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143horny-core · 15 days

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We're getting straight into it! I got nothing to brief let's gooo!!!!

"And suddenly, it's 16 years earlier."

That is the smoothest transition I've ever read-

"He didn't even have a headstone...but he wanted her to have this."

Oh no...oh gosh no I'm gonna start crying aren't I?

"Another shovelful hits the grass...he will survive anything."

Noo oh my god😭 I was already in my feels and now this??? May whyyyy, oh poor Minho😭

"He picks up the shovel again."

That is always something that will get me. When a character I get attached to has a backstory as painful as this? Idc how cliche some think this type of backstory is, it's heart wrenching and will make me sob everytime.

"He hadn't realized just hoe much he'd missed his friends these last few months"

Oh my already aching heart😭😭😭

"Because Jisung is right behind her...The fall, to act innocent"

Minho baby please what do you want him to do???😭😭😭 Get on his knees and beg to be thrown off the ship??? But- I kinda get it😅 ugh this whole thing is so messy, if only you all knew how to use words😮‍💨😔

"Only when they're almost all the way out of town does he realize his fists are clenched."

I can't fully remember who knows Minho's past or not but the main crew know right? Chan, Hyun, Lix, Bin, Minnie, Innie and the Captain all know right?🥲 excuse my trash ass memory

"Despite the heat of the day, there's smoke bellowing out of the chimney."

You do SUCH a great job at describing the scenery. It's SO EASY for me to visualize it and put myself even more into the scene. Like a little invisible ghost watching everything unfold in front of, and around me!💜

"There's something penetrating in her gaze...and the captain laughs nervously."

Oh...ooo she's mysterious, I like it✨ can't wait to find out more~

"He smothers the flicker brutally"

It's for the plot Cubbs. It's for the plot Cubbs. It's for the plot Cubbs. They'll acknowledge the love soon, they will, so don't worry- don't worry... *tears of frustration continue*

"Clairvoyant?"

OH THAT MAKES SENSE!!! I LOVE THAT!!! It's so perfect wth!!!

"His heart wants to say yes"

Minho's POV is absolutely killing me inside. His yearning is penetrating my heart like a thousand needles SAVE HIM TO SAVE MEEEEEEEE😭😭

"Jisung wearing his heart on his sleeve drives him fucking crazy. It would get him killed one day."

In that sense, Sung and I are similar😅 maybe a little similar to Minho as well. You learn to put up and strengthen your walls after some time whether by force or not but, you can't truly destroy the roots engrained so deeply into you. I'm always gonna be someone who wears my heart on my sleeve unfortunately. That's just how I love. Oof anyways-

“Well, an enemy of Han Yujun’s, whatever shape he may take, is a friend of ours. Welcome, you two.”

YEAH FUCK THAT GUY!!! WOOOOO

"Minho wants to shove Han Jisung into the ocean."

Can't wait to read this exact same thing in a few chapters but instead it's something like "He burns the image of them into his mind, they're so beautiful together" 😂😭

"Scratch that. Minho wants to drown Han Jisung with his bare fucking hands."

You wanna see them kiss and groan and whine. The gaslighting he does to himself is impressive.

"Wiped out their confidants, their secretaries, anyone who could take up their mantle."

Revenge is always such a tricky subject for humans. Sometimes it's okay sometimes it's not. It always depends on perspective and what exactly drives a person to want that revenge. This is fiction and I say, fuck them. Glad he killed them all.

"Didn't see any point in anyone else as long as she..."

He loves her so much....

"Jisung scoffs, and sends her a glare, the first unkind thing he’s done in this house so far, and it strikes Minho how unusual it feels."

Jisung can be ruthless too Min. Oh I can't wait to see Jisung pop off even more if he gets the chance too. Mean/ruthless Jisung is hot and I'm not sorry for thinking that. It's smoking hot. He's smoking hot. Smoke me out- okay I'll shut up now.

“When you get him? Make it painful.”

You fucking bet we will eldest Hwang!!! That man is going to suffer.

"The roar that goes through the room is deafening...You surrender to it."

What the FUCK is wrong with my playlist bro JUST WHY was "Seungmin's Phobia" chorus BLASTING while I was reading this part??? WHAT'S THE NEED??? I'M SO GIDDY AND SMILING SO WIDE MY CHEEKS HURT BUT THERE'S ALSO TEARS IN MY EYES AAAAHHHH!!!

"You remember Ryujin’s words in the kitchen earlier...You don’t have to worry. Just let it happen."

OH THANK YOU RYUJIN!!!! I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!!!

May you don't understand, when I tell you I was having a freaking MELTDOWN reading that ending😭 I was getting so giddy and there was so much excitement but anxiousness swirling around in my chest.

I ended up spending 6 songs reading it because I was so afraid to continue I just starting singing and dancing to the music😭😭😭 But I convinced myself to finish and with every word a part of me died and a new piece was brought to life because FUCKING FINALLY!!!! Yeah they're drunk as hell right now BUT my god is it progress!!! CAUSE NOW IT'S BEEN SAID!!! SPOKEN INTO THE OPEN!!! INTO THEIR EARS!!! Now all that's left is for them to sober up and ACTUALLY have a fucking conversation 😭😭😭

We aren't gonna unpack the irl emotions this brought out of me or the aching lonliness I felt having to freak out all by myself over this masterpiece lol I'm so excited to get to the next chapter!!!

🌊 ೃ‧₊◜ sea may rise, sky may fall chapter VII

pairing: lee know x f!reader x han jisung

summary: will the code be cracked? will the captain, jisung, and minho finally crack, too?

word count: 7.7k

warnings: mentions of parent death; mentions of murder; ptsd flashback? very mild, tough; probably ooc ryunjin and yeji cameos; drinking

author's note: wheeee this one has lotsa plot (something still so new for me and this chapter felt like a huge turning point in my writing but I hope you like itttt) but also some other developments 👀 and some more minho backstory. enjoy!!!!!! ily all!!

this series is 🔞, so minors, please DNI

series masterlist // skzms masterlist

< chapter VI - chapter VIII >

Minho thinks he can smell the stink of Nassau as soon as the ship rounds the sandbanks and palm trees of Hogg Island and enters the channel. It’s unlikely, he knows, but something about the familiar view of the tree-strewn main island, the church bells ringing across the water, of the squat houses along the coast, the call of the herring gulls overhead.

He forces himself to stand on the quarterdeck next to the captain, behind Seungmin, who navigates past the sandbank and into the wide harbour. When they get closer, Jeongin pokes his head out from the lookout.

“They are signalling for us to anchor at the quay!” he yells, surprise evident in his voice.

Hyunjin scoffs further down the deck, leans against the railing next to Chan.

“They know we’re about to make their traders half a year’s worth of money.”

The captain shrugs, a small, but pleased smile on her lips.

“Dock at the quay then, Seungmin,” she orders, and Seungmin nods.

Twenty minutes later, Minho’s boot hits the slippery wood of the Nassau quay – and now he’s really smelling it, the distinct mix of brackish water and heat-spoiled rum. A laughing gull starts its maniacal cackle on a pole sticking out of the water right next to him and suddenly, it’s 16 years earlier.

12-year-old Minho, tears running down his cheeks, mixing with the rainwater that was slowly, ruthlessly soaking him to the bone as he heaved shovelfuls and shovelfuls of wet, heavy mud out of the cemetery plot he had begged the vicar to let him have. He didn’t even have a headstone, only a cross he had nailed together out of one of their chairs and carved her name into, but he wanted her to have this. A resting place to call her own. The vicar had had pity on him, and had probably seen her at his services often enough. That, or he knew that Minho didn’t have anyone else to ask money from. He was alone in the world now.

Another shovelful hits the grass next to the hole he’s digging, and he sobs, his lithe arms shaking and his heart a dead thing in his chest, his mother’s voice still in his ears, telling him that he will be okay, that he can do anything he sets his mind to. That he’s her son, and that that alone means he will survive anything.

She didn’t, though. She was dead. He had found her, in her room. And now he was burying her. Or trying to.

He hears the laughing gull when the shovel slips out of his hands the first time. Intoning its mocking laughter, as the mud cakes into Minho’s wounds, stings so bad it drives more tears from his eyes. Only a few more feet to go, he tells himself; tells himself his mother is watching, has her warm, soft hand on his shoulder as he digs. He owes her this. The cold, gold cross is stuck to his chest. The laughing gull cackles. He picks up the shovel again.

“Minho?”

Hyunjin’s hand finds his shoulder and squeezes. His voice cuts through the fog in Minho’s head and suddenly the air is warm, the sun is burning down on him, his mother has been dead and buried for 16 years and he survived.

“Hmm?” is the only answer he can muster, along with a grimace of a smile. Judging by the look on Hyunjin’s face, he is not fooling anyone.

“Take a deep breath for me?” Hyunjin suggests softly and Minho does, focuses on the sun, the sound of the water lapping against the ship, on Hyunjin behind him and takes a shaky breath in and out. Hyunjin massages his shoulders gently, hums encouragingly.

“There you go,” he mumbles, rounding Minho so he can look at him. His eyes are big and full of worry. “Better?”

Minho blinks at him, nods, something tiny and needy raising its head in his heart; he hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed his friends these last few months.

“Thanks,” he breathes out, but Hyunjin just smiles, shakes his head. Minho returns his smile, and it’s shaky, but apparently more convincing because Hyunjin pats his shoulder one more time before he steps back.

“Will you be okay? I need to go see about rations, but do you want me to get Changbin?” Minho shakes his head.

“’Captain and I are about to go see the code person now.”

Hyunjin nods, gives Minho’s shoulder one more solid squeeze before he turns and walks off and into town. The laughing gull has long since flown off, only the herring gulls crying above him as he waits.

But when the captain climbs down from the ship, any and all warmth Hyunjin left behind vanishes. Because Jisung is right behind her.

Minho’s shoulders tense almost immediately. Jisung fixes him with a shy look that is entirely too infuriating for Minho to handle. The gall, to act innocent …

“Minho, you ready?” the captain asks, quirking her eyebrow and giving him a glare that Minho doesn’t need so much as a second thought to interpret as be nice or else. He can be nice, he thinks. Though it seems that’s more Jisung’s forte. Being overly nice and worming his way into business that isn’t his.

His nod to the captain is terse, but she accepts it, motions for them to follow her down the quay and into the small town. He doesn’t spare Jisung another glance, his eyes stubbornly ahead or on the captain as she takes them down a lane to the right that leads straight out of the small town.

Minho doesn’t look left when they pass the street he knows leads to the old church with the little churchyard that he hasn’t been to in 16 years, though its presence burns a hole into his heart. Only when they’re almost all the way out of town does he realise his fists are clenched.

They walk in complete silence for a while, Minho’s scowl enough to intimidate Jisung and make the captain not want to deal with him. He doesn’t fight it. They walk and Minho notices, with considerable relief, how the stench of Nassau fades as they walk down the long dirt road. It’s almost serene out here, with the sea glimmering on one side, huts scattered along the road on the other, closely bordered by thick woodland. There are more birds out here, apart from gulls. A swallow flits from tree to another with a vibrant twitter, a heron stalks through the marshy water of a little inlet.

When they’ve gone a decent way out of town, the captain finally comes to a halt in front of one of the scattered huts. It’s a relatively large one, two-stories of wood with the paint chipping off, surrounded by an overgrown garden and bordered by a rotting, hand-built fence that looks like it’s seen better days. There are countless pots of all shapes and sizes lined up along the side of the house, bushels of herbs and other exotic plants Minho doesn’t recognise thriving towards the sun. The whole garden is unkempt, the native plants, taking advantage of their native soil, battling some more exotic plants that have clearly been planted with purpose. Nobody seems to bother to mediate this fight. Despite the heat of the day, there’s smoke billowing out of the chimney.

“Let’s hope they can help us,” the captain murmurs, and pushes open the rickety gate. Minho follows her first, leaving Jisung behind him, following right behind her as she walks up to the front door of the hut and knocks confidently.

There’s a commotion from the inside, and the door opens just a crack before it’s ripped open entirely. All Minho sees is a flurry of wispy black hair before two arms with countless golden bangles and bracelets wrap around the captain’s shoulders with a deafening jingle, pulling her into a crushing hug that almost sweeps her off her feet. The captain breathes out a yelp and a giggle, bubbly and light and entirely unfamiliar.

The blur of wispy hair and golden bangles pulls back, and Minho sees it’s a young woman, around the captain’s age, with a boyish face, sparkly eyes and a gigantic, warm smile on her face. She takes the captain by the shoulders and shakes her gently.

“You haven’t come to visit in three years, Y/Nie!” she exclaims, but it’s clear she’s just teasing. There’s no hiding the excitement in her voice.

The captain giggles again, and Minho swears it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever heard.

“I’m sorry, Ryu,” she says, squeezes the other woman’s arms back, “I’m a little busy these days.”

“Of course, captain,” the woman laughs, and winks. Then her gaze finally sweeps past her old friend and lands on Minho and Jisung, her face falling, an unfocused confusion in her eyes as she looks between them, and then the captain a few times. There’s something penetrating in her gaze, like she’s seeing much more than he wants her to, and it unsettles him, makes anxiety prickle all over his body. Ryujin blinks at the captain, and the captain laughs nervously.

“Sorry, how rude of me. This is Minho, my second-in-command, and this is Jisung, he just joined us recently.”

Minho bows tensely, trying not to squirm away from the strange woman’s stare. Jisung next to him is a fidgeting mess, blushing as he bows. The captain turns to them.

“And this, this is Ryujin. She’s one of my oldest friends, along with … is Yeji here? We kinda need her help.”

Ryujin nods, and turns around, waving for the three of them to follow her.

As soon as Minho steps over the threshold, it’s like he steps into a furnace. There’s a fire burning in the fireplace, something bitter and herbal smelling brewing in a pot, and it fills the entire room with an excruciatingly moist heat and an overwhelming aroma. Sweat starts beading on his forehead almost immediately. Next to him, Jisung stumbles over a stack of books and Minho glares at him. Jisung blushes.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and Minho rolls his eyes.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you so nervous?”

Jisung shrugs, his bottom lip jutting out.

“I dunno, I just … I get nervous around new people, okay?” Minho rolls his eyes again, but he feels a flicker of warmth deep in his chest as he watches Jisung, his eyes big and sparkling in the low light of the fireplace, ringed fingers twisting around each other. He smothers the flicker brutally.

“Baby, is that really Y/Nie or am I hearing things,” a female voice calls from upstairs and as soon as Ryujin calls up an affirmative, a woman with cat-like features and fire-red hair comes barreling down the stairs, squealing as she runs towards the captain, who catches her effortlessly, twirls her around.

“I can’t believe it took you so long to come visit,” the woman, Yeji, Minho assumes, breathes into the captain’s hair before she pulls back, holding her at arm’s length so she can look her over. Then she gives the captain a playful glare.

“I wrote?” The captain offers, sheepishly, and Yeji rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her lips.

“Don’t even believe for a second that we didn’t hear about it every time you were in Nassau and didn’t make your way out here.”

The captain’s face falls, an unfamiliar shadow of uncertainty and embarrassment in her eyes. In another world, Minho has the ability to reach out, wipe the sadness from her beautiful face. In this one, he just watches, his face schooled into a cool neutrality. Jisung next to him fidgets with a ring.

“I … I couldn’t …” she starts, but trails off, dropping her gaze to the floor, “I never had the time, either we didn’t stay long enough or I couldn’t get away from the ship. I promise, I …”

Yeji shuts her up by pulling her into another hug.

“Don’t worry, I’m just teasing you. All that matters is that you’re here now. Why don’t we take a look at whatever that is in your bag. But before that …”

She turns to Minho and Jisung, sending them a bright smile. Minho likes her better, she doesn’t give him the creeps.

“My name’s Yeji, I’m Ryujin’s wife. Half of our love story wouldn’t have been possible without Y/N actually, so we’re always happy to see her.

“Hardly,” the captain interjects, “you only talked a stranger’s ear off about this really cute clairvoyant girl you wanted to go see until said stranger took pity on you and went with you.”

Clairvoyant? That would explain why she’s so creepy.

Yeji sticks her tongue at the captain. Minho tries to imagine a younger captain, her expression less schooled, her gait less confident, her hair maybe longer, her eyes brighter, in a bar, all by herself. He wonders if he would remember if he met her then. Wonders if he would’ve had the courage to go up to her, to strike up a conversation. Wonders if they would’ve even gotten along. His heart wants to say yes.

“Well, if you hadn’t been there that night, I would’ve never gotten the courage to go see her. And then we wouldn’t have exchanged names, and we wouldn’t be here today. But enough about us,” she laughs, and turns back to the two men, “you are?”

Minho bows, tries to smile at Yeji, but it’s hard. He’s not good at this.

“Lee Minho, the captain’s second-in-command.”

Yeji greets him, a gentle smile on her lips, before she turns to Jisung. Jisung’s face is flushed, whether because of the frankly ridiculous heat in the room or because he’s still nervous, Minho doesn’t know. He bows, too, but when he rises, he sends Yeji such a disarming, crooked smile that Minho gets annoyed. Of course, he would make a better first impression.

“H- Jisung, my name’s Jisung, I joined the captain’s crew recently.”

Ryujin suddenly gasps.

“Oh, that’s interesting!”

Minho can’t help the scowl on his face when he looks over at her. Yeji turns around, but the captain intercepts the situation.

“Jisung is Han Yujun’s nephew. We found him on one of his uncle’s ships, and he wanted to join us.”

Yeji’s eyes narrow. She lets her eyes drag up and down Jisung’s form.

Jisung straightens up, his nervous hands twisting together in front of him. One of his knuckles cracks and Minho wants to reach out, still those cursed, restless hands. Jisung wearing his heart on his sleeve drives him fucking crazy. It would get him killed one day.

“They saved me, really,” Jisung offers with a much weaker smile now, “my uncle has always hated me, tried to get me killed on foolhardy missions. And I hate him, for what he did to me, for what he does to everyone else under his governance. I want him gone.”

Yeji throws a glance at Ryujin, waits until the latter has stared at Jisung for another few seconds and gives some kind of nod of approval. Once she does, Yeji relaxes.

“Well, an enemy of Han Yujun’s, whatever shape he may take, is a friend of ours. Welcome, you two.”

“That’s actually what we need your help with, Yeji,” the captain begins. Carefully, she pulls the two maps from her satchel, walks over to the table in the middle of what most likely is meant to be the dining room, but is really only another densely packed living room, and unrolls them.

“These are maps we intercepted on Han Yujun’s ships. One on the one Jisung was on, another on one that attacked us a few weeks later. At first, we thought they were maps, but geographically, they make … no sense. So we figured, they’re …”

“A code,” Yeji breathes out, her eyes fixed on the maps as if she’s magnetised to them. She takes them from the captain’s hands, and arranges them on the table, pulling a piece of paper and a pen from a drawer.

“Exactly,” the captain breathes out. She watches Yeji carefully, throws a glance to Ryujin, whose eyes are impassive, “and with how intricate the maps are, how carefully drawn, the fact that the edges are gilded – it all speaks to the fact that Han Yujun was trying to impress someone.”

Yeji runs a finger over the tangled up shapes around the edge of the map, scribbles something down.

“If you can even just help us find out who that is, we would already get us further than we have in years. But if we can find out what these messages say, there’s no telling what we might be able to do.”

Minho can hear it, the tremor in the captain’s voice. Ever since he can remember, all the petty criminals they fought, the crews of wayward pirates who went against the code, who violated everything humanity stood for, the end goal had always been Han Yujun, the man who had ruined more lives than they could count.

“Gilded edges,” Ryujin mumbles, and shakes her head.

Jisung steps up to the table, though he still looks nervous, half his body hiding behind the captain’s.

“My uncle always tried to impress the other governors of these islands,” Jisung says, a hand running through his shaggy hair restlessly. When the captain turns to him, his ears tint pink, “throwing lavish dinners he couldn’t afford, forcing himself into jewelled waistcoats that he barely managed to button up. It was pitiful, most of the other governors hated his guts.”

Ryujin frowns, but chuckles drily.

“Not like they’re any better.”

Jisung shrugs.

“Some of them were better than others, but none of them were worse than my uncle. Most of them caught onto him pretty fast, only visited once, twice at most, before it dawned on them what a piece of shit he was. Avoided him like the plague afterwards, …”

Ryujin hums. There’s a faraway look in Jisung’s eyes, and he buries his fists in his pockets. The captain slides a comforting arm around Jisung’s shoulders, gives him a little squeeze. Jisung leans into the touch, gives her a shy smile, bats his eyelashes at her. Minho wants to shove Han Jisung into the ocean.

“Well, sounds like we’d be doing more people a favour by putting your uncle behind bars,” the captain jokes and Jisung laughs. There’s a familiarity between them that makes Minho’s stomach churn.

“You’d be doing everyone a favour,” Jisung sighs, and rolls his eyes, his head tipping in her direction just enough that he can blink at her cheekily, making the captain breathe out a light little laugh that Jisung drinks in greedily.

Scratch that. Minho wants to drown Han Jisung with his bare fucking hands.

But he stays where he is, aching, wanting to be anywhere but here and yet nowhere else but by her side. Nausea rises in his throat. If only it wasn’t so fucking hot in this room, he thinks, as a bead of sweat drips down his neck.

Yeji is still scowling at the paper, scribbling furiously, and Ryujin sighs.

“She’ll be busy with that for a while, why don’t you help me make some tea, Y/N?”

The captain nods, throws Minho a glance that he hopes he returns with some semblance of normalcy, though there’s no telling any more, and follows Ryujin into another room.

“I’ll wait outside,” Minho announces into the silence as soon as she’s gone. His voice sounds odd and out of place in the room, and he turns around before he is forced to reckon with an answer.

Minho knows that the air outside is technically hot, humid, and hot, but compared to the sweltering heat of the little hut, the breeze blowing over his sweaty neck actually makes him shiver. Letting his eyes rove over the small garden, he spots a small metal bench, tucked into a little spot against a hedge that borders the rickety fence. He takes a few steps towards it, eyes it carefully to make sure it can actually hold him. But it looks sturdy enough. He sinks down, and he lets his head fall into his hands. He takes a deep breath. It comes out shaky.

He hates being back here. He fucking hates Nassau with all his heart. For everything it did to him, everything it took from him. He hates even more who he becomes when he’s here, all jittery and quick to anger, his heart like an open wound in his chest. He feels strung out, bared to the elements, to anyone who looks to close. He doesn’t want them to, doesn’t know what he’ll do if they do.

His mother never liked it either. She would tell him all about it, all those nights they spent huddled together on the dilapidated porch of their home – tell him how any day now she would finally have enough money to hitch them a ride on a ship to go … somewhere else. She always said it was going to be a surprise, but adult Minho knows better – she never had a plan, her only urge was to just get as far away from Nassau as possible.

Away from her history, away from the little churchyard where her parents lay buried, and where she would be buried not long after, away from the creditors, away from the pimp who, as Minho found out many years later, blackmailed her into staying with him by threatening to expose who Minho’s father was.

Minho took care of them all, one by one, over the years. Found the men who had driven his mother onto the path that would eventually lead to her death. He made sure they knew why he was killing them before he did. He made it painful, he made it cruel. Wiped out their confidants, their secretaries, anyone who could take up their mantle.

In retrospect, he knows that something wasn’t right with him back then. But when it was done, when every last one of them was taken care of and Minho finally knew he did all he could, he felt free. Black and dead, but free. And still so lonely it took his breath away sometimes.

He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars, feels pinpricks of pain in his eyeballs. He hears the door of the hut open, the thud of boots coming down the path, then stop. When he looks up, he makes eye contact with Han Jisung. Minho sighs.

“There’s really no escaping you, huh,” he mumbles, more to himself than to Jisung, but he can’t help but notice how Jisung’s face falls, before he sets his eyebrows, tosses his head and walks over to Minho.

Minho watches him calmly as he approaches and sits down next to him, the little metal bench squeaking under the extra weight.

Somewhere in the distance, a gull cackles. Minho’s knuckle cracks where he squeezes his hand into a fist.

“I mean … It was really awkward in there, yes, but I actually, …” Jisung starts, stares at Minho before he blinks, and averts his eyes, gaze falling to his hands that are folded in his lap. He starts fiddling with his rings again. Minho squeezes his fist tighter. His knuckles crack again.

“I actually wanted to apologise,” Jisung finally says, and Minho’s thoughts grind to a screeching halt. He blinks at Jisung, who’s still not looking at him.

“I wanted to apologise for … for kissing you.”

The last words come out in barely more than a whisper. He chuckles awkwardly. He twists one ring so hard is hand slips.

“I mean, if I’m honest, it kinda rocked my world, but I’m still sorry. I shouldn’t have just … done that. Not after saying what I did. Which I’m also sorry for, by the way. I was talking to Chan, and … let’s just say I know now that you wouldn’t have called me by my abuser’s nickname if you’d known. Not you.”

Minho’s still frozen in place, his heart thundering in his chest. He wants to say many things. Wants to ask what on earth he meant when he said it rocked his world. Wants to ask what Chan told him, why they were talking about him. In the end, he settles for none of that.

“I’m not the most observant,” he mumbles and Jisung chuckles. It’s a light little thing, as light as the breeze that makes more goosebumps shiver down Minho’s spine.

“I mean, you are,” Jisung hums, looks up at Minho and smiles. Minho barely dares to breathe. “It just depends on who you’re watching. I know one person you look at more than anyone else.”

Something painful curls in Minho’s guts. The memory of Jisung’s skin, of his lips, of how he had run back to her, thrown himself into her body, trying to make it up to her, trying to forget the guilt – but most of all trying to forget the fact that there was no reason to feel guilty because she wasn’t his, he wasn’t hers, she, for all he knew, could’ve done lord knows what with lord knows who, and he may have never known. Even when he couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t see any point in anyone else as long as she …

Minho doesn’t answer Jisung. Just averts his gaze, stares across the garden at a tall Jasmine bush, focuses on the little white flowers, the scent of them in the air. Jisung next to him is quiet, too. Less fidgety, though Minho knows he probably wants an answer that Minho can’t give him. Better to get used to the disappointment early, Minho thinks.

Suddenly, there’s a commotion inside the little hut, a triumphant cheer, then a yell of the captain’s name. Minho is on his feet before he can even think, Jisung hot on his heels as he hurries back inside.

When he opens the door, the captain lifts her head, makes eye contact with him and Minho knows.

They got him.

“He’s trying to get out from under the crown,” she laughs out, Yeji next to her has a triumphant smile on her lips. Ryujin is leaning over the captain’s shoulder, reading Yeji’s notes. But the captain is staring at him.

“He’s trying to sell the territory to the Spanish, pocketing the money before turning around and staging a coup and making them independent. And he’s trying to recruit other governors to do the same, to maximise their chances, their gains. This is …”

“High treason,” Minho breathes out. “High fucking treason.”

The captain nods, and then her lips stretch into the biggest smile and Minho takes a hesitant step forward before he stops again. He’s itching to take her into his arms, to wrap her legs around his waist, twirl her around, kiss her breathless, feel her smile against his lips. But he stops himself, watches as she blinks at him, her pretty, ringed hands twitching around the paper, her mouth opening like she wants to say something. There’s a shadow that crosses her face. But Minho can’t have that, he needs her to feel this, the culmination of all her work, all her sacrifices over the years.

So he smiles at her, makes his way over, stepping up to the side of her that Ryujin readily concedes to him, leans some of his chest against her arm.

He reads.

HYJ to NT. Planned date of sale to SP 20 May 16––. Matthew Town.Independence when agreed capital is made over to us and defence against crown secured. Pray confirm.

Then underneath it.

HYJ to LD. Planned date of sale to SP 20 May 16––. Making over of San Salvador from NT September 16–– in exchange for defence against crown + NT head. Pray confirm.

“Double timing, bastard,” he mumbles, and the captain snorts out a laugh.

“I doubt he could swing this, maybe we should just let it play out.”

Minho scoffs, grasps the opportunity to turn to her, closing the gap between their bodies enough so he can let his hand rest softly on her lower back where nobody can see. He scrapes his nails over the fabric of her shirt, watches her eyes glimmer.

“I’m not taking any chances with this piece of shit. I’d sail across the entire ocean and hand-deliver him to that old hag, the queen if it meant I could see him hang.”

Yeji snorts, and he gives her a dark smirk. He really does like her. Ryujin next to her, has her eyes fixed on where Minho’s hand is still ghosting over the captain’s back. She couldn’t possibly see, so how … He’s distracted by Yeji turning abruptly to Jisung, who was still lingering by the door, a little ways away from the group of them. He looks lost, only hesitantly steps closer. The captain wordlessly hands him the translated note. He reads. Hums.

“What’s up with you?” Yeji asks, and there’s an edge to her tone. “Changed your mind? Suddenly feeling the need to defend your dear uncle? Run off to tell him that we have him cornered?”

Jisung scoffs, and sends her a glare, the first unkind thing he’s done in this house so far, and it strikes Minho how unusual it feels.

“As if,” he mumbles. Then he takes a deep breath and points at the paper.

“LD stands for Lord Dunmore, he is one of the few governors who didn’t immediately run as soon as my uncle showed his true colours. I think he might actually like him, which should tell you everything you need to know. It doesn’t surprise me that he would be the one hired to off Nicholas Trott, or NT. Now, …”

Jisung points lower, gives them a look.

“Trott, on the other hand, he’s the governor of San Salvador. Tall, skinny man. A son and a daughter and a penchant for gardening and whores. Has been turning a blind eye to the drug business being run from his harbour because they cut him in. He’s a piece of shit, but he would probably help us. I know where he lives.”

Yeji huffs out a laugh.

“Guess I underestimated you.”

Jisung just shrugs, throws the captain an uncertain look, his eyes barely brushing Minho where he’s still glued to her side. He doesn’t look as triumphant as he should.

In the distance, the town’s clocktower strikes, and the captain throws a glance out the window, at the slowly setting sun. She takes a step away from Minho. Minho’s hand falls uselessly by his side, and he misses her touch already.

She smiles at her two friends.

“We need to get back, tell the crew about what we found, and probably celebrate,” she says, “You’re welcome to join us, if you want, since … we couldn’t have done it without you.”

Ryujin smiles at her, but shakes her head.

“We don’t really go into town after dark, especially not the bars, but thank you.”

Yeji grins.

“When you get him? Make it painful.”

When the captain says goodbye at the door, Yeji hugs her for a long time.

“Make sure to come visit us again soon, okay? No more coming to Nassau without making the trip out here,” she tells the captain, cups her face, before Ryujin takes her place. She looks troubled.

“Be careful out there, Y/Nie,” she mumbles, “good luck. You’ll need it.”

She pulls the captain into a hug, staring at Minho across her shoulder. She whispers something Minho can’t hear in the captain’s ear before she pulls back.

They make their way through the overgrown garden, out the rickety gate, back onto the dirt road into town. Minho claims his rightful place next to the captain, talks to her about the maps, the code, how they should approach this. Jisung trails behind them, quietly.

The sun is setting, the last rays of sunlight slipping through the palm trees as you make your way down the Main Street after dropping the satchel with the maps and the codes off in your triple locked quarters.

You hear your crew before you can even possibly see them. Their discordant but gleeful singing ringing through the open windows of a small, dark tavern. Light is pouring out of the windows, the door wide open to create some airflow in the sticky hot night.

Jisung behind you is still quiet, avoids your eyes when you turn to him. It’s a weird quiet, one that you don’t like, not from him. Jisung, who usually wears either a petulant little pout or a bright little smile or that steadfast determination that makes him square his shoulders, grow a size taller in stature, an almost dangerous glint in his eyes … No, this Jisung is none of that. He’s nibbling on his bottom lip, his eyes sad, feet shuffling across the sandy street in his pretty leather boots that are slowly scuffing into something much less refined and much more recognisable and fitting for ship life. But he avoids your eyes when you try to catch them, so you leave him be. There will be time later.

Minho walks into the tavern first, and you hear everyone greet him with a cheer – but it’s nothing compared to the sound when you appear behind him. The whole room erupts into excited yells, Hyunjin squeals and bounds over to you, taking Jisung hostage from behind you and dragging him over to a table where Seungmin and Jeongin seem to be in the middle of an intense card game. Chan hollers for rum to be poured for the three of you, and you can’t help but laugh when Felix comes up to you, gently pulls you into their midst, pushing a glass of rum into your hand.

You don't go on land with them often, especially not at night and especially not to go drinking. Not because you didn’t trust your crew, per se, but you didn’t trust … men. Crowds of rowdy, drunk men. And while you were pretty sure you had around 30 men who would jump to your defence at a moment’s notice, you knew it would only cause a scene, ruin their night, maybe even get them kicked out of a tavern. It wasn’t worth it. Plus, with the possibility of enemy crews or government spies around, it was borderline impossible for you to relax enough to even consider having more than a few drinks, anyway.

But here, now, in this tavern with what you realise is pretty much only your flushed, happy, singing crew, except for a few scattered, lonely locals, with Han Yujun’s death sentence stowed away in your office? You feel as invincible as you’re ever going to feel.

Felix guides you to the table in the middle before he sits down, looks at you expectantly. A hush falls over the room.

“So?” he asks, his voice tinged with a beautiful shimmer of hope.

You turn around, find Minho still standing by the door, a drink in his hand, his eyes on you already. He smiles softly. A part of you wishes he could be right next to you. It feels as much like his victory as it does yours. You swallow down the urge to beckon him over.

Over Felix’s shoulder you make eye contact with Jisung. He smiles at you, small but oh so sweet, and then you look back at Felix, who is nervously shifting in his seat. You try to play it cool, you really do, but the giddiness that rises in your chest, the elation that you didn’t show earlier, the sheer tidal wave of hope that Yeji’s scribbled words let loose in your heart – a smile spreads over your face before you can stop it.

You watch Felix process it for a second before his whole face lights up, and he half gets out of his chair.

“Do we have him?”

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You nod.

“High fucking treason.”

The roar that goes through the room is deafening. Cheers, laughs, screams of delight filling the tavern. You think there are tears in Felix’ eyes when he gets up, rounds the table, and pulls you into a hug. And before you know it, you’re surrounded, warm bodies crowding around you until you’re caught in between what you think is your entire crew, still cheering and laughing and congratulating you, praising you for finally bringing him down. You try to answer, try to thank them, tell them it’s not done yet, but there is no room for argument, only their exuberant joy. You surrender to it.

Someone hugs you this way, someone else tugs you that way, and you lose your footing, stumble over someone’s boot, and you briefly wonder if you’re about to fall when a strong hand wraps around your hips, keeps you upright, pulls you closer protectively until you’re finally stable on your feet again, chest to chest with your saviour. When you raise your head, Jisung’s face is mere inches away from yours. You can feel the little breath that drips from his plump, slightly parted lips, could reach out to touch the little mole on his cheek. You watch his eyes flicker down, down to where you’re pressed against him, then to your lips for only a whisper of a second before coming back to stare into your eyes. His eyes are big, dark, beautiful, and so gentle, understanding, and you feel so … safe.

He opens his mouth, splays his palm, runs it the barest hint higher, sending sparks through your body; he’s about to say something, when you hear Minho’s voice cut through the commotion. Jisung lets go of you like he’s been burnt, sending you almost tumbling into whoever is standing behind you. It hurts, the loss of his warmth like a physical ache, but watching him hug his hands close to his chest, pretty face folding in on itself in sadness, is so much worse. Your heart aches, fingertips aching to reach out for him, take his face into your hands, smooth his lips back into a smile.

“Okay, everyone, make some space, you can’t kill our captain before she has a chance to kill the guy.”

And with that, Minho pushes through the crowd, that immediately thins around you. Jisung stumbles away from you as fast as he can, but then Minho is behind you, brings a gentle hand to your waist, just where Jisung’s just was, and turns you around. You blink up at him, and he scowls with worry, searching your face.

“Are you okay?”

He looks concerned, slightly flushed, but nothing else. Could it really be that he didn’t see …? When you don’t answer, he grips you tighter, gives you a careful once-over. You shake your head quickly.

“I’m fine, just … overwhelmed,” you breathe out. At least that’s not a lie.

“Should’ve saved you from these animals earlier,” he grumbles, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “Now let’s get you another drink. I think we deserve to celebrate tonight.”

And celebrate you do.

One glass of rum turns into two, then three. You lose Minho at some point, and then he’s back, and you think you’re probably staring, letting your eyes drag over his shoulders, his sparkling eyes and high cheekbones for longer than is acceptable. He doesn’t comment, only looks back at you, an intensity in his gaze that is usually reserved for when he presses his lips against yours in your office with the threat of Chan barging in at any moment.

But he doesn’t leave your side any more. His dark eyes on yours as you float through the tavern, friendly faces cheering you on, clapping you on the back, murmuring low words of thanks and congratulations, as if Han Yujun was already behind bars.

You say this to Seungmin when you plop down next to him, and he just smiles at you.

“They know you. You’re our captain, you don’t lose. And now that you’re so close? There’s nothing that could keep you from taking him down. There’s just no other option.”

You almost blush, give Seungmin a pained grimace that makes him laugh happily.

“Sorry, I won’t get sappy on you,” he reassures you, and you box him in the arm lightly.

“You better not. You’re meant to be the least sappy out of all of us.”

You get swept up by someone else, and Seungmin lets you go with a little wave.

At some point, the barkeep unearths bottles of a shimmering green liquid from underneath the bar, calls it Absinthe, calls it the green fairy that will make all your worries float away. And you drink that, too, along with everyone else, just a little bit – but it turns out a little bit is more than enough.

Because it’s strong. And not strong in the same way the rum is, no, strong in the sense that it makes your world go fuzzy around the edges.

You lose sight of Minho, though you’re caught by Felix again, getting pulled into the midst of your crew. The absinthe makes the room sing, your crew scattered, laughing, drinking, singing their songs to their heart’s content, surprisingly melodic, harmonious, like it’s what they’ve always done. Your soul soars somewhere above you, through the steam and the wooden rafters, brushing past the oil lamps on the walls, fills and aches when you realise how many times you’ve heard this, from the distance, sat in your office while they were celebrating below deck.

And that one night, when Minho hadn’t gone ashore. When he had found you, barefoot, tipsy, doors and windows cast open to let in the salty breeze. When he had taken you upstairs, had kissed you for the first time under the starlight, your world exploding into fragments of light with every hot, sweet press of his lips, his touches like the first ones you’ve ever felt, a purity in the way your body unfolded for him, folded him into you and never let him go since.

Minho. You can feel him next to you again, his solid shoulder right next to yours, his hand, always so strong, yet soft, resting on his own leg when it’s meant to be resting on yours. But you’re in public. You try to distract yourself, look out into the room, at your crew having the time of their life, but nothing wants to focus except fragments; Like the freckles on Felix’s cheeks when he laughs, the way Changbin’s cheeks are flushed with the glow of alcohol, Jeongin’s laugh from somewhere to your left.

And then Jisung pops into your vision, slides onto the bench on your other side, his mouth moving. Somehow, you manage to focus, and you hear him, deep voice like dripping molasses down your spine.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his brows furrowed in concern. But you smile, watch as relief rearranges his features into something beautiful.

You let out a shaky breath, one you can’t account for with any good reason. Distantly, you feel Minho’s hand finally make its way to its home on your knee, but you can’t look away from the man in front of you. His eyes are unfocused, his pouty lips slightly parted, but he’s looking at you, staring back into your eyes again, just like earlier. He runs a shaky hand through his hair, trying to push it back, but it falls right back into his face, brushes against his cheeks, his eyelashes fanning over the skin. It looks so impossibly soft.

You remember Ryujin’s words in the kitchen earlier, when you were making tea, when you watched Jisung and Minho through the window; the tension in Jisung’s shoulders, the unguarded confusion, shame, want in Minho’s eyes. You don’t have to worry. Just let it happen.

A drop of sweat runs down Jisung’s temple, and you follow it with your eyes. Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out, catching it with a gentle fingertip. Jisung trembles, a choked sigh falling from his lips as he leans forward, almost entranced. You can feel his breath fan over your face, herbal notes from the absinthe and something quintessentially Jisung and you want to lean in, want to know if his lips will be sweet like the ripe peaches that seem to have served as inspiration when they created him, whether the skin of his collarbone will taste like the burnt honey that looks like it’s dripping off him when he sweats.

Somewhere in the back of your head, reason prevails, and you stop yourself from leaning in further, but Jisung doesn’t, his face unreadable as he lets a gentle hand rest on your arm, sliding up until it wraps gently around the side of your neck, thumb rubbing soothing circles over your pulse. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat thundering just under the thin veil of your skin. The metal of his rings is cool against into your skin, and you wonder if they would leave marks, if the squeezed closer, wonder if he would squeeze hard enough for the marks to still be visible tomorrow …

Suddenly, Minho’s warm chest slides against your back, hot and grounding, and you can’t help it when your head falls back against his. The need you’ve been carrying around, the vague desire that’s been haunting you when you were alone in your bed or your bath or Minho was already asleep next to you – it makes you unable to resist the sweet, hazy drag of their hands.

When you blink your eyes open, you see Jisung staring at Minho, hazy eyes trained on his lips, and Minho behind you chokes on air.

“Jisung, …” he mumbles. It’s meant to sound like a warning, and it does, too, but somewhere laced in there, you hear his fear. You’re too far gone to figure out what he’s afraid of.

Jisung’s free hand reaches over and slides up Minho’s thigh. Gently, wanting. Something clicks into place when he looks from you to Minho, and back.

“Let me … please,” he whispers, his shimmering eyes swimming with want.

“I want you …”

< chapter VI - chapter VIII >

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