It’s a bad habit,” Jongin excuses, standing up to help Kyungsoo prepare their food. “I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious.”

 

“I’ve never cooked before,” Kyungsoo admits. “I thought I should give it a try. Especially if it means it would satisfy you in any way.”

 

Jongin bites his lip from smiling too hard. “You do more than enough for me.”

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head, a peaceful tilt to his lips. “Not enough. Nothing will ever be enough for what you’ve done for me. Without you taking me in, I would feel trapped on this island. Dare I say you’ve made it my home.”

 

Those words have Jongin feeling light on his feet, but they also have him looking away in guilt. Kyungsoo makes him out to be such a caring person, when he had no idea that Jongin was hiding his life away from him.

 

Jongin tries to remind himself that it will only be for a little while more.

 

He turns his head back to Kyungsoo to find the smaller grinning up at him, a treasuring twinkle in his beautiful eyes and it has Jongin split between keeping the man forever or running far away from him.

 

He doesn’t run away though. He slowly leans in, calculating every wisp of breath that escapes Kyungsoo’s parted lips, debating if there is any flicker of hesitation in the other’s eyes. Because despite not knowing his favourite colour or the day he was born, Jongin still cares for him like nothing else. And when Kyungsoo continues to stare up at him, as if expectant, he knows they both want what’s coming.

 

He closes the distance and connects their lips.

 

It feels like a bubble forms around the two of them, for all Jongin can make sense of is Kyungsoo’s hands coming up to hold his shoulders and his own to settle on his waist. He hears the tiny stutter in the other’s chest and feels every crevice and wrinkle on the other’s lips with his own. It’s amazing how wonderful Kyungsoo tastes, smells, feels in his arms, against his mouth. Jongin wants more than anything to press Kyungsoo against the kitchen’s counter and hold him close until he didn’t know whose arms were whose and whose breathing belonged to whose. He wants to feel Kyungsoo’s skin, wants to know if his thighs and chest are as soft as his hands. He wants to melt in anything and everything that comes with this man that gently kisses back.

 

But he doesn’t want to scare him off.

 

And it’s a battle within Jongin’s head, whether to take everything Kyungsoo has to offer because of his lack of time here, or to treat him preciously and take everything slow because of the exact same reason.

 

In the end, Jongin knows that Kyungsoo means more than just a one-time thing, he’s become the world to him. Even after he inevitably leaves, Jongin will remember forever.

 

He will take whatever Kyungsoo wants to give him and he will take it graciously. For the month he has left with this man, he will make sure it’s a perfect one.

 

Jongin just wants to know if Kyungsoo feels the same. He only craves the thought that the other man holds him dearly just as much.

 

Breaking away from the kiss he his lips, delighted at the thought that Kyungsoo’s saliva coats them.

 

The other looks at him with hooded eyes, cheeks flushed and hands firmly gripped onto Jongin’s shoulders.

 

“Will you stay with me? Stay here with me if you don’t find your past?” Jongin asks, voice barely above a whisper. A part of him wishes Kyungsoo doesn’t hear his question that screamed desperation.

 

Kyungsoo nods his head, eyes focused on the material of Jongin’s shirt. “Yes, of course.”

 

And Jongin knows it couldn’t be possibly true, not with the man in front of him being the president’s son. But for now, the promise lulls his heart to rest.

———

“You’ve gone completely crazy.”

 

Jongin doesn’t need this right now.

 

He’s fanning himself with a paper plate that’s folded in half—courtesy of their booth neighbour Mr. Lee who specializes in poultry. The sweat on his temples doesn’t ease and he only grows further irritated. “Not right now,” he grumbles, shooting Minseok a glare.

 

Minseok rolls his eyes because it’s always a not now or a drop it from Jongin. The eldest sits on a stool—he made sure to bring three this time—idly separating the baby snails from the clams in the cooler. The market was slow today, the heat keeping people indoors and it’s evident they’ll have to pack up soon if they don’t want the fish laid out in front of them to start to smell. 

 

Minseok thinks it’s a perfect time to talk alone with Jongin. The latter had been avoiding him outside of working together; always declining a drink at the pub or for him to pay his siblings a visit. Plus, Kyungsoo had finally detached himself from Jongin’s side and went to go buy them bottles of water.

 

“It’s been more than a month Jongin.”

 

Jongin kicks his feet off of the fish box that he was resting them on, glowering at Minseok.

 

Minseok doesn’t care though, this has gone on for far too long.

 

“Do you think I don’t know?” Jongin hisses. “It plagues my mind every time I hold him in my arms—do you not think it hasn’t driven me insane?” His voice comes out as a whisper, but the aggression has Minseok hardening his face as well.

 

“You’re being completely selfish! You’re going to get us both thrown into jail—”

 

“Kyungsoo!” Jongin exclaims, throwing a pointed look for Minseok to shut up over his shoulder. He stands from his seat, his smile becoming honest when Kyungsoo walks over and hands him a water bottle, politely giving Minseok one as well.

 

Jongin pulls Kyungsoo’s waist towards him, resting his chin on the other’s cap-covered head.

 

“I’ve merely been gone for a minute, have you missed me already?” Kyungsoo muses.

 

“How could I not miss you?”

 

Minseok scoffs from his spot, ignoring Jongin’s gaze. “You better get used to the feeling then.” He stands up from his seat, straightening out his t-shirt and leaving the booth with a huff.

 

With a gentle pout Kyungsoo pulls away from Jongin and worriedly watches Minseok walk away. “Is everything alright?”

 

Feeling dread dwell within his chest, Jongin clears his throat and focuses his attention on packing up the few fishes left from the day. “Why wouldn’t it be? The heat is just getting to him,” he reassures.

 

Kyungsoo chews on his lip, crouching down to help Jongin. He knows the two friends are arguing a lot lately and he couldn’t help but think it has something to do with him. He trusts Jongin though, so he takes his word for it.

 

———

 

Days go by of it just being Jongin and Kyungsoo.

 

Jongin doesn’t mind at all. Kyungsoo only etches his name further into his heart with each passing minute. It’s something he’s never felt before. He’s never had crushes as a kid, whereas Minseok and Baekhyun would talk about the cute girl that lived near the farms, he would only listen without being able to relate. Perhaps it was because of never knowing his mother or how his father came to have him, and he couldn’t see a proper relationship at home to imagine himself like that with someone else.

 

But with Kyungsoo, it was different.

 

He doesn’t need any ideas of a healthy relationship to be able to picture himself with Kyungsoo, holding hands, sitting amongst Jongin’s little collection of animal statues. Maybe they could even be known as the couple of the island.

 

“I’m ready.”

 

Jongin looks up at the timid voice. He stands up from his spot on the couch, outstretching his arm for Kyungsoo to take.

 

Kyungsoo who had just exited their now shared bedroom—clothes changed into something more comfortable for the humid night—takes the other’s hand with a shy smile. The warm light bulb above their heads casts a beautiful gold hue onto his cheekbones, accentuating his lashes as he looks down at their clasped hands.

 

“Where are we going?” Kyungsoo asks as they walk outside of their home. The door is left unlocked for no one would rob anyone here, especially in Jongin’s little forest of a neighbourhood.

 

“No matter how many times you ask—it’s not going to make me tell you. It’s a surprise.”

 

With a roll of his eyes Kyungsoo quietly hums along with the faint chirps of birds settling into their nests for the night. Crickets join into the chorus as well, the breeze gentle and it feels like the earth has settled down its children to hear Kyungsoo’s soft voice.

 

Listening intently, Jongin thinks about how Kyungsoo has become comfortable enough to sass at times. He still stayed polite as he always was, always humble and kind, but every now and then he would throw a joke that surprised Jongin. Pleasantly so.

 

They continue to walk hand-in-hand, Jongin sometimes mumbling a warning about the roots that have risen from the ground, imbedded into his mind from how many times he’s walked this path.

 

Once they step onto the sand of the beach Kyungsoo lifts his head to look at Jongin and stare suspiciously.

 

“Are we going fishing?”

 

Jongin chuckles. “Nope,” he says as they pass the dock. “I’m not that obsessed.”

 

“That’s a bit hard to believe,” Kyungsoo retorts with a grin.

 

The moon is low in the sky tonight—which is perfect. It gives them light to safely walk across the beach, avoiding rocks or shells. Once they reach a large boulder Jongin instructs for the other to take off his sandals as well.

 

He pulls on Kyungsoo’s hand, leading him closer to the shore where the waves lazily lap at the sand. Kyungsoo giggles when the cold water hits their bare feet, squealing when it reaches their ankles and he latches onto Jongin’s bicep.

 

Jongin easily turns him around and hugs him instead, inhaling Kyungsoo’s lovely scent that’s now touched by the beach. Lifting the smaller’s chin up—who’s busy looking down at their toes—he softly kisses his lips. Slow and gentle, loving how Kyungsoo’s plump lips fold against his own.

 

With a hum Kyungsoo pulls away, flashing a mischievous smirk before he’s turning around and walking away. Jongin follows, rushing up to him to hold his hand and kiss his knuckles, letting their hands fall back down between them. The sweetest smile settles on Kyungsoo’s lips and Jongin can’t help but stare.

 

“A coffee bean!” Kyungsoo suddenly gasps, letting go of Jongin’s grasp and rushing forward. He bends down, picking something up with his thumb and finger, bringing it up for the moon to shine down on it.

 

“It’s a shell,” Jongin says, looking past the small white object and at the other’s awestruck expression.

 

“It looks like a coffee bean, don’t you think?” Kyungsoo muses.

 

“That’s nothing compared to this one,” Jongin chuckles, walking a bit ahead and picking up one that twirls and fits into his palm. “See?”

 

“A tornado!”

 

Soon enough Jongin has his hands full of shells that Kyungsoo keeps finding, comparing them to foods and instruments.

 

“This one resembles a harp,” he points out as he places it in the pile in Jongin’s hands. “Wouldn’t that be peculiar? Little fishes playing music.”

 

They walk back to the large boulder they left their shoes at. Kyungsoo’s adamant Jongin brings the shells with him, saying that he’s going to build something. Sitting on the sand, Jongin curiously watches as the smaller plucks certain shells from the pile, arranging them onto the ground.

 

Eventually, Jongin’s eyes follows Kyungsoo’s arm that’s stabilizing him to lean over on all fours and placing the shells meticulously, the pale limb leads his gaze towards his focused face. He follows the arch of his back, along towards his bottom that’s perched out. Jongin catches what he’s doing and quickly averts his stare, embarrassed.

 

Luckily, Kyungsoo doesn’t notice and sits back on his calves with a “done!”.

 

Jongin laughs when he looks at the other’s masterpiece out of shells. It’s their initials, surrounded by a heart. “How cheesy,” he laughs, grabbing Kyungsoo’s wrist and pulling him into his embrace. “Are we on our honeymoon?”

 

“Honeymoon?” Kyungsoo repeats, looking up from his position between Jongin’s legs to see him.

 

“Tourists on their honeymoons always do this.”

 

“How romantic!”

 

“I like to stick my foot in it and ruin it.”

 

“Jongin! You’re terrible,” Kyungsoo huffs, elbowing his stomach.

 

With a chuckle, Jongin leans down and kisses behind Kyungsoo’s ear. “I would never ruin ours, don’t worry.”

 

A moment of silence passes, of them looking up at the sky and relishing each other’s presence. The stars are scattered beautifully.

 

“It’s so lovely here,” Kyungsoo says. “It would be impossible to see so many stars where I lived.”

 

“They’re not as beautiful as you.”

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, unseen by Jongin. “And you accuse me of being cheesy.”

 

Jongin playfully bites on Kyungsoo’s ear, which earns him a squeak. The other retaliates by elbowing him again, making Jongin dramatically groan and fall back, clutching onto his stomach. “You’re so cruel,” he whines

 

With a playful smile Kyungsoo turns around to lie down between Jongin’s legs. Kissing his stomach as an apology, he glances up to see if he’s forgiven.

 

He only receives a heavy gaze in reply.

 

Jongin lifts himself onto his elbows, using one hand to cup Kyungsoo’s cheek and coax him forward. As they come face-to-face, he closes the distance and gently kisses the other, lingering when Kyungsoo climbs over him so they’re lying down, chest-to-chest.

 

“Would you call me crazy if I’ve already fallen in love with you?” Jongin murmurs against Kyungsoo’s lips.

 

“If so, I would have been the first to have gone insane.”

 

At this, Jongin grins widely, glad to know that he’s not the only one who’s lost his mind over the other.

 

Slowly, he drags the clothes off of Kyungsoo’s body, allowing the smaller to take off his own. He turns them over to become mesmerized by Kyungsoo’s beauty. His skin almost glows under the moon and the sand in his hair twinkles like the stars. His always wide eyes were now hooded, lips glossed from spit—he looks so perfect.

 

The thought that his time with this man was limited constantly ran through Jongin’s mind, but in the moment all those ugly things left his head. He kissed up and down Kyungsoo’s body like there was no such thing as time. He treated and rocked into the other as if the world revolved around them and nothing could ever stop Jongin from making those sounds leave Kyungsoo’s mouth.

 

Time had stopped for them—the waves slowed and the wind quieted to bask in the two’s music.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

It was easy to get tired of eating fish. Jongin wanted to give Kyungsoo the best anyway, which was why he suggested they go to a restaurant for dinner.

 

It’s not that they ate fish every day, especially with the island’s tough storms and of course not every trip to the ocean was successful. And although Jongin loved seeing Kyungsoo in the kitchen, fussing about ingredients, following his father’s cookbook, he also wanted to give him a break from cooking.

 

His new grill would have to wait just a little longer, but that didn’t matter when it came to Kyungsoo.

 

It was humid out from the previous rain. A BBQ restaurant may not have been the best choice, but the grin on Kyungsoo’s face was worth it. He was amused by the various side dishes and the atmosphere of the place. 

 

It was owned by a woman that was good friends with Jongin’s father. She still checks up on him from time-to-time since his father’s death, persistent on him visiting her restaurant and getting some good food. He guesses it was about time he did so.

 

The place was quite busy, loud with chatter and drunken laughter. Smoke from the grills fogged the area slightly, clinging to their clothes and rumbling their appetites. It was enough to have Kyungsoo turning around in his seat, looking at everything with interest.

 

“Have you ever been to a place like this?” Jongin asks, amused by the other’s fascination.

 

Kyungsoo scoffs, picking up his chopsticks and poking at some simmered potatoes. “Never. My father said someone would try to kill—” his eyes widen slightly and he shoves a potato in his mouth. “Wow! This is delicious!”

 

Jongin doesn’t get to question further as their food is brought to the table by a waitress Jongin knew from high school. He thanks her—a bit awkward not having seen her in a while—before setting up the meat on the grill.

 

Once cooked, Jongin offers the first piece to Kyungsoo by placing it in his bowl of rice. He watches as the smaller spoons it into his mouth, eyes widening and lips lifting in delight. 

 

They spend the rest of their dinner asking each other questions, finding out what each other’s favourite colours were and what music they enjoyed.

 

 

“That was really good!” Kyungsoo exclaims as they walk home, hands clasped between them.

 

Jongin chuckles, thinking it’s adorable how such simple things make the other so happy. “You’ve never tried it before?”

 

Kyungsoo shrugs, the crickets quieting around them, the night still damp. “Well, not like this.”

 

“How so then?”

 

“I was always cooped up—”

 

This time, Jongin catches Kyungsoo’s slip up. Kyungsoo seems to realize this too because his eyes widen and he looks down, clearing his throat. Jongin stops in his tracks, under the light of a measly streetlamp that has moths surrounding it, but he doesn’t care about the flickering, as long as it gives him enough light to see the discomfort on the other’s features. 

 

Jongin is stuck. He’s not sure about his suspicions. If he confronts him wouldn’t that reveal his own lies? With a sigh, he knows it’s about time anyway. They shouldn’t live in a world of lies. “You remembered, didn’t you?”

 

He sees Kyungsoo gulp. He tries walking away, but Jongin pulls him back by the wrist.

 

“Come on, let’s talk, okay?”

 

“About what?” Kyungsoo says, still not looking at him.

 

“You remembered your past,” Jongin states confidently.

 

“I didn’t remember anything.”

 

“Yes, you did. You clearly just said something about being cooped up—about your father too, back at the restaurant.”

 

“I—that’s—I did not remember anything.”

 

This time Jongin grows a bit impatient. He doesn’t understand why Kyungsoo won’t just tell him. He knows he’s at fault too, more so, but perhaps he could only escape his cowardice if Kyungsoo said it first. “It’s okay, I know you remembered.”

 

Maybe Jongin came on a little too strong because Kyungsoo’s expression quickly turns angered and he wrenches his hand from Jongin’s. “I haven’t remembered anything! I’m not a liar l-like you! I never remembered such a past because I’ve never forgotten, how could I?”

 

Jongin takes a step back, confused. “I’m a liar?”

 

Kyungsoo barks out a laugh. “You think I couldn’t deduce your facade? I don’t know to what extent you know about me, but I can tell you know something. If anything, Minseok is the obvious one between you two.”

 

It’s a lot at once and Jongin takes a moment to gather his thoughts. He couldn’t believe Kyungsoo had known the whole time—for how long? “You said you had amnesia.”

 

“I didn’t. Would you really have helped me escape my encaging life as the president’s only son if you had known such a fact?” Kyungsoo pauses, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Look at you,” he coughs up a laugh again as he uses both of his hands to hug his temples. “Not even a gasp out of you.”

 

Already feeling exhausted from their first argument, Jongin helplessly steps closer. “I found out from the TV at the pub,” he confesses. “I couldn’t stand losing you, not when I was just starting to fall in love. I was supposed to tell you a lot sooner, I admit, but I couldn’t—I just—I’m so in love with you, please at least believe that.”

 

“I love you too,” Kyungsoo immediately replies, his gaze softening. “I ran away because I was so tired of being trapped in that mansion like some sort of princess. My father is beyond protective of me and I couldn’t bear it. I snuck onto some random cargo ship, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. I had no idea where it was heading to and like a fool I stole a life jacket and jumped off of it when I saw an island—this island—in the distance. God knows how fortunate I am to have actually survived the waves and washed up to where you would find me.” He nears, placing his hands on Jongin’s cheeks and kissing his pouty lips. “I am so thankful for you, Jongin. I’m sorry, for everything.”

 

Jongin kisses back, placing his hands over Kyungsoo’s. Retracting, he smoothes out the smaller’s hair. “I am sorry too, I won’t keep things from you again.”

 

It suddenly dawns on Jongin and he feels worry dwell within his mind again. “But… Are you going to keep hiding?” It must have been terrible for Kyungsoo if he went to the extent of running away, but keeping his identity a secret for so long had him thinking of all the reasons why he should return, and this new fact made no difference. “Everyone must be worried about you.”

 

Kyungsoo exhales, eyes downcast. “I am aware I need to return. You make it so hard for me, Jongin. I never want to leave you—just let me have you for a little longer.”

 

Jongin knows the request is awfully familiar and just as wrong, but Kyungsoo is looking at him so lovingly, on his toes so his lips touch the taller’s. It was hard to deny him. And who was Jongin to do such a thing when he wanted to keep him here just as bad?

 

“A little longer,” Jongin confirms.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

A little longer is only several hours.

 

Jongin is preparing his boat, steadily unwrapping the rope from the deck and it’s odd he doesn’t feel as excited about it, not when Kyungsoo isn’t next to him. Not that he’s lost his love for fishing, that would never be, but he can’t help but worry for Kyungsoo who is at home alone.

 

He had cried himself to sleep in Jongin’s arms last night. He elaborated on why he ran away. His father wasn’t a bad person, he was far from that, he just loved Kyungsoo too much to the point it started to hurt his son. Kyungsoo understood he was of some importance and that people surely had bad intentions towards him, but something as mundane as going to the movie theatres with his friends was forbidden. His friends—who varied from idols to heirs—accepted that he was under strict rule and were happy to stay in his large home, but Kyungsoo didn’t want to restrict them either and often times told them to go on without him. This resulted in loneliness and utter boredom. He just wanted to escape.

 

It’s impossible for Jongin to understand what he’s felt, not with the beach right outside his door, but he imagined that being taken away from him and it was a horrible thought. He persuaded Kyungsoo to take a day off from the heat and to stay in and catch up on sleep.

 

Finally unraveling the rope he throws it into the boat, stepping inside himself.

 

He straightens up from bending down to pick up his keys, the sun warm against his back, obscuring nothing and letting him see Minseok jogging towards him.

 

Minseok looks distraught, eyebrows furrowed, and he stops a good distance away as if hesitant.

 

“What is it?” Jongin asks straight away. They haven’t been on talking terms exactly, especially with Kyungsoo stuck to his side. That didn’t make Jongin hate him though, he understood where he was coming from.

 

“I told the police,” Minseok replies firmly, keeping his hands at his sides.

 

Jongin breathes, not wanting to act irrationally. He waits, letting Minseok continue.

 

“T-They’ve already took him, I-I’m sorry… I couldn’t stand back any longer.” 

 

Everything happens quickly and Jongin is already out of the boat, stomping towards Minseok and he can see the fear flash in the other’s eyes. He grabs his collar, letting one hand go to swing a fist, but he stops himself and roughly lets go, ultimately throwing Minseok on the ground. He lets his frustration out on his hair, grabbing it with his hands and yelling.

 

“Why would you do that?!”

 

“Are you kidding me?! Jongin, you were hiding him away! Did you want to go to jail? I just saved your !” Minseok yells back, standing up.

 

“You don’t understand! He knew the whole time, he ran away Min!” Jongin desperately tries to explain. “He wasn’t ready to go back!”

 

Minseok stays quiet, expression unreadable.

 

Suddenly, Jongin realizes he’s wasting precious time. “Where is he?”

 

“He’s already gone—”

 

“Where?!” Jongin growls, teeth bared in vexation.

 

Looking away, Minseok scans the shore, squinting into the distance. Jongin almost pounces on him in anger, feeling the strain of time, until the older lifts a hand and points.

 

Jongin follows the direction with his eyes, feeling his heart drop when he sees the pristine yacht being eased away from the dock. The dock that’s reserved for trading purposes only. The dock that is impossible to reach in time.

 

“No,” Jongin whimpers, his voice catching in his throat. “No, no, no.”

 

Minseok yells his name, but Jongin doesn’t hear it. He runs, kicking sand into the air and feeling his shorts soak when he reaches the water and goes deeper. His feet no longer touch the bottom of the ocean and he erratically swims, feeling absolutely hopeless. He screams Kyungsoo’s name, praying the other could hear him. The reality is small for the yacht is already minuscule in the distance.

 

He slaps his fists against the water, uncaring when the waves pick up and he goes underneath, swimming back up only to see the boat grow smaller. “Kyungsoo,” he cries, voice miserable with tears streaming down his already wet cheeks.

 

“Don’t go. Please, don’t leave me.”

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

Minseok is once again helping Jongin get himself together. He sits him on the dock, uncaring of his clothes getting wet, watching the wood beneath them darken from Jongin’s soaked state as well. He wraps his arm around Jongin’s shaking shoulders, any previous unease towards him now gone from seeing his friend so shaken up.

 

“Breathe, Jongin.”

 

The tears slowly stop, until Jongin is staring down at his knees with a heartbroken expression.

 

“I’m sorry,” Minseok mumbles, feeling awful. He’s starting to regret ever telling the authorities that he knew where the missing president’s son was. Although childish, he felt like he was losing his best friend. Getting Kyungsoo away was the only thing he could think of that would make Jongin see straight again. Plus, he couldn’t bear Jongin getting in trouble. Now he curses his past self, wishing he would’ve just confronted the other one last time.

 

Jongin sighs, giving a weak smile at the older. “You didn’t know.”

 

Minseok stands up, the wood of the dock creaking. “Come on.”

 

With a meek shake of his head, Jongin carries on staring at the water droplets sliding down his bare knees. “I…I just need a moment.”

 

“We can’t waste time, you need to get to Keena as soon as possible.”

 

Jongin raises his head to see Minseok grinning down at him, hand outstretched for him to take with the setting sun behind him.

 

 

They stand at the telephone booth, one of the only ones on the island—located next to the modest courthouse. Minseok eagerly pokes his head into the small compartment, waiting for Jongin to make any affirmatives.

 

The dial tone in Jongin’s ear is interrupted by a drawn out ‘hello’.

 

“Baekhyun,” Jongin breathes, nodding at a relieved Minseok.

 

“Is that my little Nini calling?” the voice gasps and Jongin tries not to roll his eyes.

 

“Look—I’m in a hurry. How do I get to Keena?”

 

“Oh my, are you visiting me?!” Baekhyun excitedly asks and he can imagine the petite male bouncing on his expensive leather couch. “Finally! I’m always telling you Melawan is honestly—”

 

“Baekhyun,” Jongin interjects. “Where does the president reside?”

 

“The hell you wanna know that—”

 

“Baekhyun!”

 

“Alright! Jeez… Right in the centre of the city bud, located on Serok street. Lots of tourists and guards, I don’t know why you would wanna go there.”

 

“How do you get there—from Melawan, I mean.”

 

“Just get Mr. Ock to take you. He goes every morning for his tea trades.”

 

Morning. He looks past Minseok’s figure and at the night sky. That’s too far, he can’t wait that long.

 

“I need to go now.”

 

Baekhyun laughs. “No one is gonna take you in the dead of night Nini. Why do you even need to come to Keena anyway? What’s so important?”

 

Jongin ignores his questions and looks at Minseok. “I’ll take my boat.”

 

“Do you want to get arrested? You can’t go there without some kind of consent. I don’t think chasing after the president’s son is a very persuasive one,” Minseok points out.

 

Groaning, Jongin bids Baekhyun a quick goodbye and thanks before hanging up. Looks like he’ll have to wait.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

Mr. Ock is a chatterbox. No wonder it was easy for Jongin to convince him to take him with him to the city; he loved company.

 

It was understandable, especially since Jongin felt the loneliness of being in the middle of the ocean himself. He was more than happy to lean against the railings with the man as he babbled on about his sixty years of life. He had to simply help the old man load bags of tea leaves into the cabin and he was guaranteed a spot. Mr. Ock was generous with his water and snacks—stories as well—so it was easy for Jongin to relax a little and enjoy the trip.

 

The sun was still high in the sky when they reached Keena and Jongin gladly helped Mr. Ock with his product, carrying them to the large dock that nearly took up half of the small beach. It’s when he exhales a tired sigh and straightens his back, squinting into the distance that he feels his breath catch in his throat.

 

Buildings overtake the skyline, towering in various heights that Jongin underestimated when he would see their silhouettes back home. There are many people, like an army of ants running about. The beach in Melawan rarely had guests, whereas here it seemed to be a hotspot, despite the ships and boats unloading their cargo a mere distance away.

 

Once he dumbly makes his way off of the small beach he is met with concrete. Noises come in from every direction, honking, talking, engines revving. Jongin feels completely out of place in his t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. Women walk by in tight skirts and men jog into alleyways with their suits and coffee cups.

 

Willing himself to calm down and that this is for Kyungsoo, he keeps blindly walking, turning his head left and right for a sign of anything. He guides his feet to a woman casually dressed sitting at a table by the side of a building.

 

“Excuse me,” he quietly says.

 

The woman looks up, eyes scanning his form with raised brows before they land on his face. “Yes?”

 

“H-How do I get to Serok street?”

 

She only takes a second to point at a glass booth. “Take the bus that will come in—” she glances at her phone, “—three minutes. Its last stop is Serok street.”

 

Still in confusion Jongin nods nonetheless. “Thank you,” he says before walking over to the booth and waiting next to a group of what seem to be students.

 

He takes those three minutes to compose himself. He feels like he just walked through the television at the pub, like he travelled in time. The island wasn’t even that far from the city and it was remarkable how different they were. There are still some elements Jongin is familiar with, like the pigeons that remind him of the seagulls, and the hotdog cart that reminds him of the cotton candy wagon. It still didn’t fail to shock him though and he only hopes he sees Kyungsoo soon, the only thing that would make him feel at home.

 

A bus stops in front of the booth and Jongin follows the group of girls on, finding a seat next to the window, watching Keena whiz by.

 

He slowly calms down.

 

 

The ride is long. Brutal, almost, if it weren’t for the mother and her toddler that came on halfway and Jongin finds his source of entertainment for a while. 

 

Soon enough, the voice over the speakers announces they’re arriving at the final stop, Serok street and Jongin lets out a sigh of relief. Almost there.

 

He hops off with the other passengers and sees a mansion a short distance away, surrounded by people taking pictures around it. He pushes past the crowd until he’s faced with a large gate, bars thick and impossible to get through. He wants to yell in frustration.

 

It’s too soon to give up and he desperately looks around, for any sign of entrance.

 

“How do I get inside?” he asks around himself, for anyone to hear.

 

He only gets laughter and a mumbled ‘the homeless keep getting crazier’.

 

Grunting in annoyance he jogs the perimeter, not bothering to apologize to the people he bumps into. Finally, he stops at two bulky men dressed in blue uniforms standing guard at the gate doors. He must look insane from the wind messing up his hair and his odd clothing. “Is this the president’s home?”

 

The one on the left snorts. “He wishes.”

 

The right one throws a look before answering, “yes, this is his residence.”

 

“Can I go inside?” Jongin asks, looking back-and-forth between the two.

 

This time they both guffaw and Jongin’s eyebrows furrow in confusion; what was so funny?

 

“I need to see Kyungsoo,” Jongin presses, fists growing tighter at his sides.

 

They shake their heads in amusement and keep silent, looking past him.

 

“I need to see Kyungsoo, please. He knows me!”

 

They continue to ignore him.

 

Jongin becomes further exasperated, not knowing what to do with all of his attempts getting blocked. “Kyungsoo!” He screams at the top of his lungs, side-stepping the guards and gripping onto the bars of the gate. “Kyungsoo!”

 

“Hey!” One of the guards yells, pulling him by the back of his shirt. “Your little crush on the president’s son isn’t going to get noticed like this. Try tweeting him, okay? Now stop causing trouble.”

 

“No, you don’t understand, we know each other!” Jongin pleads, shouldering the man’s grip off of his back. He doesn’t pay attention to the stares the tourists are giving him.

 

“Then give him a call, jeez kid. If we let everyone saying they knew him inside he would have been missing the day he was born. Now get away before we have to involve the law.”

 

“He's finally back after months of being gone, it's not going to be that easy.”

 

Jongin falls onto his knees in defeat, tears falling from his eyes and he unashamedly wails. After everything it’s just going to end like this? After spending countless nights in Kyungsoo’s arms he’s just going to have to spend the rest without his warmth? He didn’t even get to say goodbye, give him one last kiss. He just wants to see his beautiful twinkling eyes once more.

 

Suddenly the guards are spewing words into their uniform collars. He’s coaxed off the ground by one of them and lead back, a red rope blocking him off. People crowd behind him, but he can’t process anything, not with tears blurring his sight.

 

A honk is heard and a long black car—a limousine—slowly drives into view. People around him cheer as the gates are opened, more guards coming from nowhere and blocking the people from passing the red ropes. The car’s windows are solid black, but something tells Jongin Kyungsoo is there. What does he have to lose anyway?

 

Ducking under the red ropes Jongin runs towards the car as it passes the open gates, he doesn’t even notice the screaming of the crowd and the guards’ footsteps behind him, he only has his focus on getting on top of that limo.

 

Jumping onto the elongated trunk he climbs up the car, the metal giving off dull sounds underneath his feet. “Kyungsoo!” He hollers, getting on his knees on the roof of the car and pounding it with his fists. “Kyungsoo!”

 

“No!” Jongin screams, thrashing his legs when a guard roughly grabs him by his elbow, pulling him down and he doesn’t even noticed the pain that shoots through his knee.

 

Like an angel emerging from the clouds, the limo stops and the door opens. Kyungsoo climbs out with a panicked look in his eyes, but Jongin is distracted by the other’s formal attire. His crisp white button-up and slacks look amazing on his sturdy body, his hair is cut short, the ebony beautiful against his porcelain skin. Jongin can barely feel his limbs being pulled to stand and then there he is, his Kyungsoo, hugging him and holding him in his arms and all Jongin can do is cry.

 

Jongin faints.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

The mattress beneath Jongin is heavenly and he would rather not wake up, ever, but he can hear Kyungsoo’s deep humming somewhere around him.

 

He blinks his eyes open, squinting as he gets up on his elbows. He can hear his voice still, but he’s nowhere to be seen. As Jongin looks around the room he becomes more awake at the beauty of it. It’s large, grand, and it’s decorated in delicate champagne colours that remind Jongin of the sand and shells. There’s framed photos hung on the walls, a painting of a Turkish Angora too, but mostly photos of Kyungsoo with different people.

 

He gently folds the thick blanket off of his legs, noticing he’s been changed into silk pyjamas, and clambers off of the huge bed. Before he gets to begin searching for where Kyungsoo’s humming is coming from a door to the side opens and the man himself walks out.

 

He stills when he catches eyes with Jongin and before the younger knows it he’s tackled back onto the bed, the breath being knocked out of him.

 

Kyungsoo buries his face into Jongin’s neck, arms wrapped around his torso and Jongin hugs him back out of instinct.

 

“I missed you so much,” Kyungsoo breathes against his neck, his voice muffled and the sounds of the blanket crumpling underneath them accompany it.

 

Jongin is at a loss for words so he only hugs tighter, trying not to get too emotional as he finally gets to smell his lover again.

 

After a moment Kyungsoo retracts, his arms still around his torso, and stares into Jongin’s eyes. “How on earth did you find me?”

 

A cross between a sigh and a laugh leaves Jongin’s mouth. “I followed my heart.”

 

“Jongin!” Kyungsoo whines with a hint of a smile.

 

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” Is all Jongin replies with.

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes but leans down nonetheless, connecting their lips and grinning into it. The laughter dwindles down until the kiss becomes passionate and slow, tongues grazing and eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

 

Parting away, they breathe against each other’s mouths, unable to not giggle from pure happiness of being in each other’s arms again.

 

“Minseok told the police,” Jongin begins, caressing Kyungsoo’s hair.

 

“I assumed so,” Kyungsoo mumbles.

 

“He says he’s sorry.”

 

Kyungsoo smiles at that.

 

“You could have gotten in a lot of trouble for what you pulled back there. Climbing on top of a car—you’re mad,” he says with a raised brow.

 

Jongin chuckles. He had no idea where his brain even went at the moment, he just had to somehow reach Kyungsoo. “Well, we’re here now aren’t we?”

 

Kyungsoo rolls off of Jongin’s chest and gets off of the bed, tilting his head for Jongin to do the same. “Speaking of, I want you to meet my father; the president.”

 

Cringing, Jongin stands up. “Don’t put it that way, please.”

 

Opening the door for Jongin to walk through, Kyungsoo follows, catching up with him. They stroll through a large hallway, the floors marble with a carpet that stretches throughout it. “I’ve already informed him of nearly everything. Why I left—that I wasn’t kidnapped by pirates,” he laughs. “I told him about you,” he quietly adds, looking up at Jongin.

 

Taking the smaller’s hand, Jongin bites his lip. “And?”

 

“He said you were a man deserving of a monument.”

 

They both burst into laughter.

 

“He really said that?” Jongin asks. He honestly believed the president would loathe his being, particularly for somewhat keeping his son away.

 

“Yes,” Kyungsoo nods. “I told him you saved me.” He looks down at their clasped hands, a blush forming on his cheeks. “I told him I love you…I also told him you’re the best fisherman out there,” he quickly includes.

 

“Go on,” Jongin teases, his heart swelling in bliss.

 

With a nudge against Jongin’s side he mumbles complaints. “Anyhow, he wants to reward you with dinner tomorrow evening. I’m sure he wished to tell you that himself, but I presumed a heads up would be nice. So act surprised!”

 

Jongin can already feel the nerves of that building. “You’re killing me.”

 

They make a turn into another hallway, this time Jongin can see guards at the door at the end of it.

 

“My father is a sweet man. I made him out to be horrid, but he’s only strict, not unkind,” Kyungsoo reassures.

 

Jongin exhales, gripping Kyungsoo’s hand a bit tighter. Minseok says he’s a greasy charmer, he can do this. He glances down at the beautiful man next to him and decides no, he can’t, he will. Anything to be with Kyungsoo.

 

After all, he almost got arrested for him.

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

One month later…

 

Jongin has picked a handful of sea grapes and slowly eats the bittersweet fruit as he waits. His feet kick into the water as he sits on the dock, finding the waves calming and the sun warming against his tanned skin.

 

Finally, he hears the whirring of a boat’s engine and he looks into the horizon of the ocean—sure enough it’s Mr. Ock.

 

Slowly, the boat makes its way to shore, stopping in front of Jongin which the latter immediately stands up for.

 

“Good morning Jongin!” Mr. Ock greets, turning off his engine.

 

“‘Morning sir!”

 

Jongin’s grin widens when he sees Kyungsoo emerge from the cabin, his formal attire switched out for a simple pair of shorts and shirt with a flamingo on it. Kyungsoo perks up when they make eye contact and he quickly hops over the boat’s railing, nearly falling into the water but Jongin is quick to let go of his little snack and holds his waist instead.

 

“Alright, be gone you two!” Mr. Ock bids, shooing them away with his hand.

 

The old man had become the trusted chauffeur for the president’s son, this one being his first job bringing Kyungsoo to the island.

 

“Thank you!” Kyungsoo says, waving his hand as they walk. He quickly turns to Jongin when they’re a good distance away and jumps into his arms, kissing him with a big smack. He lets go with his familiar wide eyes and a smile. “Oh, how I’ve missed you! And the island as well,” he says, stepping away and outstretching his arms.

 

Jongin is quick to pick him up when the other is defenceless.

 

With squealing laughter Kyungsoo begs Jongin to put him down.

 

“I’m not letting you out of my sight the whole time you’re here!” Jongin states, hiking the smaller up so his legs can wrap around his torso.

 

“I only have one week,” Kyungsoo informs, pecking his cheek.

 

Jongin pouts and Kyungsoo kisses his puckered lips instead.

 

“I have to start my French lessons soon, but father said I may come back when I have learned how to hold a proper conversation.”

 

“I can teach you French,” Jongin whines as he places Kyungsoo back onto the sand.

 

He laughs at that. “Mhm, and I can teach fishes how to fly.”

 

The simple fact was that Kyungsoo was the president’s son and with such a title it was unavoidable for it to come with certain demands. After the dinner with the president, Jongin had discussed how he wanted to continue to see Kyungsoo. It was impossible to keep him on the island, of course, but he pleaded for the other to at least visit.

 

He also added that Kyungsoo wouldn’t feel so trapped if he were allowed to step out of the city, let alone the mansion.

 

Not only that, but Jongin had a fishing tradition to uphold and Kyungsoo was more than understanding about that.

 

So, Kyungsoo’s father agreed, deeming Jongin a respectable man. It was a dream come true for the lovers.

 

That’s how they all decided Kyungsoo would be allowed to visit Jongin and vice versa whenever it was considered proper.

 

“Alright, one week…” Jongin ponders, taking Kyungsoo’s hand as they walk into the forest. “What can we do in one week?”

 

“Hmm…how about,” Kyungsoo purrs, sidling up against Jongin. “We spend it under the covers. I missed you very much.”

 

“How inappropriate,” Jongin playfully says, holding a hand against his chest.

 

“Fine,” Kyungsoo retorts, sticking out his tongue. “I’ll just go sleep!” He runs off, giggles blending with the song of the birds nestled into the trees.

 

Jongin watches Kyungsoo’s shrinking figure be framed by the canopy of the trees and bushes, the sun poking through the leaves enough to make the scene look ethereal.

 

Quickly picking up his pace, Jongin chases after him with laughter bubbling from his chest.

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a/n: thank u for reading!!! very very appreciated. my heart beats for u <3