Title: So You Hold
Author/Artist: [REDACTED]
Your Giftee: Calarinda 
Rating: M 
Wordcounts: 12,305
Warnings (if applicable): , violence/guns, blood, cursing
Author/Artist’s note: 1) I know it isn't necessary, but I did try to get as many of the things you'd like to see in a gift into this fic, I hope you like it! 2) I didn't have time to dedicate to a whole 'verse, but I do have a lot of headcanon & not!fic for this, so don't rule out the idea of more. :D 3) Sorry about the angst. 4) Thanks to my favorite cheerleader for putting up with all my whining ~

 

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So You Hold

 

The prospect of a shiny vacation in the Core is, most likely, what’s keeping them moving at this point. Problem with border moons – heat, sun, miles and miles of walking. But Donghae has money in his pocket and his mind’s eye far away.

“Ariel is beautiful, just you wait,” Sojin is saying, hair piled up on top of her head. “Blue skies, sunshine –”

“Sky’s blue here, ain’t it?” Donghae interrupts. “Sunshine too, look, you can see it all over Hyukjae’s face.”

Hyukjae holds the empty cargo box higher above his head, cheeks dusted pink. Once Sojin has pinned Donghae with a glare and he’s finished shoving Hyukjae aside in retaliation for laughing, the ship comes into sight over the hill.

“It’s a different sun,” Sojin says, which isn’t untrue. “There’s a breeze. And pools. And I might be able to escape listening to you two bickering all day every day.”

“That’s Donghae’s fault, not mine,” Hyukjae says. “You fixed the doors, right?”

Following his line of sight, Donghae notices that the inner doors to the cargo hold are already open.

“Sure did. Sojin, can you hop inside and ask Minah to start her up?”

She nods, trotting inside. Donghae follows her up the ramp but stops just inside, peering at the console. Hyukjae hangs back.

“Hae,” he calls, voice uncertain. “Something’s not right.”

There’s a dull thud, the sound of boots scuffling, and Donghae turns around, gun already in hand. The box Hyukjae had been carrying is lying on the ground in front of him, and behind him, a stranger stands, one arm gripping Hyukjae’s bicep, the other pointing a gun at his lower back.

“Howdy,” the stranger greets, and Donghae’s already running stock through in his head – what’ve they got that this man could want, what will it take to make him go away and leave Hyukjae unharmed… there’s still a bundle of money tucked into his waistband. Carefully, gun hand steady, Donghae pulls up the hem of his shirt to show off the money.

“Got cash. You unhand him first and we ain’t got trouble.”

The stranger scoffs, shifting his hold on Hyukjae to brace his arm across his collar, pulling him closer. “Unless you’re planning to give me a cut of this bounty, we don’t have a deal. Actually, let’s just cut out the middleman altogether.”

“Bounty, for my crewman? Think your brain’s all sun-addled,” Donghae tries, frowning. The grin on the stranger’s face grows, but Donghae ignores it trying to catch Hyukjae’s gaze. He’s not even struggling.

“You have no idea what you’re sitting on, do you? No wonder this was so easy. Alliance pays top dollar for this kind of man and you’re still playing trade games.”

Hyukjae is standing calmly, eyes unfocused. He’s making himself small. He looks like the Hyukjae that first stumbled onto Donghae’ ship, the one so disconnected from the world as to barely exist, like the space between a flame and a wick.

“What the hell are you on about?” Donghae feints. “Eunhyuk’s not worth the cost to feed, what’s the Alliance gonna need him for?”

“Eunhyuk, sure. Look, if he ain’t valuable to you, but he’s valuable to me – “ the stranger tightens his grip, jerking Hyukjae closer to his body with the arm braced across his chest, and Donghae aims his gun on instinct. The sound of the trigger cocking open is echoed in the stranger’s firearm, locking the both of them in a standstill. The stranger tilts his head to the side and finishes. “- then I’ll be on my way.”

Donghae’s finger is sweaty on the trigger. Never, never is he unsure of the risk in taking a shot, and never has he been this close to trying despite the odds stacked against him. Hyukjae, eyes allowing a bit of fear to show, inches his hand up over the wrist digging into his collarbone, slim fingers trying in vain to loosen its grip. The same fingers, Donghae thinks in a flash of sense-memory, which had smoothed themselves along the line of his ribcage just the night before – just hours before; light touches as if Donghae is made of porcelain.

The impasse lasts too long.

“Cap’n, she’ll be warmed to go in about five if you two are –“

“Minah, best disappear,” Donghae says just as she comes into his peripheral vision; he doesn’t chance to look, but can imagine her wide-eyed expression anyway. She flits back inside without hesitation.

What happens next certainly ain’t the way Donghae expected the situation to go. Hyukjae – Hyukjae – takes advantage of the stranger’s distraction. He moves so quickly that Donghae can hardly process what happens. The stranger is disarmed, his gun skittering across the ground, and Hyukjae finds another gun and two knives on the man in what Donghae can’t even describe as a struggle. He moves so fluidly that it looks choreographed. The stranger can’t hope to land a blow. Hyukjae’s grip on his wrists is too strong for his lithe frame, but he has the man on his back, unconscious, before the first gun even stops spinning through the dirt.

Dust settles around them, the only indication that time hasn’t arrested completely. Slowly, Donghae lowers his gun.

“…Is he dead?”

Without any acknowledgement, Hyukjae crouches in front of the body and presses two fingertips to the pulse point in his neck. His hand falls away. “No.”

“Okay. That’s… is that a good thing? Hyukjae,” he prods when there’s no reaction.

Hyukjae stands again. When he turns around, he just looks lost.

Footsteps echo through the cargo bay just before Victoria appears, weapon drawn. She lowers it immediately when she sees there’s no longer a threat, but she looks bewildered, staring in confusion at the body. She turns to Donghae. “What the hell happened?”

Donghae opens his mouth, realizes he doesn’t know the answer to that, and closes it again. He turns to Hyukjae. “Hyuk? I’m a little confused here.”

Hyukjae squeezes his eyes shut. “The dogs have found the scent.”

“Is he okay?” Victoria asks uncertainly.

Donghae moves toward Hyukjae, slowly, like he would a spooked horse. Wordlessly, Hyukjae holds out his arms. The skin Is red with irritation around his knuckles and fingertips, but unbroken. Donghae raises his eyes in time to see Hyukjae’s shoulders relax, but his eyes are still shut so tightly that his brow is forrowed. Through pursed lips, he lets out a shh on a sigh, then blinks his eyes open.

He looks at Donghae apologetically for a moment, glances sideways at Victoria, and then leaves. Donghae gapes worriedly at his retreating back, watching even as his footsteps on the cargo floor fade away inside the ship.

“That answers my question,” Victoria says wryly.

“Vic, have you ever – did you know Hyukjae can fight?”

“What? That kid?”

Donghae nods his head toward the prone figure lying in the dirt. “Bounty hunter. Hyukjae took him down like. Like…” he trails off. Like it was natural as breathing, is how, but he can’t think of the right way to explain it.

“Bounty hunter,” Victoria repeats in a grim voice. “Donghae. I respect that this is your ship. Ain’t mine, ain’t my calls. But it’s been a long time we’ve all had questions. Time’s come that they need answering. Who is Hyukjae, exactly?”

Donghae worries his lower lip between his teeth. He’s still coming down from the panic, the clouding of worry and fear away as if through an airlock. He decides to answer as truthfully as he can.

“I don’t know.”

-

 

There’s a persistent hum that Donghae associates with being in space, out of atmo, in the black. A sound that hits just at the low end of the human register; the sound of his ship living and breathing around him. Space has no sound, of course. But if anyone were to ask him to describe it, that’s what Donghae would tell ‘em.

Being planetside isn’t even comparable. The docks on Persephone are loud. It’s bright, the sunlight snaking underneath the brim of his hat as he waits near the open cargo door of his Sandfly, and the volume of voices so many and varied that they sound like they’re saying nothing at all. Just people, all kinds of people. Donghae loves it.

No matter that he’s been standing out here for hours already hoping for a client. Donghae watches the crowd and lets his mind soak it in. It’s like getting a song stuck in his head, saving it for later.

A commotion about 100 meters to his left draws his attention, but he can’t see or hear what’s going on. He squints, as if that’s going to help him see any better, staring until there are sun spots in his eyes and he has to look away, blinking rapidly.

There’s a man standing in front of him. Donghae startles.

The man only smiles an apologetic, friendly sort of smile. Donghae feels mighty foolish because this kid looks like he’d fall over with the breeze, all spindly limbs and pale skin, hair bleached to a soft yellow.

“I heard you’re looking for cargo,” the stranger says.

“Heard rightly,” Donghae says, even as his eyes scan the docks for someone he knows. Anyone who might have recommended him. ‘Course, he is standing here looking for work. Could have been a turn of phrase. The continuing commotion to his left draws his eye again; something about it has him edgy all of a sudden. “What’s the cargo?”

“Me.”

Donghae’s attention swings back to the man. He tilts his head, looking at him in a new light. “Sure, we take on passengers. Where’re you headed?”

The man’s eyes drift up over the bulk of the ship. Haru isn’t one of the biggest boats in the harbor today, not by a long shot, and she’s not very pretty neither. Donghae likes the way this man looks at her, eyes bright. “Out,” he says, voice adrift. “Into the quiet.”

Donghae shifts on his feet. “I’ll take you as far as I can. You got credits?”

The smile lands on his face again. “Coin.”

The man digs some coins out of his pocket, cupping them in one palm and sorting through it with his other hand. His downcast eyes show off the puffiness underneath them, evidence of exhaustion.

“How far will this get me?”

Donghae looks at the pile of coin in his outstretched hand and raises an eyebrow. Truthfully, it wouldn’t even get him off the ground. “Um. Won’t get you past the Halo, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Whatever is happening on the docks has gotten closer to them now, close enough that Donghae can definitely make out an Alliance uniform, voices drifting closer in snatches of conversation that sounds clipped and formal. Donghae’s potential client is looking too, blinking slowly. “The Halo is perfect,” he says, coin clinking in his hand.

“Welcome aboard, then. Got a name?”

The large eyes swing back to land on Donghae’s. “Eun –” he starts. Stops. Says quieter, “Hyukjae.”

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have an inkling of what’s going on. Donghae and his crew ain’t strangers to doing things under the Alliance’s nose if they it’s going to help folk, so long as they’re not putting themselves in danger. Without taking the coin out of Hyukjae’s hand, Donghae nods his head in the direction of his open cargo hold.

“Go on in then. Crew’s ready to go, I’ll be along.”

Hyukjae does have time for a grateful smile, but that’s about it. He disappears inside quick as a blink.

By and by, the Alliance official makes his way on over.

“Afternoon,” Donghae greets with a nod, already pulling his IdentCard out of his back pocket. “Something I can help you with?”

The man barely glances at his card before returning it. “For the safety of the docks, we’re asking everyone to keep an eye out for this man.” He holds out a mobile cortex device, which showing a blurry photo of the man Donghae let onto his ship not two minutes ago.

“No sir, don’t look familiar.”

Donghae is well aware that he’s a terrible liar. It’s easy enough to keep his face neutral and his heart rate down, but the officer studies his face too closely for his liking. Finally, his eyes move away from Donghae’s face and up over Haru, almost disgustingly unimpressed and exactly nothing like the way the man he’s searching for – Hyukjae – had just done.

“There is a reward, if you happen to see him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And if you have seen him, but aren’t saying anything, there’s the opposite of a reward. You’d never be able to fly again,” he adds. Leave it to the Alliance to show their true, grisly colors.

“You’re welcome to take a look, sir,” Donghae says, hard. “But you’ll not find what you’re lookin’ for. Ship’s full up, which you’ll notice when you scan her, and I’m sure you already have.”

With one last hard look at Donghae – or rather, just over Donghae’s shoulder, as the officer can’t even deign to look him full in the eye, he gives his head the slightest jerk in the ship’s direction. Three more officers seem to melt out of the crowd, weapons holstered but there in plain sight.

“We’ll be taking you up on your offer, Captain Lee.”

Donghae knows Haru better than he knows himself. He’s certain there are any number of places to find that the Alliance won’t think to look. He ducks inside along with the officers, hollering for Sunny to gather everyone in the bay. They come, one by one, looking confused. Donghae catches Victoria’s eye, sees nothing but calm there, despite the set of her jaw.

All five of his crew gather together and there’s no sign of Hyukjae at all. The men disappear into the depths of the ship, making Donghae feel a little dirty if the truth be told. He’s seen enough of the ‘Verse to know the lie of the Alliance’s shiny civilization crusade. His heart thumps somewhere around the base of his throat, and under the watch of the official, Donghae doesn’t even have the luxury of explaining the whole thing to the crew. He just waits for them to return, Hyukjae in tow; to tell them that one bad decision made in the last five minutes is about to ruin the rest of his life.

But the men return empty handed, leaving as quickly as they’d come. With a final warning from the official that he is to report immediately if he sees the wanted man, the danger seems to have passed.

Only Donghae is confused as all hell.

“Where is he?” he asks after closing the bay doors. Five pairs of eyes blink at him in confusion.

“Where is who? And what in seven hells just happened?” Youngwoon asks.

There’s the sound of metal on metal and a small echo from the back of the bay, and from behind one of the hidden panels covering the hold, Hyukjae carefully steps his way out.

“Nothing that concerns us,” Donghae says distractedly, watching Hyukjae approach.

“Um,” Victoria starts, while Sunny waves at him happily.

“This is Hyukjae,” she says. “He came up askin’ for a hiding place.”

“Sunny, for ’s sake, you can’t just let anyone wander in –”

“I let him in,” Donghae cuts Youngwoon off. “He’s our passenger.”

“She keeps secrets,” Hyukjae tells him, smiling contentedly. Then he bows to the crew. “When’s the meal?”

-

 

Strangely, there’s a knock on his bunk door in the middle of the night. Night according to Haru’s artificial circadian rhythm, anyway. And since it ain’t the first strange thing that’s happened to Donghae in the last 24 hours, it’s easy enough to put two and two together.

Climbing sleepily up the hatch, Donghae swings the door up and isn’t too surprised to see Hyukjae standing there. He’d been quiet, if a bit jumpy, and ate twice as much protein as a normal man should have any appetite for. All in all, he was looking to be an easy passenger – although Donghae still hasn’t gotten that coin from him  - and well, he apparently can’t stay in his bunk through the night, either. Shouldn’t count your chickens, he supposes.

Donghae peers up at his dark silhouette, half-expecting Hyukjae to ask directions to the bathroom or something, when Hyukjae starts to climb down.

“Uh,” Donghae starts, but his voice croaks out of him and he’s busy shuffling back down the ladder to make room. By the time he’s got his thoughts together, Hyukjae has already located the bed and lied down on top of it. “Somethin’ wrong with your bunk?” he asks, bewildered.

“Cold,” is all he says, blinking at Donghae through the dark.

Which is pretty much how Donghae winds up sharing his bed with a near stranger in the middle of the night. Hyukjae is at least respectful of his space, allowing Donghae to crawl back under his covers without breaching his personal space. Hyukjae turns onto his side.

“It’s a good ship,” he says, hushed. “She’s enough, you know. You shouldn’t worry.”

“Worry about what?”

“Boat needs a crew. Crew can’t fly without a boat. They’ll stay, and you don’t even have to ask.”

Donghae gazes up at the ceiling, not daring to turn his head. Haru’s engines thrum. Soft hair brushes his arm as Hyukjae tucks his head, warmth reaching out across the inches between their bodies. Eventually, into the quiet, Donghae says, “I’m not lonely.”

Hyukjae doesn’t respond. He might still be awake, but Donghae decides it’s safe to look.

He shifts slightly onto his hip, a barely noticeable movement, but still bumps into Hyukjae’s fingers under the sheets. He doesn’t react. Donghae looks down at the top of his head, dark roots beneath the blonde dye, reading them like the rings of a tree. Weeks, maybe a month, maybe longer that he was on his own, the Alliance lurking around every corner. Donghae’s study shifts to the smooth curve of his cheek and he wonders, not for the last time, what brought this boy to his ship.

After this night, Hyukjae’s bunk remains his in name only – or at least, initial, after the time Sunny decided Haru needed to look more like a home; an H decorated with paper stars tacked up beside the number 4, crossed out with two strips of electrical tape.

Donghae just couldn’t ever find a reason to stop him from crawling into his bed at night. Mostly because, well -  he never really minded.

 

-

 

Donghae sets the bounty hunter’s weapons onto the table, tossing the rest of his personal effects along with it. Then he steps back, runs a hand over his face, and regards the assembly in the galley. Five pairs of eyes turn to him.

He hasn’t seen Hyukjae since they’d been planetside. Minah confirms that he’d been in the engine room when they were flying out of atmo, so Donghae figures he’ll give him his space for now.

“’Fraid to say it but we might have to postpone our little vacation,” he says, genuinely sorry. Nobody seems really bothered by this, so he pushes on. “I can’t say if the bounty hunter tracked us through town or if he’s got a read on the ship.”

“So our plan for now is, what, run and hide?” Youngwoon asks, glowering a bit in Donghae’s direction. “Should have killed the guī érzi when we had the chance.”

“We don’t kill anyone who ain’t asking for it,” Donghae says evenly.

“’We’?”

“Yes, we. Are you a part of this ship or not?”

“Guys, don’t,” Victoria sighs. “What’s done is done. Best we know is that Hyukjae is safe for now.”

There are things they all know about Hyukjae that none of them play at knowing. Nobody speaks a word of it. Things like Hyukjae knowing what he shouldn’t, clues in the way he moves and the moods that change, playful and bright in the morning; wide-eyed and wandering the ship like he’s never seen anything like it by evening. Not even Donghae ever asks. Most of the time, he’s just fine. Not so for the first little while he’d been on the ship, but his behavior earlier was a stark reminder of just how much has changed in him. The corner of Donghae’s mouth pulls down in worry.

“What’s the punishment, do you think?” Sunny wonders to the room at large. Nobody replies. “Oh, come on,” she says, “We all know it. We’re harboring a fugitive. There’s no point in playing dumb any longer. Victoria, what’s the punishment?”

“It’s death, of course.” Victoria replies swiftly, not taking a hint of offense from Sunny asking her directly. She’s got plenty of reasons to know how dirty the Alliance plays if they think of you as uncivilized. Sure ain’t Sunny’s fault if she was born with a silver spoon in either. If they weren’t all aware of the differences in where they came from, Donghae’s crew would likely have torn each other apart by now.

There’s a silence, as if anyone expected a different answer. Donghae’s heartbeat picks up pace. “Listen up,” he says, centering his weight. “Anyone doesn’t want to stay on board, you can leave at the next port. No hard feelings. But I leave no man behind who ain’t deserve to be left. Hyukjae stays on this boat.”

“No one’s suggesting that!” Minah says, voice just this side of calm, but she looks around wild-eyed, as if she’s going to be challenged.

“Vic?” Donghae asks.

“You know I’m loyal.”

“Sunny? Your curiosity satisfied?”

“Cap’n, I wasn’t trying to imply – ”

“I know. Sorry.” Donghae works on relaxing his jaw.

“Sojin?”

“I go where Haru goes,” Sojin replies, the fading red of her hair brushing against the tabletop as she leans over it. She doesn’t raise her eyes.

“Okay. Yougwoon.”

Youngwoon’s the only other one standing, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are soft when he looks across the table at Donghae. “The Alliance thinks they can own people, but I know that boy, Donghae. We all know him. Whoever the Alliance wants – it’s not Hyukjae. It doesn’t matter why he’s running.”

Donghae lets out a breath, smoothing a hand through his hair. “Okay. Alright. Then let’s figure out the next step. Sunny, are you damn sure nobody followed us out of atmo?”

“Not a gorram soul,” she confirms.

“So, anyone who knows the ship is going to wait for us or chase us. Can’t let them know where we’re headed. Minah? Can you promise we’ll be able to get the pulse drive working in the black?”

“Sure, but I can’t guarantee where we’ll end up.”

“That’s fine.”

“Captain,” Sunny asks, “are we planning to drift?”

“I think so. Aux life support will give us a few days.” It’s dangerous, but so is every other option they have right now. If they let Haru adrift, no vessel can track her movements or even find her on radar. ‘Course, they’ll be sitting ducks if anyone just happens upon them, but it’s not likely. They have the best chance of shaking off pursuers if they go straight up missing. “Any objections?”

Vague head-shakes around the table, but Youngwoon’s eyes move over Donghae’s shoulder and he nods his head toward the doorway.

Hyukjae is hovering there, looking around the room owlishly. “Hey,” Donghae smiles softly. “You okay with that? Going adrift?”

“We’ll be lost,” Hyukjae says.

“Not really,” Sunny says. “We’ll find our bearings.”

Hyukjae’s eyes move to her slowly, and then back to Donghae. “Lost is good,” he says, and then disappears with a nod.

“All right,” Donghae says into the silence that ensues. “Let’s get to it.”

-

 

It’s downright eerie, walking around this boat without the rumble of her engine. It’s the quietest three days of Donghae’s life. Not like it’s much different from when they’re movin’, save for the strange underwater feel of the red aux lights, and the fact that Hyukjae has been as elusive as a wild deer since they went adrift. Not that he’s been looking. Hyukjae needs his space, but – Donghae’s bunk has been empty.

They’re all set to start up the pulse drive, bring Haru back to life, and Donghae needs to find Hyukjae to let him know. He has a decent guess where he might be.

Minah looks up from her book and waves at him happily when he enters the engine room.

“Hey, Min, she ready to fly?” Donghae glances around the crowded space, ignoring the eerily still engine, and spots Hyukjae sitting with his back to the wall beside the engine, watching him silently.

“Think she’s getting as bored as we are. You here to take away my second pair of hands?”

“Right, because you’ve been so busy in here. And yes, I’m taking him away. Hey, Hyuk.”

“Lee Donghae,” Hyukjae says from the floor. There’s a soft, warm smile playing at his lips, and when Donghae catches his eye, he grins and holds out both hands, wriggling his fingers. Donghae grasps his hands and pulls him to his feet, but he overbalances – purposefully, Donghae thinks, because the act of catching Hyukjae’s body with his own has them pressed together from shoulder to hip.

Donghae lets out an oof.

 “I missed you,” Hyukjae says, smiling like the last few days haven’t been fraught with tension for the entire crew.

“Uh, I didn’t go anywhere. We’re on a spaceship. In the middle of space?”

He can’t tell which Hyukjae he’s talking to - if the past few days on his own has helped pull him out of his relapse or not. He looks over his shoulder at Minah, trying to get a clue, but she just shakes her head and laughs.

“Dead in the water,” Hyukjae confirms. “When the propellers wake up, all the air bubbles go pop pop pop.” He shuffles closer still, sliding one leg between Donghae’s. His voice goes low in Donghae’s ear. “So we have to be quiet.”

“O-okay!” Donghae steps back, catching Hyukjae’s wrist and turns to go. “Minah, if you’re ready, wait for the go-ahead.”

“Aye aye,” she says, and Donghae does not appreciate the laughter they leave behind.

-

“Um,” he starts. He’s always hated talking through the intercom, but Hyukjae’s face tucked into his shoulder is distracting enough already. “Slight change of plans, we won’t be heading off for another few minutes – (“Minutes,” Hyukjae chuckles, sliding his arms around Donghae’s waist) – no, hours, so um, everyone get some rest, sorry.”

Hyukjae barely gives him enough time to make it down the ladder into their bunk before Hyukjae is pressing in close again, fingers dipping under the hem of his shirt to play with the skin just above Donghae’s waistline.

He missed Hyukjae, too. Missing him and worrying about him are feelings like brothers, even though half the time he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be worrying about. But he draws Hyukjae forward for a  kiss, even as doubt lingers in the back of his mind. Hyukjae, despite his earlier impatience, kisses back softly, like he’s savoring it.

“Hyuk,” Donghae breathes, “You sure you’re up for this?”

Hyukjae sets his lips to the corner of his jaw, humming lightly. “It’s hard to… think straight. Everything’s all…” he huffs in frustration, pulling back to gesture in the air, his hands tumbling over one another.

“Scrambled?” Donghae tries.

“Yes. Scrambled, but okay. Please take off your shirt.”

“So polite,” Donghae laughs, and complies. Hyukjae strips out of his clothes too – no mood for romance, Donghae thinks wryly – and Donghae sighs when they share the same space again, almost needing a minute to gather himself. Something to be said about life-affirming . Maybe they shouldn’t wait three days next time.

Hyukjae’s singular focus shows itself again as he grapples for Donghae’s hand, drawing it between their bodies. He gets the idea, wrapping his hand around Hyukjae’s already hardening and pumping slowly. It’s dry, but it satisfies something in Hyukjae, who slumps a bit, eyes drawing closed. Donghae uses his free hand to tip his chin up, the little sighs Hyukjae lets into his mouth more than enough to convince him that this is okay.

He steps away when the closeness is becoming too much, twisting his fingers lightly at the head of Hyukjae’s before moving back. He doesn’t quite make it where he means to go – Hyukjae pushes him forward with hands firm on his hips, reminding Donghae of that surprising strength. He manages to lay himself out on the bed before Hyukjae has the chance to make him, wasting no time in settling on his knees above Donghae.

Donghae twists his upper body, reaching for the metal drawer beside where the bed meets the wall. “Hyukjae,” he warns, reaching in the drawer with shaking fingers to draw out their one precious bottle of lube; Hyukjae is pressing his hips back onto Donghae’s , making fine motor skills way too hard to focus on. He ends up dragging out the entire strip of condoms, which Hyukjae wastes no time with, tearing off two.

“Hey,” Donghae says, catching his hand, “woah. Come back to me.”

Hyukjae stills, breathing labored – maybe it’s the recycled auxiliary oxygen – maybe not. Donghae sits up as much as he can, reaching for him, slowing him down with a kiss.

“Sorry,” Hyukjae whispers against his lips. Donghae shakes his head at the apology. He releases Hyukjae’s hand and lies back again, watching as Hyukjae bites his lip when he rolls on his own , then Donghae’s. He leans forward, searching out Donghae’s hands deliberately, pressing them down with his own.

“You’re so loud,” he whispers harshly. “Stop thinking.” Donghae’s eyes are forced closed when Hyukjae touches their foreheads together. He withdraws one hand to tug at Donghae’s lazily. “Stop.”

He sits up again far too soon, searching for the lube. Donghae watches him – face flushed, hair in his eyes; he doesn’t know if he can. He can’t stop. He can’t separate the warm flush of contentment, having Hyukjae here and safe and wanting, from the rush of heat in his body.

Then Hyukjae rises on his knees just enough to slip his own slicked fingers into himself, and Donghae stops thinking entirely.

There’s not much he can do but watch. Hyukjae’s eyes squeeze shut in concentration, his lean torso starting to shine with sweat; Donghae draws a hand down his side, across the front of his body; it’s all he can do but reach, touch. Hyukjae’s lost.

Donghae rises on an elbow, finding the lube. Hyukjae gasps, eyes blinking open when Donghae slides in a finger alongside Hyukjae’s. His eyes seek him out, and there, it’s the two of them again, pressing into the yielding heat, working him open until Hyukjae lets out a bitten moan and loses his patience.

Donghae only lines himself up, all the air punched out of his lungs when Hyukjae lowers himself  - too quickly, maybe, but when Donghae can think beyond the wave of pleasure, Hyukjae doesn’t look pained at all. He has his eyes closed again, chest rising and falling, rising and falling. Donghae doesn’t have to wait long before he lifts himself up again, then lowers himself back onto Donghae’s and they both groan together.

He is aware that his mouth has fallen open, but he can’t really do anything but breathe and try to let Hyukjae do what he needs to. And he needs. Donghae’s grip on his hips begins to redden the skin and so he pulls them away, gripping the sheets instead, unable to stop his hips from snapping up to meet Hyukjae’s.

It brings Hyukjae out of himself again. “Donghae,” he whines, hands slipping on the skin of Donghae’s chest, “Hae, Donghae –“

Donghae feels himself wind up too tightly, and when Hyukjae brings a hand to his own he almost loses it right then. His fingers uncramp from the tangle of sheets and he reaches out too, drawing his hand down further, watches Hyukjae get lost again when he comes. His hands finally slip off Donghae’s chest and he falls forward, bracketing Donghae’s body with his forearms, breath heavy and spent in Donghae’s ear as he seeks out his own release. It doesn’t take much, just a few more s and Hyukjae’s weak moans and the memory of his expression, like he’s far away from anything that could ever bother him.

It’s hard to catch their breath. The air in the cabin doesn’t help. It feels like it’s been burned away, swept up into the sweat, the slide of their mouths as they come together and apart, gasping.

He tries to shift out from underneath the weight of Hyukjae’s body, but he’s exhausted, weak as a kitten, not even ashamed. “Hey,” he presses a kiss to Hyukjae’s temple, “You’re kinda heavy, babe.”

Hyukjae makes a sound of disagreement deep in his throat. “Not heavy.” He says this, but he moves anyway, rolling just far enough to ease the constriction on Donghae’s chest, but not far enough away that their bodies aren’t still pressed inch to inch. “Weightless.”

His voice is sluggish with sleep, his features relaxed, his breaths matching Donghae’s breaths. Unbidden, Donghae’s mind conjures up the memory of Hyukjae standing in front of Haru, looking her up and down with eyes so far away. He always thought he knew what Hyukjae was hiding from, but now he wonders. Now he thinks, maybe: himself. Maybe: he never actually escaped. Maybe: he never will.

“Yeah,” he whispers to a sleeping Hyukjae, pushing hair away from his forehead, damp with sweat. “Light as air.”

 

-

Donghae leans over the console, staring down at the cortex while horror curls all the way down to his toes.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Sunny says quietly beside him, fidgeting. They’re still set on course for Newhope, but Donghae feels suddenly like they’re drifting towards doom. Like he’s sent ‘em straight there.

Hyukjae’s face stares up at him from the monitor, words like ‘alert’ and ‘reward’  swimming around in Donghae’s head. Sandfly-class transport, last seen on Herschel. Information spread across the cortex relays for potentially the entire time they were on blackout.

Youngwoon shoulders him out of the way, talking quickly about slowing down until they can plan their next move, while Donghae tunes him out.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Hyukjae, standing near the doorway, eyes fixed on Donghae. “We’ll figure something else out.”

What, he doesn’t know. Keep running? The others are still talking quickly, the cortex is still flashing an alert; Donghae leans against the wall beside Hyukjae, struggling to focus through the haze of guilt.

Hyukjae stirs, shuffling closer until they press together at the shoulder. Pitched low, only for Donghae’s ears, he says, “They tried to erase Hyukjae, but they couldn’t. They can’t take him away from himself, don’t worry.” His fingers slide down Donghae’s forearm, touch at the palm of his hand; Donghae presses their hands together, palm to palm. Hyukjae’s voice is a low murmur. “But they can take him away from you.”

He focuses on breathing slow and even. “That ain’t going to happen. I promise.”

“Well what else can we do!” Youngwoon is saying, Victoria trying to calm him down and getting frustrated when he won’t. “They’ll have to chase us clear to Old Sol, else we turn ourselves in. This is the Alliance we’re talking about, not some pithy bounty hunter.”

“We don’t run,” Donghae says suddenly, lurching forward. “We hide.”

All eyes swing to him.

“Pardon,” Sojin says from the corner. “But what’s the difference?”

“The difference is that we’re about to cross Murphy’s orbit,” Donghae says, pointing at the navigation screen. “Hera’s in that system.”

“Hera,” Victoria echoes, eyes lighting up. Donghae grins.

“Hera. And Kim Heechul.”

 

-

The wind on Hera is high, howling across the long walk to Heechul’s place. It’s in the middle of gorram nowhere, and yet Heechul’s connected to what seems like everything out here – just too far out of the Alliance’s reach. The winds whistle by and take voices with them as they go, so Donghae huddles close to Hyukjae as they walk, Youngwoon at his other side. Heads bowed and backs hunched, Youngwoon hisses, “We have us an exit plan? In case things go south?”

Donghae frowns. “Why would that happen? It’s just Heechul.”

“Exactly. Look, I know you and your doe-eyes have him in your pocket, but you remember what happened last time.”

He’s more confused than ever, watching his own boots as they tramp through the grass. “Youngwoon, just talk straight.”

“Oh, for – come on, you know it. He hates Hyukjae.”

Donghae frowns harder, swaying a bit to his right and bumping his shoulder against Hyukjae’s. “That’s not true. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Hyukjae deadpans.

They walk in silence for a few more steps, Donghae furiously examining his memories of the last time they’d seen Heechul. Could be he didn’t notice it, even if it were there. Just don’t make sense in his head, how two people he loves could be at odds.

“There won’t be any trouble,” Hyukjae adds. “Heechul values your happiness. That’s all.”

As they finally draw nearer to the entrance, they pass under and around a mess of satellites, wires, high twisted sculptures of metal and technology that has been cobbled together by bootleg and Alliance waste and some level of genius that Donghae, as much as he admires him, knows Heechul could not have put together on his own. The door swings open as, ahead of them, Victoria and Sojin approach.

“Well look at this sorry band of thieves,” Heechul says. Half the time he makes no sense. “On the lam.”

Donghae skips ahead to envelop him in a hug. Heechul, cursing at him and swatting at his head, allows the hug anyway and then leads them all into the building. Cheeks wind-burned and hair a mess, they all crowd into a room that would be large if it weren’t lined floor to ceiling with tech and monitors. Heechul flops into the only chair in the room, which sits beside a desk from which a gray cat jumps, swishing its tail in annoyance.

“Business first?”

Donghae nods. “Thanks, Heechul.”

“Please tell me that means there will be pleasure later,” Victoria says, combing the knots out of her hair with her fingers.

“That’s up to you. Unfortunately the fèi wù I hired to cover your tracks hasn’t -”

“Will you ever learn patience?” comes a familiar voice from a communicator on Heechul’s wrist.

“Will you ever learn to answer a wave?”

“I was busy. What do you want.”

Heechul snorts. “Busy, sure,” he mutters, then, “Guess what? Donghae’s got a fugitive. Gone all respectable on us.”

“Lee Donghae?”

“Hi, Kyuhyun!” Donghae chirps. He can practically feel Youngwoon’s eye roll from beside him; if Donghae’s easy to earn trust from, he sure ain’t going to be embarrassed about it.

“I’ll be damned. You mean you’re not kissing Alliance anymore?”

“Not with the Feds on our tail.”

Kyuhyun whistles low, the sound of typing coming through the comm. “! How did I miss that? You’re a wanted man. Well, you and – Lee Hyukjae?”

Glancing to his right, Donghae notices that Hyukjae isn’t even paying attention. His eyes are scanning the room, but he blinks and looks at Donghae, then around at Heechul.

“Eunhyuk,” Heechul says into the comm, and Kyuhyun says, “Ohhhh. Shocking. Okay, I’m working on it. Looks like they tracked Haru from Newhope. Says you disappeared for a few days. Clever, but we’re gonna teach you some new tricks when I’m done.”

“We’re clear, though? Don’t want them to bother you none. Looks like nobody followed us, but –”

“They’ll find you. Well, they would. They won’t be able to in about ten minutes. I’m hacking into your cortex, someone there to answer?”

“Sunny’s there.” Donghae says. The comm lets out a long beep to signify that Kyuhyun has hung up.

Heechul and Hyukjae seem to have gotten involved in a staring match. Worrying about what Youngwoon said earlier, Donghae opens his mouth to break the tension just before Hyukjae says, “They’ve always known.” Matter-of-fact.

 “, that’s creepy. No wonder the Feds want him. How long has he been a reader?”

The door swinging open as Heechul speaks makes it too much going on at once, Donghae can’t process what Heechul said quickly enough. The woman who has entered is saying, “You can speak to him like he’s a real person, you know,” gentle scolding in her voice.

Heechul ignores her comment entirely. “Ah! Look who finally showed up. Please tell me you didn’t wait until the last second like Kyuhyun?”

“I’m going to take that ‘please’ as a demonstration of politeness rather than sarcasm,” the woman says, patting Heechul on the head as she makes her way around the table. He doesn’t react, just flips his hair back into place.

“Puff has your new IdentCards. Congratulations, you no longer exist.”

The woman, Puff, brushes her short hair behind an ear and smiles kindly at them. “Of course you still exist, but you have new names and numbers now. And before you ask, yes, all of your credits are still intact.”

Doesn’t sit right with Donghae, the implication that credits are more important than identification. But it’s all paper, just words. His good reputation might be gone, but as Puff hands out their cards, Donghae finds that he doesn’t regret it. Aiden Lee, his card says. It’s the same photo as the government issue card he’s got back on the ship. No point in it, he supposes, as his likeness is already plastered across the cortex in at least one star system, if not the whole ‘verse.

“Kang In,” Youngwoon says, shrugging. “Works for me.”

Donghae looks across the room in time to see Victoria give Sojin’s arm a quick, affectionate squeeze; Sojin’s shoulders are relaxed, but she looks like she’s holding back tears. She smiles at Victoria through them, and Donghae is glad to know this has done some bit of good. Sojin could use a fresh start.

Beside him, Hyukjae is holding his card in one hand and, with the other, tracing his finger around the border of his photo frame. His name, official in the eyes of an unawares Alliance, appears to be Yu Jihyuk now, which is just as well since Donghae had blown the cover of his last code name.

Then he notices the photo and freezes.

“Sorry about that,” Puff says tells Hyukjae quietly. “I couldn’t find any recent photos of you aside from the one the Feds are broadcasting, so that will have to do for the moment. It can be changed when you all have more time.”

Hyukjae nods vaguely at her, muttering a quiet, “Xiè xiè.”

He looks so young in the photo. His hair is short and neat, and he’s smiling for the camera, carefully showing teeth but not gums. It’s clearly an official identification photo, most likely the one taken for his coming of age. What makes Donghae’s chest feel tight is the clear, bright look in his eyes; the baby fat still clinging to his cheeks. He looks proud. It’s proof in Donghae’s mind of what he’s always suspected – that Hyukjae wasn’t always like this. Would be much easier if he had; so what if his head don’t always follow the same paths as everyone else? Makes no difference in a person, as far as Donghae is concerned.

Only, this way it means that something, someone, made Hyukjae this way. And most likely without his consent or understanding.

While he watches, Hyukjae stops ghosting his fingers across the frame and very deliberately covers it with his palm, wrapping the Ident in his hand and lowering it into his pocket.

Heechul’s wrist comm crackles to life a moment later, and Kyuhyun’s voice announces that he’s finished re-identifying Haru in the system and that they should take her for a spin, make sure no red flags come up when they request a legitimate landing. Heechul gleefully suggests a saloon near one of Hera’s official ports, and then it’s back across the windy plain. Donghae trails behind a step or two, watching Hyukjae’s shoulders hunch against the bitter cold of it, and knows for certain he’s doing the right thing.

-

 

It’s a tense ride around the planet, all the way out of atmo, circling back to the docks. But they make it through with no problems, everyone on board letting out sighs of relief while they pretend they were never worried in the first place.

Once they’ve got their feet on the ground, they’re free. Sunny tips her head back, arms stretched out beside her, whirling as she walks; Victoria paces along behind her, amused. They all spread out a bit when they hit the town. Donghae watches Sojin and Minah stroll around a corner arm in arm, faces bright with sunshine, and ducks into Heechul’s promised saloon along with Victoria, Hyukjae on his heels.

Heechul must be spending too much time in his hidey-hole, Donghae thinks, looking around the perfectly ordinary saloon. It’s crowded even in the afternoon, dim and smoky. They order tonic that is thankfully cheap in the sense that there’s little to no real alcohol, which is just fine, as they’re all needing their wits about them. Hyukjae doesn’t even touch his. Following his line of sight, Donghae notes that he’s busy watching the group of people sitting around one of the tables in the back. Looks like shady business.

Victoria laughs loudly at something Heechul’s said, shaking Donghae’s attention away from Hyukjae, trying to catch up to Heechul’s story. It’s why he doesn’t notice that Hyukjae has gone and slipped out of his seat until it’s too late to stop him. He’s winding his way through the bar, heading straight for whatever underhanded deal is most likely happening, and Donghae knows firsthand that Hyukjae can take care of himself, but he also knows they can’t take any risks right now.

“ – look familiar,” Donghae hears as he approaches, an angry-looking man playing casually with a gun squinting at Hyukjae.

“Well I’ll be damned,” says another voice, surprised. It belongs to a gorgeous, composed woman, who doesn’t look away from Hyukjae as she says, “Sir, might want to pay attention to this.”

The first man snaps his fingers suddenly, half rising out of his seat. “It’s the gorram kid what got us trapped here,” he says, just as the third man, wearing a long brown coat, catches sight of Hyukjae.

“Oh, no,” he says immediately. “No no, we are not taking another one. Kid, we ain’t gonna help you.”

“I think he’s already taken care of, sir,” the woman says, having caught sight of Donghae a few paces behind.

“Can we turn this one in?”

“No, Jayne.”

Jayne turns on the browncoat in indignation. “Aw– come on!”

“We are not turning him in, Jayne, we ain’t discussing this further.”

“Fine,” Jayne grumbles, flopping heavily back into his seat and kicking the table leg for good measure.

“Listen, honey,” the woman stands up, looking at Hyukjae, who hasn’t spoken a word. “We can’t help you. Do you understand?”

“We’re sitting ducks,” Hyukjae says.

“Plumb right.” Browncoat lowers his voice. “Alliance on the lookout across Georgia. Won’t make out of Murphy. Wish we could help you.” His smile is oddly flat, eyes focused pointedly on Hyukjae as he speaks. “But we won’t. Can’t! Meant we can’t.”

Hyukjae remains still, eyes focused on the Browncoat, until Donghae inches forward and takes him gently by the wrist.

“Hyuk. We have to go.”

He takes a step backward, but pauses again to say, “Take care of her.”

Suddenly it’s like they can’t get out of here fast enough. They maybe knock into a few tables on the way back to theirs, Victoria and Heechul wearing matching expressions of confusion.

“Did I miss something, or –”

“Time to kuài qù hen yuan de dì fang,” Donghae says, dumping some coin onto their table. “Victoria, can you gather the others? We’re flying out. I’ll explain on the way.”

Before they leave, Hyukjae twists to get a final glimpse at the Browncoat and his companions, something like hope lighting his face.

-

 

“You’ll repay me for this,” Heechul warns. Donghae rolls his eyes.

“I heard you the first three times.”

“You know how hard those are to get ahold of? And I’m giving you three. You should bow to me. Bow!”

Donghae shoves him, laughing, and Heechul barely rights himself before toppling over onto the plain. Ahead of them, Youngwoon wheels the last of the NAVSAT drones into the cargo bay. He hopes they won’t have to use them, but even Donghae’s optimism can only go so far. As soon as they’d fired up the scanners on the way back to Heechul’s lonely, blustery little corner of Hera, the screens lit up with Alliance ships. Donghae’d felt his skin prickle when two of them had scanned as short-range enforcement ships. Weren’t a chance in hell of escaping one of those, even with Sunny’s flying.

He hugs Heechul goodbye for what is likely longer than normal. “Stop,” he grumbles, “save it for when you come back.”

Donghae pulls away, smiling bleakly before he heads inside the ship.

“You’re coming back!” Heechul calls, the wind sweeping his words across the plain.

 

-

They drift once they leave atmo, planning their next move. The major planets are out of the question – moons or satellites are their best bet, just until things calm down. Halfway through a low, mumbled conversation with Victoria about their chances of making it out to Blue Sun – about whether they should head out to Blue Sun in the first place, Donghae catches Hyukjae breaking away from the group in his peripheral vision, Sunny in tow.

He follows them onto the bridge, where Sunny is already pulling up the star map.

“Hae,” Sunny says, unsurprised to see him there. “Our boy has been holding out on us.”

Hyukjae shrugs at him apologetically. “It’s not very clear. But that Browncoat wasn’t as good at hiding his thoughts as he thinks.” He pauses, tilting his head to the side. “Or at least, he hid just enough to stay under the radar. I need to know…”

He closes his eyes, silent for long enough that Donghae exchanges a worried glance with Sunny. He waits, mulling over Hyukjae’s words until they jog something in his memory: How long has he been a reader?

It’s not really much of a shock, he has to admit. Donghae files that information away with all the other things he know about Hyukjae without having to be told; things he knew, but couldn’t name.

Finally, Hyukjae opens his eyes and turns them on Sunny. “How do you get where you’re going?”

Sunny pulls up the map, brightly informing them how she calculates the coordinates and how the guiding system works. After a few minutes Donghae stops her with a gentle hand on her shoulder; Hyukjae is just blinking at her wordlessly.

“I don’t think that’s what he’s asking, Sunny.”

“Oh!” Sunny says, sitting back in her seat and regarding Hyukjae with a tilt of her head. “Well, we just fly then, don’t we? We start at point A, we fly to point B.”

As simplistic as that sounds, it seems to be the answer Hyukjae wanted to hear.

“But direction is infinite,” he says, leaning over her chair to point at the map. “You start in the garden, you could end in the fire. We pick here, and here, and here –” he stretches his fingers out to touch the little dots of light, the representations of stations and satellites, moons and planets, “- and they all say no.”

He draws in all five fingers to converge on their actual destination, the coordinates lit up in green to show that Haru knows where she’s headed. “So this is the only place left.”

Sunny leans toward Donghae and says in a stage-whisper, “That’s what I was telling him before.”

Donghae raises his eyebrows and shushes her with a finger to his lips. She wrinkles her nose, smiling.

Hyukjae drops his hand but doesn’t turn away, face illuminated by the map, moons and ships and waylines folded around the planes of his face. He’s got that lost, innocent look about him again – the same look that had Donghae hiding him in his cargo hold all those years ago, Alliance members sniffing around and threatening to destroy everything Donghae had built, and his dumb hiding a fugitive for no reason other than he looked like he needed protecting.

“Schoolyard children playing hide and seek,” Hyukjae says by way of answer. “This one’s hiding.” He points at a coordinate so small that the information which pops up under his touch shows them only a number. A manufacturing satellite, maybe. “What’s he thinking?”

After a long moment in which neither Donghae nor Sunny say anything, Hyukjae looks at Donghae and he realizes he’s waiting for an answer. Only Donghae’s lost, no longer used to the paths Hyukjae’s thoughts follow when he’s unwinding the maze in his head like this. So Donghae shrugs apologetically and shakes his head. Hyukjae blinks.

“He’s thinking, Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.”

Silence. Sunny twists her head to look up at Donghae, meeting his eyes in the exact moment that he catches on to what Hyukjae is telling them.

“Sunny, redirect coordinates-“ he starts, but she’s already moving, hands fluttering smartly over the controls, saying, “I’m on it, Cap’n.”

-

Never an easy thing, docking onto a space station. Especially without clearance, but it’s looking like that won’t be a problem. Looks like a bazaar of some sort. Lots of people, lots of illegal activity. Theoretically it could be a good place to blend in, but Donghae feels uneasy.

“I don’t understand,” Youngwoon says under his breath. “We dock here, ain’t no place to run.”

“It’s gotta be something.”

The bridge is crowded again, everyone watching nervously as they approach. Donghae’s not worried about Sunny’s flying, that’s for sure, but Youngwoon does have a point. He glances over at the copilot’s helm where Hyukjae sits, but he’s just watching, wide-eyed.

As expected, they dock without a hitch. Donghae picks Victoria and Youngwoon to scope the place out with him and orders the others to stay on board, but as the cargo doors slide open, Hyukjae announces that he’s coming, too.

“Huh?” Donghae stares at him. “Hyuk, you know that’s… not safe, right? It ain’t our faces blasting all over the cortex.”

“You need me,” he says simply.

There’s a ten minute argument that follows, but Hyukjae never wavers. It goes against every protective instinct in his body, but Donghae can’t think of a single damn time he ain’t let Hyukjae make his own decisions, and he weren’t planning on starting now.

It’s beyond loud. The bazaar itself is only a small part of the station, located in the center for easy access from the docks. They try to act as naturally as possible, but Donghae can’t shake the feeling like they’re sticking out like a sore thumb. Winding their way through shopfronts with wares ranging from so-called “organic” foodstuffs to poorly concealed counterfit Alliance weaponry, oldtech shined up to look like newtech, Blue Sun Corp advertisements running through their heads like a soundtrack, Donghae finds himself watching the lean lines of Hyukjae’s back, ahead of him once again. He traces the shape, a sick corner of his mind promising that he won’t forget it, even if they don’t manage to make it out of here.

“So,” says a chillingly familiar voice from behind him, “Look who tripped straight through the trap wire.”

He whirls around, reaching back to grab at Hyukjae’s arm on instinct. It’s the bounty hunter – the one he let live, Donghae’s mind helpfully reminds him –

“Hold, hold,” Hyukjae hisses in his ear. There are too many people in close quarters for the hunter to do anything for the moment, but Donghae can hear the crackle of a comm from behind him and Victoria’s rushed voice.

“Seven blue uniforms,” Hyukjae mutters, even Sojin’s voice on the comm says “Seven…. points from the center… and the far side.”

“Lucky for me,” the hunter continues, “There’s nowhere in the whole gorram system you can run to this time,” and Hyukjae says, “Now.”

The bounty hunter actually stands still and watches as they run. Sojin’s voice is leading them through, away from the bazaar and out towards the edge of the station, into its ribcage of supply lines and cargo rooms.

Donghae suggests – demands – asks Sunny through his own comm to get Haru to an empty dock on the other side of the station, hoping they can just run and keep running, straight out the edge of the entire ‘Verse if they need to. He lets his thoughts glance off Hyukjae as they wind their way through the station, because either he was tricked or led them here for some other reason, and neither thought is one Hyukjae needs to concern himself with at the moment.

“Twenty meters down, take a left,” Sojin instructs.

“Uniform,” Hyukjae says, voice panicked for the first time, and shies backward just as two Alliance members in blue combat uniforms round the corner. “She can’t see them!”

“Sojin,” Victoria says into her comm as they dart down a random hallway, “Hyukjae thinks they’re blocking their signatures. Just get us to whichever dock you’re flying toward.”

“No,” Hyukjae gasps as they lead him down another hallway, but they don’t have any other options. There’s another – a uniform –

“Donghae!”

The shout reaches his ears just a fraction of a second before the gunfire booms. For a long moment, Donghae is confused – more gunfire follows, but louder still, coming from the weapons of his own crew – and then the burn starts.

Victoria’s voice comes hot in his ear. “Gotta run! Sorry, sorry, we got to run before the shock wears off!”

He trips along after them, slowly becoming aware that every step is agony – he brings shaking fingers to his side and they come away hot. He doesn’t look.

He’s barely conscious of anything except the movement of his own body until it’s abruptly spun to a halt, Hyukjae’s face appearing like the crash of cool water. But he looks so pained that Donghae wonders for a moment if he’s been shot, too.

Been shot. That’s a new one.

“Hyuk –”

“Fine, I’m okay.”

The room they’re in is empty, but Donghae spots a door to the left – blast door, most likely leading to an unloading dock.

“Hyukjae, care to explain why you led us into a gorram ambush?” Youngwoon hisses.

Hyukjae doesn’t even acknowledge that Youngwoon spoke. His face is still twisted up in pain, and Donghae wants to tell him to leave, to remove himself from this, but there’s no place to go.

“Calm down, that’s not helping any. Donghae, you have to tell me how bad it is.”

He gapes at Victoria, the burn searing to what seems like every nerve in his body.

“He’s standing, ain’t he?”

“Youngwoon, he can’t just walk off a shot to the belly!”

“”S not there, It’s over… over…”

Youngwoon slams his fist down on the console and the door slides shut, hopefully locking itself. They manage to drag Donghae over to the wall and he leans against it gratefully, still hissing air out through his teeth what seems like more than he’s breathing it.

“Docking”, comes Sunny’s voice now through the communicator. “How many on your tail?”

“Sun, we ain’t lookin’ too hot. Wait for the all clear, bring a gurney if you can. Donghae’s been shot.”

Donghae tunes out the rest of the conversation, lowering his eyes to his feet and focusing on breathing. An echoing sound comes from behind the locked blast door. Youngwoon says, “They’re going to get through, we don’t have time to wait.”

Hyukjae, when he speaks, sounds calmer than Donghae would have imagined, given the situation. “You two should leave.” He hears something like resignation in his voice.

“We’re not leaving you here like this, are you crazy?”

“Can you trust me?”

“It’s not about trust, it’s about you losin’ your mind! If you stay here, it’s suicide.”

“Please, please leave. Bring someone back here.”

“Hyukjae –”

“Kuài zǒu kāi!”

It’s not that bad, Donghae is telling himself. It’s fine. It won’t stop bleeding but it’s fine, he’s had – no, he ain’t had worse. He glances up wildly, sees Hyukjae at the console, and it’s getting too hard to put weight on his right side. He slides himself carefully down the wall and still winds up with his head swimming.

The burn hasn’t faded. He needs to get up, has to help  - Hyukjae’s hands are on him, steadying him, fingers hovering over the hand Donghae has pressed to the wound. “Donghae, remember. Ce ne sont pas mes oignons. Remember?” Donghae nods weakly. Hyukjae had taught him the words patiently, one at a time, correcting his pronunciation; he doesn’t know what it means, but the words are familiar on his tongue. Hyukjae, laughing as he covers Donghae’s mouth to prevent Donghae from saying the whole phrase at once; Hyukjae pressed up behind him in the galley, making him recite the words through a haze of sleep; Hyukjae refusing to explain why the foreign words are so important to learn.

He pushes his forehead against Donghae’s, blurry in his vision, eyes falling shut. “And remember that I love you.”

Fear grips him, but Hyukjae has moved away too quickly for him to react.  The doorway is rising slowly, one man in an Alliance uniform coming into view behind it. He’s speaking furiously into his comm, and as Donghae watches, Hyukjae grabs the wrist, drawing the man forward smoothly. Then there are more footsteps, more men, and Hyukjae disables them all, one by one.

He moves with a precise fluidity that makes no sense to Donghae’s eyes. If he doesn’t think about what’s happening, doesn’t focus on the stillness of the bodies or the glint of flashing knives, then it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It’s like the ‘Verse, like math and beauty all at once, huge and terrible. Hyukjae doesn’t pause even for a second. It’s like he knows where each man will be before they’ve even made the decision to move.

For whatever reason – fear or horror – Victoria and Youngwoon return then. When Donghae swings his eyes away from the distraction, Hyukjae is grappling with a familiar-looking man, out of uniform. The bounty hunter.

“Don’t!” he calls to the others, but his friends don’t understand the danger. Hyukjae notices them, zeroes in on them; three enemies now, instead of one. Panic flares up, adrenaline rushing into Donghae’s head and he gathers as much air as possible around the burning pain in his side to shout the words. “Ce ne sont pas mes oignons!”

And like a bird from the sky, Hyukjae falls.

-

 

He doesn’t know more after the pain takes over. The first thing he becomes aware of is the sound of Haru’s engines. There’s a bright light invading his eyelids, making it harder to keep them shut. He’s in the med bay. Well, Donghae thinks just as his body decides to remind him that yes, it’s in working order, but no, it’s not happy about it – at least he’s alive.

He turns his head, groggy with painkillers, and sees Sojin reading a book. He waves hello, and her face splits into a grin.

“He’s awake,” she says into the intercom.

It only takes about thirty seconds for Victoria and Youngwoon to appear in the doorway, followed by Sunny, who kisses him on the cheek, and Minah, with a muttered “Mornin’, Captain.”

“Hyukjae?” Donghae asks, mouth like cotton.

“He’s fine, he’s asleep,” Sojin assures him hurriedly.

“Still?”

“No, he – he was easy to wake. Little addled in the head, and I say that lovingly,” Victoria tells him.

“Addled? He was terrifying.” Youngwoon’s voice is a little awed. Donghae is far too dizzy right now to make sense of him.

“Don’t listen to them, he’s fine now. I could go get him for you,” Sunny suggests, but Donghae shakes his head.

“Let him be.” He stretches his shoulders, reaching down to feel the bandage at his side. “Who stitched me up?”

“That would be me,” Victoria says with a grin. “And you’re damn lucky the bullet didn’t hit any organs, or you’d be dead. Sorry, Hae, I ain’t that good.”

“Okay,” he sits up, breathing through it. Doesn’t hurt as bad as he expected. “So. Someone please tell me why we’re not on Alliance prison ships right now?”

They all start talking at once.

“Děng yī xià, one at a time!” Donghae laughs, and okay, that hurts.

“We’re dead,” Youngwoon says, grinning wide.

“What?”

“You should have seen it, Hae,” Victoria says. “The fear in that man’s eye. Nothin’ better. Hyukjae ordered him to make us all look dead in the eyes of the Alliance. Ordered him.”

Minah, who seems to be the only one capable of making any damn sense, takes one of Donghae’s hands to get his attention and smiles. “We reconfigured one of the NAVSAT drones that Heechul gave us to Haru’s old signature. Then that bounty hunter got in his little ship, sent it out into the black, and destroyed it. Told the nearest gunboat officer we’d been killed.”

Donghae’s jaw has fallen open. He forces it shut. “They’ll take his word?”

“Seems like it.”

“But there’s no junk! No wreckage!”

“Alliance don’t want to worry themselves too much, honey,” Victoria says. “They’ve got bigger fish to fry, or so it seems. We better lie low a bit, just in case, but Hyukjae ain’t no good to ‘em dead.”

“I missed all the fun,” Donghae whines, flopping back onto the bed. He winces heavily, hissing through his teeth.

“You can have fun next time. We’re on the other side of the law now, my friend.”

They relay to him as many details as they can, until Donghae has to it up and ask for more painkillers. ‘Course this makes everyone decide he needs more sleep, which ain’t exactly a lie, but he frowns when they all file out to leave him in peace. Maybe when he wakes up again, he’ll be able to process all this.

-

 

It’s dark the next time he wakes, and when he tries to stretch his legs down, he can’t. He’s confused about this for a second, but then the weight on top of him shifts, warm lips beneath his jaw and hair tickling at his forehead.

“Hey,” he breathes, and Hyukjae’s kiss shifts to his mouth, a soft hello.

“Wake up,” Hyukjae replies, returning again to Donghae’s lips. “You slept for so long.”

“No, that was you,” Donghae says between kisses, slow like sleep-breathing. Finally he opens his eyes when Hyukjae sits up.

“Yeah,” he says. “Crazy, huh? The things a body can be conditioned to do.”

“I like bodies.” Donghae grins, curving a hand around Hyukjae’s flank. The action pulls at the wound on his side, the sore muscles protesting. He cringes. “Maybe not so much my body right now, though.”

Hyukjae snickers, eyes crinkling in amusement, and leans forward to press a pointed kiss to Donghae’s forehead. That pretty much sets the tone for the nature of their physical relationship until the wound fully heals. The ache in his side draws Donghae’s memory back to yesterday, and he studies the angles of Hyukjae’s face soberly.

“You said you love me,” he murmurs, drawing the backs of his fingers along Hyukjae’s jaw.

He hums quietly. “You don’t know how precious it is to recognize your own thoughts. There’s no reason to keep it hidden. It’s mine, my love. For you.” Suddenly Hyukjae frowns, sitting up. “I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

“When I led us there, I knew he would be waiting. I didn’t know you would get shot. Sorry.”

Donghae almost laughs at that. “We couldn’t keep running forever,” he concedes.

Hyukjae nods, eyes losing their focus for a moment.

“Hyuk,” Donghae says seriously. “I think we need to have a talk.”

-

 

They’re on the bridge, just the two of them and the quiet background hum of space, when Hyukjae tells him about the Academy. They’re in opposite seats, Hyukjae’s limbs all folded comfortably in the chair, and he speaks with his eyes fixed out the window. Donghae makes himself stay put, listening quietly.

Hyukjae tells him about feeling so small on Sihnon and smaller still in the grand scheme of the ‘Verse; how he wanted to be someone his family would be proud of. The Academy – he says the words like they’re shining, like the promise the Alliance had offered him all those years ago is still unmarred by the reality of it. They wanted him, he says. It took him a week to realize it was a mistake. Took him two before he believed it would not be dishonorable if he went home. Two weeks and one day to realize that he would never see his family again.

It’s not surprising to learn about the Alliance’s cruel underbelly, its true form. Not while the images of the last message from Miranda still play behind the eyes of everyone in the ‘Verse, a shared nightmare corrupting the gleaming white sheen of the Core planets. But Donghae had never wanted to come close to the evidence. He feels sorry for it now, aware of his privilege of anonymity. He’s sorry for pushing the idea out of his head every time he had looked at Hyukjae, joked with him, laughed with him, pressed his mouth to his skin. Hyukjae can’t erase what happened to him.

And so Donghae listens. He takes in every word and doesn’t shy away from the pain of them, not even when his vision is blurred by tears. Hyukjae’s voice this day, soft and even, soaked into Haru’s skin, will never quite leave him.

-

“What do you think. Back to Ariel?”

Donghae shrugs, pulling his bowl towards him as he sits down. It took him a while to get from living quarters to the galley this morning, but it still feels damn good to be able to sit down with his crew and not worry about what’s chasing their tail.

Hyukjae comes in a moment later, sitting close to Donghae on the bench. He leans further into his space and Donghae is distracted by the warm press of his thigh, so doesn’t notice when Hyukjae plucks some of his breakfast right out of his bowl.

“Hey! Get your own.”

Hyukjae just grins at him. “Good morning to you too, Captain.”

“Yeah, I’ll show you Captain.”

“Is that a threat, or a promise?”

“Please,” Victoria says from the other side of the table, folding her arms over her head. “Spare us.”

“You know,” Sojin says between bites of her own meal, “I think I actually missed this.”

“Your brain’s addled,” Youngwoon grumps.

In the meanwhile, Hyukjae pats Donghae’s thigh and pushes away from the table, actually going to get his own bowl. Donghae watches him, chewing carefully. His chest feels a little tight, and it has nothing at all to do with the bandage across his side.

“So,” Sunny prompts, picking up the earlier thread of conversation, “Ariel? Or do we go hide out with Vic’s family for a while?”

“Dunno,” Donghae says. “Are we all aware –yeah, we all know we ain’t gonna have an easy time finding work now. We should at least steer clear of the Core for a while.”

They begin throwing out suggestions, some of them moons Donghae’s never even heard of, let alone have any idea what they’d find there. He lets the conversation continue around him, distractedly watching Hyukjae as he pays a singular attention to his food. His face is still puffy with sleep. Donghae isn’t the only one who will need a bit of physical recovery from this.

“Wherever we go, it needs to be relaxing somehow. Rejuvinating. I think we all deserve it, ‘least for a little while.”

“Ooh!” Hyukjae half-rises from across the table, the dishware clattering with the disturbance. His gaze is bright when they land on Donghae’s face, a playful smile tugging at the excited o of his mouth. “Where is it raining?”

Donghae’s face splits into a grin. From the other end of the table, he can hear Sojin saying “Rain? Why rain? Why not sunshine? Blue skies!” but he’s hardly paying attention. Hyukjae’s mood is infectious.

Purposefully, he lets his mind wander back home, back to Renao, watching storms gather and cloud over his view of the night sky. Still, he could name every star, every planet, every part of the ‘Verse he could see, winking through as clouds passed by. All he’d wanted then was to touch them. All he wants now, flying through the black, is the rain.

“… Do they realize they’re staring?”

Donghae shakes himself out of the memory. Hyukjae blinks rapidly as if clearing his vision, waiting for reality to come back into focus, still with that same soft smile.

“Sunny, you up for flying through a storm?”

“Up for whatever you’ve got, Captain,” she chirps.

Hyukjae straightens up. He needs a haircut, dark hair falling into his eyes. Maybe even a new photo for his IdentCard. No more runnin’.

“Then let’s go find one.”

 

-

 

 

see you, space cowboy