Luhan had been saying it over and over again, only days after the Siren had left the Opal Coast.

“We’re due the summer storms, I think. The weather has been beautiful for so long, and the summer is strong this year. They might come any day.”

“Alright, alright, weatherman.” Sehun had shushed the other navigator over dinner, gesturing to a cringing Zitao who seemed more interested in playing with his potatoes than eating them. The dynamic was different now, what with the change in crew and all that had happened, but at least Sehun and Luhan were acting ever the same as usual. Minseok too, was trying to maintain the usual atmosphere with only a little extra attention given to Zitao (‘he needs to settle properly’ he had said to the others ‘he’s highly dependent on Yifan right now, and while it’s a good thing they’ve bonded, Zitao needs to trust all of us.’)

They had no such concerns for Yifan himself, who was happily surveying the ship for new areas to patch up at every opportunity. He was a rough man, though not quite as jovial as Chanyeol had been, and took to his new surroundings like a duck to water. There was a distinct playful energy missing, though, where Chanyeol and Jongdae had left, and Luhan’s constant stream of babbling in recent days seemed to be an attempt to compensate for it. It only seemed to get him pieces of vegetables flicked at his face courtesy of Sehun.

Jongin remained quieter than usual, and the others didn’t prompt him to speak too much. He was no longer the curiosity aboard the ship; the new boy, the oddball. He was a member of the crew proper now, rather than a baffled expression to be pitied and guided. It was nice, but also very strange.

Somewhere along the line, back on land or maybe even before that, Jongin had crossed over from being the shell-shocked young boy he now saw in Zitao’s eyes and taken the mantle of ‘pirate’ from the three former members of the crew. Zitao and Yifan hadn’t known of the circumstances surrounding Jongin’s joining the ship until a while later, when the two pestered him endlessly for the whole tale. Jongin carefully chose the odd details to omit.

Like the other tale he’d heard recently. The tale of the sturdy pirate captain whose eyes held regret, whose lips held back a biting poison of anger, bitter revenge. Whose cool exterior concealed a spitting fire within, betrayed only by the flickers in those dark eyes in the lamplight and the warmth Jongin felt when the captain’s mouth pressed to his at night.

Kyungsoo wasn’t talking much these days either, but Jongin knew by now not to push it. Kyungsoo had done enough talking for a long time back on land, and was probably reasserting his captain status.

“He’s probably worried about you.” Minseok told him one night as Jongin helped with cooking dinner. It was the first time Jongin had been alone with the quartermaster in a while, and he found himself leaning close to Minseok as they worked together.

“Can’t think why. Sehun’s the one who had to get patched up after his little accident in the hold the other day.”

Minseok laughed, but his eyes were trained more on Jongin than the vegetables in his hands, so the younger knew it was time to listen. “In all truth, I really do think he’s worried about you. He’s been trying to keep you safe for so long and now…now you’re putting yourself in danger for us. For him.”

It made Jongin feel uneasy, how Minseok was telling him all this while they were dealing with vegetables and sharp instruments like he didn’t think Jongin was going to be a bit…wobbly. Something inside him twisted at the thought of the captain being concerned for him. Yes, he was nervous about their next engagement too, but he was trying to just let it happen and try not to panic. In the evenings he would take out the short sword Joonmyun gifted to him from under the bed, run his fingers over the jewelled hilt and try to envision himself in the thick of battle, fighting for his captain’s cause.

It made his heart both race and freeze, and he wasn’t entirely certain why.

“You know, Jongin. I’d wager that had Chanyeol and the others not left, the captain would have tried to make you stay on land with Joonmyun.”

“The treasures stay on land.” Jongin muttered as he concentrated on slicing a particularly rebellious carrot, missing Minseok’s chuckle. The quartermaster shook his head.

“Well, you’re certainly a bit special – nobody guarded the captain’s quarters before you came along, you know? They were left alone.” He smiled when Jongin tensed. “I don’t know what, exactly, but you’re definitely different.”

Oh, of course Minseok didn’t know. He didn’t know the half of it, the stolen kisses, the close proximity in which the two of them had come to sleep in recent days, the way they sometimes lay in silence with their hands pressed together as though their very palms were kissing.

Jongin didn’t know what it was exactly either, but despite all the closed doors and secrets, Kyungsoo had a way of making things feel intensely intimate between them without even a word.

Minseok didn’t know. Nobody knew. Sometimes Jongin couldn’t help but wonder why. Perhaps it was to protect Kyungsoo’s reputation as the captain of the ship, or perhaps the matter simply never came up in conversation and the two were perfectly content not to let the others in, lest they ask questions even they themselves didn’t know the answers to. Or perhaps Jongin felt some kind of odd thrill from keeping the secret. He really didn’t know.

“Sorry.” Minseok took some vegetables from Jongin and quickly diced them before tossing them into the pot. “If you didn’t want to talk about that kind of thing. Let’s talk about the next engagement instead – do you feel ready?”

“Ready as anything.” It wasn’t quite a lie, though the bubbling of the pot matched an uncomfortable bubbling in Jongin’s stomach. His sword from Joonmyun was as deadly as it was beautiful, and soon it would see battle for the first time.

“You’re not afraid? Of turning a sword to your own?”

“You’re my own. I was with the Sapphire fleet for a matter of days.”

Minseok’s expression softened, though maybe it was just the rising heat in the kitchen making Jongin’s vision a little fuzzy. He reached out to pat the younger boy’s shoulder. “You say that, but nothing will really prepare you for holding a blade to their throats for the first time. The others will back you up, so remember your own limits.”

As he helped to gather more ingredients for the stew, Jongin wondered if Captain Kyungsoo had any limits to speak of.

-

It was on the deck a day or so later, when the blue skies began to fade into a solemn grey.

“Jongin.” The chill in Jongin’s bones came not from the blowing breeze but instead the man beside him, dressed smartly in low-heeled boots and buttoned coat.

“Ah, sorry, captain. You’re not normally on deck around this time of day.”

“But you are.” And as if that were explanation enough, the captain took a place beside Jongin, leaning over the side of the ship with a distant expression on his face. What had once been brilliant blues of the sky and the waves reflected a dull grey in Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“Are you alright?” It was a silly question, but he felt like he had to ask.

Kyungsoo didn’t really answer. “You spend a lot of time here, upon the decks. Whenever you’re not helping the others, you’re here.” He held out a hand over the side of the Siren, fanning out his fingers as his face remained untelling. “What do you think of, when you look out from the ship? You look almost like a caged bird.”

Something about Kyungsoo’s words stung Jongin right in the chest, but perhaps it was more the tone than the words themselves. Guarded as the captain was, he seemed almost…regretful.

“I’m not looking out. I’m looking ahead.” Jongin held out a hand and matched Kyungsoo’s stance, fingers splayed out and letting the wind whip through. “I don’t think much, but I see a lot.”

“I wish I could do the same.” The captain retracted his hand and instead held onto the side of the boat. “Whenever I stand here, all I can do is look back.”

“You don’t see it? Adventure, freedom…hope?” Jongin smiled faintly. The ocean had come to represent a lot for him; escape from the excuse for a life he once led, new adventures, new…well, new something, whatever it was.

A sigh, or perhaps just the wind. “I daren’t hope for much these days.” Kyungsoo lightly tapped a foot into Jongin’s ankle, but didn’t turn to face him and instead continued staring out over the ocean. “I don’t know how you see so much in it – all I see right now is grey, water and wind.”

“Perhaps we’re seeing the same thing, and you’re just not looking at it close enough?”

The captain again didn’t answer, just watching the clouds.

The silence between them wasn’t comfortable, but wasn’t uncomfortable either. It was just…silence. Not light and airy or thick and suffocating, but instead rather like a spring jacket draped over their shoulders. Jongin could feel it, but it wasn’t quite restricting. Not really.

“I’ve been told when we were on land that you spent a lot of time with the street urchins in the alleyways.” Kyungsoo’s heels clicked on the wooden deck, perhaps against a nail in the boards. “Was that perhaps you looking back?”

“Forward.” Jongin’s smile was wide as he remembered his tiny friends on the Opal Coast. Cheerful girls and carefree boys skipping through the alleys, working together to fish by the docks so everyone could sleep another night without the rumbling in their stomachs that Jongin knew so well. “Always forward.”

Waves lapped around the ship, as if trying to come up to touch Jongin’s hand. Perhaps to high-five him encouragingly? Or take hold of his wrist and drag him down into the inky depths that seemed so harmless on clear days. They were clouded and mysterious, hiding anything from unimaginable beauty to inescapable dangers.

Kyungsoo’s hand touched Jongin’s lightly. Jongin forgot quite where his train of thought was going or where it had come from. The water, or…?

“Captain?”

“Hm?”

Jongin wasn’t sure what to say when Kyungsoo looked directly at him, leaning against the side of the Siren and giving Jongin his full attention in a way the younger wasn’t used to. Those dark eyes on him, locking him down.

“When do you look ahead?”

Kyungsoo hesitated only a moment.

“Now.”

“Captain!” The moment snapped like a released elastic band when Luhan sprinted across the deck, clutching a telescope. “Captain, there’s a Sapphire vessel visible in the distance. Opposite side. Have we boarded her before?”

Giving Jongin a last look, holding…something, Kyungsoo followed Luhan to the other side of the deck and held up the telescope. Jongin trailed behind.

“No.” Kyungsoo’s answer was short, but he sounded almost winded. Jongin suddenly felt like he’d been struck by a horse. “This is a new one.”

“So we’re engaging?”

“Yes.”

Jongin’s surroundings started to wobble just a little bit. An engagement. This was really it. It was happening. The telescope was pressed back into Luhan’s hands.

“Well, I’ll go get everyone and tell them to prepare.”

“Ah,” Jongin suddenly found words in his mouth, though he wasn’t entirely certain where they had come from. “My sword is in the captain’s quarters.”

“Well, go get it then!” Luhan clapped him on the shoulder encouragingly and laughed. “While he’s doing that, capta- captain?”

Whatever Luhan had to say to Kyungsoo, apparently it could wait as the captain pulled Jongin in the direction of his quarters by the wrist. Except it didn’t really count as pulling when both of them were already headed in the same direction, footsteps almost in time as they wove through the wooden labyrinth that comprised the lower decks.

Click click click

Heeled boots.

Thump thump thump

Jongin’s heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

Quiet returned as the two separated in the captain’s quarters, Kyungsoo moving to take down his mother’s portrait and hide it under the bed while Jongin retrieved his new sword from the handsome wooden desk. Kyungsoo suited up alongside him, attaching his collection of neat daggers and blades to his person.

When Kyungsoo stood before Jongin, the two barely inches apart, a light clink of metal meeting could be heard as blades bumped into each other.

“Are you sure?”

Jongin only nodded, pressing his lips together into a fine line. Perhaps he wasn’t entirely sure, but with Kyungsoo so close to him, he was at least ninety-nine percent there.

The captain placed a hand on Jongin’s chest, not quite frowning when he felt the younger’s racing heartbeat, but not saying anything about it. He looked as though there was a lot more on his mind. “Jongin…before we go out there…”

“Yes, captain?”

A silence sharper than ever before, like the clash of swords as captain and crew member searched each other’s gazes for words that couldn’t quite come out how they were needed.

“I just….I need to….I don’t….how….”

“We’re engaging!” Yifan’s yells could be heard even from all the way up on the top deck, where Jongin assumed he was. Kyungsoo’s expression settled more into a recognisable frown, but with an underlying hint of something strange. It was like the greyness of the waves carrying the Siren to its fate; clearly concealing something but communicating more than enough on its own. Danger, uncertainty…but something soft.

It happened too fast.

Kyungsoo’s hand on Jongin’s chest tightened into a fist, gripping the fabric of Jongin’s shirt and pulling the younger down not forcefully, but definitely insistently, to bring their mouths together. This had never happened in daylight, never like this, but Jongin found himself forgetting everything but this as the warmth of Kyungsoo’s kiss swept over him like an ocean wave, melting him down like sand.

Be safe. Jongin hoped he was saying as loudly as silently possible when he placed his hands on the captain’s shoulders, pulling him close and steadying them both.

Protect me. His heart was screaming as their chests pressed together, so caught up in the lips on his and the roaring in his ears that he didn’t notice the pounding pulse out of time, even faster than his own.

And I’ll protect you. Jongin’s chest burned. His lips felt like they were on fire. Every inch of skin, every centimetre of his body, covered or not, that that came into contact with Kyungsoo felt as though it had been scorched.

And then a cool touch pressed against his cheek, and he was breathing his own air again without another mouth covering his. Opening his eyes, whenever he had closed them, Jongin’s breath hitched in his throat when his eyes met Kyungsoo’s again. One hand still bunched in Jongin’s shirt and the other lightly touching his face.

“Stay safe.”

And Kyungsoo was gone, leaving Jongin weak-kneed and fuzzy-headed in the captain’s quarters, alone.

When Jongin finally emerged onto the top decks, bejewelled sword tight in his grip, a stinging chill shot through his blood that definitely wasn’t the mild wind that swirled around the sails.

And yet, he had never felt more alive.