The days pass him like a dream. He is surrounded by the sea, and he expects danger to attack him, but nothing like that comes. It’s like there’s a hand guiding him-slapping anything away that could harm him. He supposes that it’s in Hyukjae’s discretion, or he’s just really lucky. He has weapons with him, but no opportunity comes to him to use it.

Donghae wonders while running his hand through the waters when he will see Hyukjae again. Somehow, he doesn’t feel the longing as strongly, because he knows that somewhere below, Hyukjae is with him.

~

Hyukjae looks at his home one last time. A necklace made of shells hangs from his neck, a present for his sun. He embraces his friends, knowing that it will be a while before he sees them. He runs his hands on the seaweed, the corrals, runs nonsense conversations with the other fishes, and he swims away from all of it.

It takes days, and sometimes he feels too cold the farther he strays away from his kind. Being alone is hard, especially when he only has his mind to keep him company. He scans the seas, and sometimes he wonders how far Donghae’s home could be or if he’s that lost because it’s been too long since he’s been there.

The image of him burns in his mind, and it keeps him going.

He swims on his back, and he closes his eyes to bask under the yellow sun. The seashell necklace rattles against him, and Hyukjae hums a small tune.

The ocean is a deep green, and Hyukjae bumps into a medium sized boat, completed with a white sail that could be seen for miles. The boat sits on pristine waters, and Hyukjae turns to check it out.

And he smiles.

Donghae appears, resting an arm on the edge, peering at Hyukjae with a soft gaze. He gives him a welcoming smile, and Hyukjae falls into his bright aura. He reaches out a hand, and Donghae does the same, lining his fingers against his. Under the cotton candy clouds and cool sky, Hyukjae’s skin glimmers.

“Hello, East Sea. Thank you,” Hyukjae murmurs. His cheeks rise and brighten to a rose color. He huffs a breath and it gives life into Donghae’s features.

“Hyukjae,” Donghae says out loud for him to hear.

Hyukjae gestures for him to come closer, and hooks the necklace around his neck. “You’ve aged, Donghae.” He brushes his long fingers against his head. “Your hair is longer.”

Donghae’s eyes crinkled. “If you’d come sooner, I wouldn’t have to come this far.”

“I was waiting too, you know,” Hyukjae chirps.

Donghae closes his fingers against Hyukjae’s. “I know.”

A cry rings in the air. A second later, a blue whale jumps into the sky, flipping upside down. Other whales in blue and gray joins it, and they watch the show. They whine at each other, communicating. They would have to stay together no matter what.

“Do you know what they’re saying?” Donghae asks.

“They say that you’re their only meal,” Hyukjae jokes.

Donghae smirks. “What about you? What do you eat?”

Hyukjae tries to put on a serious face. “Humans.”

Donghae bursts out laughing.

“What?”

“I don’t believe you’re that cruel, Hyukjae.”

Hyukjae grins a wide one, and Donghae’s heart lurches. Yes, coming out here was worth it.

“Say my name again?” Hyukjae requests.

“Hyukjae,” Donghae obeys.

Hyukjae backs up a little, and opens his arms. “Let’s go, Donghae.”

~

The two of them swim together to their hearts’ content. Hyukjae’s world is lively, it has all the colors of the world and some more. Donghae can never imagine it. There was no need for voices to occupy their silence, it was comfortable enough. The birds fly above them to squawk. There are whales and dolphins speeding through the waters, and the occasional school of sharks. Hyukjae never takes him too deep underwater because he feared it might be too much on Donghae’s human body.

At night, Donghae points him constellations that helped him navigate the ocean. He tells him which one points to home, and Hyukjae tells him that he just listens to fishes and ask them which way is which.

The moon is halved tonight, and Hyukjae sings Donghae a lost tune with his soft voice. They were mere footsteps, treading smoothly on grainy sand, the passing of stringy clouds, and Donghae never thinks to dream of another image of Hyukjae. Donghae makes Hyukjae poems that come from the tongue of his land, they were humorous and a little hewn, but it swoons Hyukjae.

On another night, Hyukjae raises himself into Donghae’s boat and commands him to pull him overboard.

“Won’t you be dry?” Donghae asks, very worried at how Hyukjae can handle himself out of the water.

Hyukjae gives him a reassuring smile. “No, I can handle it.”

Donghae lies on the wooden floor, with Hyukjae settling beside him. Hyukjae puts his webbed ear against his chest, and his long fingers tread on his stomach. 

Donghae holds him closer, not minding that he is wet and cold. This is the first time that he got to hold him like this. He feels his scaled tail, memorizing its detail under his rough fingers. The sail above them blows to the direction of the wind and home, but there's no better home than their connected hearts. The stars above them looked like a thousand torches lit up, and Donghae sends a grateful prayer to the heavens.

Hyukjae presses his lips against Donghae’s collarbone, and he helps Hyukjae climb back to the sea again.

“Goodnight, Donghae,” Hyukjae breathes into his ear.